World's End (Age of Misrule, Book 1) (20 page)

She smiled at his display of emotion. "That is why you are here, Jack Churchill."

"What can I do?" It seemed such a ridiculous question he had trouble restraining the self-contempt in his voice, but he instinctively knew she would not accept any disrespect.

"You are not yet in tune with your heritage. When you find your true heart, the strength to act will come with it. Yet it is true, even then the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons would not have the power to defeat the Night Walkers alone. Yet you do have the power to free my people-"

"How?"

11 -given the right calling, given the correct conjunction of important things. And that is your task, Jack Churchill, should you accept my patronage. Indeed, it is your destiny, and if truth be told, you have little choice in the matter. Assemble the five Brothers and Sisters of Dragons who are one in spirit, the quincunx that make the hero foretold by the Faithi, who will save the Age of Man from the final threat. Locate the objects of power that will make the summoning."

"This is all moving too fast. I don't understand-" Church's right hand began to shake uncontrollably and he had to replace the goblet on the table; he couldn't tell if it was the weight of her words that had triggered the violent tremor or his subconscious rebellion at the threat of what lay ahead if he did as she said.

"Tell me," he said, staring off into space, "those things I saw in the rooms-"

"They will come to pass."

"Even if I refuse to take part in this?"

"They will come to pass."

Church could still see his pale, dead face submerged in the water, his torment as he watched the burning city, and it seemed whatever life stretched ahead was bleak and despairing; but then, was that any different to the days since Marianne had died? Deep within him, something stirred; if he knew his burden, he would shoulder it as best he could, and if he could do some good for others then that would be enough. The woman was smiling as if she could sense his thoughts. "I'll do what I can," he said.

"The fire burns strong within you, Jack Churchill, though you cannot see it yourself."

He sighed. "I wish I could say that gave me some comfort."

He was surprised when the woman took his hand and wrapped her own around it, even more surprised when he felt some strange succour from the act; his heartbeat subsided, the stress seeped from his muscles, his shoulders relaxed gradually. Her voice, when she began speaking, was quieter than before, as if she were afraid the walls would overhear the secrets she was about to reveal. Church looked into her eyes, entranced.

"When my people first came to your land, they brought with them four objects of the most remarkable strangeness and power. They were touchstones for my people, prized above all else, celebrating our origins and our power, the culmination of our great tradition. Though our beginnings are lost to time, for we are an ancient race, the Filid tell of our days in four marvellous cities of the northland: Falias, Gorias, Finias and Murias. There, buildings of glass and gold soared to the clouds; the days were filled with glory, the nights with wonder. There, we learned magic, craft and knowledge, became aware of the weft and weave of nature and, eventually, transcended our humble beginnings to become gods. When we ventured abroad, we took a talisman from each of the magical cities so we would never forget our transformation and grow arrogant in our power. And finally, for we are a nomadic people, our journeying brought us to your land."

There was a sadness in her smile as she recounted her tale; the heart of her melancholy, Church guessed, lay in whatever had encouraged her people to leave paradise, for having seen heaven, how could they truly know peace again? "And you want me to find these four talismans?"

She nodded slowly. "They will be like a candle in the night, leading my people across the void."

"What are they?" Church asked.

"There is a stone which can recognise the true king of your land. The sword of our great war leader, which inflicts only a fatal blow. The Spear of the Lord of the Sun, forever exalted as the slayer of the Adversary, bringer of victory over the Night Walkers. And finally, and most importantly, the Cauldron of our Allfather, an object filled with such power to heal or destroy that few can survive in its presence.

"When we left your land for our new home, the talismans were hidden, for we knew the Night Walkers envied them and we could not risk them falling into their hands. And by then the talismens were too tied to the land to take with us," she continued. "The Night Walkers would never have been able to use them, for they would have been consumed by the light the talismans contained, but they were such a vital part of my people's tradition and pride that they were my people. And to see them in the hands of the enemy would have been more than we could bear."

Something stirred deep in Church's memory at her description of the artefacts, but the details wouldn't come forth. "A stone, a sword, a spear and a cauldron. They seem familiar."

"They have played important roles in the history of your land. Found, then lost again, they have been used to shape momentous events by some of the most consequential mortals to walk your world. Indeed, they are now as much a part of your tradition and pride as mine. They have become infused with the very essence of your world. And that is why only the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons can find them." She paused as a shadow flickered across her face; in that moment, Church had the sense that she was something more than just the woman he saw before him, something alien and terrifying. "These are the forms you can understand. They are objects of pure power, their shapes defined by the stories. They have existed under other names, but at their heart, in your terms, this is what they are: a stone, a sword, a spear and a cauldron. But they have been missing for an age and though many have searched, none have found."

"Then how will I find them? You said time is short, so surely you can't expect me to spend years wandering the country, digging holes."

She led him to a large oak chest in one corner which he hadn't noticed before. The hinges creaked as if it hadn't been opened for centuries, and from within came a strong azure light which he recognised from Stonehenge. Carefully she removed an iron lantern on a short chain with a hook on the end. The light glowed from a blue flame which flickered through the tiny bottleglass panes on the lamp's four sides. She held it out to Church, who took it gingerly.

"You must take this back with you. It will light the way."

"How?"

"Follow the flame. It is the essence of your world and is drawn to the talismans. Trust your instinct."

A feeling of well-being flowed up the arm that was holding the lantern aloft. "Thank you," Church said honestly. "I'll do what I can."

"Now-" she began.

"Wait," Church said anxiously. "There's so much more I need to know. Who are the five?"

"You will know them when they come together."

At that moment, Laura emerged cautiously from the shadows of the doorway. She looked from Church to the woman.

"You did well," the woman said to her. "He is the one."

Church eyed Laura suspiciously. "Wait a minute, you were supposed to bring me here?"

"Don't get antsy, Church-dude. I couldn't take the chance you were going to get all yellow-bellied on me." She seemed to be shying away from the woman as if she was afraid of her.

Church felt a bolt of awareness that made his palms sweat. "When you mentioned Marianne-"

"She told me the one I had to bring here would know the name and it would be reason enough to make him come." Laura glanced at the woman, unsure she had said the right thing.

The woman's expression was impassive. "You would have been drawn here in time-"

"But you knew that would get me here quickly." Church felt his hands shaking and he hid them behind his back; he was almost afraid to ask the question. "This place looks out over all time, you said." He swallowed; his mouth was too dry. "Do you know-" There was a flicker across the woman's face that told him he didn't have to continue the question; he could see she knew something.

"Once you have done as I asked, all will be revealed to you."

The lack of emotion in her face disturbed him; it was a mask to hide the truth, but he couldn't tell if it was because it would destroy him, or because she felt suspending the answer would drive him on to succeed. "You must tell me now," he pleaded. He hated the desperation in his voice-it seemed so weakbut he couldn't control it.

She shook her head, said nothing. But for the first time he had real hope of finding out what really drove Marianne to take her own life; real hope of ending his own purgatory. If it was all he could take away with him, it would be enough.

The woman motioned for Church to move towards Laura. "You must locate my people before the Beltane fires light the land or they will be lost to you for another year, and by then ..." Her voice trailed away.

Church felt a surprising twinge of sadness that he was leaving the mysterious woman behind. "You still haven't told me your name."

She smiled. "When we become friends, then we will know each other." She touched his shoulder so briefly he barely felt it, but in that instant energy crackled between them. He thought he glimpsed something in her face then, but before he could be sure, she had turned away, by chance or on purpose. Then she made an odd, convoluted movement with her hand and the next second the woman, and the Watchtower, were gone.

The air was foul with the stink of burning, melted plastics and charred metal. Where the depot had stood was a broken outline, blackened and dripping water on the sodden, scorched ground; trails of smoke drifted up into the twilight sky from the twisted girder framework that was still too hot to touch. Three fire engines were parked in what had been the forecourt, their firemen, exhausted and sooty, standing around in small gaggles surveying the wreckage or spraying bursts of water on to pockets that were still burning.

"My God!" Church said, turning slowly to examine the carnage; the shock on their re-entry had taken any conscious thought away for a moment. Then: "We couldn't have been gone for more than a couple of hours."

"Time's different over there," Laura said distractedly.

They both stood for five minutes trying to come to terms with the upheaval until Church noticed a group of men in suits standing among the wreckage examining something on the ground before them. He squinted, but the haze made the object difficult to discern. Then a gust of wind cleared the smoke away and he saw it was a skeleton charred by the fire. But it was clearly not human; the bones were enormous, twisted into such monstrous forms he couldn't imagine what it would have looked like when it was alive.

Laura saw where he was staring. "What is that?" There was a note of sick disbelief in her voice.

"A Night Walker," he said quietly.

Suddenly one of the men spotted them and said something hurriedly to his colleagues. They looked towards Church and Ruth, their faces cold and serious, and then they started to advance. They weren't police, Church was sure; something in their manner suggested a higher authority.

"We had better get out of here," he said.

As one of the men called out harshly for them to stop, they turned and ran through the smouldering wreckage towards the gates which had been blown down. As they crossed the forecourt, they heard a cry and then saw Ruth waving from the other side of the fence.

"What in heaven happened to you?" she said; the strain was evident on her pale face.

There wasn't time to answer. The men were yelling furiously, but the three of them had enough of a head start. By the time their pursuers had reached the gates, Church was already behind the wheel of the car, the engine roaring.

"Who the hell were they?" Laura said as they pulled away at speed.

Ruth ignored her and turned towards Church. "We should dump her now," she said. "She led us into a trap. And now Tom's missing."

In the rearview mirror, Church watched the smoke obscure the angry red glare of the sunset. Laura spent several minutes denying trying to cause them harm, but her ironic manner made it difficult for them to accept anything she said at face value.