World's End (Age of Misrule, Book 1) (54 page)

Veitch desperately tried to reach him, but before he could get within a foot, the guttering's supports wrenched out of the brick and Church was falling, still clinging on to the fragile metal.

That act saved his life. The guttering broke his fall enough so that he blacked out for only a second when he slammed into the road. But when he opened his eyes the Hunt had him surrounded.

The horses dragged at him roughly with their hooves, and when he saw the sharp teeth in their mouths he wondered briefly if the Huntsmen were going to allow their mounts to eat him alive. Then the Erl-King dismounted and strode over to Church, his terrible face emotionless, his red eyes gleaming. He stood astride Church and pressed the sickle end of the pike against Church's chest; the blade felt hard and icy cold even through his jacket.

Slowly he bent forward until Church could see the scales of his skin and the bony protrusions which reminded him of the Fomorii, but were somehow very different. In his eyes, there was nothing Church could comprehend; they were alien, heartless.

Just as he had in Calatin's torture chamber, Church felt an uncanny peace come over him as he felt death near. He closed his eyes, and an instant later there was a brief flurry of movement as the pike slashed through his jacket and skin.

It took him a moment to realise he wasn't dead. When he opened his eyes he saw his jacket and shirt had been torn open and a stinging cross had been marked in the flesh of his chest. But astonishingly, that was the extent of his injuries.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, he watched in incomprehension as the Erl-King mounted his horse and led the riders to the end of the street. He gave another blast of his horn, and the dogs swarmed from the rooftops, down the side of the buildings, to gather behind the Hunt.

For one second, the Erl-King glanced at Church with a look that made his blood run cold, and then he spurred his horse and the Hunt galloped away with the hounds howling behind. A minute later, a silence fell on the deserted street as if the Hunt had never been there. With the threat gone, the shock and the pain proved too much and Church crashed back on the road in a daze.

eitch clambered down from the roof, unable to grasp exactly what had happened. The moment he'd seen Church slip he'd been convinced his friend's life was over; if not the fall, then the hounds or the Huntsmen themselves would dispatch him in an instant. But there Church lay in the deserted street, dazed but alive. It made no sense.

Still half-thinking the Hunt might return, Veitch quickly checked Church for any serious injuries, then supported him back to the B&B. The owner eyed them suspiciously as they made their way up the stairs, but said nothing; he'd seen worse.

The others were waiting in Tom's room, both relieved that Church and Veitch were back safely and irritated that they hadn't returned earlier. "Typical testosterone-addled minds," Laura sneered. "`Let's stay out late and show how brave we are."'

While Shavi tended to the wound on Church's chest, Veitch attempted to explain what had happened. Tom watched the scenario from his bed, saying nothing.

"Were they afraid of you?" Ruth looked exhausted, on the verge of breaking down.

"They wanted to terrify you," Shavi suggested. "It was a power game."

"Partly that." Church tried to ignore the pain lancing through his ribs. "But more, I think it was because they couldn't afford to kill me."

"What do you mean?" Ruth knelt next to him and searched his face.

"Their instinct was to hunt, which is what they were doing, but when they came to the kill they couldn't see it through because the Fomorii want us alive." He closed his eyes and lay back in the armchair; his head was still swimming. "The Fomorii can't touch the talismans directly. Unless they're wrapped in something. But they know how dangerous those things are-"

-so they want us to do all the dirty work finding them, and then they're going to take them off us," Ruth finished. "They're just using us."

"They let us get out of the mine for the same reason," Church continued. "I couldn't work out why they hadn't massed their ranks around the stone and the Wayfinder, if they're supposed to be so valuable. But we were allowed to just waltz through, pick them up, and waltz out. Thinking we'd done it ourselves, we carried on our own sweet way while they sat back, laughing."

"That Crow guy really did try to kill us," Veitch said, questioningly. "He wasn't messing around."

"Yes, but Tom said there was some kind of power struggle going on. Mollecht is probably trying to screw up Calatin's plans and get a few brownie points at the same time for wiping us out." Church glanced at Tom for some input, but he simply rolled on his back and threw his arm across his eyes. He seemed to be shaking, as if he had a fever.

"So they're tearing themselves apart, like the Borgias or something." Ruth blinked away a stray tear. Church reached out a hand in support, but she moved away, shaking her head defensively. Then: "And all those times we'd thought we'd won, all the little victories-they just let us do it. We didn't win anything at all."

"The illusion of free will." Shavi's words sounded more sour than he had intended.

"Herded like sheep." Ruth stared blankly out of the window, her thoughts closed off to them.

"We are still no closer to understanding their eventual aim." Shavi finished cleaning the blood from Church's chest; the cuts weren't too deep. "They seem well-established. They are strong. They could have moved at any time."

"You've seen them," Veitch said morosely. "What chance would anyone have? The cops, the army-don't make me laugh. It'd be over in a day."

Church winced at the pain creeping out from the wound. "Then let's hope we can call back the Danann to do our dirty work for us."

Laura made herself a cup of black coffee. "So the time we really have to worry is when we pick up the last prize. Then we're fair game again."

No one spoke. The atmosphere in the room had grown leaden with disquiet as they all turned their thoughts to the following day.

When the others crawled off to sleep, Church continued to sit up in the chair near the window, watching the dark waves roll across the surface of the sea. After a while, he took out the Black Rose, searching for some kind of comfort. In his mind, it was a direct channel to Marianne and all that she represented to him, all that she had taken away from him. "Come on," he whispered to it. "You told me your name when I first found you. Tell me something else."

It was a weak, childish thing to do and he didn't know what he really expected-Marianne hearing his voice, coming to him, making everything all right?-but he felt even more desolate in the ringing silence that followed his words. It was then he noticed a thin layer of white on the edge of one of the petals which, strangely, appeared to be frost. After he brushed it away, the cold seemed to linger unnaturally in the tip of his finger. It disturbed him so that when he fell asleep it infected his dreams with images of people he knew frozen to death in sweeping, pristine dunes of snow.

The morning broke bright and hot. They woke to the sound of cawing gulls, swooping in a clear blue sky, and the soothing sound of the tide washing against the golden sand. Still subdued, they gathered in Tom's room, where something caught Church's eye on the TV which had been playing silently in the background. He snatched the remote to boost the sound on a local news bulletin. Scenes of the police and army diverting traffic instantly placed it as the incident they had encountered on the M4.

"-cloud of toxic chemicals escaping from the Pearson Solutions plant at Barry Island has now dispersed. The massive operation by the emergency services to ensure thousands of people stayed in their homes while others in the high risk area were evacuated has been dubbed an overwhelming success by-" Church muted the TV and tossed the remote to one side.

"You believe that?" Veitch asked.

Church suddenly felt too weary to consider any of it any more. "Who knows?"

Laura shook her head resolutely. "How can you tell when a journalist is lying? Their lips move."

They all jumped as a blast of insane laughter burst from the TV speaker, then the set fizzed and went blank. Shavi noticed the clock radio had gone blank too. "Technology crash," he said.

Ruth cursed under her breath. "I don't get this," Veitch said. "Are those bastards switching everything on and off just to wind us up?"

"I think," Shavi mused, "it is simply the world finding its new status quo by trial and error."

Witch's face suggested he found this an even more disturbing prospect.

"Time to sell the computer and mobile," Laura said. "Beat that glut on the market."

The power came back on in time for breakfast, which they consumed in the restaurant in near silence. Afterwards, they gathered the talismans in the crate and headed down to the quay where the first boat to Caldey Island was preparing to sail. They were the first on board, although a couple with pre-school twins joined them soon after. The sea was calm and the boat rolled smoothly. Once they were past the rocky outcropping of St. Catherine's Island, topped by its Victorian fort, Caldey Island rose up, sun-drenched and green, three miles away in the bay.

When they were almost halfway there, one of the twins who had been gazing into the chopping waves suddenly called out excitedly, "Mummy! Somebody's swimming!"

The mother laughed and rubbed his hair affectionately. "Sometimes dolphins follow the boat, sweetie. Now sit down before you join them in there." The boy protested until a stern look from his father quietened him.

Witch glanced surreptitiously over the side, not wishing to show the others he was interested in seeing the wildlife, and was surprised to see the boy had been right-someone was swimming. Several people, in fact, their outlines distorted by the water. Veitch counted five alongside the boat, several feet beneath the waves. Yet they didn't appear to be wearing scuba gear, although they had been submerged an unnatural length of time, and they were swimming faster than anyone he had ever seen; they easily kept pace with the boat.

He thought about pointing it out to the others when a couple of the swimmers surfaced and he had another surprise. They were women, unashamedly naked to the waist, but their skin had a translucent greenish quality, almost the colour of the water, and their eyes were bigger than average and slightly slanted. And from the waist down they had scaly tails and long, gossamer fins like angel fish. As they turned and rolled in their undulating swim, their lustrous blue hair floated out behind them. Veitch saw gills slashed into the neck just below the ear.

Despite their outlandish appearance, they were stunningly beautiful. He understood how sailors of old were so transfixed by them that they plunged beneath the waves and drowned. One of the women caught him looking and swam up to just beneath the surface where she rolled on to her back and gave him a smile of such honeyed warmth, he almost felt himself melt. He smiled back, which seemed to please her. In response, she pursed her full lips and blew him a kiss before diving back to join her companions.

"What are you looking at?" Laura said accusingly. "Thinking about jumping?"

Veitch smiled at her too, which obviously surprised her. He thought about telling the others what he had seen, then decided against it. It was his own small spot of wonder, a brief, private, transcendental moment that he would carry with him always.

After the boat docked alongside an old concrete jetty, the team followed the winding path from the small beach to the parkland that lay before the white walls and sunburnt orange tiled roof of the monastery.

"Whoever hid these talismans liked their religious spots, didn't they?" Ruth mused thoughtfully. "Pagan. Celtic. Christian. That's quite crossdenominational."

"You think it means something?" Veitch asked.

"Duh!" Laura mocked. Witch flashed her a dark look.

They continued along past a roadside shrine and then the Wayfinder signalled a sudden change to the west. The paths in that direction were less welltrodden, the island more overgrown with dense trees and bushes. The heat had become almost claustrophobic and there was an abundance of midges and flies, despite the numerous birds cawing in the trees. Apprehension pressed heavily on them as they walked. The cut in Church's chest left by the Erl-King both stung and itched, while the Roisin Dubh in his inside pocket seemed to be reaching out to his heart with frosty fingers.