‘Go calm. Feel. Really feel with your senses. You know which one is the right path now, don’t you?’
At first, Mallory couldn’t understand what she meant, but gradually the realisation crept over him. The lines of blue force that had crisscrossed the hill also ran through this place, though at that point they were invisible. But Mallory could feel them even through the soles of his boots, buzzing gently, soothing him with their caress. He stepped forward, following the faint sensation. It led directly to the right-hand path.
‘So we’ve got to trust that the freaky Blue Fire is leading us to the right one,’ he said.
‘That’s the point, isn’t it? We’re showing trust — and humility. Two qualities that mean we’re worthy to find what lies ahead.’
‘I’m glad one of us has got it all figured out.’
As he prepared to take the first step on the path, Sophie took his hand and squeezed. ‘It’s the Pendragon Spirit, Mallory. Think of what it represents.’
Her words reassured him and, tentatively, he edged out on to the precarious path. It felt like tightrope walking; he had to hold his arms out to keep his balance, not looking down, moving one foot in front of the other only when he was sure he was secure and balanced. Sophie followed in his footsteps.
When they’d gone about twenty feet, Mallory realised that the other two paths had disappeared. Theirs was the only path leading into the gloom ahead.
Mallory was soon sleeked with sweat, his concentration so intense that his head hurt. He didn’t say a word to Sophie for fear of distracting her, but every time he heard her foot skid slightly on the stone, his heart beat wildly.
He didn’t know how they carried on. Each step became a mountain to climb, each movement a mantra of whispered prayer. But finally they reached solid ground and collapsed on to the stone flags, hugging each other in relief.
When they had recovered, they found themselves confronted by two stone doors. An image of a dragon eating its own tail was carved in the stone lintel over the point where the doors met.
‘I think this is it,’ Sophie said, with barely restrained excitement. She stepped forward and cautiously placed the palm of her hand on the centre of the dragon circle.
With a fizz of blue sparks, the doors slid open with a deep rumble to reveal a row of iron railings, and within them a gate. Sophie pushed it gently. It swung open with a reverberating creak to allow them entrance to an inner sanctum. More incense smouldered in one corner and the torches on the walls burned more dimly, imbuing the chamber with a reverential air. Small stone platforms, each one big enough for a man to lie on, lined both walls, and at the far end a similar platform stood alone, raised up to waist-height. Intricate carvings of serpents lined its base.
‘Oh,’ Sophie said quietly.
‘What is it?’
‘This is where the knights should be sleeping, waiting to be awakened.’ She gestured at the low stone plinths. ‘And that larger one is where the king should be.’
‘I thought you said that was a metaphor.’
‘It is, but look, it’s obvious,’ Sophie replied, confused.
‘Nothing is obvious.’ As Mallory walked towards the stone dais at the end of the chamber, the torches in that area burned more brightly to reveal a space beyond.
‘If there’s no hero waiting to come back when England really needs him, what does that mean?’ Sophie said, oblivious to Mallory. ‘Has something happened to him? Is there no hope?’
‘Look at this.’ Mallory was supporting himself on the raised dais, one hand clutching his injured side. He was looking into the area beyond where a brazier burned with the cool blue flames of the earth energy. In the middle of the flames lay a stone, round and grey with no discernible markings.
‘Is that why we were brought here?’ Sophie said, disappointed. ‘It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Never judge a book by its cover. See, I have a cliche for every occasion.’ Mallory steeled himself. Although he knew the blue flames didn’t burn like ordinary fire, it still took a leap of faith to plunge his hand into their depths. As he leaned in, a column of blue fire surged up to the ceiling high overhead. For the briefest instant, Mallory saw a face in that blazing pillar, but it was gone before he could register its features. But it left him with one piece of knowledge: the object in the fire was called the Wish Stone. Mallory retrieved it quickly and the column of fire instantly died away.
At the same moment, the Wish Stone came to life on his open palm. Crackling blue light sprang out of it, forming an image in the air of two men crouching next to a stone tomb with a woman standing nearby. The picture, which Mallory thought resembled a hologram, hung over the stone for a few seconds and then winked out.
‘What’s that all about?’ Mallory said.
‘No idea. But it’s got to be important.’ There was a note of doubt in Sophie’s voice.
‘I think that just about defines anti-climax. Night of the living dead outside. Throat nearly ripped out in here. Almost fall to my death down the crack of doom. The prize: a fucking rock.’
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Sophie said. ‘We can sort out what this means later.’
Mallory slipped the Wish Stone into his pocket. ‘I’m going to get my sword back now, and if that big mouser is sitting on it, I’m going to use this stone to-’
‘All right, so you’re a big man,’ Sophie said. ‘Let’s go.’
The day after briefing Hunter and his team, the General moved along the corridors of Brasenose with a renewed vigour. Ever since the Fall, it had all been about logistics — getting the supply lines in place, ensuring that the base was secure, developing policies and plans. Finally he felt as if they were in a position to take the first steps towards a campaign that would drive out the invaders.
He marched into Kirkham’s suite of laboratories and eventually found the scientist in a darkened room far away from the main area of activity, labouring over a model of a town laid out across a large map table, illuminated by a single light overhead.
‘So this is where you get away from it all to play with your toys,’ the General said sarcastically.
Kirkham was unruffled. ‘It’s a model.’
‘I can see that.’
‘A model of reality.’
The General masked his puzzlement in case it was construed as a mark of weakness and leaned over the table to get a better look. It was a facsimile of any small town — central shopping area, streets of suburban semis, rows of terraces, a few mansions and grand residences dotted here and there.
‘I created it for my next briefing to the Joint Board. The concepts are quite difficult to communicate to…’ He paused to find the right word.
‘The uneducated? Thick soldiers?’
‘No-’
‘Try it on me.’
Kirkham blinked through his thick glasses, clearly uneasy about going down that route.
‘Go on. Tell me about reality.’
Kirkham could see that the General had the bit between his teeth; there was no backing down. He began hesitantly. ‘As I said, these are difficult concepts. Understanding the nature of reality is key to the situation we now find ourselves in. I talked earlier about branes and String Theory, and their possible relationship with parallel universes — that’s one view. There are others. You’ll forgive me if I begin by delving into what seems to be mysticism-’
‘Just get on with it.’ The General continued to be engrossed by the model town.
‘Reality… material reality, such as you see around you, is regarded as an illusion in the Hindu religion,’ Kirkham began. ‘They have a word for it: maya, the veil of illusion. Ironically, many of the ancient spiritual philosophies are actually quite close to current scientific thinking.’ He peered at the General. ‘Do you understand that?’
‘Of course,’ the General said curtly. ‘“ All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream.” Go on.’
Kirkham relaxed a little. ‘Then let’s take things a step f
urther. A hypothesis. What we perceive as reality is, in scientific terms, a network of quantum waves which have become phase-locked and act as a single entity — in the same way that a group of photons become phase-locked in a laser.’
‘Yes — random light particles frozen so that they appear to be one object. You’re saying that everything we see around us is not in its natural state. It’s just become locked in this form and we accept that as the norm. But it’s not.’
‘Exactly.’ Kirkham couldn’t contain his excitement at the General’s receptiveness. ‘Now imagine if this phase-locked system could be affected as a whole by a human mind concentrating on one small part of it, in the same way that all systems are affected by a change of one tiny aspect. That could be perceived as magic by those who do not understand the system that lies behind the illusion.’
‘So you’re saying that one mind could therefore alter the whole reality?’
‘In this hypothesis.’
The General picked up one of the houses from a suburb. ‘So where does the town fit in?’
Kirkham took the house from him and carefully replaced it. ‘All that I’ve said so far is background. This is a model of our phase-locked reality. Consider that every house is a universe, or a dimension. Some are mundane, others… ornate. In some, little happens that we would consider unusual — the father comes home from his day at the factory, his dinner is on the table. In others, the family has access to technology the previous father cannot begin to comprehend from his limited life experience. We know from our intelligence there are at least two adjoining dimensions-’
‘This one and the Otherworld.’ The General began to see the model in a new light as the ramifications of Kirkham’s hypothesis began to reveal themselves to him.
‘The place the Celts called T’ir n’a n’Og, exactly,’ Kirkham continued. ‘The two are apparently very different places. But consider this: what if there are other dimensions just like our own, so alike that you can barely tell the difference.’ He tapped a row of terraced houses. ‘The only differentiating factors being a picture here, an ornament there. You could go from one to another and not realise you were in a different place.’
‘Perhaps that’s what happens when you die.’
‘I think that would be delving too far into the realms of mysticism.’ Kirkham wandered around the table, looking at the town from different angles. ‘But who knows? Really, when you get to this level, who knows anything? We have our hypotheses, but no way to test them.’
The General examined some of the imposing mansions on the edge of town, one of which had the creepy appeal of the Addams Family home. Then he looked towards the edge of the table and the gloom that lay beyond, and shivered.
Kirkham, however, wasn’t finished. ‘What if someone decided to knock down his house and rebuild it in a different way, or add an extension, as we discussed earlier-’
‘One mind concentrating on a part of the phase-locked system, thereby altering the whole of it?’
Kirkham nodded encouragingly.
‘You know, sometimes I get the strangest feeling that the world wasn’t meant to be the way it is,’ the General mused. ‘It’s odd… unnerving. I have this idea that I was living another life, and then everything changed. Do you ever get that?’
Kirkham didn’t answer.
The General’s initial curiosity had been replaced by uneasiness at the overwhelming enormity of what was being shown to him. ‘This wasn’t the reason why I came,’ he said, abruptly changing the subject. ‘Have you heard anything about one of the enemy being brought in for interrogation?’
‘One of the gods?’
The General nodded. ‘Because if it’s true, I want you involved. If you can discover their true nature, it would help us a great deal. A great deal.’
‘I’ve not heard anything,’ Kirkham said.
‘Mister Reid isn’t always forthcoming until he’s sure he’s covered his back, front and both sides. Curse of the intelligence profession. Shits, all of them.’
‘I’ll make some enquiries.’ Kirkham pressed his glasses against the bridge of his nose, a nervous reaction.
The General turned towards the door, adding almost as an afterthought, ‘If you find anything out, report directly to me. I want this matter and my request kept strictly confidential.’
‘Understood. It won’t go any further.’
‘One last question.’ The General paused on the threshold and looked back at the tiny town. ‘You talk about reality being phase-locked. Is that a random occurrence? Or was it made that way?’
Kirkham stared at the General for a long moment, then said simply, ‘I can’t answer that.’
The General nodded thoughtfully, but as he slipped out, Kirkham glimpsed an unsettled look in the military man’s eyes.
Sophie helped Mallory out into the cool night air on the slopes of Cadbury Hill, his face drawn from the pain in his ribs. He leaned over to brush the hair from her ear and whispered, ‘I’m not going to be much use if those freaks are still out here. Can you do anything?’
Sophie’s face was ghostly in the moonlight breaking through the clouds. ‘I can try,’ she whispered. ‘There’s a way of making us hidden in plain sight. I don’t know if those things will be able to sniff us out anyway, but…’ She shrugged. ‘I just need some time to concentrate.’
The words had barely left her mouth when there was a disturbance in the trees just below the scorched grassy area her earlier spell had made. Mallory drew his sword, illuminating his face with the thin blue light emanating from the blade. But instead of one of the warriors on the bizarre horses, a man ventured out. He was wearing camouflaged combat trousers, incongruously and pointlessly matched with a red silk shirt.
‘I don’t know how you managed to disappear off the face of the earth, but you gave us a right old run-around,’ the man said. ‘Two minutes from picking you up and then — poof! — gone. Nice trick if you know how.’
‘Who are you?’ Sophie said. Mallory stepped in front of her, sword at the ready.
‘The name’s Hunter and I am… well, words don’t do me justice.’ He approached them confidently. ‘I’d put that down, mate,’ he said to Mallory. ‘You’ll have somebody’s eye out.’
‘Tell you what,’ Mallory said, ‘take one more step and I’ll have two eyes out.’
‘I don’t think so. All right, boys.’ Hunter made a come-hither gesture and six men emerged from the trees all around.
Mallory eyed the circling men. ‘Looters,’ he said, though that didn’t sound quite right.
‘Actually, we have the stamp of officialdom and the full weight of the Government behind us.’ Hunter nodded and the men drew their guns. ‘There’s no need for any nasty stuff. I’m sure we’ve all got the same interests at heart — to clear out all the monsters and freaks and get our world back. I’ve come with an invitation for you to help us-’
‘You know who we are?’ Mallory asked. Beside him, Sophie rested her chin on her chest and closed her eyes. Silently, her lips moved.
‘I know you’re a Brother and Sister of Dragons.’
Mallory was taken aback by Hunter’s words. It was only very recently that he’d learned of his destiny. How could this stranger possibly know, too?
‘Chief, she’s doing something,’ an acne-scarred man barked.
Sophie continued to mutter under her breath, her eyelids half-open, the whites gleaming in the dark.
‘You can stop that right now,’ Hunter said firmly. Mallory could see that Hunter knew exactly what Sophie was capable of doing.
Before Hunter could act, the acne-scarred man raised his gun and moved in swiftly. Mallory whirled, sword at the ready, but the pain from his ribs left him off-balance. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ he snapped.
‘Shut it!’ the soldier shouted.
A low whispering rolled out from the undergrowth. Spooked, Hunter’s team turned, guns cocked, scanning back and forth for the source.
‘Come on —
we need to get out of here,’ Hunter said to Mallory. ‘Quickly.’
‘Tell him to drop his weapon.’ Mallory nodded at the acne man, who had moved in even closer to Sophie. Deep in her trance, she was oblivious to what was going on around her.
‘You’ve no need to be afraid of us,’ Hunter said. ‘We’re on the same side-’
He fell silent as one of the riders burst from the bushes in a trail of purple mist. Gunfire erupted from all sides, but neither the rider nor its mount appeared to be harmed.
‘Come on.’ Her trance broken, Sophie grabbed Mallory’s arm insistently.
‘You called it?’
‘Come on!’
Bones shattered with a sickening dry-wood sound as the reptilian horse smashed into one of the soldiers. The others continued to fire at it futilely, knowing no other way to deal with it. The horse-creature lowered its massive head, pulled its jaws wide sending saliva everywhere and then proceeded to rip and tear at the fallen man’s stomach. Blood and flesh rose up in a cloud.
In the confusion, Sophie and Mallory had managed to skid a little way down the scorched grassy slope before the acne man appeared to one side, his gun aimed at Sophie.
‘Stop!’ he shouted.
Sophie glanced back and saw that the soldier was shaking, as if gripped by some kind of internal battle. The eerie whispering was clearly affecting him deeply: his wavering self-control was echoed, despite his training, in the gradually worsening tremor running through his arms.
Hunter came running up. ‘Don’t shoot, you idiot! We need them!’
The snapping and snarling rose up in a frenzy as another man fell to the horse’s crushing jaws. The acne man glanced in horror at the beast and its rider, who was whirling a double-headed axe, then turned and saw Sophie pulling Mallory towards the trees. Finally succumbing to the all-pervading despair, his eyes glazed over in surrender and he fired just as Hunter slammed into him, knocking his aim awry.
The force of the bullet smashed Sophie over the edge of a hollow and she rolled into the trees, gone; no sound or movement followed.
Mallory had one second to call her name before something crashed into him and he plunged into unconsciousness.
The Hounds of Avalon tda-3 Page 5