Hunter felt strangely calmed by the giant’s presence. ‘All you need to tell me now is that everything is going to work out fine.’
The Caretaker shook his head slowly.
‘What’s the point in having a master plan if it doesn’t all pan out nicely?’
‘If everything occurred as it was meant to occur, there would be no need for you, would there, Brother of Dragons? There would be no need for Fragile Creatures, or gods, or… anything. This would just be a picture, never changing. There must be a chance for success or failure.’
‘Why?’
The Caretaker gave his enigmatic smile once again. ‘Existence has put its faith in you, Brother of Dragons.’ He stood up, drawing himself to his full height, and his shadow fell across Hunter. ‘Your light burns brightly in the dark. Existence has chosen well.’
He stepped away from the fire towards the door, but then a cloud of smoke obscured him, and when it cleared, he had gone. Hunter stared into the fire for a while, ruminating over what he had been told, and then he shrugged, lay down and went straight to sleep.
‘What do you think is happening back in our world?’ Thackeray sat in the vast blood-red hall of the Court of Soul’s Ease, listening to the sounds of conflict coming from the walls.
Sophie stood nearby. She was trying to prepare herself for what she was about to do, but it was difficult to concentrate with the bizarre acoustics of the hall, where even the quietest whisper reverberated loudly. ‘Time runs differently here. In our world, a second could have passed. Or years… maybe even decades.’
‘That’s why you’re so keen to get back?’
Sophie sighed. ‘It’s hard to tell whether all this is futile. Perhaps the worst has already happened back home. There might not even be a world to return to.’
They fell silent, allowing the clatter of swords and axes to take over. The battle sounds were punctuated by dull, vibrating eruptions as projectiles crashed against the walls, launched from one of the many mysterious siege machines the enemy had in their employ. It was only a matter of time before the court fell. The small, swarthy men scaled the walls like spiders in wave after wave. The Tuatha De Danann, led by Lugh but invigorated by Caitlin’s ferocity, drove them back time and again, but sheer force of numbers meant that the defenders would inevitably be overwhelmed sooner or later.
Sophie had to make her move before it was too late, but Caitlin was the dangerous x-factor. If she discovered what Sophie was planning, the outcome would likely be bloody.
‘How are you coping with Caitlin?’ Sophie asked hesitantly.
Thackeray rubbed at the tension in his neck; he was a man out of his depth. ‘I’m not coping. She looks like Caitlin, she talks like her, but when I stare into her eyes, I can’t tell whether she wants to have sex or slit my throat.’
‘I know it’s none of my business, but I can’t work out your relationship.’
‘It’s complicated.’ Thackeray was going to leave it there, but the emotional pressure was too much. ‘I met her just after her husband and son died. I fell in love with her straight away, the minute I saw her — I know it sounds pathetic, but it’s true. She’s got this amazing quality, something special buried really deep. It got me in an instant and I couldn’t let go if I tried. I think she loves me, too… or at least likes me a lot, and I know this is pathetic, too, but I’d even settle for that.’ He sighed. ‘But it’s still too soon after her tragedy. All the grief and guilt are still swirling around. I understand that. Maybe someday.’
‘That’s what I thought you’d say.’ Sophie had grown more and more impressed with Thackeray, not because he was romantic and sensitive, but because he had enough steel in him to admit it.
‘How about you?’ Thackeray said. ‘Boyfriend back home?’
‘Yes. He’s a Brother of Dragons, too.’
‘At least you’ve got some common ground, then,’ he said ruefully. ‘Sometimes you lot seem like you come from another planet. You’re missing him?’
‘More than you know. Nothing’s going to stop me from getting back to him.’ Sophie flinched as the missing portion of her emotional memory made all her recollections of Mallory dissipate like mist in the sun.
They were interrupted by the thunder of the enormous oaken doors being flung open. Caitlin marched in clutching two axes, with Harvey hurrying close behind, almost bent double under the weight of a variety of weapons.
‘We need axes. Lots of axes,’ Caitlin announced.
‘She’s going to be the death of me.’ Harvey dumped the weapons on the floor with a clatter. ‘Here — take your pick.’
‘Arrows aren’t effective when they’re coming up the walls,’ Caitlin said. ‘And we probably haven’t got enough anyway, even with the fletchers working overtime. But axes…’ She wielded an axe in each hand. ‘We can just decapitate them as they come over the top. The falling bodies will dislodge others. Two axes to each man doubles the kill.’
‘Tiring, though,’ Sophie observed.
‘We do what we have to,’ Caitlin said coldly. ‘I’m going back to the ramparts. Coming?’
‘We’ll follow on.’ Sophie subtly motioned to Thackeray to stay behind and hoped Caitlin hadn’t seen it.
Caitlin ordered Harvey to pick up a selection of the weapons and follow her. He meekly obliged.
Once they had departed, Thackeray said curiously, ‘What are you planning?’
‘There’s a way out of here. A way back home.’
Thackeray was stunned silent for a second, then said, nonplussed, ‘Why didn’t you tell the others?’
‘Because it’s not as simple as it sounds. I’ve been weighing it up ever since I found out about it. I still don’t think it’s necessarily the right way to go forward, but we don’t have a choice any more.’
‘It’s dangerous?’
‘Yes. Morally, emotionally, probably physically if Caitlin finds out.’ Sophie steeled herself; she couldn’t back out now. ‘There’s a place called the Watchtower, a physical building in some kind of space between the worlds. It’s possible to reach it from anywhere, and access anywhere from it, as long as you have the right key.’
‘And you have the right key?’
‘And the right keyhole,’ she said with dark humour. ‘I can use my Craft to open a way to the Watchtower. Everything I learned back home works so much more effectively in T’ir n’a n’Og. I can be powerful here, Thackeray, really powerful, given the right impetus.’
‘You’re scaring me now.’ Thackeray’s troubled, dark eyes searched her face.
‘Then I’d better get to the point. Imagine the Craft as a bullet. I’m the gun. But you need some kind of focused energy to send the bullet shooting out of the barrel. For small things, you can often do it with the mind — say, with words that set free subconscious energy. Ritual works better. But the best is sex. The energy freed during sex is like rocket fuel, to mix my metaphors.’
‘You need to have sex?’
‘With you.’
Thackeray’s expression was almost comical. ‘No, no,’ he protested, holding up his hands subconsciously as a barrier. ‘I mean, it’s not that you’re not an attractive woman. You are. Of course you are. But… it’s Caitlin…’
‘I know.’
‘I love her.’
‘I know.’
‘Harvey would do it in a flash.’
Sophie shook her head. ‘It’s not just about having sex, Thackeray. It has to be with the right person… the right battery. Bluntly, Harvey isn’t the one. You’ve got a lot of sexual energy ready to be released.’
‘I don’t know if I should be flattered or embarrassed.’ He jumped to his feet and ranged around the room anxiously. ‘There’s got to be another way.’
‘There isn’t. That’s what I’ve been considering long and hard. Don’t you think I would have done this the minute I found out about it if it was that easy? You’ve got to do this, Thackeray. Not just for us here, but for all the people back home.’
&
nbsp; Thackeray ran his hands through his hair in impotent silence.
‘I’ll tell you something, Thackeray: I’ve never had to go to the lengths of invoking the survival of the human race to persuade a man to have sex with me before.’
‘I’m sorry.’ A flicker of fear crossed his face. ‘If Caitlin loves me, and if she finds out… if the Morrigan finds out-’
‘Then we have to make sure she doesn’t find out. Let’s get this done, the sooner the better, while she’s out on the ramparts slaughtering thousands.’
As if punctuating Sophie’s words, another projectile crashed against the walls, shaking the court to its very foundations.
‘Come closer.’ Sophie held out her arms; Thackeray twitched like a nervous schoolboy.
It had taken almost an hour to get the preparations just right. They had moved to the privacy of the bedroom chamber in the large suite that had been set aside for Sophie after her arrival in the Court of Soul’s Ease. The furniture had been moved to one side and a sacred space inscribed on the floor with red dye and candles. She’d had to guess at the cardinal points for her special sigils — compasses didn’t always make a great deal of sense in that place. Incense drifted teasingly through the air, and she’d forced Thackeray to have two stiff shots of the dark, potent spirit that many of the court’s residents consumed at the end of their meals. Despite being a little tipsy, he was still on edge, and that made Sophie even more anxious.
‘I don’t know if I can go through with this,’ he said.
‘This isn’t helping the mood, Thackeray.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Sophie turned and lit some dried herbs in a small brazier.
‘Double, double, toil and trouble?’
‘Just get your clothes off, Thackeray.’
She heard him mutter, ‘Something wicked this way comes,’ and then she turned and grabbed him and started to pull his clothes from him. She stripped off herself, quickly, and then used her hands and her mouth to get him erect.
‘I don’t know if I can keep it up,’ he muttered.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll help. Just close your eyes and think whatever you need to.’
She lay down in the circle and opened her legs, pulling him into her. As he began to move backwards and forwards, eyes clamped shut, a surge of emotion hit her and she had to blink away the tears. She had thought it would be easy, pure mechanics, but all she could think of was Mallory, and that she was betraying him, and that she missed him so much.
She must have grown tense, for he whispered, ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine. Keep going.’ Her emotions were too raw and the only way she could continue was to focus in that gap where her meeting with Mallory had once been; she found it ironic how something so painful now had a use. Without that loss, she might have had to give up.
They continued until they grew hot and sweaty and arousal took over from the regular flow of thoughts. In her mind, Sophie shaped the energy and infused a word of power. She managed to hold on to her orgasm so that they climaxed at the same time, and then she said the word of power with force.
The flash she experienced may have been in the room or in her own head, but when she looked around there was a doorway shimmering in one wall, like oil on water, and on the other side she could see a long corridor lit by flickering torches.
‘Come on,’ she whispered. ‘Let’s get the others.’
Thackeray withdrew and they both dressed quickly. But then Sophie noticed something strange: the bedroom door was slightly ajar. And she was sure she had closed it tightly after they had first entered.
‘How long will the portal stay open?’ Lugh stood in the centre of the bed chamber, surveying the entry to the Watchtower. Ceridwen stood behind him. Thackeray and Harvey waited in one corner while Caitlin remained a dark, brooding presence nearby. There was no sign that she had any suspicions about what had happened.
‘It won’t stay open for ever,’ Sophie replied. ‘It should remain long enough for you to carry out some kind of evacuation.’
Lugh was troubled. ‘But will every member of this vast court be able to pass through before it closes? I fear for the safety of any left behind.’
‘There will be a slaughter,’ Ceridwen said bluntly.
‘We could do with your help back in the Fixed Lands,’ Sophie said. ‘But you have to do what you have to do. We need to go.’
Lugh nodded curtly and stepped back. Ceridwen gave Sophie a brief hug. ‘If we can, we shall join you shortly, Sister of Dragons.’
Sophie turned to Caitlin. ‘Ready?’
‘Let’s do it.’ Caitlin gripped one axe tightly and adjusted the other strapped to her back. Sophie nodded to Thackeray and Harvey to follow, and then led the way into the unknown.
The General steeled himself before he entered Kirkham’s private lab. He thought that over the years he had learned to be immune to bad news, but the latest report had shaken him to the core. The estimates of the size of the enemy army were such that he had berated the messenger for typing too many digits. But there had been no mistake. The enemy had moved slowly south and west, converting the population to their cause; and converting was the ultimate euphemism for what they actually did. Hundreds of thousands had been slaughtered and remade in the image of the Lament-Brood, all of them now marching to the beat of war. And Birmingham was next.
He barged into the lab without knocking. The model town lay gathering dust to one side while Kirkham examined a purple gem illuminated by a powerful spotlight.
‘What have you got for me?’ the General barked so sharply that Kirkham almost swept the jewel on to the floor.
‘I’m working on-’
‘Nothing. That’s the answer, isn’t it?’ The General had told himself he wouldn’t lose his temper, but the blood was thundering in his head. ‘Months spent tinkering away down here, the hope of the nation invested in you… and you’ve got nothing to show for it!’
The General turned to the model of the town and thrust it off the table. It shattered noisily in a heap on the floor.
‘I need results!’ the General raged. ‘I need you to get one of those… one of those… bloody magic wands working! Anything!’
Kirkham blinked at him from behind his glasses. ‘There’s nothing that’s reliable, General,’ he said calmly. ‘Certainly nothing that would deal with the magnitude of this problem. I thought the nuclear deterrent was-’
‘We’ve tried nukes, blast it!’ The General sucked in a deep breath, searching for his dignity. ‘We dropped one over Tamworth. Never exploded. The pilot said it looked as if it disappeared into some kind of black hole. We’ve sent in troops on skirmishes, quick in, quick out, aiming for minimal casualties. They couldn’t get out quickly enough. More fuel/air explosives. Anthrax from Porton Down. Nerve agents.’ As the rage rushed out of him, he sagged, looking ten years older in an instant. ‘We have to face the fact that conventional weapons are not going to work. From now on, we’re down to wishing.’
‘I’m sorry I don’t have more helpful news, General. The things I’m dealing with are beyond scientific understanding, certainly at current knowledge levels.’
‘We lost our only hope when Hunter went mad and smuggled that Brother of Dragons out,’ the General said. ‘If I find him, I’ll shoot him myself. I should have done it a long time ago.’
‘Even if we had access to the Brother of Dragons, I don’t think we would have had time to make any breakthrough in finding a way across the dimensional barriers.’ Kirkham began to pick up pieces of the broken model and replace them on the table. ‘But the enemy is not the Tuatha De Danann. This enemy may not even have come from the Otherworld.’
‘So, what? We’re now easy pickings for any Higher Power anywhere across the universe?’
‘Multiverse,’ Kirkham corrected, pedantically.
‘You really are our last hope, Kirkham.’ The General walked towards the door, not knowing where he was going next or what he was going to do. ‘Desperate tim
es require desperate measures, and these are the most desperate of times. Do whatever you can. Don’t worry about protocol. Don’t worry about chain of command. Just pull something out of the bag.’
After the General had left, Kirkham waited until the sound of his footsteps had faded away and then picked up the phone. ‘It’s Dennis Kirkham,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m with you.’
True to the Caretaker’s word, the bad weather held off long enough for Hunter to make good progress. With his horse and himself fed at the next farm, he followed the Wayfinder’s blue flame north-east from Banbury, along the A361 to Daventry where he helped starving residents fight against a local landowner who had taken ninety per cent of the food that had been stored. Hunter killed four heavily armed thugs and then threw the greedy landowner to the mob, departing amidst cheers and the formation of a new legend; he wasn’t surprised to realise that he liked the adoration.
From Daventry, he cut cross-country to Market Harborough where he stocked up on supplies and then continued across the Leicestershire countryside. It was hard going in the frozen landscape; away from the shelter of trees, the hungry wind flayed his skin and cut through even the thickest clothes. It was even worse when he passed Stamford and moved into the Lincolnshire flatlands, where there was little cover and the land resembled the Antarctic wastes. He found the A15, an old Roman road, which was marginally easier to travel than the country lanes, and headed north.
Despite the hardship, he never entertained the slightest notion that he might fail; it was all down to will, the desire to win, the hunger for survival, and he had demonstrated throughout his life that he was more than blessed with those qualities.
Finally, on a blue-skied, sunny morning when the snow glared so brightly it hurt his eyes, he arrived in Lincoln.
The city was dwarfed by the imposing Cathedral Church of St Mary, perched atop a two-hundred-foot-high limestone plateau overlooking the River Witham, its Gothic architecture given a magical appearance by the snow.
Hunter ventured past the city limits with a degree of apprehension. Since the Fall, much of the country had been gripped by lawlessness; murder was commonplace in populated areas, and Hunter guessed things would be even worse in the grip of an ice age that threatened most of the population with starvation.
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