Destroyer of Worlds kots-3

by Mark Chadbourn

  'You cannot take them to the Final Destination! The survival of everything depends on them!'

  As Ahken's smile broadened, Church had the uneasy feeling that something was squirming just beneath his skin. 'Your kind has little respect for the eternal patterns of Existence and the great inviolable rules. That one-' Ahken pointed to Veitch '-transgressed the ultimate law when he travelled to the Grim Lands to bring back this one.' Ahken indicated Shavi. 'That has not been forgotten. Indeed, the current crisis that grips all the lands is a direct result of that action. You are architects of this suffering.'

  Church and Veitch stepped forwards, hands on their swords. Tom held them back. 'Don't,' he said quietly. 'You can't hurt it. What you see is not what is.'

  'You were our only chance to escape Earth when the spiders came,' Church said. 'We had no choice but to call you.'

  'Every action has repercussions, seen and unforeseen. You must take responsibility for them.'

  'Wait,' Tom said. 'They are too important for their lives to be forfeit-'

  'No one is too important.' There was a crack like thunder to Ahken's voice.

  'Take me in lieu,' Tom pressed.

  'I have you anyway, True Thomas. You knew the price asked the last time you travelled with me. But you have traded away your future, and now you are worthless to me.'

  Recognising that Ahken would not back down, Church part-drew Caledfwlch and the Blue Fire fizzed and crackled around him. The gravity surrounding Ahken grew by the moment, and Church was now in no doubt as to whom he represented. They could not defeat such a force.

  'Quick, now! Be swift, like mercury, like the wind!' The voice rose up around them before Church caught a glimpse of a figure slipping low and lithe along the carriage, more mischievous grin and sizzling eyes than substance.

  At the same time, Ahken was altering into something that filled Church with dread. Clasped hands became hooked claws and the smell of the grave intensified, but Church only had an instant to glimpse it, for there was a flash of blinding light and then utter darkness.

  The carriage door opened with a sound like escaping steam, and Church instinctively propelled those nearest to him out into the bright daylight. As he sprawled in the dust, he saw the others urged unceremoniously out around him, before a flash of brown sealskin bolted out to pause close by his ear. He looked deeply into yellow eyes and saw world upon world before their colour changed.

  'Grasped from the jaws of dark disaster. You, merry wanderer, are the Puck's prime spark. Enjoy your good fortune, happy fool and lover, for falling so neatly in my purview.'

  'Thank you,' Church said, still shaken by what he had sensed in the carriage.

  'No, thank you, Brother of Dragons. It serves me that you serve me, but the Puck cannot always be on hand to pluck you from the fire. The end can only be achieved by your own devices, and perhaps not even then. That is the way of the weft and the weave, and we are all at its mercy, even the Oldest Things in the Land.'

  In the space between thoughts, the Puck was gone. He had saved and guided them several times, but Church feared he was shepherding them towards an uncertain future that would benefit only the Puck.

  With a belch of steam, the Last Train raced away. Amidst the billowing cloud and the rising dust, Church had the impression that it wasn't a train at all, but a long black insect scurrying across the land, the roar of its wheels an angry cry that promised retribution another day.

  'I saw the Puck, too,' Shavi said, helping Church to his feet. 'He plays a long game, but at this moment I am glad he has chosen to act as our protector.'

  'Until the time arises when he needs to sacrifice us to achieve his ends,' Church said. 'We're always pawns and I'm sick of it.'

  The now-excited guards hastily ushered the Seelie Court through the gates, while others rushed to collect Church and the others. To one side, Etain and the other Brothers and Sisters of Spiders stood, stiff and isolated by death and their former allegiance. Church hadn't even realised they were on the train.

  He tore his attention from Ruth wiping the dust from Veitch's cheek and turned to Tom. 'What did Ahken mean, that you've traded away your future?'

  'Stop asking fool questions!' Tom adjusted his glasses in a manner that Church had come to recognise as defensive.

  'You can't keep secrets from me any more, Tom.'

  'I can do what I damn well like. I should be dead by rights, and you've made my life a misery by bringing me back. I've got no purpose here now. So don't you start telling me I need to speak my mind to you. It's you that owes me to keep your nose out of my business. It's the least you can do for the pain you've caused.'

  Church winced, and Tom instantly appeared to regret his words. 'There's a more pressing matter,' he said. 'On the train, I encountered a boy who, I'm told, is dead. He said his name was Carlton, and he told me something you ought to consider.'

  Church saw that Tom's hand was trembling. He tucked it quickly in his jacket pocket.

  'He said, in the battle ahead there are people we can trust and people we can't.'

  'You believe him?'

  'Who knows what to believe in this madhouse? But if I were you, I'd keep a close eye on those around you. And the ones at your back.'

  6

  The streets of the Court of the Soaring Spirit were filled with a cheering throng that left the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons baffled and embarrassed by the obvious adulation they were receiving. Many of the disparate races of T'ir n'a n'Og were represented, from the Tuatha De Danaan, whose calls had an uneasy edge of desperation, to animals that walked and talked like men, squat, dour mountain folk, bat-winged, sable-skinned people from the Forest of the Night, short, tall, fat, thin, bizarrely attired.

  Veitch was surprised by his reaction. He had forgotten the peculiar, rich, uplifting qualities of the Far Lands, the potent scents — spices, fruit and perfumed candles — colours more vibrant than his home and the rich textures of the stone, metalwork and carvings demanding that he touch them. It felt as if he was in a dream; it felt like coming home.

  'What are you smiling at?' Ruth asked him between nods to the well-wishers lining the way.

  'Do I need a reason?'

  'You? Usually.'

  At the Palace of Glorious Light, drenched in the mid-morning sunlight, they were guided to chambers that had once been occupied by Niamh, the court's former queen, where Mallory, Hunter and Caitlin now waited.

  'I didn't believe it when the guards told me,' Mallory exclaimed. He shook Church's hand forcefully, and then the two groups hugged and greeted each other like long-lost friends.

  Laura and Hunter adopted a blase attitude, but were soon sequestered together deep in conversation, their eyes gleaming, oblivious to the high emotions that whirled around them.

  After the reunion, Mallory said, 'We couldn't find the Extinction Shears. We failed. I failed.'

  'That's because you were looking in the wrong place,' Church said reassuringly. 'The Market of Wishful Spirit is in the Grim Lands.'

  'Why on earth would it be in the Land of the Dead?' Caitlin asked.

  'It doesn't matter. We'll start working on a plan to get to them immediately, ' Mallory said.

  'Not going to be that easy, mate,' Veitch interjected. 'We come in and out of this place like it's a tourist destination, but there are strict rules about getting to the Grim Lands. I've been there twice. The first time I brought the Void back and caused all this mess. And the second time I had to die to get there.'

  Leaving the others to share stories, Mallory led Church along the sun-drenched corridors to Doctor Jay's laboratory. As they neared, the constant low-pitched hum set their teeth on edge.

  When Church saw Jerzy, unconscious, silver-coated eyes wide and staring, his heart went out to his friend. 'What's wrong with him?'

  'I've got Math… everybody… working on it. No one has any idea.'

  'It's got to be linked to the Void's return in some way.'

  'Yeah, but… Jerzy? What could he h
ave to do with anything?'

  'The Puck took an interest in him. Even kidnapped him for a while. That could be it-' He cursed under his breath. 'I'm useless. All these important details, and I never see them at the time. Why didn't I question why the Puck got involved with Jerzy?'

  'What would you have been able to do?' Mallory led Church out of the chamber and closed the door to muffle the unsettling noise. 'All these connections… half the time they could be random. No one sees their importance till after the fact.'

  'I hope he's going to be all right.' Church cast one last glance back at the door separating him from his friend; it had been too long since they'd spent time together.

  'Yeah, he's one of the good ones,' Mallory replied, 'so this is going to sound harsh, but we've got too much else to worry about right now. Doctor Jay is doing what he can for Jerzy, and if there's any significance to this change we'll find out quickly.'

  'We saw the Enemy's army all over the Far Lands,' Church said.

  Mallory nodded. 'They'll be here soon. We've already been softened up by the Riot-Beasts. The Enemy's going to throw everything at us. There's an assassin loose in the city, trying to pick us off one by one. We've got strategies in place to tackle it — no Brother or Sister of Dragons travels alone, trebling patrols — but sooner or later someone will make a mistake.'

  'Tonight we rest, and plan,' Church replied. 'Tomorrow we start fighting back.'

  7

  Too many suspicious glances from the others eventually drove Veitch out into the deserted corridors, where his incipient guilt over the last few violent months gradually subsided. For a while, he wandered, deep in thought about Ruth and his belief that if he had any chance of redemption, it was through her, until a faint echo told him he was not alone.

  He waited, watchfully, and when no one materialised, he slipped around a corner, ready to draw his sword. Hesitant footsteps heralded the cautious approach of a woman of around twenty-five, her delicate face framed by blond ringlets in an old-fashioned style that Veitch had seen many times during his stays in Victorian London.

  'Oh,' she said, startled that he was waiting for her.

  'Why are you following me?' Veitch growled.

  'You are Ryan Veitch?' she replied in a cockney accent. 'That's what the guards say. All the fellers and the girls are talking about it downstairs.'

  'What's it to you?'

  She smiled. 'Let me tell you, ducky.'

  Rough hands grabbed Veitch's arms and threw him against the wall. Three men had come up behind him with the stealth of Brothers of Dragons, strong arms, strong faces, sharp eyes, but he could see the hatred in their eyes. He struggled to throw them off, but in a second the woman had a knife against his throat.

  'Name's Cathy, lovey, and as God is my witness, I'm going to carve your flesh for what you did to me.'

  'I've never met you before.'

  'Which is why I'm still here. I'm one of the lucky ones. But back in my old time, you murdered three of my Brothers and Sisters. We never got the chance to be Five. And I'm not alone there.'

  'You've got a lot of blood on your hands, Ryan Veitch,' a voice said at his ear. 'Good, decent people, just trying to do their bit for Existence. I saw my fair share of twisted slaughter at Dunkirk, but nothing like what you did. You betrayed the Pendragon Spirit. You betrayed everything Existence stands for. You killed people who would have been our friends and lovers. And now you're going to pay.'

  Veitch opened his mouth to account for himself, but Cathy pricked the knife deeper into his flesh. 'No lies,' she hissed. 'Just a quick cut and you won't be hurting any more of us.'

  Before she could thrust, there was a shift in the quality of the light and shadows appeared, source unknown. A background drone swelled, like the hum of a generator, a charge to the very air itself.

  Ruth rounded the corner, eyes crackling with an unearthly power, hair snaking around her head as if it was alive. From her outstretched hands whirled a storm of blue light. Veitch had seen her like that once before, during the Battle of London when her Craft had consumed her and she had become a lethal weapon that could destroy friend and foe alike.

  Cathy's knife slipped from trembling fingers as a gale flung her and her three helpers across the flags. The knife whisked up and embedded itself to the hilt in the thin join between two wall-stones.

  'You're protecting him?' Cathy raged.

  Ruth's appearance slowly normalised. 'He's working with us now. No one forgets all the people he's killed, but we need him.'

  'We don't need him!' Cathy shouted. 'He'll always be a danger. At the end, he'll turn, you'll see.'

  Veitch winced when Ruth cast an unguarded glance his way.

  'See? He knows it himself!' The three men helped Cathy to her feet, their expressions no less murderous. 'We owe it to all the others to kill him before he destroys everything. Never forget, never forgive!' Tears of anger streaming down Cathy's face, she ran back along the corridor, with the others close behind.

  'Thanks,' Veitch said. 'I should have expected that.'

  'Probably best if you don't go wandering off on your own from now on.'

  Veitch tried to put out of his mind how much he had thrown away, the camaraderie, the sense of being on the side of right, respect, love, all for some immature desire for revenge that had become more undefined with each passing day. He felt pathetic. He hated himself.

  Seeing some of this in his face, Ruth's expression softened with pity, and that made him feel even worse. 'Don't worry,' she said. 'It's going to be tough, but people will come around.'

  'You know what? I don't care. I've got a job to do — that's the important thing. The sooner I can start using this blade to cut things down, the better.'

  A window framed the distant shape of the Burning Man, hazy in the mid-morning sky, and for the briefest instant, Veitch thought it was looking deep into his very heart.

  8

  Fiddles and pipes and voices created an exuberant music that rippled out from the Palace of Glorious Light across the rooftops of the night-shrouded city and raised the spirits of everyone who heard it. The celebration centred on the great hall of feasting, though the thronging revellers spilled out into corridors and antechambers. Musicians from the Court of the Yearning Heart and the Seelie Court took it in turns to play. The former chose long, rich, dense reels that exuded eroticism and could ignite passion with a simple run of notes, while the latter selected uplifting melodies that exhorted the listener to love life and focus on higher purpose. Dancers whirled continually, collapsing in corners when exhausted for new couples to take their place.

  The sprawling kitchens at the heart of the palace had been working all day to prepare the feast, in clouds of steam and ferocious heat from the ovens that left every worker stripped to their underclothes. Pies and roasts and delicately spiced dishes, stews and soups, fruits and cakes and sweetmeats were piled high on the tables around the edge of the hall. Goblets were never empty; a small army of servants moved steadfastly around with flagons of wine and ale.

  The atmosphere was one of wild abandon, from the dancers to the staggering drunks to the couples who made love in the shadows, not caring who saw them. The festivities had been called to celebrate the reunion of the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons as they prepared for the next and final stage of the campaign, but it was also a statement: that even in the sight of the Burning Man, life was a powerful driving force.

  Shavi, mildly drunk and happy, watched the proceedings with one foot on a beer-washed table and a goblet clutched tightly to his chest. 'This is the reason why we do what we do,' he said.

  Sipping his ale, Mallory watched Laura grab Hunter by the hand and drag him behind a pillar. 'Free booze?'

  Shavi laughed. 'We lived in a world where strange and wonderful things happened on a daily basis, yet we barely raised our eyes from our work to see them. We were truly blessed to exist in the Fixed Lands. Everything that is writ bold here in the Far Lands was there, moving quietly on the edge of o
ur vision, just waiting to be discovered.'

  'I never saw that much of it.'

  'Then you never looked. Every magical thing is invisible until you find the right eyes to see it, whether it be love, or joy, or friendship, or a small flying pixie.'

  'Do you ever get depressed?'

  'If you saw the world as I did, you would not. Yes, there is hardship. Yes, there is pain and suffering, and if you focus on each instance in detail then the only thing you will find is pointless misery. But the mysteries of cause and effect are far beyond our abilities to understand them. Because we love science so much we believe there is a process where a simple action has a straightforward reaction. But the system in which we operate is massively complex, and what may have started at the beginning of time caused a billion, billion connecting reactions that are only now bearing fruit. Pick any point along that chain and you would not see what came before or what the final result would be, only that instant, good or bad in and of itself.'

  'Oh, yeah, the Butterfly Effect. Flap, flap, big storm a world away.'

  'Indeed. We fool ourselves into believing we understand cause and effect, but we see nothing, we know nothing. That is why you cannot plan to influence the world, for good or bad, in the same way that the butterfly cannot plan to create the storm. No one can predict the repercussions in a complex system. In the end, all you can do is trust your heart and hope.'

  'Then why are you so upbeat? It could all be trending towards misery.'

  'Because if you examine your own life, you will see that the universe is kindly and that it does its best to help you.'

  'Laura's right. You really are an old hippy.' Mallory sipped his ale, thoughtfully. 'So nobody knows anything, and we just trust our instincts?'

  'Our hearts.'

  'I wish I'd had somebody like you on our team to keep the morale up.'

  'Hal would have fulfilled that role if he had not become part of the Blue Fire.'

  'Be kind of good to get him back.' Mallory stirred uneasily. 'I still don't understand why there's only four of us. Every other team gets five, but us…' He shrugged. 'I keep expecting somebody new to walk through the door. I can't shake the feeling that something's missing.'