5
Though they were still a mile away, the Fortress of the Enemy loomed up high above their heads, casting a long, dark shadow across the blasted lands. Above the walls, the flying creatures swooped and soared, calling out harsh, mechanical cries. The air smelled like stagnant ponds on a hot day.
Church and the others had spent half the day seeking an alternative path that had allowed them to approach with a modicum of cover. A crevice cut through the hardpan towards the walls, and though it was not particularly deep it allowed them to get close without discovery so they could search for some point of entry.
Church brought them to a halt at the point where the crevice narrowed and rose over boulders. Crawling on his belly with Veitch beside him, he reached a vantage point where he could scan the remainder of the approach. A towering door of beaten black iron was set in the wall, but there was no other sign of access.
'See there?' Veitch indicated rows of small windows on the upper storeys. 'They'll be able to pick us off with arrows before we're halfway to the door. There's no way we'd be able to slip through anyway. There's probably an army of guards on the other side.'
'There's no point trying a frontal assault,' Church replied. 'We'll get nowhere. It's got to be subterfuge or nothing.'
'You're using big words again. What are you saying — we sneak in, in disguise or something?'
'Or something.'
'You're a crazy suicidal fucker.'
'Better idea?'
Shielding his eyes against the glare, Veitch looked along the length of the wall. 'I saw you sneak off with Ruthie last night,' he said incongruously.
'This isn't the time, Ryan.'
'Yeah, it is. We're not all coming out of this in one piece. We probably won't have another good time.'
Church sighed. 'We don't want this getting between us when we're inside.'
Veitch bristled. 'You think I'd let it? I know my duty.'
'I didn't mean to imply-'
'Yeah, you did. Nobody'd think you'd do that, but me — I'm just the thug, the right-hand man, the psycho who always lets his emotions get in the way of business.'
'What do you want, Ryan?'
'I want to be the good guy. I want to be the hero like you. I want everything you've got. Respect, just… people thinking well of you. I want Ruth.'
'I know you do.'
'And I know I'm not going to get her. I can see that, and wishing doesn't make it all right. Fairy-tale endings, they're for people like you. Not me.'
'Don't do yourself down. You're as good as any of us.'
'You've always stood by me, I know that. Makes me feel even more of a stupid bastard for the fucking awful things I did. And there it is — you're better 'cause you think things like that. And I'm worse, 'cause I think things like I did, and do things like I did. You're the hero deep inside. And I'm the fucking psycho. You always do the right thing, 'cause that's who you are. And I do the wrong thing. Give me two choices, and I'll always pick the wrong one.'
'You're here now. You came back to us. You didn't have to.'
'Yeah, but did I do it for the right reason, or because I wanted Ruth to think I was a big man? A good man. That's all I've ever wanted to be since I was a kid, and I want it even more now I've been such a nasty, vicious wanker — I want everybody to know that deep down I'm all right. That I can do the right thing. That I'm the hero.'
The emotions were so raw that Church didn't know how to answer him.
'I've had a bit of a wake-up call these last few days. I don't know where it'll take me yet, but I'm going to do my best not to be a selfish bastard. I won't try to steal Ruth away from you, however much I want to. Not that I even think I could, but I'm not going to try. I want you to know you don't have to worry about that. About me. I'll have your back in there. I'm trying to learn from you, because you're the best fucking example I've got in this world.'
'I'm a mess, Ryan.'
'Yeah, but you get over it. And I don't. And that's the difference between a hero and a wannabe. I don't want to be a wannabe. I want people to know I'm all right. And I want you to be the first. I'm going to be better than I was.'
'I trust you, Ryan. You don't have to worry about that.'
'Stop being so fucking noble, you cunt. Jesus. I'm never going to live up to your standards.' A grin broke through his troubled expression, and Church realised how much he liked him. 'It's you and me together, buddy. The last gang in town is going out fighting. We'll do our best. And if we don't win, we'll still have done our best.'
'That sounds like a better motto than mine.'
'What's yours?'
'No happy endings.'
'That's crap. At least I'm better than you at something.'
Breathlessly, Mallory slid in next to them. 'You need to see this.'
They crawled back on their bellies and pulled themselves up on the wall of the crevice where they could see a column of the Enemy approaching across the hardpan. At the head, Niamh rode on a black reptilian horse. Just behind her, Laura trudged, head down.
'She is with them,' Church said. 'I tried to believe there was some other explanation.'
'Still might be,' Veitch replied. 'Things aren't always how they seem. I should know.'
Church was distracted from his mounting despair at Laura's betrayal by the sight of Mallory's knuckles growing white where he gripped the rock.
'That bitch.' Mallory blinked away a tear of rage. A shudder ran through him.
'Laura?' Church asked.
'Niamh.' Mallory steadied himself. 'I don't know why I feel so bad. But I see her, and I just want to get out there and kill her.' He looked away. 'I don't understand what's wrong with me at the moment. I keep feeling really strong emotions, but I don't know where they're coming from.'
In contrast, Church felt a damp sense of dismay when he saw what had become of Niamh, all-pervasive like the cold of a midwinter day. He recalled her on their long trek across the years together, on a warm night on the road from Rome, or in a New England autumn, when she had been consumed with love for him. He had never felt the same depth of emotion back, but her attention and care for him had been endearing, and had kept him going during his darkest hours.
Her transformation was baffling, and he fought to comprehend it. The answer came when he saw Tom crouched down at the foot of the crevice, lost to his dismal thoughts, not the Tom he recalled either but one who yearned for death.
'I made her that way,' he said quietly. Devastation descended on him. 'I turned the Axis of Existence and altered events, saved Tom and Niamh, and probably a load of other stuff I don't even know about. But every change has unforeseen consequences.' He chewed his lip in dismay. 'Every bad thing she's done in this form, it's my fault.'
The confession hit Mallory hard. Staring at Church, he struggled with the mysterious tides of his powerful emotions, then, unable to comprehend or contain them, he gave in and with an anguished roar drew his sword and half-scrambled over the lip of the crevice.
Church and Veitch dragged him back, too late. A cry went up and the ground vibrated with feet running in their direction.
'That's torn it!' Veitch wrenched out his sword, the blue and black flames surging, entwining.
'Sorry. Hell, what's wrong with me!' Mallory raged.
Church gripped his arm, steadied him. 'Forget it. Fight!'
Blue Flames whooshed as they drew their swords together. All three of them were stunned by the way the fire from the three blades funnelled together, twisting in complex shapes, interacting, throwing out bolts of crackling energy.
It echoed within each of them, feeding the Pendragon Spirit so they felt unbelievably stronger, more confident.
'The Three Great Swords of Existence!' they heard an awed Tom exclaim behind them. 'In use together for the first time in generations. Three become one!'
They had no time to consider what it meant. The first brutish creatures appeared at the lip of the crevice.
'We've got to get out of here!
' Veitch yelled. 'They'll just pick us off one by one trapped down here!'
Church scrambled back along the crevice with Ruth, Shavi, Caitlin and Tom close behind, and Mallory and Veitch protecting the rear. Scrabbling for footholds, Church propelled himself up the opposite wall of the crevice and out onto the hardpan. The roar that greeted him from the enemy was deafening. At the same time he saw activity along the rows of windows in the Fortress wall. In the midst of the action, his attention alighted on two things: the delight that came to Niamh's face, not that of someone who spies a former lover, but something cruel and sadistic; and the devastation that marred Laura's battered features.
Battle cries that sounded like the roars of hungry animals filled the air. The enemy streamed across the narrowest gap in the crevice, and within seconds Church was fighting for his life. The brutish creatures moved with the speed and strength of gorillas, using their long arms to propel themselves forwards before slashing in a frenzied manner with short, serrated swords. Bracing himself, Church hacked with Caledfwlch, but each collision was so bone-jarring that he was almost thrown from his feet.
Within seconds, Veitch and Mallory were at his side and he felt his strength and stamina increase proportionately. The air was red with blood-mist and lit with the electric sizzle of the Blue Fire, dancing around them as though it was alive.
'Nice one, Mallory,' Veitch shouted between attacks. 'Why didn't you send up flares while you were at it?'
'I didn't want you to get lonely doing all the screwing up.' Mallory's Templar swordsmanship was more controlled than the other two, and he carved through two for every one Church and Veitch took down with their self-taught skill.
For several minutes, the world was just the hard-fought few feet around them, where the dismembered bodies piled up and their own lives were challenged every second. But then they each became aware of activity beyond their sphere.
A gap in the attacking bodies revealed Ruth transformed into a furious elemental force, her hair whirling about her head, Blue Fire crackling off her and the Spear of Lugh, which she wielded with brutal efficiency. Attackers she didn't even touch flew back from the force of invisible hands. Others were turned inside out, or had their eyes boiled in their heads.
'Bleedin' hell,' Veitch said. 'You're not going to want to get in a fight with her.'
Beyond Ruth, Caitlin was a force of nature too. Her eyes blazed as she carved a path through the brutish creatures with her axe, which whirled so fast it was barely visible. Heads split in two, limbs were cleaved, and while she was striking with one arm, she was tearing out throats with the other. When one attacker broke through her defences, Caitlin effortlessly clamped her teeth on his jugular and ripped it away; blood drenched her hair and face, but she never missed a step. The savagery of her attack was counterpointed by the eerie calmness of her face.
'We're the A-Team,' Veitch said, gutting another attacker.
As the waves of brutish creatures thinned out, Church dared to hope they had survived the onslaught. But then Niamh's shrill laughter echoed nearby, and the attackers came to a halt.
Through some trickery, Niamh had got the better of Ruth, who now slumped in a daze at Niamh's feet, a knife at her throat.
'My rival of the heart for so long, through all those years of my awakening to the pain of human existence, and here she is, finally at my mercy.' Niamh laughed. 'Oh, how different things would have been if I had cut the life from her all those times ago.' Niamh looked directly at Church, no hurt in her eyes, just cruel glee. 'And now she is here, I have no true need of her death, for I have already got you, my sweet, in a form that is better than the one you now occupy, stronger, more attuned to me. I have won. And she has lost, because I will have you for ever, and she will not. Though she no longer matters to me one jot, I will kill her anyway, because I can. Because it will drive you into my arms, soon now, just a little way along this road.'
Church froze. Was this it? The moment of shattering devastation that would transform him into the Libertarian? He looked at Ruth, the knife at her throat, and his heart broke. Nothing mattered more than keeping her alive; not the destruction of all Existence, all his friends, his sanity, his soul. Nothing.
At the great Fortress wall, the enormous gates rattled open slowly. The black gulf grew wider, like a monstrous mouth, and then light flooded in to reveal a sea of misshapen creatures poised to spill out across the hardpan.
Mallory let his sword drop to his side. 'This is starting to look like game over.'
Church turned his attention from the reinforcements back to Niamh's hard smile, and then to the knife poised a fraction of an inch from destroying his world. And then Ruth's eyes snapped open, her lips moved and after the disconnection of a second, a word of power boomed out. A bolt of Blue Fire seared across Niamh's face and into the silver sky where it exploded like fireworks. Screaming, Niamh staggered back, clutching her face. One side of her shimmering golden features was seared black, the sun being eaten by the moon.
Caitlin grabbed Ruth's arm and hauled her towards Church, Veitch and Mallory. In the lull, Shavi and Tom clambered out of their shelter in the crevice and faced the oncoming horde.
'Hundreds of them,' Veitch said. The bleak edge to his voice stung them all.
'No point running,' Mallory said. 'Got to die sometime.'
'I always planned on picking my moment,' Veitch said. 'Fuck.'
'The bad news never stops coming.' Tom was facing away from the Fortress, looking out across the hardpan. The others turned to see what had caught his attention.
Glistening like oil, a black wave washed across the hardpan. On skittering insect legs, the Fomorii came, their forms changing as they moved, plates clanking into place, spikes bursting from the gleaming carapaces, wings unfurling. Thousands of the shape-shifting beasts converged on the Fortress gates.
'They found their way through the Groghaan Gate,' Church said.
'This is just overkill.' Mallory turned slowly to take in the full weight of the forces ranged against them. On the lip of the crevice, the tiny knot of Brothers and Sisters of Dragons was at the eye of a hurricane of savage enemies. Amidst a deafening, full-throated clamour, the Void's army continued to surge out of the Fortress, like the flow from a disturbed anthill. The Fomorii were almost upon them too, the low rumble of their call and response now resonating in the pits of their stomachs.
Church felt for Ruth's hand, and they exchanged one brief, painful look of regret.
'We always knew it would come down to this, right?' Veitch said. 'People like us, we were never going to win.'
'Speak for yourself,' Mallory muttered. He eyed Caitlin, wishing his friend was there, but seeing only the grim face of the Morrigan.
'Laura ought to be here,' Shavi said. 'We should all be together at the end.' Searching the swelling ranks, Shavi finally glimpsed her casting one desperate look his way before moving towards the Fortress gates of her own accord. His heart sank.
As Church prepared for the wave to break over them, he realised something odd was happening. The Fomorii had moved into a crescent formation, the twin horns bypassing the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons. His first thought was that they were completing the circle, but they continued with mounting speed until they crashed with the force of a tsunami on the disoriented ranks of the Enemy.
Church had forgotten the sheer ferocity of the Nightwalkers. The Fomorii ripped through the brutish creatures, the Lament-Brood, the Redcaps, as if they were sheep. Razor-sharp limbs and snapping jaws churned up a fountain of body parts, bones and blood, as if the Enemy had been put through a giant mincer. A red haze came down, making it impossible to see more than a few yards ahead.
The unthinking enemy army put up a fierce resistance, seemingly oblivious to their own impending destruction. By sheer weight of numbers they bought down several of the Fomorii. But soon paths were being carved through their ranks and the flow from the gates was reversed: the retreat had been announced.
Church and the other
s shielded themselves from the wild, bloody storm in the reaches of the crevice, but as it moved towards the Fortress wall, they clambered out to witness the carnage. A red slurry lay across the ochre hardpan. Along the walls, some of the Fomorii harried the last of the Enemy left out in the open after the gates were closed, while others threw themselves at the walls, attempting to break through or scale them.
'What the hell?' Mallory said. 'Never saw that one coming.'
'I… I think that may explain it,' Ruth gasped.
Making his way across the hardpan with a piratical swagger was Hunter. Behind him trailed Miller, Jack and Virginia, all in the bizarre shadow of a hooded giant.
Stunned, Church and the others could only gape as Hunter offered a broad grin and a wave. 'Missed me?' he said.
'We thought you were dead,' Shavi replied. 'All of you.'
'Takes more than a few-hundred-foot fall to kill me. I'm a hard, hard man.' He nodded towards Miller. 'Besides, when you've got Doctor Miller here with his healing hands, anything is possible.'
Church shook his hand forcefully. 'It's good to have you back, Hunter.'
'Who's the big guy?' Veitch asked.
'My new brother. Yeah, probably wouldn't be a good idea to antagonise him. He gets under your skin and into your head, and not in a good way.'
Ruth looked towards the Fomorii. 'How did you-?'
'Him too.'
While Mallory hugged Miller, then Virginia, and clapped Jack on the back with honest relief, Shavi said with cautious sensitivity, 'We feared you had been murdered by Laura. She has not been herself.'
'You always did have a way with words,' Hunter said noncommittally. His grin remained broad.
'Did she attack you?' Ruth pressed.
'Not something we need to think about right now.'
'It's something you need to think about very shortly,' Tom said sharply. 'She's working with the Enemy. She's inside the Fortress. With all she knows about us and our plans, she could cause untold damage.'
'I'll deal with her,' Hunter said. He removed the Balor Claw from his backpack and slipped it on.
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