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Destroyer of Worlds kots-3

Page 36

by Mark Chadbourn


  'What's that?' Church asked suspiciously.

  'Nice, isn't it?' Hunter turned it so it caught the harsh light. 'I think it adds to my flamboyant appeal. Got to look good going into battle.'

  'Hunter, I know how much you cared for Laura,' Ruth pressed. 'I know you must be devastated by what she did to you. It's okay to let it out.'

  'Nothing to let out, beautiful.'

  'Just… just don't hurt her. Whatever she's done, she's still one of us,' Ruth said, unsettled by his calm demeanour.

  'Don't worry, I'll be gentle.'

  'Virginia can lead us inside the Fortress?' Church asked.

  'There's a dry river bed about a mile that way.' Hunter indicated east. 'It runs close to the walls. Somewhere along it there's the remains of an underground tributary. Follow that and it'll bring you through run-off channels to the lowest levels of the Fortress. Apparently it's pretty deserted down there, so we should be able to move quickly to a good proximity of where we need to be.'

  'I don't think we should travel together,' Church said.

  'I agree.'

  'Are you mad?' Ruth said. 'Haven't you seen a hundred horror films where the team splits up only to get picked off one by one?'

  'We need to maximise our chances of somebody getting through,' Church said. 'If we're all travelling together we're easy to find — and to kill.'

  'If you want my advice, you should lead your original lot,' Hunter said. 'Mallory and Caitlin work well together. Looks like they've still got Hal in the lantern. That makes a team. I'll take Miller, Jack — the Two Keys — and Virginia. We've got a good rhythm going.'

  'Mallory can take the Extinction Shears so we haven't got all our resources together,' Church said.

  'I'll look for Laura first,' Hunter said. 'Neutralise the fact that she could upset the apple cart. Then I'll head for the reunion.' He ignored Ruth's searching gaze.

  'How will we know where and when to meet up?' Shavi asked.

  'My new pal.' Hunter indicated the giant who was standing motionless on the fringes, his head cocked to one side. 'He's some kind of mentalist — reads minds, talks to you in your head. Weird as hell, but it works. He's the link for group communication, and he can also perceive any potential threats upcoming on our routes. And guide me to Laura.'

  'Sounds like a plan.' The relief in Church's voice was palpable. 'I thought we were done for. Now we're back on course. I'll tell the others.'

  Veitch and Hunter were left alone. 'You and me, we're alike,' Veitch said, gently clanking his silver hand against the Balor Claw. 'Same basic abilities, same psycho-skills for killing. You're smarter by a long way, and I'm not going to be copying your fashion sense, but we're on the same wavelength, right?'

  Hunter nodded, wondering where Veitch was going with this line of thought.

  'I might be a thick-headed git from South London, but that doesn't mean I don't learn from my mistakes,' Veitch continued. 'So whatever you're planning for Laura, give her a break. Things might not be how they seem. I know how you can end up doing stuff that you'd never normally do. Her and me, we've never seen eye to eye, but deep down her heart's in the right place. For her sake… and for yours… don't do something you'll regret for the rest of your life.'

  'Thanks for the advice.'

  They nodded curtly and separated. Veitch hoped he'd done enough; Hunter was impossible to read, but Veitch was afraid they really were too much alike.

  While Mallory and Caitlin examined the unnervingly weak flame in the Wayfinder, and Hunter regaled the others with a brief but dramatic version of his journey from Winter-side, Church and Ruth returned to Veitch.

  'Everything is going in the right direction now,' Ruth said. 'We've eased the tensions amongst us. We've turned you away from the Libertarian-'

  'No, we haven't,' Church said bluntly. A shadow crossed his face. 'If everything was going fine, he'd be here, making our lives a misery every step of the way. But he's not, he's sitting back somewhere, and that means he still thinks things are on course.'

  'But what can go wrong now?' Ruth said. 'We're together.' She squeezed his hand tightly. 'You said that it was something to do with you and me that tips you over to become the Libertarian — we're not going to let that happen.'

  The defiance in her voice failed to move him. A black mood welled up in Church, all his fears laid bare, and Ruth realised how much he had been suppressing it. She couldn't bear to see that raw emotion etched in his face.

  'We don't know what's ahead,' he said. 'We can mitigate against it as much as possible, but… we don't know. One thing's for sure — I will never let myself become the Libertarian. I've already seen some of the misery my stupid, thoughtless actions have caused. I'm not going to have any more on my conscience. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure the Libertarian's future doesn't come to pass.'

  Grim-faced, Church marched away. Ruth watched him go, her heart breaking.

  'We're going to keep an eye on him, all right?' Veitch said.

  Ruth cast a quizzical glance his way.

  'Nah, it's not some ploy to win your heart. I'm a simple bloke — I don't do things like that.' He watched Church kneel and hug Virginia tightly, as much to find comfort for himself as for her. 'Our lives are like some bad soap most of the time, but here we're right down to the wire and everything has to change. We've passed the point where we can indulge ourselves with little games. It's about survival now. And we all need to look after each other, because we're friends. More than friends, maybe. Family, in a stupid, screwed-up kind of way. From here on in, we're looking out for each other, watching backs, carrying the weight.'

  'What's come over you, Ryan?'

  'You know us working-class boys — we're hard as nails but we're sentimental as fuck.' He paused. 'I love you.'

  'Ryan-'

  'Don't say anything, you stupid tosser. I love you and I want you to be happy, all the time, ever after, and if that means you're with Church, well, that's the way things are meant to be.' He glanced after Church. 'And I love him too, like a brother. He's blood. The bloke I admire most in the world. That's why I was so desperate to kill him. Make sense?'

  'Only in your strange, warped world, Ryan.' She tried to make light, but she felt all her emotion on the point of bursting out. Too much stress, she told herself. Calm down.

  'We're all he's got — you, me, Shavi, Tom. He needs us to look out for him, to keep him safe, to stop him doing something stupid. And that's what we're going to do, right? We're going to look after him, and keep him safe. Whatever it takes. Because he needs us.'

  'You're rambling, Ryan.'

  'Yeah, sorry.'

  'I love you too.' She surprised him with a kiss on the cheek and then went after Church.

  He knew what it really meant and he wasn't disappointed. It was, quite honestly, the best moment in his entire life, better even than the mermaids swimming beside the boat on the way to Caldey Island. He didn't need anything more now.

  6

  Along the great Fortress wall, the Fomorii swarmed. Some climbed and ripped out chunks around the windows, ignoring the clouds of flaming arrows that emerged from within. Others crashed against the great gates. It was only a matter of time before they broke through the defences.

  'Death is all around, brother,' said El-Di-Gah-Wis-Lor, the final judgement of the Drakusa. Blinded by his hood, the giant saw everything. 'I feel it circling, shifting the patterns of this world, leaving marks and symbols that tell of its passing. A shadow where none should be. A cloud in the shape of a skull. Random grains of sand that spell a dead lover's name. The others do not notice these things, but they feel it, sometimes. A shiver. A moment of emptiness. A question on their lips.'

  'Yep, this time we're bringing death on a grand scale, and you're helping me do it,' Hunter said. 'I've always hated my strength, but sometimes you've just got to recognise what you're good at and go with it.' He watched the Fomorii in action. 'I hope they're enough to get things moving.'

  'They will suff
ice for now. There are more things on the way.'

  'Yeah?' Hunter shrugged. 'Funny how things turn out. All these little coincidences. Me stumbling across you, you saving my life. Your presence saving the lives of the others. Now this.'

  'There are no coincidences, brother.'

  'Maybe you're right.'

  The giant turned and looked into the sky behind him.

  'What do you see?'

  'The opposite of us, brother.'

  Beyond the deafening rending and tearing of the Fomorii, Hunter could just make out another sound, drawing nearer. 'Wings?'

  From the far horizon came the Fabulous Beasts. He counted seven; there could be more behind. The one at the head was larger and even more magnificent than the rest, the steady rhythm of its leathern wings like a heartbeat. Its jewelled scales gleamed, and the myriad colours, and the sheer wonder that it evoked deep inside him made the desolation of the blasted lands insignificant, a grey shadow that would fade in the first rays of the sun.

  Hunter watched the Beasts pass over and for the first time in his life felt at peace. The downdraught from the wings ruffled his hair and the shadows passing over were cool and refreshing. Sinuously, the Fabulous Beasts arched and then drove down towards the Fortress, performing an intricate, breathtaking ballet in the air above it.

  The greatest one was the first to release a blast of liquid fire that sent a geyser of rubble blasting into the air and set alight a large area of the Fortress. Soon the others were diving and releasing their terrible flame. The Fortress shook and large sections of the wall fell away to reveal the swarming insect life within. The glorious blaze leaped up to the sky, pouring thick black smoke that for the first time obscured the shape of the Burning Man. The heat was so intense that Hunter could feel it on his face a mile distant.

  'Game on,' he said.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Great Hour Of Destiny

  1

  As the glamour faded, the world rushed in to greet them. Overseeing the hellish scene with a sick fascination, Ronnie recalled the Somme with a clarity that made him shudder, the carpet of bodies so thick you could walk across it without touching earth, the pall of choking smoke, the plague of rats and the rain-lashed trenches.

  'Ronnie? You okay?' Doctor Jay shook his arm.

  'Yes. Of course. Fine as a fiddle.'

  The sky was black with greasy, sulphurous smoke, the harsh red and gold glare of the blazing fortress like a dying sun in the depths of space. In the gloom all around, the Army of Dragons and the ranks of the gods waited patiently for Ronnie's order.

  Bitterly, he recalled Haig's plan that could not fail: a seven-day bombardment to destroy the German defences and then the order to advance to pick off the disoriented survivors. So terribly flawed. Fifty-eight thousand British troops dead or mutilated in one day alone. The machine guns cutting bodies in two. Was Haig haunted by his failure? Ronnie wondered. How could he possibly live with himself after that?

  'War demands the best of us.' Aula was at his shoulder, calm and steady in a way that he had never seen her before; there was more of Decebalus in her than she liked to reveal. 'We fight for the right reasons, and it demands sacrifices,' she continued. 'And sacrifices of our own souls, for we are forced to give up a part of ourselves that we would never have relinquished before. It destroys the person we were and we can never recover, but we do it so that others can live the lives we cannot.'

  'I'm prepared for my own sacrifice, ma'am.'

  'And everyone here has signed that compact too. Trust yourself. Never forget why we do what we do. Never forget the humanity of the people who fight. With those two things in mind, your decisions will be true.'

  Ronnie took a deep breath. 'Doctor Jay… Aula… thank you for your counsel.'

  'We're all in it together, man. Don't forget that,' the Doctor said.

  Ronnie strode out along the lines and gave the order. There was only a briefest tinge of self-doubt, and then he turned his attention to the battle. Thor, Tyr and Ares raced ahead with insane glee. The Japanese war god Bishamon was more measured. But those who marched into the fray with the greatest dignity were the Tuatha De Danaan, Lugh at their head, glowing like a sun. There was a great sadness about them, but also a fierce determination; for the first time Ronnie thought they truly did resemble gods.

  As they neared, a thousand thousand flaming arrows erupted from the Fortress windows, the stars coming down to earth.

  The final battle began.

  2

  Even far underground, the tremors reverberated from the constant fusillade. Dust and fragments showered down until the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons feared that the rock overhead was on the point of collapse. They had made their way along the dead riverbed and through Virginia's network of crawl-spaces into the lower reaches of the Fortress with speed. Their parting of the ways had been swift, with nods and hugs, none of them knowing if they would ever see each other again.

  Now Hunter climbed steps that had the sickly texture of meat with the whisper of his brother giant in his head. Following in his footsteps came Virginia, seeming to carry a great age with her now that she was back in the place of torment, then Jack, serious and intent, and a frightened Miller at the rear.

  The steps opened onto a narrow corridor running along the Fortress wall overlooking the battle. The heat there was intense. Charred bodies lined the way, and thick smoke rolled in through gaping holes. A few Lament-Brood fought mechanically with Fomorii warriors clinging to the outside wall.

  The Balor Claw sang as Hunter moved swiftly down the corridor, taking apart any Enemy he met. A branching corridor led them deep into the heart of the Fortress. At one point the route was blocked from wall to wall by a solid column of Lament-Brood marching towards the front line. The Balor Claw reduced them to nothing in minutes. Hunter pushed on relentlessly. Jack, who knew him best, could not read his mood: anger, desperation, grief, something of all three? Mostly, he appeared impassive, as though the enemy warriors he was despatching were little more than a distraction, and for the first time Jack felt chilled by what he saw there.

  They emerged into a courtyard where a carpet of bones covered the flags. In the centre stood a wooden post from which several chains hung.

  When Virginia saw it she began to sob, sucking in huge mouthfuls of air. Jack and Miller tried to comfort her, but she broke free from them and raced towards a low building on the right-hand side of the court.

  Hunter cursed loudly. 'That's the wrong way!'

  'You can't leave her alone in this place!' Miller protested.

  Without hesitation, Hunter raced in pursuit of the young girl. Fleet of foot, she moved rapidly through the low building to a dark, stinking room on the far side. Hunter caught up with her standing in the doorway, still sobbing. She flinched when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

  As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, Hunter saw that the room was filled with people wearing clothes from many periods of Earth's history. They were dirty, bloody, beaten down; some had lost eyes, limbs, some had been so hideously scarred they didn't lift their faces from the floor. The room was thick with their own filth, and around the edge many decomposing bodies lay.

  'Who are these people?' Breathless on his arrival, Miller quickly came close to tears.

  'People the Void stole from Earth to work here in the Fortress.' Jack's grim face resembled a skull in the half-light. Hunter knew he was remembering his own kidnapping from his mother's side and his long, agonising incarceration in the Court of the Final Word.

  'Are your people here?' Hunter asked gently.

  Virginia was rigid; it was somehow worse than her crying.

  'Virginia?' The voice was barely more than a croak rustling out from the depths of the dark.

  'Mama?' Virginia started, and then hurried into the room. She came to a halt next to a woman who could have been in her forties but looked thirty years older. Kneeling amidst the filth, she had lost half her hair, and her forearms were so badly sca
rred they were pink and raw. Virginia buried her face in the woman's neck, whimpering.

  'Virginia, why did you come back here?' her mother said. 'You were free of the pestilential torments inflicted in this place.'

  'Mama, Mr Hunter is here to save us.'

  The woman looked up at Hunter with eyes that scarcely dared believe. 'You are here to deliver us from this place?'

  Whispers leaped from person to person, spreading rapidly around the room. Desperate hands clutched at Hunter's legs. Others tried to stand, or dragged themselves towards him.

  'No pressure, then,' Hunter muttered to himself. 'Yes, I'm here to help,' he announced. 'That noise you hear is this place being taken apart brick by brick. There'll be no more suffering. Stay here a while longer — it's dangerous out there. But don't worry — we're going to free you.'

  Anguished cries of relief were joined by loud prayers of thanks. 'Don't worry, Mama,' Virginia said, stroking her mother's head. 'Mr Hunter and his friends are good and true. Our saviours. God has answered all our pleas.' Her mother began to cry silently.

  Hunter crouched down and said to Virginia reassuringly, 'You stay here and look after your mum, okay? I'll be back for you when this business is finished.'

  Smiling for the first time since Hunter had met her, Virginia nodded eagerly.

  Out in the courtyard, Miller said, 'See, Mr Hunter, everyone can see you're a good man.'

  'Shut up, Miller, or I'll be forced to slap you around.'

  Miller winked at Jack. 'Just like my friend, Ryan.'

  The giant's whispers returned to Hunter's head, guiding him quickly through a maze of buildings, corridors and stairs until he reached a tower of gleaming obsidian. Barely able to keep up, Jack gasped, 'Is this where Laura is?'

  'On her way to the top. You stay down here.'

  Racing into the tower, Hunter took the steps two at a time, the Balor Claw scraping loudly on the stone as he rounded the spiral. Footsteps echoed from above. The stairs opened out into a room covering the entire floor of the tower, with large windows ranged around the circumference. Through one Hunter could see part of the Burning Man, unsettlingly close; figures writhed in agony within the outline. Through the others the Fortress blazed, the Fabulous Beasts sinuously riding the air currents. The beat of their wings was deafening.

 

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