The Return of the Arinn

by Frank P. Ryan

  *

  Back beneath the dome of St Paul’s, Gully and Penny detached themselves from one another’s arms, although Gully’s eyes were still clenched shut.

  ‘You can open your eyes now, Gully. The Rose is gone. Listen, if you don’t believe me. You won’t hear it thundering anymore. Padraig sent it back to where it came from.’

  Gully didn’t ask her to explain. He opened his eyes to see her sprint forward and round the back of the altar. When he followed, he found her inspecting the stained glass windows of the American Chapel.

  He heard her exclaim: ‘Thank goodness – they’re intact.’

  He followed on after another sprint, to reach a side door to the right of the main altar that was ajar onto the garden.The wind was blowing snow in through the open door. She was staring out of it with such a forlorn look on her face that he put his arms around her again. Then he led her back to the tiled circle under the dome, where they both looked up at the light falling through the high windows.

  She said: ‘Do you know what date it is?’

  ‘I got no idea, gel.’

  ‘I was hoping it might be spring leading into summer.’

  Gully shrugged. ‘I don’t fink so.’

  ‘You know that Americans call autumn the fall. I like that. It seems such a perfect match for the spring. Spring and fall. They go together – don’t you think?’

  He just held her. It felt so good to be allowed to hold her at last, he never ever wanted to let her go again.

  ‘Summer and winter are fine. They sound perfect as they are.’

  She made him let her go so she could dance again, her bare feet spinning in the dust and her face turned up to the shower of light.

  He said: ‘Was it you wot saved St Paul’s?’

  ‘It was part of my bargain with Jeremiah. Oh, he tricked me, Gully. He wasn’t what he pretended to be.’ She closed her eyes, though he could see the lids fluttering with excitement. Then she opened them again to look at him, with a fierce, uncompromising gaze. ‘But, still, he kept his side of the bargain.’

  ‘Penny, you got to forget about him.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d be capable of forgetting. Jeremiah showed me how to do things.’ She looked like she wanted to pirouette again but resisted the temptation. Her expression grew more serious. ‘He showed me things.’

  ‘Wot fings?’

  ‘He explained the Akkharu to me – they helped me recreate the new city you are about to see. It was amazing to build something beautiful from the ruins. But it was just part of my learning curve as far as Jeremiah was concerned. Jeremiah showed me that there was no morality in nature. But he couldn’t see that we humans aren’t obliged to follow suit.’

  Gully stared at her, ignoring her strange words. He felt lost in her, lost in the fact his Penny was here next to him.

  She must have read his mind, because she laughed. ‘Oh, Gully!’ She looked wistful for a moment. But then she seemed to become altogether calm and collected again. ‘I think you’ve grown into a man.’

  Gully shrugged. ‘There’s no bleedin’ food no more. An’ no Our Place to hide.’

  ‘We’ll find a new Our Place.’

  ‘Like where, exactly?’

  ‘I’ve something to show you.’

  Gully stared in open-mouthed disbelief as the great tiled circle, with its inner star, rose up out of the floor. Once standing perpendicular, it began to spin to form a giant sphere, which filled up with light.

  Penny took him by the hand and she led him onto the sphere. ‘Close your eyes again if you feel dizzy,’ she said.

  ‘We goin’ someplace then?’

  ‘Some place that can’t be explained in words . . .’

  Acknowledgements

  As always throughout this series I owe my deeply felt thanks to my publisher, Jo Fletcher, who first commissioned The Three Powers, and has been a steadfast supporter throughout. I should also acknowledge the contribution of my editor, Nicola Budd, who has been invaluable in knocking my creative thoughts into the shape it finally took on the pages. It is a special pleasure to thank my agent of many years, Leslie Gardner, who became the all-important go-between from the beginning, and who supported and made helpful suggestions throughout. It was a wounding blow indeed when my mother, who had inspired my love for the magical landscapes and legends of my youth, did not survive to see the series come to this conclusion. But I still hear her songs in my head and am comforted, and ever inspired by them.