He was concerned about her too; it was visible in his face whenever they were together, and after their decision to travel to the Grim Lands it had become even more intense.
Mallory believed the Morrigan was a corruption that would eventually eat away the essence of the Caitlin he knew. How could she explain to him that she finally felt whole? With the Morrigan inside her, doubts faded like the morning mist. Her slowly creeping, black despair was now walled off. Her mind was clear and fresh, her thoughts sharp, and she fizzed with an energy and unshakable vision. It was almost like a drug. It was almost as if it was meant to be.
Mallory took her to one side. ‘Church and the others are getting a briefing from Decebalus on the gods and the readiness of the Army of Dragons, but he’ll be along if you need him.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re sure?’ he pressed.
‘As a Sister of Dragons, they’d listen to me, but you know they’ve got a deep-seated prejudice against Fragile Creatures. With the Morrigan inside me, though, I’m one of them - they have to listen. Doubly so, because they’re scared of the Morrigan, and a Sister of Dragons and the Morrigan combined is just too much for them to contemplate.’
‘If you can’t win them over with rational argument, give them your spooky stare and terrify them into submission. Nice strategy.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Good luck.’
As Mallory left, Hunter sauntered up, seemingly oblivious to the weight of the historic occasion. ‘Still no sign of the last two courts,’ he noted.
‘So we’re missing the Unseelie Court and the Court of the Final Word.’
‘Yeah, I wouldn’t hold my breath for that last one.’
‘Oh.’
‘We had a bit of a falling out.’
‘That’s never stopped them before,’ Caitlin said, puzzled.
‘They had a lot of big plans. But in the end they came to nothing.’ Hunter smiled tightly.
Caitlin shrugged. ‘Apparently the Unseelie Court hates everybody, and they’ve got a real grudge against the human race from hundreds of years ago.’
‘So this is it - eighteen of the twenty Great Courts.’ He looked around at the silent ranks glowing in the sun with a diffuse golden light. ‘All the arrogant bastards hanging on the words of one Fragile Creature.’ He surprised her with a kiss on the cheek. ‘Knock ’em dead. Literally, if possible.’
Hunter joined Mallory, Lugh and Rhiannon on the edge of the floor and Caitlin immediately went to the Speaker’s position.
‘These are the End-Times,’ she said in a strong, clear voice. ‘You know it in your hearts. You can feel the ashes on the wind. And if you still doubt, you can look up into the sky and see the Burning Man looking back, ready to judge you. I know for a race like the Golden Ones it’s easy to dismiss these signs. You have existed - and exerted your power - far beyond the time of Fragile Creatures, and all other beings in the Far Lands and the Fixed Lands. You have always believed this rule would continue for all time. Unshakable. Yet I know you understand the rules of Existence, and that you know the most important one, for the wiser ones amongst you have stated it many times - there is always something higher. What you now face is higher. And you have been expecting this time because it holds such a powerful place in your own stories and mythology: the time when the Devourer of All Things will return to end the days of gods and men, to wipe the board clean, and to set out its dark vision for a new age.’
As she looked around the audience, Caitlin experienced a startling moment of clarity. Once again she was the small-town doctor whose only aim in life was to heal the people who came to her. And here she was addressing a congregation of gods. She was so out of her depth it was laughable. Yet, astonishingly, they were heeding her every word.
The power of the Tuatha Dé Danaan was so great she could feel the throb of it in the air. Some of the lower ranks had the plasticky features of shop dummies, as though they had been freshly minted. But the oldest were barely human in shape at all; some she perceived only as balls of brilliant light, and amongst those, she knew, was the one the others spoke of in reverent tones as the Dagda.
‘This is an historic meeting,’ she continued. ‘The first time the Great Courts have joined for a council since you left the four cities of your homeland. You’re all suspicious of each other, I know that. But above all you recognise that this is about the survival of your race.’
Caitlin placed one hand on the Wish-Post. In the air above it, an image coalesced until everyone in the room felt as if they were standing amidst the scene they witnessed. There was the Enemy Fortress sprawling on a scale that took the breath away, the smell of rotting meat and burning, clouds of greasy smoke obscuring the sky, the constant beat of heavy machinery. Overhead, the Burning Man glowed through the billowing smoke. The image closed in on the shape until everyone could see the figures writhing within the conflagration.
‘You always thought yourselves the most powerful things in Existence, but in the end that’s all you are - fuel,’ Caitlin continued. ‘The Burning Man has been created to provide a space in which the Void can manifest some aspect of itself. Its power is normally diffuse across the entire universe, a faint background energy that keeps the whole mess running. It needs to focus that power in one place, at one time, to change the structure of things. It already has immeasurable power - enough to transform the Fixed Lands with the help of its agents, the Army of the Ten Billion Spiders. So why does it need to come here? Why is it intent on drawing itself into an overwhelming force? Because it knows its success is not guaranteed. It knows that somewhere in this land are the keys to a force that could stop it in its tracks, perhaps even destroy it.’
The image above the Wish-Post changed to a view over the great megalithic structure at Callanish on the north-west coast of the Scottish Isle of Lewis. In the hazy pre-dawn, the standing stones shone like silver against the rolling green landscape shaped by the blasting Atlantic gales. As the golden rays from the rising sun touched one of the stones, lines of Blue Fire ran out in all directions, crossing, interlinking, until an intricate network blazed across the landscape. A communal intake of breath whispered around the chamber.
‘The Blue Fire is the mark of Existence in our reality,’ Caitlin said. ‘It is the lifeblood, flowing through everything. Can you feel its power?’
The Wish-Post ensured the observers lived the image it revealed. An exhilarating feeling of rejuvenation, of hope and awe, connected everyone in the room.
‘Existence is the equal and opposite of the Devourer of All Things. Life to the Void’s Anti-Life. Hope to its despair. And small shards of Existence are embedded in all Fragile Creatures. We call it the Pendragon Spirit. The Brothers and Sisters of Dragons can access that power, but soon all Fragile Creatures will be able to bring it to life inside them. You call us Fragile Creatures, but we are not. We are gods, all of us.’
Caitlin expected some resistance, but as she looked around the intense, beautiful faces, she saw the first signs of mute acceptance.
‘The Pendragon Spirit was planted in Fragile Creatures at the very beginning, and it is there for a reason,’ she continued. ‘It’s the secret weapon, ready to be unleashed when we need it most. And that time is now. The final battle with the Void, to decide our survival or destruction, to decide the shape of all reality to come. The biggest stakes of all.’
Amidst the thunder of the blood in her head, she could hear the Morrigan urging her on.
‘This is not the time for the Golden Ones to remain aloof, or to indulge in petty squabbles amongst yourselves. This is the time to reach your potential - to rise above your limitations, put aside your arrogance and recover humility. To reach out to those who can help you, and thereby help yourselves. Individually, we can achieve nothing. Together we can change reality.’
Caitlin searched the faces for some sign that she was winning them over, but they all remained implacable.
‘I hereby call upon the Great Courts of the Golden Ones to stand together
as one, united for the first time since you left your homeland. I ask you to join with the other gods, your cousins from across the Great Dominions, to create the greatest force the Far Lands have ever seen. And I call on you to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, as allies in this great war.
‘Stand now with the Kingdom of the Serpent, which symbolises the full force of Existence and the power of the Blue Fire. Together we can defeat the Kingdom of the Spider. Together we can win.’
A long moment of silence followed her words, until Lugh said loudly, ‘The Court of Soul’s Ease stands with the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, as equals and allies.’
One by one, the kings and queens of the Great Courts rose to announce their support in steady, if at times bemused, voices. Her heart pounding, Caitlin glanced towards Mallory who nodded in return. She felt warmed by the look of pride she saw in his eyes.
‘This is an historic moment,’ she announced, when the final Golden Ones had returned to their seats. ‘We stand together, now and for ever-more. A formidable partnership. Go back to your courts and celebrate what has been achieved this day. In the meantime, battle plans are being drawn up and we will shortly call your leaders together to discuss tactics.’
As the Tuatha Dé Danaan began to drift away, Mallory came over. Caitlin could tell he wanted to hug her, but he restrained himself and clapped one tentative hand on her arm instead. ‘Now for the hard part,’ he said.
‘Let’s celebrate our little achievements, shall we?’
Before he could respond, a low-pitched hum rose up, growing louder until they were forced to cover their ears.
‘That’s the same sound that came when Jerzy fell sick,’ Mallory shouted.
All around, the Tuatha Dé Danaan were reeling. Some fell back into their seats while others clutched at the walls for support, rubbing their temples as if afflicted with acute headaches. There was a dimming of the faint golden glow that exuded from their skin so that they looked unaccountably sickly.
‘What’s wrong with them?’ Caitlin said.
The sound appeared to emanate from every part of the vast chamber. As Caitlin prepared to scramble out of the room, she caught sight of Hunter pointing towards the upper tiers. Following his finger, she saw rapid movement across the highest row of Tuatha Dé Danaan, spreading to each row in turn.
‘The Caraprix!’ Mallory exclaimed.
The shape-shifting creatures that held a symbiotic relationship with the gods were separating from their hosts, where they had been disguised as clasps and amulets, buckles, jewellery and daggers. Silvery flashes caught the sunlight as they fluidly transformed into mercury eggs that slithered across golden bodies, down walls, onto the floor and away.
Beside Mallory, Rhiannon cried gently, one arm across her stomach as if gripped by a physical pain of loss, the cauterised wound of her missing hand reaching out with invisible fingers for the disappearing Caraprix.
‘They are deserting us,’ she whispered, ‘our friends, our souls. They have been with us from the very beginning and now they are going.’
‘Is this the first sign that the end is near?’ Lugh cried. ‘We are abandoned, here, when we need them most.’
The Tuatha Dé Danaan collapsed into their seats at the devastating emotional loss of separation, but they also appeared to be physically weakened.
‘Our luck is gone!’ Lugh continued. ‘Our power!’
Mallory grabbed Caitlin’s arm and with Hunter they escaped from the chamber and the teeth-jarring drone.
‘Several questions spring to mind,’ Hunter said as they moved along the corridor. ‘Why now? Where are the Caraprix going? What power do they have? Are they a threat to us?’
‘My instinct is to plan for the worst,’ Mallory replied. ‘We know they’ve been used to control people before.’
‘But we’ve never seen a sign that they’ve got any real kind of consciousness, ’ Caitlin said. ‘They’ve always been pretty benign, changing shape and doing what they’re told by the Golden Ones.’
‘The Tuatha Dé Danaan aren’t telling them to scurry away,’ Hunter observed. ‘So who is?’
‘I think I might be able to answer that.’ Mallory sprinted ahead.
It appeared he was right, for soon they intersected with a stream of Caraprix heading in one direction. Covering their ears, they joined the silvery flow until they arrived at Doctor Jay’s chambers where the Caraprix massed around the door, seeking out every gap around the jamb to ooze inside.
‘Jerzy has a Caraprix inside his head,’ Mallory said. ‘The Court of the Final Word put it there so they could control him.’
‘And these others are trying to get to it?’ Caitlin asked.
‘The droning came from Jerzy first,’ Mallory replied. ‘I think the Caraprix in his head was calling to the others.’
‘Why?’ Caitlin said.
‘Maybe they just want a big old shape-changing party.’ Hunter threw open the door. They had one brief glimpse of Jerzy standing in the centre of the chamber with the Caraprix forming a growing silver pool around him, and then the door slammed shut of its own accord. However much they tried, they could not get it open again.
3
Beyond the walls, the Great Plain stretched to the purple mountains on the horizon where the dark smudge of the Enemy gathered. Faint tremors already ran through the ground. The approaching threat was starkly contrasted with the peace of their surroundings, where only the gentle breeze stirred the long grass, accompanied by the sound of crickets.
‘All right,’ Ruth said. ‘You got me. Where are they?’
Veitch continued to scan the grasslands before announcing, ‘Got to be some kind of magic. Hidden in plain sight kind of thing.’
‘Glamour,’ Church replied. ‘The Enemy won’t see them till we want them to be seen. They won’t be able to judge the scale of our forces, or make preparations for our secret weapons.’
He led them forwards a few paces until they felt the sensation of passing through a heavy curtain. With a pop, they emerged into the same scenery now filled with more than a hundred Brothers and Sisters of Dragons standing in ranks. Decebalus’s barking voice emerged from their midst.
‘Blimey,’ Veitch said. ‘He’s got some lungs on him. Mallory made a good choice for sergeant major.’
‘We are all going to die!’ Decebalus bellowed as he marched through the Army of Dragons. ‘Enjoy your last moments, and take five of the enemy with you when you pass!’
Behind the Brothers and Sisters, a flag bearing a blue dragon on a white background fluttered above their small, hastily assembled camp.
‘You may think you are few in number, but you are worth more than ten, more than twenty, more than a hundred of the Enemy!’ Decebalus roared. ‘The Pendragon Spirit glows within our hearts, joining us together as one. One mind, one body. We care for each other, we protect each other and we strike as one weapon!’
Filled with pride, Church watched the brave, determined faces as Decebalus split the army up into groups of five to prepare for the tasks he had assigned them.
‘Do you think they’re up to it?’ Ruth asked. ‘We learned on the job, and they’ve not been through a fraction of the things we’ve experienced.’
‘Look at them - they’re great,’ Church replied.
Decebalus summoned the three of them over to a group of five strapping themselves into silver and blue armour. ‘Greet our brave,’ Decebalus said. ‘They have volunteered to scout the Enemy lines. A dangerous task.’
Church felt uncomfortable when the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons looked at him with clear awe. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.
‘Sound off!’ Decebalus shouted when the group simply gaped.
‘Leon Corbett,’ the first said, with a strong Midlands accent. He towered over the others and had long, wavy hair and a tribal tattoo around his upper right arm.
‘Kelly Broadbent,’ ventured the woman next to him. She had auburn hair and something of Ruth abo
ut her, Church thought.
‘Adam Garrett.’ This one had spiky brown hair and dark-brown eyes. Hunter or Veitch, Church thought. He was still astonished how Existence played out the same archetypes through each team.
The fourth introduced herself with the lyrical name of Aurelia Verdin. She was in her early twenties. ‘I’m the horse expert,’ she said confidently. ‘The others won’t be able to keep up.’
‘And I’m Richard Flynn.’ Church saw he was definitely the Shavi of the group, a gentle Glaswegian barely out of his teens, with green-grey eyes and a touch of the mystical about him.
‘I’m proud of you all,’ Church said, shaking each of their hands in turn. ‘It’s a dangerous mission, but the information you bring back will help us win.’
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