‘Despite all evidence to the contrary,’ Laura muttered as she passed, tugging with irritation at the furs.
On the fringes of the group, a tearful Mahalia quietly but intensely confronted Jack, but he remained resolute, if sad. Church was impressed by how the teenager had risen to the responsibility of being one of the Two Keys, as had Miller, who shuffled awkwardly nearby, trying to ignore the outpouring of emotion. Crowther watched the two with fatherly concern, but did not interfere.
‘I can understand how Mahalia feels,’ Ruth said. ‘It’s awful to feel so powerless when someone you love goes into danger.’
‘I bet you’ve never felt powerless in your life,’ Church said.
‘That shows how much you know.’
For the last ten minutes, Tom had been sitting on the low stone wall surrounding the pool, smoking and talking intently to Shavi. As it had been for several hours, most of the conversation was about the Caraprix and the meaning of their sudden evacuation from the Tuatha Dé Danaan to Doctor Jay’s lab where Jerzy still lay. Since then, no one had been able to gain access to the room to find the reason for the light blazing under the door and the constant jarring noise.
Shavi saw Church looking and came over. ‘I have a question,’ he said to Rhiannon and Lugh. ‘We are searching for the Halls of the Drakusa. Who are the Drakusa? Tom has spent a lifetime amassing knowledge of the Far Lands and he has never heard tell of them.’
‘The Golden Ones do not talk of them,’ Rhiannon said. ‘We rarely acknowledge they existed, even amongst ourselves.’
‘The Golden Ones have survived and found strength in self-delusion,’ Lugh began cautiously. ‘That we are the first and that we are the last. That we are at the heart of Existence. That we are the strongest.’
‘We are not,’ Rhiannon said. ‘And we might have climbed higher on the ladder of Existence if we had found the wisdom to recognise the truth earlier.’
‘The Drakusa came before you?’ Church asked.
‘They, and others,’ Lugh replied.
‘What happened to them?’ Shavi queried.
‘No one knows. The footprints of those lost civilisations can still be found across the Far Lands, if one looks carefully,’ Rhiannon admitted. ‘In ruins, so overgrown they have almost become part of the landscape, in artefacts, in rumours and prophecies and stories where their existence is clear in what is not said, rather than what is.’
Veitch and Hunter arrived with Virginia Dare, who was wrapped in a cloak so thick there was only a hint of the pale moon of her face. Her head was bowed, her arms wrapped around her, locked so deeply within herself she appeared oblivious to her surroundings.
‘I’m not sure she’s up to this,’ Ruth whispered.
‘We don’t have a choice,’ Church said. ‘She’s been traumatised. Her mind keeps shutting down to protect her from what she’s been through and that’s going to make her a burden for us when we hit danger.’ He paused. ‘And I know how cruel it is to take her back there. If I could think of any other way to do this, I would.’
Within a quarter of an hour, they were ready to make the journey to Winter-side. Shavi cast his eyes over the group. ‘Ten of us,’ he said. ‘Six Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, Tom, Miller, Jack and Virginia. Nine would have been better.’
‘Great. Nine potential sources of irritation,’ Laura said. ‘It was bad enough when there were only five of us.’
A moment after Lugh and Rhiannon said their goodbyes, Church passed through the arch and found himself in the same square, only now foot-deep in snow. An unearthly stillness lay over the normally bustling city.
Once the others had joined him, they made their way along the winding cobbled streets, through the eerily deserted city, noting how the street-plan and the buildings echoed their counterparts on Summer-side, but were subtly different. A sense of menace pervaded the court, engrained in the distorted proportions of the architecture, or the odd way shadows fell, or the occasional sound that echoed through the stillness: a dog’s howl, snow suddenly falling from a roof, something that sounded like a baby crying, but was clearly not.
The high buildings protected them from most of the elements, but when they ventured beyond the gates onto the Great Plain, they were blasted by a bitter gale that propelled snowflakes into their flesh like burning needles. Bowing their heads, they drove on through the knee-high snow, Tom guiding them with every subtle tug on his ring-finger.
When the pink glow of dawn finally warmed the horizon, their faces, fingers and toes were numb and snow encrusted the front of their furs. Laura complained vehemently and Tom, Miller and Jack found it hard going, but the others maintained the pace. Of all of them, Hunter appeared to be thriving on the hardship.
It took most of the day to cross the arc of the Plain that took them to the foothills. They made camp on the gentle slopes, in a hollow filled with spiky gorse bushes and rocky outcroppings. Hunter lit a fire with remarkable speed, and soon they had four tents pitched around it, with water boiling for a warm drink. They ate their dry biscuits in two of the tents, clustered together for warmth, and soon fell asleep from exhaustion.
Church woke in the middle of the night, unsettled without knowing why. Crawling out into the bitter darkness, he found that the snow had stopped falling and the stars glimmered icily. It was Veitch’s watch, but something was wrong. Church could see him prowling the edge of the camp beyond the red embers of the fire, his sword drawn, occasional flickers of blue amongst darting black flames.
‘What’s up?’ Church followed Veitch’s gaze to the snow-covered lip of the hollow.
‘Something out there.’
‘An animal? Or worse?’
‘Dunno yet. I caught sight of it against the skyline, just a flash. It was big. Don’t know if it was looking down here, or just prowling around. You’ll be able to smell the smoke from the fire for miles.’
‘Maybe the campfire wasn’t the smartest move.’
‘Nah, we needed to stay warm. Besides, we’ve not seen any sign of life since we got here. As far as we knew, this was a dead place.’
‘I see you didn’t wander up there to investigate.’
Veitch laughed quietly. ‘Right, ’cause I’m a total no-mark, stumbling into the night to investigate a noise. My big slasher-pic moment.’
‘There’s two of us now.’
‘Still not a good idea. There’s no cover. Best I just sit down here and keep an eye.’
‘I’ll keep you company.’
‘You don’t need to.’
‘Four eyes are better than two. And it gets lonely on your own.’
Veitch eyed Church curiously for a moment and then nodded. They sat on the leather provision bags while Veitch stoked the fire until the flames licked up again. As they warmed, conversation came easily and after a while Church realised how much it was like the early days of their friendship. He could see that Veitch felt it too, but neither of them spoke of it.
When dawn broke, they roused the others, who emerged stamping their feet and complaining to fight for space around the fire. They ate a quick breakfast of more dry biscuits, and then Veitch and Church ventured up to the ridge. The snow was disturbed and large tracks led off across the landscape.
‘What do you reckon?’ Veitch said.
‘I don’t get it,’ Church replied. ‘The tracks change. See here - these look like some kind of animal print, these are more like a reptile and these . . .’ He paused at a series of circular holes in the snow disappearing into the distance, unable to find the words. ‘Whatever, it looks like it was watching us.’
Veitch peered towards the horizon. ‘It’s not here now. Maybe it thought we were too much trouble for a snack.’
‘Those black clouds look full of snow,’ Church noted. ‘We’d better get moving before it hits. We’re going to freeze to death out here if it gets any colder.’
Church slid down the bank to the camp. Veitch inspected the tracks for a moment longer, casting his gaze across the expa
nse of snow, and then he followed Church, troubled without knowing why.
2
At noon, the storm struck with a ferocious force that battered them this way and that, making any progress difficult. The blizzard was so intense that the ground and sky merged into one sheet of white that left their senses reeling. Laura was worst hit by the white-out-induced vertigo and she pitched forwards into the deepening drifts at regular intervals, cursing loudly as her frustration and anger grew.
Each time Hunter helped her to her feet, only for her to shake him off furiously. ‘I’m a hothouse plant,’ she shouted. ‘I’m not meant for these conditions.’
‘Yeah, you’re just a frail little flower,’ he said lightly, but he was worried about her. The strange state imposed upon her by Cernunnos was still a mystery and he had no idea how the cold would affect her, although he was concerned by the blue tinge growing around her mouth and eyes.
He struggled over to Church and said, ‘I’m worried about Laura. She’s not coping well with this weather. We need to get to shelter.’
Church pulled the scarf from his mouth and shouted over the gale, ‘Okay, if we can find somewhere, but it’s impossible to see anything in this. At least we’re moving uphill. There might be more shelter when we get into the mountains.’
‘If we do,’ Hunter yelled back. Frustrated, he turned towards Laura and noticed that he could now see only seven other black smudges in the swirling white. ‘Someone’s missing,’ he called to Church. ‘Get everyone huddled together, now!’
Once the group had packed into a tight knot, they realised it was Jack who was missing. ‘He was right next to me a minute ago,’ Miller said as he hugged Virginia close to him.
‘If he wanders off, we’ll never find him,’ Tom snapped. ‘Why can’t you organise things better?’ He wiped the snow off his spectacles.
‘If we all start looking for him, we’ll never find our way back together,’ Hunter said. ‘Let me go. I’ve experienced worse than this in Nepal.’
‘How are you going to find your way back to us?’ Church asked. ‘The footprints are filling up quickly.’
‘I’m like an animal - I have an unerring sense of direction.’
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Laura said, but before she could stop him, he disappeared into the blizzard.
Rapidly, he followed their footprints back and then searched for Jack’s outlying track. Church was right - their trail was already becoming a ghost, and he guessed he would only have a few minutes before he lost his way back to the group.
He called Jack’s name, but the wind stole his voice only a few feet from his mouth. After a moment, he came across a set of tracks that peeled off from the main body of the others. Keeping his head low, he pressed on into the face of the gale.
He hadn’t gone far when his senses picked up movement nearby.
‘Jack,’ he called again. Even as the name left his mouth, he realised any movement he might have perceived came from something much larger than a teenage boy.
Another shape loomed and was gone in the blink of an eye. This time he glimpsed something black, dense and powerful before the white folded around it.
A second shape, this time to his left, though blurred as if in a state of flux. Another, and another. They were all around, but they didn’t appear to be circling him. Perhaps they were as snow-blind as he was.
How many? he thought.
Stock-still, he listened and watched for any sign of movement. But then his attention fell on Jack’s rapidly blurring footprints, and he realised he would lose the trail if he waited too long. Without a second thought, he drove on, fast and low.
He’d barely gone twenty feet when the ground shook with a thunderous approach behind him. Without looking back, he threw himself to one side, burying himself deep in a drift. He had the impression of something almost eight feet tall crashing by, a glimpse of gleaming, oily black skin, and then it was gone.
Hunter moved quickly back onto the trail. More of the beasts converged upon the location, the ground shaking from their movement, their shapes passing through the intense whirl of white like massive ships in a sea fog.
One of them came out of the blizzard directly at him. A sword-like limb with a serrated edge slashed, but he ducked just beneath it and kept running. It turned rapidly and pursued - too late, for the snow had already swallowed him.
The footprints he was following were more defined: he was closing on Jack. If, by some slight chance, he was still alive. The rising ground crested a ridge and descended into a hollow filled with boulders. Scree shifted under the snow beneath his boots. The rocks allowed him some cover as he ducked and raced amongst them. Occasionally, the black creatures loomed over him, sparks flying as their limbs scraped against the stone. Each time he glimpsed one, his perception changed: he thought they were giant insects, then lizards, then something resembling a crab crossed with a piece of machinery.
And then the footprints ahead disappeared.
He ranged around, hearing the beasts crash closer amidst low, rumbling noises that he guessed was some form of communication. He had convinced himself that Jack had already been killed when he heard the boy’s quiet voice: ‘Hunter.’
Ducking down, Hunter found Jack pressed into a crevice in the rock wall, beneath an overhanging boulder. The boy’s face was as white as the snow, his eyes ranging with a deep-seated fear. Hunter quickly pressed himself into the crevice, shielding Jack’s shaking body from the roaming creatures.
‘Nice spot - room with a view,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t worry. We’re going to be all right.’
‘What are they?’ Jack said.
‘Whatever they are, they’re not the smartest or they’d have methodically tracked us down by now.’
One of the beasts tore past their hiding pace. Jack flinched, then calmed himself. ‘I’m all right.’
‘I know you are.’ Delving into his pack, Hunter found the silver-scaled, brass-taloned Balor Claw.
‘What’s that?’ Jack hissed.
‘A weapon.’
‘You can’t use it here! There are too many of them. You won’t last a minute.’
Hunter couldn’t tell Jack he had it ready for a last stand, to take one or two of the creatures with them. ‘I’m just keeping it where I can see it,’ he said with a grin.
‘I can’t feel my feet,’ Jack said.
‘Just a little while longer. They’ll move away soon when they realise they can’t find us.’ Hunter tried to sound reassuring, but he knew if they stayed in the crevice much longer they’d freeze to death; and they wouldn’t stand a chance if they ventured out amongst the hunting creatures. Beyond that, the tracks back to the rest of the group would probably have been lost.
Jack’s lips were already turning blue, and the familiar signs of hypothermia were evident in his skin and breathing. Hunter pulled the boy close to him and wrapped his arms around him. ‘Forget the whole “men don’t hug” thing,’ he said. ‘This is about staying warm. We’ll be fine. We’ll be out of here in no time.’
3
The Court of the Soaring Spirit felt empty without Mallory, Caitlin and the others. Decebalus stood outside Doctor Jay’s lab for long minutes, mulling over his new role as leader of the Army of Dragons, happy to accept the responsibility, although missing the camaraderie of his friends. He barely spared a thought for the gently pulsing light and the noise grinding out from the sealed room. The Caraprix were not a threat, he had decided, and so they were an irrelevance.
Weighing his strategy carefully, he sought out the sorcerer Math in his shadowy rooms.
‘I have never met a sorcerer who has not deserved to be hacked into bloody chunks,’ the barbarian said as he watched the slowly turning mask. ‘You will be happy to know that in this matter I have learned some restraint from my good friends. But only some. So hear me out.’
The mask turned. Math said nothing.
‘The Enemy approaches. My forces are strong, but a good general always keeps something
in reserve. I need . . . something. Possibly magickal. And I want it to be a response that will take their breath away to such a degree they will never return.’
Math contemplated for a moment, and then said, ‘How far do you intend to go?’
Decebalus grinned.
4
‘Should we go after Hunter?’ Ruth ventured.
‘There’s no point doing anything until this blizzard lifts,’ Church replied. ‘We could be stamping around in circles and getting nowhere.’
Destroyer of Worlds Page 12