Church dropped down and put his arm around her shoulders. She rested her head against him, oddly frail for such a powerful being. "I'm sorry for your people," he said. "Did the Fomorii hurt you?"
"There were no Night Walkers."
"Then what happened?"
She raised her head to look at him deeply, her face haunted, her eyes damned. "I happened."
As her meaning gradually dawned on him, he looked around at the brutally slain bodies uneasily.
"Do not think badly of me, Jack." Every part of her was shaking. "I have committed a crime that will ensure my name is despised by my people for all time. I never thought I had it within me to commit such a monstrous act. But I did, Jack, I did."
Church tried to console her, but she would have none of it.
"I did it for you, Jack. For all Fragile Creatures. I did it for all existence. And I have lost myself in the process."
Church looked round until he saw the chest a little way away. "The Wish-Hex?"
"I attempted to prevent them unleashing it. They ignored my pleas. And so I ... I ..." Her face fell into her hands; her sobs were silent and racking.
"I know it's a terrible burden," Church said gently, "but you did do the right-"
"You do not understand, Jack. I failed. The Wish-Hex has been set in motion."
He stared at the chest, suddenly cold despite the heat. "In motion?"
"There is no stopping it now. Soon, very soon, it will begin."
Church fought back a wave of despair. The odds had always been incalculable, but now it truly was hopeless. He began to ask her how long it would take for the energy to drive the plague across the world, then caught himself; it didn't really matter. The Tuatha De Danann would get what they wanted: a universe free of competition.
He helped her to her feet. "Don't worry. You did your best." He looked across at the others, wondering whether to tell them that whatever they now did was futile.
Niamh took his hand. "There will be an ending, Jack, but it might not be how you imagine," she said as if she could read his mind.
"But what can we possibly-"
He was interrupted by the sound of violent fighting rising from the stairwell. Ruth rushed over to investigate before calling back excitedly, "It's Shavi, Ryan and Laura." The hope in her face made him feel even worse.
"We need to keep going," he shouted.
The Bone Inspector sniffed the air like an animal. "I think we're nearly there."
"Then they'll do anything they can to try to stop us."
"Time's running out," the Bone Inspector continued. He looked more worried than Church had ever seen him. "Not long left now."
"Will you stop it with the countdown!" Church snapped.
Laura and Shavi emerged at the top of the steps. Veitch was just below, holding back the Fomorii. "There's bleedin' millions of them now!" he yelled. "They're not bothering with the ship any more. They just want us!"
Ruth came running up to him. "The next flight of steps are just over there."
"Okay, shout down to Ryan. When he reaches the top of his steps, he'll just have to run for it." He turned back to Niamh, who had lifted the chest easily. "What's the point in taking that along with us? We might as well leave it here now."
"I am afraid of it falling into the hands of the Night Walkers. They created this Wish-Hex. They may know some way to ensure it destroys only Fragile Creatures."
"I appreciate what you've done, Niamh, more than you can know." Her sad smile told him how much his words meant to her.
He called Ruth over to help Niamh with the chest while he reclaimed the Wayfinder and the head; its blue glow was coming out in waves, accompanied by a dim but insistent hum. The features continued to move; Church had the unnerving feeling the head had been listening to them.
At the foot of the steps, he waited, urging the others up ahead of him. Eventually Veitch came sprinting past.
"You all right, boss?" he said with a grin.
"Fine and dandy." As he leapt on to the steps at the rear, Church threw one backwards glance and was instantly chilled. Flooding the vast room was what appeared to be a river of shadows. He knew it was the Fomorii, but it was like one entity, of one mind. It moved and spread with such speed he guessed there must be hundreds, if not thousands, of the Night Walkers pouring in.
Then the awful sight was wiped out in an instant by a blinding revelation. "What's that foul smell?" he called out.
Ruth's voice floated back. "It's the Fomorii. Nuada told me that when the Caraprix is in control it stimulates that stink."
Church felt sick and shaky as numerous troubling thoughts slotted into place. It was the same smell he recalled from the Walpurgis-induced vision of the night Marianne was murdered; and he had smelled it, too, when Tom had been driven to betray them in the Lake District. His pounding heart threatened to burst.
The traitor amongst them was being controlled by a Caraprix. That was why he couldn't imagine one of his closest friends selling them down the river; any acts of betrayal would be against type, and therefore unexpected. The Fomorii must have implanted the parasite months ago. Their scheming was unparalleled: back-up plan after back-up plan, and now this, the final defence to prevent their defeat.
He glanced up at Veitch taking the steps two at a time, thought of Ruth and Shavi and Laura. Which of them was it? It could be any one of them. And when would they be forced to make their move? He would have to watch all of them now, at a time when all his attentions should be focused on the threat without.
With a heavy heart, he pressed on, holding the head out behind him to deter the advancing Fomorii.
Gradually the circumference of the tower narrowed as they neared the top. When they finally thought they could climb no more it opened out into another large room that took up half the floor space. There were no windows to provide light, but they could just make out building debris scattered all around.
"I can't stand here holding the rest back forever," Church said impatiently. More explosions brought a shower of debris from the ceiling. As he jumped to one side to avoid it, he was struck with an idea. Directing Witch and Shavi to collect rubble, girders and beams, and anything else they could lay their hands on, they flung it down the stairwell. It didn't take them long to jam it.
"So we won't be going down in a hurry," Laura said dismally.
"It won't take them long to get through that," the Bone Inspector said.
Veitch glared at him before venturing to the edge of the barrier. "Can't hear anything on the other side. I reckon they've fallen back."
"Now why would they do that?" Ruth laid down her edge of the chest and Niamh followed suit.
"They probably think we're a lost cause." Church almost had to shout over the echoing beat of Balor's heart.
A large stone wall bisected the floor, with an oaken door placed in the middle; it had looked unusual from the instant Church emerged from the stairwell, but up close he could see it was seeping a viscous, black liquid. The gunk oozed down into a gully and then ran through the wall and down the side of the building, adding to the tower's skin.
Church moved his ear towards the wall to see if he could hear any sound from the other side. As he neared the stone his stomach turned; radiating through it was a sensation of unbearable evil that spoke to his most primal fears.
He staggered away quickly. "In there." If it was that strong without, he thought, what would it be like when they entered?
The others must have noticed his expression when he was against the wall, for Laura said, "Are we up to this?"
"There aren't any other candidates. We'd better get the Quadrillax together."
They each gave up the artefact they had protected until the Sword, the Spear, the Cauldron and the Stone stood in front of the door. As the pieces came in proximity, a faint metallic singing rang up, melodic and strangely soothing in that awful place. Church realised that the Way-finder and the head would be needed too. All were linked, and while they appeared a
s objects they all recog nised, Church knew that they were not seeing their true forms at all; what they really were, he guessed they would probably never know.
During the frantic activity the futility had been put to one side, but in the lull it returned in force. He didn't know why they were there. They might as well have vacated the tower and enjoyed their final hour together, as much as they could. "How much longer with the Wish-Hex?" he asked. When there was no reply, he looked round and could tell from Niamh's face that it was almost upon them. Yet oddly he didn't see any fear there, just a deep, painful sadness; she forced a smile, and somehow that made it worse. "Then we had better get moving."
He walked up to the door. Ruth, Shavi, Laura and Veitch followed without any prompting, although the fear was obvious on all their faces. He was suddenly aware of a deeply moving feeling of gratitude that he had been allowed to spend time with them; they were the best.
A faint glow began to leak out of the Wish-Hex chest; the air pressure dropped a notch. It's beginning, he thought. He stooped down to pick up the Sword and something crashed against the side of his head, plunging him into unconsciousness.
The first Ruth realised was when Laura yelled and leapt back. Church was sprawled on the floor with blood seeping from a wound on the side of his head. Standing over him was Callow, his eyes baleful and filled with hatred. He was clutching a lump of rock, one end jagged and as sharp as a knife.
With a strength that belied his size, he grabbed hold of Church's jacket and began to drag him away into the shadows. Veitch dived forward, his ceremonial sword at the ready, but Callow moved as fast as a snake, yanking up Church's head and jabbing the rock against his throat.
"Anatomy lesson, little boy: the carotid artery," he said. "One slight cut and there's not a thing you can do. His beautiful heroic blood will wash across this dirty floor and it will all be over."
"You're bleedin' crazy!" Veitch raged. His temple pulsed; his expression suggested he would hack Callow to pieces at the bat of an eyelid. Callow merely smiled, which infuriated Veitch all the more.
"Please," Shavi said. "There is no-"
"There is every need. If you win, I will be lost."
"If we lose, you'll be lost, you wanker!" Veitch advanced another step.
Callow dug the rock into the pulsing artery. "Can't you understand? Humanity is weak. If we don't ally ourselves with greater powers, we are nothing. Do you think the working classes ever got anywhere on their own? This isn't a world for the powerless."
"Excuse me. Pathetic loser alarm." It was the first time Laura had seen him since he had clambered over the van seat to slash her face with a razor. Even the torments inflicted on his body didn't assuage the hatred she felt for what he had put her through.
"What lies on the other side of that wall is the greatest thing this puny little world has ever seen," Callow continued. "He will take me and give me the position I truly deserve: as a leader of men, not someone crushed by the yoke of an uncaring society. You're not going to take that away from me. This is my time that's coming. Your time is gone."
Ruth held up her hand and waggled her fingers at him so he could see where one was missing. "I was nice to you the first time we met in Salisbury. I thought you were down on your luck and maybe you just needed a helping hand. You showed me the truth when you did this. Everything I've seen over the last few months has shown me how much greatness there is in humanity. But you, you're the flip side. You're everything that drags humanity back: selfishness, and greed, and a belief that any act, however vile, is justified by your own needs."
"You seem to forget I'm the one holding your boyfriend's life in his hands."
"Yes, you are. And that's your big mistake. In Cornwall, and on the ship, I was ready to get my pound of flesh from you, Callow. And the only thing that stopped me was Church, because he's decent, and he believes in second chances and forgiveness. I don't."
Laura stepped to her side. "Who'da thought it? Me and Frosty with something in common."
"So who's going to speak up for you now, Callow?" Lightning flashed in Ruth's eyes. "Who's going to stop me?"
A shiver ran through Callow. His unblinking gaze left Ruth's face only to take in the flinty defiance in Laura's features.
A wind blew up from nowhere, rushing through the room violently. The force of it buffeted Callow a few paces backwards. "I'll kill him!" he screamed.
Ruth made a sweeping gesture with her right hand and Callow flew several feet across the floor as if he had been struck heavily. The rock went spinning away into the shadows. He jumped to his feet, looking frantically from side to side like a cornered animal. Laura squatted down, one hand on the floor. Before Callow could flee, vegetation burst up from minute seed particles buried amongst the stone flags and lashed itself around his legs, pinning him tight. He wrenched at them, screaming and cursing insanely.
Ruth was filled with an otherworldly fury, though on the surface she appeared completely calm. "Revenge does nobody any good," she said. "But sometimes you have to punish yourself."
Veitch took a step away from her, shocked by what he saw. As the tempest screamed around the room, she appeared-although he didn't know if it was an illusion-to rise a few inches above the floor.
Church came round with his head ringing and blood seeping down to his neck. When he saw Ruth, the pain was instantly replaced with a panic that slowly changed to despair. That unrecognisable cast to her face told him everything he needed to know, the one terrible fact that destroyed his life in an instant. With the route his life had taken since the gods had started to manipulate it, he could almost have forecast the traitor would be the one person who meant more to him than the world. There had been signs before, he knew, but like a child he had avoided the harsh reality of investigating them too closely. He had pretended, and in truth had known he was pretending.
The one thought that saved him was that he wouldn't have to deal with it. The light leaking from the crate was now intense; the faint hum had become an insistent throb.
Laura's head was bowed in concentration. The vegetation had bound Callow like a mummy to his neck. When she looked up, she was in two minds about whether to continue, though her anger was still clear on her face.
She looked up at Ruth for guidance and saw her friend was not going to back down. Ruth was changed; the terrifying elemental forces crackling around her appeared infinite, reaching deep into the heart of creation. Though she looked exactly the same, the others were convinced it was no longer Ruth, but what had replaced her, they were not sure.
In that instant, Laura knew it was the moment of which Cernunnos had warned. If Ruth gave in to her hatred and killed Callow she would be lost; the immense power she had been gifted would be corrupted and would consume her.
Laura had only a second to act. She threw herself at Ruth, knocking her down hard. The lightning Ruth had been calling up erupted from the ceiling and missed Callow by a hairsbreadth.
And then Ruth turned her attention on Laura. Her face was unrecognisable, her eye black and empty like space. "Mine," she hissed.
Terror washed through Laura. Ruth began to focus the power towards her.
Laura had only a slim chance to defend herself. Instead, she rolled round towards Callow and concentrated until green vegetation rippled from her fingers across the floor, lashing up Callow's body. As he ranted and raged, it twirled briefly around his neck and then jerked. The head came free and bounced away into the shadows.
Laura waited for the blow to strike her. When nothing came, she looked back to see Ruth slumped in a daze, her eyes no longer black. "Thank you," she said weakly.
Church could feel Ruth's eyes on him as he rose, desperate for comfort after her experience, but he couldn't meet her gaze. And then it was too late. The room was quickly filled with twisting flashes of yellow light. The throb became a constant drone.
They all stared at the chest blankly: they had overcome so much, over so many months, and had still failed at the last. The
light washed over them, almost soothing in its way.
Before they could say their goodbyes, Niamh flicked open the chest and removed the Wish-Hex. It was so bright it hurt their eyes and they were forced to turn away.
Church was closest and only he heard Niamh say, "This is the way it must be." It was a simple statement, but it brought a shiver to his spine. She pressed the Wish-Hex to her stomach until the light began to dim. He was shocked to see that somehow it was disappearing inside her. The sight was too strange to comprehend, but he knew exactly what she was doing; she had told him, in her own way.
When the Wish-Hex was finally gone, for the briefest instant she stood exactly as he remembered her from that first, misty appearance in his childhood bedroom. Her face open and honest and filled with unconditional love.
The droning noise ended. For a second her body shimmered and distorted, as if he were watching her on an out-of-tune TV, and then she was replaced by a massive cloud of golden moths that soared up into the shadows of the ceiling, twinkling like stars before slowly fading out.
Like Tom, she had known the moment of her death, Church was sure of it. That was part of her desperation that their love affair bloom. Somehow he knew she believed that if it happened, the course of events would be changed; that she would have a happy life.
He recalled the moment he told her they would never be together. How would that have felt? Not just rejection by the one she truly loved, but the announcement of her death sentence. And she had not complained, or attempted to change his mind.
And even after all the heartache he'd dealt her, she had still sacrificed herself so alien, weak, violent, spiteful, greedy, deceitful Fragile Creatures could move along the road towards their destiny.
Her act was humbling, but she had shown him an important lesson: that no race should be judged by the worst elements. That however bad humanity was at times, it could always be redeemed by the best.
Always Forever Page 59