Church had time to turn. His eyes fell on them one after the other: first Veitch for whom he grieved as if he had lost a brother, and then Shavi, and Laura, as close to his heart as he could imagine. And then Ruth, who was his heart.
He was dying, even if the gate didn't have him in its pull. His regrets at doubting Ruth were driven away the moment he looked into her face. All he wanted to remember was the love he saw there, mingled with the terrible pain.
"I'll love you." Ruth was shouting, her voice torn apart by an unbearable grief. "Always, Church. Always."
She loved him, she loved him, she loved him, and it wasn't fair.
She saw his face one final time, just as she remembered that first night under the bridge, filled with decency and honesty and all the best things she had ever wanted in her life. Slowly the haze that swirled at the gate's entrance folded around him. One word drifted back to her: ". . . forever ..."
And then he was gone.
chapter twenty-one
samhain
ver London, the Fabulous Beasts swooped on heated currents rising from the raging flames that had eradicated any taint of the Fomorii. In their grace and serpentine power, in their glittering like jewels in the setting sun, they were inspirational. Hope and wonder soared with them, and on their backs rode a new age, free of the hated old ways and the tyranny of mundanity. Again, as it once had been, it was a world where anything could happen.
Of the Fomorii there was no sign. Whether they had followed their god into oblivion, or simply retreated, broken-backed, to T'ir n'a n'Og, no one knew, but no trace remained of them in the world. All the places they had made their own burned in the flames of the Fabulous Beasts: the financial district, the Palace of Westminster, Buckingham Palace; and of the black tower that had been the source of their power, nothing at all remained, not even rubble.
Ruth, Shavi, Laura and the Bone Inspector had escaped, carrying the body of Witch, before the ultimate destructive force of the Fabulous Beasts had been unleashed on the tower; indeed, it had almost been as if the serpents had waited for them to vacate before attacking.
They made their way north through the city, skirting the areas of greatest destruction. For the main the journey passed in a blur; they were in shock, too distraught by the blows that had been inflicted on them to comprehend the scale of their victory. It was a triumph they had never imagined in their wildest dreams, but it didn't feel like one. Occasionally the Tuatha De Danann could be glimpsed like flitting golden ghosts, moving out across the land. Survivors, but not victors; that title belonged to humanity, thanks to the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, and the sacrifice of people who cared.
The Bone Inspector slipped away respectfully while they buried Veitch by torchlight on the heights of Hampstead Heath overlooking the city. None of them really knew what to say; the loss was too acute, the atmosphere of broken dreams too oppressive. As they started to throw the clods of earth back into the hole, Shavi finally broke down.
"Goodbye, my good friend," he said, the tears streaming down his face. "You brought something to all of us. And you did your best, often despite yourself, and that is more than enough. I will miss you more than you ever could have believed."
And then they were all crying, not just for Veitch, but for all the ones they had lost, and for themselves, who would have to deal with the world left behind and the lack of their friends in it; and none of them tried to hide their tears, not even Laura, who surprised herself with the weight of the emotion pouring out of her.
When all their tears were gone, and the mound of brown earth stood complete and alone in the rolling green, they turned to face the uncertain times ahead.
The night felt subtly different. The lamp of the moon cast a beautiful white light from a sable sky now devoid of storm clouds. The sourness in the air that had arrived with Balor's rebirth was gone, replaced by the aroma of green vegetation in an atmosphere slowly ridding itself of pollution; it smelled like hope.
Beneath the stars, Shavi, Ruth and Laura huddled together around a bonfire against the October chill. The Bone Inspector leaned against his staff and watched the city thoughtfully. They sensed the spirits of the Invisible World were beginning to venture abroad, as they always did on that night that had come to be known as Hallowe'en, yet the small group felt no sense of threat.
"How are you doing?" Laura said to Ruth after a long period of silence, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire. Her voice held a real tenderness that made Ruth even more emotional after their long period of rivalry.
"At the moment I feel dead." Distractedly, she prodded the grass with a stick, before releasing a juddering sigh. "And I know it's going to get worse before it gets better. I know we won ... I know the whole world benefited ... but the price we paid seems so high."
Laura tossed more wood on the fire, though it hardly needed it. "You can talk about Church, you know."
"Thanks. Really." Ruth wiped away a stray tear, smiled. "It seems so unfair. Personally, I mean. I'm being selfish here and I know anyone else would tell me to get some perspective-
"That is not how grief works," Shavi interjected.
"It took us so long to get together," Ruth said, "but when we did I felt happy, truly happy, for the first time in my life. Church was always talking about searching for meaning, and for me that was where I found meaning in my life: in my love for him. Does that sound vomit-inducing?"
"Yes, but keep going. I need to make a space for dinner." Laura's gibe was gentle and Ruth couldn't help laughing.
"It would have been perfect for me if we'd stayed together into old age, and I know it's a childish thing, but sometimes you think that's reason enough for it to keep going. But life has its own plan. I think that's when you know you've grown up-when you can accept you have no control over anything. Church told me the Tuatha De Danann believe everything is fluid. I suppose the mind has complete control over everything, and that if you wish hard enough you can change reality. Well, I wished and I wished. And he still hasn't come back to me."
Laura fumbled for her hand and gave it a squeeze. Shavi slipped an arm round her shoulders. Overhead, a shooting star blazed across the heavens, reminding them of other times, when they had been all together.
"All I think now is what would he have wanted me to do," Ruth said. "And the answer's obvious: keep doing the right thing, make the world a better place, ignore what anybody else might tell you. Emotionally, it will be hard for me, for all of us, but that's a good reason for living. Don't you think?"
They all agreed.
"You know, I don't really want to think about this," Laura said, "but, do you reckon he suffered? I mean, he'd been stabbed and all, I know. But that gate he was sucked through-"
"I don't know. But even if he did he would probably say pain is transitory and there are better things to look forward to."
"You believe that?"
"I do. Now. I'll see him again one day, I know it."
Laura remained silent for a long moment, then said, "You know Veitch and me didn't get on. He scared me. But I think the real reason was because we were so alike. Two losers trying to escape the past that held them back. I feel bad that I'm here and he's not."
"Don't feel guilty." Ruth gave her arm a squeeze.
"No, Ryan would not want that." Shavi leaned forward into the firelight. "Ryan did the best he could, but he was a victim, and that is the great tragedy of what happened to him. Under other circumstances, he would have found his redemption, as you did."
"Those bastards took it away from him," Laura said vehemently.
"Exactly. We were all manipulated by higher powers, run ragged and forced to suffer, yet in the end we-humanity-still won. Despite everything inflicted on us. That is our great success."
Ruth watched the sparks flying high in the smoke. "When do you think the Tuatha De Danann first stuck that Caraprix in Veitch's head?"
"I do not know," Shavi replied, "but they were manipulating us from the moment we were born.
They knew they needed the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons together ready to free them if the Fomorii ever got the upper hand. And to achieve our destiny we all had to experience death at first hand, so they utilised Veitch to engineer that state. With the Caraprix driving him, he set off on his murderous spree. I wonder how that must have affected him? His conscious mind did not know, but it was there in his subconscious, eating away at him."
"Why Witch?" Ruth asked. "Why didn't they get you or me to do their dirty work?"
"Because Ryan was perfect for the job. His life already contained violence. He had crossed a barrier that the rest of us would have found hard to deal with."
"So he did exactly what they wanted," Laura said bitterly, "you'd have thought they'd have left him alone after that. But they gave him that silver hand to do Church in at the end."
"That was the faction that didn't want humanity to become a threat," Ruth said. "They were scheming all the time, both the Tuatha De Danann and the Fomorii. Plan after plan, manipulation after manipulation. We were like kids in comparison, so trusting."
"It did not do them any good," Shavi said. "In fact, it was their arrogance that did it for them in the end. The Fomorii never saw us as a real threat. They had implanted their own Caraprix in Ryan's head, but it only came into play right at the end when it actually looked like we might stand a chance. If they had set Ryan to pick us off one by one over a period of time, they would have won. But we were just Fragile Creatures; beneath their notice."
"That'll teach the bastards," Laura said. "It's like the French Revolution all over again."
Ruth stretched, the aches of the past few days finally coming out. " Liberte, fraternite, egalite."
"Look. What's that?" Laura pointed to a light that suddenly flared brightly in the sea of night.
As they scanned the darkness, their breath caught in their throats, others glimmered faintly across the city. It was such a simple thing, but after so long it seemed like an act of God.
Shavi thought for a moment, then said, "An emergency generator has come on."
They were all silent for a long moment, barely daring to believe what it meant. It was Ruth who gave voice to it: "Technology is working again."
"What's left of it." With a fake dismissive shrug, Laura played up to what they expected of her. "No web, no MP3, no ER. What's the point?"
"Technology and magic, side by side," Shavi mused. "Interesting times lie ahead."
They spent the next half hour talking animatedly about what the coming months would hold as humanity crawled out from the wreckage of society and attempted to make a new life out of the devastation. Power lost, industry destroyed, food distribution ruined, transport in tatters, and how many deadthousands? Millions? How long would it take them to get even a modicum of organisation up and running again? In the short term the hardship would be intense, but they all agreed there was hope. After all, mankind was now on a new road, one rising to a glorious future.
Eventually they decided to wander away from the fire for a while, to stretch the chill from their legs and be alone with their thoughts. Ruth found herself drawn to a dark copse; even before she had entered the trees she sensed an old magic in the air: a deep musk and the snorting of an animal that was not an animal. Antlers were silhouetted against the moon.
Cernunnos roamed through the undergrowth, his breath steaming. Beyond him, Ruth could see the woman who had haunted her during those early days after the world had changed: at first glance a wizened old hag, then a middleaged mother, and finally a young woman, filled with vitality and sexuality.
"You called to me," Ruth said. In the branches of the trees above, her owl hooted eerily.
Cernunnos loomed up before her, his power daunting but tempered in that aspect by a subtle gentleness. "You have overcome all challenges, as I knew you would. And now you have reached your blossoming there is no longer any need for my guidance."
"I don't know who I am anymore."
"You are a daughter, not of my flesh, but of my spirit. And a daughter too, of my bright half. You are a guardian of the old ways, a champion of the moon, the sum of all the potential carried in the essence of every woman. Nature will bend before you. The grass will plead for your foot, the air for your lungs."
"Yes, but what does it mean? What am I supposed to do now?" Her voice was strained with emotion from the stresses tearing her apart.
Cernunnos snorted once more and prowled amongst the trees as if he was doing a strange, ritual dance. When he returned to her, he said, "You will be a light in the dark, showing the way between old days and new, between summer and winter, day and night, sun and moon, man and woman. Many trials lie ahead. But you will not walk the path alone."
"Who's going to be with me?"
"Let the seasons turn, and take them as you find them."
Ruth thought about this for a moment; she felt strangely comforted that there was some sort of direction planned for her. It would give her something to immerse herself in so she didn't have to think. "But where do I start? Where do I go from here?"
"Let the seasons turn."
"Something will turn up, I suppose. It always does." She made to go, then turned back. "Thank you. For giving me something to believe in. Something ... more." She couldn't find the words to adequately express the depth of what she had discovered since her change, and so she simply bowed her head and left. She had no doubt she would see him again.
As Ruth walked away, Laura stepped from the shadow of the trees. "She doesn't realise exactly what she can do yet, does she?"
"Do you?" Cernunnos said.
"I have an idea."
"You will watch her? Ensure she overcomes her pain?"
"Yeah, I'll be her shadow," Laura said. "I'll be a friend, and I hope she'll be mine."
"Winter may be approaching, but this is a time for all growing things. The two of you will be needed as the heart of nature begins to beat strongly once more. Through the harsh days before the seeds that have been planted come forth, you will be needed more than ever. Existence has changed in more ways than you can comprehend. There are new rules. Old magic is loose in the land. Nothing will be the way it was." He raised his head to make a strange, throaty call to the moon. "When next you encounter the Golden Ones, they will not be how you recall."
"How will they look?"
Cernunnos ignored her question. "Unchanged for so long, my people have now had change thrust upon them. They, too, must deal with the new rules."
"There's certainly going to be a lot of bad blood amongst them. This whole business has split them in two. Will you all go back to Otherworld?"
"Some. Others will retreat to their Courts to lick their wounds. A few will remain abroad in the Fixed Lands. The success of the Fragile Creatures will have consequences even the Golden Ones cannot foresee. We will no longer see this land as our territory."
"I bet a few of you are going to hate us for what happened. There'll be trouble. And how are we going to cope with all the other crazy stuff that came out of Otherworld? That'll still hang around-the Fabulous Beasts and the Redcaps and the Baobhan Sith and all the rest of the shit."
"The Fragile Creatures are a resilient breed."
"Not so fragile, eh?" She looked up at the owl as it beat a path towards Ruth. "So Ruth and I have got our work cut out. We'll be a good team. I've got the mouth and the looks, and she ..." Laura was surprised at how excited she was about the prospect of what lay ahead, an opportunity to do the kind of good she always dreamed of doing ". . . she'll be the best there is."
"So you're some big-shot shaman?" The Bone Inspector leaned on his staff, examining the theatre of stars. His burned hands miraculously appeared to be healing.
"So they say." Shavi was smiling in the dark at his side. He liked the Bone Inspector; all his curmudgeonly ways and his difficulty with human relationships only added to his appeal.
"I've heard lots of people say that. They couldn't do anything."
"Hmm."
"At
least you haven't got a big head like some of your associates." He fiddled with his staff uncomfortably. "Do you know what you're going to be doing after this night?"
"Not yet. Travelling, I suppose. Seeing how the landscape now lies. Finding out what I can do."
"I could offer you a position."
"Oh?"
"You've heard talk of the Culture?" Shavi said he had. "The Culture were the original wise people. In society from the earliest days, from when man had just a few sticks to hack out a life, I reckon. The Egyptians sailed to these shores for guidance from us about the pyramids. The Celts revered us. We knew all the lore of the land, how animals and birds acted, trees and plants grew. We knew about the stars and the planets. The spirit fire. We knew everything. And then the damn Romans came. Slaughtered some, drove the rest underground where we couldn't do the job that we were meant to do. The colleges at Glastonbury and Anglesey were destroyed. It was hard to pass on the knowledge. And then, thanks to that God-awful Age of Reason, the Culture gradually died out."
"And you are the last," Shavi said.
"Now wouldn't it be a shame for all that thousands of years of knowledge to die out with me?"
"What are you suggesting?"
"The land needs the Culture. The people need the Culture-especially now when they need to learn a new way of living to cope with what it's going to be like out there." He faced Shavi, his eyes sparkling. "I want to start the colleges up again, pass on all the knowledge I've got before I'm gone. Build a new Culture."
"And you want me to help?"
"I want you to be the first to learn. And then I want you to help me pass it on. Maybe set up at Glastonbury, I don't know. What do you say?"
Shavi's face was so serious as he considered the offer that the Bone Inspector was convinced he was going to refuse. But then a warm smile crept across his face. "I think that would be an excellent idea."
When they returned to the fire, thoughts of what lay ahead were put to one side, and once more they were old friends enjoying each other's company. They remembered the ones they had lost and thought about the times they had spent together, and they cried a little. But as good friends should, they helped each other along the rocky path, and after a while they even found the strength to laugh.
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