Jack of Ravens

by Mark Chadbourn

  As the tyres spun wildly, Church realised it was already too late. The spiders were sweeping onto the vehicle from every direction.

  ‘Keep away from the sides,’ Church yelled over the racing engine. ‘They’re going to be coming through any second.’ Ahead, the sea of spiders appeared to stretch for ever.

  Holes began to appear in the metal walls of the van. It wasn’t as if the spiders had eaten through, but rather that they had cut through the fundamental force that tethered the molecules together in this reality. Laura positioned herself on the floor of the van and kicked out at any emerging spiders. They flew off into the slipstream before they could get a grip on her boots. Shavi snatched up a wheel brace and did the same.

  Church kept the pedal to the floor. The road led downhill at a slight incline and the van skated from side to side. As they glimpsed a large, empty car park, a metallic scraping rose up.

  ‘They’ve stripped away the tyres,’ Church said.

  ‘Are we going to make it?’ Ruth tried to hide the concern in her voice.

  Church didn’t answer.

  The sides of the van were suddenly ragged. Too many holes were forming for Laura and Shavi to stop the flow.

  ‘They’ll be in any second,’ Laura shouted. ‘How much further?’

  ‘Not far,’ Church lied.

  The spiders had gained purchase on the front of the van and were spreading across the windscreen. Church used the wipers to little effect.

  ‘You’re the one who works the Craft, aren’t you?’ Church said to Ruth. ‘Can’t you do something?’

  ‘I don’t know how … I … I can’t remember—’

  ‘This junkheap is falling apart,’ Laura yelled. ‘I’m going to be sliding on my arse in a second.’

  Ruth bowed her head and closed her eyes. During the journey back through the Far Lands, Church had told her how one in every Five always had mastery of the Craft. It explained the owl, her familiar, but she had no idea how to access the abilities she must have developed in her past life. She concentrated intently.

  The rear doors fell off with a clatter. Streams of golden sparks trailed behind them from the wheel rims. The windscreen was now fully covered by the wriggling black bodies. Soon the glass would disappear and hundreds of the writhing creatures would surge in.

  There was a white flash, like a lightning bolt, and the entire windscreen flew out with the spiders still clinging to it. Ruth convulsed and spat a mouthful of bile to the floor.

  ‘You did it,’ Church said.

  Ruth smiled weakly before slumping back into the seat. Even that little effort had drained her completely.

  The road noise grew drastically louder and Church saw there were no longer any spiders ahead.

  ‘They are leaving,’ Shavi exclaimed. He watched the creatures fly off the van and return to the mass that waited along a clear line a few yards behind them.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Laura said. They had us. Why are they holding back now?’

  Church stopped the van and jumped out, and saw that she was right. The spiders had halted in a wide arc as if held back by an invisible fence. It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘We’re through.’

  The others clambered out. Laura jumped onto Shavi’s back, laughing, and playfully bit his neck.

  He gave her a piggy-back to where Church was supporting Ruth, who was slowly recovering.

  Church nodded to a winding path that led towards the light. Let’s go.’

  I’m not looking forward to getting out of here later,’ Laura said, eyeing the darkness where the spiders waited.

  They followed the path around to a large visitors’ centre. Beyond it was a landscape that looked as if it had been plucked from a 1950s science fiction movie. In a 108-foot-deep former china clay pit stood two enormous geodesic domes surrounded by a massive, lush garden filled with plants from India to Russia. Shavi, Laura and Church recognised the place immediately.

  ‘What are those domes?’ Ruth said. The view was so impressive it made them all stop and stare.

  ‘Greenhouses,’ Laura said. ‘They’re called biomes.’ Everyone looked at her, puzzled. I happen to like the environment,’ she said tartly. Inside one of those domes are trees and plants from the rainforests and tropical islands. The other one has stuff from the Med, California and South Africa. They’re temperature-controlled to match the local climates. You can’t really tell from here, but there are full-grown trees in there. They’ve been calling this place the Eighth Wonder of the World.’ She gave a hard smile. ‘An environmentally friendly paradise.’

  Shavi read the sign by the entrance. ‘The Eden Project. Dedicated to the environment—’ Shavi recalled the words of the spirit-form just before it took his eye: The Fabulous Beast sleeps beneath the Garden of Eden.

  Nature. That makes sense,’ Church mused.

  ‘You’re still not filling me with confidence that you know what you’re doing,’ Laura said.

  ‘Ten minutes ago, I didn’t. Now … maybe.’

  The visitors’ centre was lit up brightly, but eerily still. Church led the way inside.

  ‘Look at this.’ Behind a desk, Ruth pointed out two security guards, both of them in a deep slumber, faint smiles playing on their lips.

  They passed a deserted cafeteria and empty ticket desks. It felt as though all the occupants had suddenly vanished. Doors led outside to a viewing platform on the lip of the crater. Beneath them, a path wound around the side of the pit through the thick vegetation to the floor far below where the biomes and other buildings were located.

  ‘Do you feel it?’ Church said as they looked out over the evocative combination of ancient nature and futuristic design. The atmosphere was electric with the same vibrancy Church had felt at Boskawen-Un and Krakow.

  ‘I do not understand,’ Shavi said, intrigued. ‘I thought the provenance of this power was the ancient sites.’

  ‘So did I,’ Church replied. ‘But it’s here.’

  ‘Get a grip. We’re not alone.’ Laura leaned over the rail of the viewing platform and pointed towards movement on the floor of the crater. Torches bobbed amongst the shadows near a large covered stage. Not far away, in a puddle of electric light, Church could see the tail of a procession of strange beings.

  ‘The Seelie Court,’ he said.

  ‘The travelling court of the Tuatha Dé Danann?’ Ruth said. ‘What are they doing here?’

  ‘When I was in London during the Second World War I developed a bond with them,’ Church answered. I can feel them in my head, wherever they are, and they can sense me. When I was in America in sixty-nine I asked them for a favour.’

  ‘Drugs or sex?’ Laura said.

  ‘A search, for the one thing that could help us.’

  They jogged down the winding path towards the court. As the route opened onto the floor of the pit, they finally comprehended the huge scale of the biomes gleaming in the lights. For Ruth, Shavi and Laura it was the first time they had experienced the otherworldliness of the Seelie Court, and for a moment they could only stand and gape.

  The king and queen approached Church with their attendants.

  ‘Brother of Dragons,’ the king said. ‘So good to see you recovered from your previous predicament. Of course, we knew it was only a matter of time.’

  ‘Your legend grows by the day,’ the queen said lightly.

  ‘And these are your fellow Brothers and Sisters of Dragons?’ The king surveyed the others. Laura was fixated on a man with a hawk’s beak and the legs of a goat, while a woman with silver eyes and grey skin was examining Ruth’s long hair, much to Ruth’s discomfort. Church introduced the three of them.

  ‘You’re here at my request?’ Church asked the king.

  ‘This is where our quest led us, Brother of Dragons. The task you set us was not easy, for the prize did not want to be found. We had to listen quietly to the whisperings of Existence, follow the scents on the wind—’

  ‘Thank you. I’m in your debt. Where—?’
r />   The queen brought a hand to her temple. Her brow furrowed. ‘Beware. The hunters have come.’

  On the lip of the crater high above, five riders were silhouetted against the lights of the visitors’ centre. The spiders couldn’t enter the peculiar magical atmosphere of the site, but Veitch and his four followers had no problem; they had all been touched by the Pendragon Spirit and the Blue Fire held no fear for them.

  Veitch fell into relief as he urged his horse down the winding path. The others followed.

  Church turned to Ruth, Shavi and Laura. ‘We have to find some way to hold them off until I can do what I need to do.’

  ‘Go,’ Shavi said. ‘We will do what we can.’

  The king pointed towards the tropical biome. Church ran for the entrance with the sound of the approaching horses in his ears.

  13

  Sparks flew from the iron-shod hoofs of the horses as they thundered from the path towards the biomes. Ruth was drawn to Veitch, whose dark eyes never left her face. Something crackled between them, but what it was she did not know; he scared her and intrigued her in equal measure.

  She braced herself for a confrontation, but he continued past her, never breaking his stare, which, like her feelings, had a strange duality: accusing and yearning.

  She heard two words as he passed: no quarter.

  It was the second rider who almost brought her down, a once-beautiful woman, her face now half-scarred by burns; Church’s description hadn’t captured the true horror of Etain’s dead, menacing stare. Ruth threw herself out of the way at the last moment.

  Not far away, Tannis, Owein and Branwen focused their attention on Shavi and Laura. The monstrous horses attacked with a terrifying ferocity. Laura threw herself into the dense vegetation with Shavi close behind. The riders moved along the network of paths to head them off.

  Etain tried three more times to run Ruth down, but Ruth felt infused with energy and desperate to make up for all the time she had spent sleeping through her life. Etain remained cold and aloof, as efficient in her attack as a machine, but Ruth sensed some well-hidden part of her that was not that way.

  As they continued their cat-and-mouse game, Etain successfully backed Ruth into a corner. As Etain rode her down, Ruth’s owl swooped from the sky and raked a chunk of dead flesh from the charred side of Etain’s face. Once Ruth had escaped, the owl retreated before Etain could strike.

  Deciding on a change of tactics, Etain leaped from her mount and drew a rusty, bloodstained sword. As she advanced, Ruth realised what was hidden behind those dead eyes: jealousy.

  14

  The heat hit Church like a wall the moment he stepped through the door. In an instant he went from the cool of an English summer evening to the oppressive cauldron of a humid tropical night. High overhead the hexagons and pentagons of the biome roof were just visible through the thick canopy of lofty, flourishing trees. The sound of rushing water thundered all around from artificial waterfalls and streams pouring into languid green pools. Standpipes sprayed a mist of water at regular intervals to maintain the humidity.

  His heart pounding, Church hurried along the twisting path amongst the dense tropical vegetation. He had no idea where he was going – the path branched, leading down to dead ends or rising high up along a rock wall. His clothes were already drenched with sweat.

  He forced himself to calm down. Closing his eyes and letting his breathing become deep and regular, he allowed himself to feel. The Blue Fire called to him. He only had to let himself be drawn into its embrace.

  When he opened his eyes, his perception had changed, yet though he searched along the path there were no blue lines of force. If there was no Blue Fire to guide him, how could he do what had to be done?

  As he turned slowly, ducking down to examine the surface of the path, he caught a glimmer of blue deep in the undergrowth. Peering in, he saw a barely visible sapphire filigree, secret, only for those who really wanted to find it. His prize had been as well hidden as the king had said. Scuttling on his hands and knees, he followed the thin blue line into the vegetation.

  He only heard the padding footsteps at the last moment before the full weight of a body slam sent him sprawling across the path. Veitch loomed over him, the black fire of his sword casting swirling shadows. Church rolled out of the way as the blade came down. He was half-up when Veitch caught him in the face with a boot and he toppled over a railing and into the warm waters of a pool. Taking a breath, he swam beneath the surface.

  Veitch dived in, raising torrents as he chopped wildly into the water with the sword. He finally caught Church beneath a deafening waterfall where the cascade eliminated the outside world, and the two of them were enclosed in a private prison of sound and fury. Church dodged another thrust, but instead of retreating he darted forward and smashed a fist into Veitch’s face. His knuckles rang with pain, but Veitch pitched backwards into the churning water, spraying blood behind him.

  Church leaped out through the waterfall and scrambled up a steep bank, using thick vines and overhanging branches for purchase. He eventually hauled himself over a railing and back onto the path. In the pool, there was no sign of Veitch.

  He wrenched free a piece of railing; a poor weapon, but it would have to do. Quickly, he ducked down and searched until he found the near-invisible line of force. Keeping low, he followed it as fast as he could until he came to a hut on stilts, constructed to show how people lived in the tropics. The line continued underneath it.

  A supplicant serpent, Church wriggled on his belly until he came to a spot in the most inaccessible area where a barely visible circle of Blue Fire formed in the soil. He slammed his palm down into the centre of it. The Pendragon Spirit within him spoke to the Blue Fire hiding in the earth. The ground rumbled and a small hole opened up. Church threw himself in.

  15

  Laura scrambled through dense bushes that tore at her skin, but however much she tried to hide, the riders somehow knew exactly where she was. Tannis drove his mount into the vegetation, hoofs smashing inches from her head with the force of a steam hammer.

  She pressed further into the thicket, only to realise the sounds of Tannis’s pursuit had changed. Looking back, she saw the bushes moving with a life of their own, growing and changing as they wrapped around the horse’s legs.

  Laura knew she had caused it, but had no idea how. As Tannis drew his sword and prepared to pursue her on foot, a branch shot out like a spear and burst through his chest. It pinned him like a butterfly in a collector’s case, and though she knew he was already dead, Laura was still sickened by the way he tried to tear himself free.

  She escaped from the undergrowth onto the path. Across the base of the crater, she could see Branwen and Owein trying to trap Shavi in a pincer movement. Further down near the biome, the Seelie Court had given Ruth cover so she could escape Etain’s attack. Ruth was slipping quietly along a raised walkway and into the biome. Yet it looked to Laura as though Etain knew exactly where Ruth was going; indeed, that Etain had herded her that way on purpose.

  16

  After falling down the hole, Church found himself in a tunnel that sloped steeply downwards. The heat was as heavy as in the biome and added to the claustrophobic atmosphere. He skidded over damp rock gleaming in the half-light and came to a cavern that was barely the size of half a football pitch with a ceiling only the height of three men. A small pool of Blue Fire crackled in the centre, and in it slept the Fabulous Beast that had fled Vietnam, coiled tightly in the sustaining energy, its wounds still visible on its scales.

  Church approached cautiously. The heavy-lidded eyes were closed and its breathing sounded like the rumbling of a traction engine.

  When he had asked the Seelie Court to search for the Beast’s hiding place, he knew it was the key to his ability to fight back, but he wasn’t sure if even the Tuatha Dé Danann would be able to locate it.

  As Church considered how to wake the Beast from its long, recuperative slumber, he heard movement behind him. Vei
tch stood in the entrance to the tunnel, his blade fizzing and spitting as if in opposition to the Blue Fire.

  ‘Stay away, Veitch,’ Church said. ‘It’s too late now. Once I wake this thing you’ll be toast.’

  ‘You always used to call me Ryan.’ His face gave nothing away.

  ‘You’ve wasted your time trying to get revenge. I didn’t kill you over Ruth. I did it because I had no choice. You were being manipulated by the gods and you were going to wreck everything.’

  ‘We’re all puppets in one way or another.’ He pointed the sword towards the rocks and the black flames snapped angrily. ‘When we met, you treated me like an equal. We set out on that road and there was a lot of death and a lot of pain, but for the first time I felt as if I wasn’t on my own. I had friends like I’d never had before, who listened to me and trusted me.’ He looked away and Church was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

  ‘We can—’

  ‘No, we can’t!’ he raged. ‘You don’t get it, do you? Things always work out for you. Born to be the king. The worst thing is to start out with misery, get shown a bit of hope and then have it taken away. If you lived in misery all your life you wouldn’t know any difference. Having that bit of hope makes all the bad stuff a hundred times worse. A thousand. I wish I’d never known you. I wish I’d never been a Brother of Dragons, just so I wouldn’t have to keep thinking how things might have been.’

  He gripped his sword with two hands and raised it. In the glare from the black flames, his face took on a monstrous cast.

  ‘That’s why I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to kill that.’ He jabbed the sword towards the Fabulous Beast. And then I’m going to make sure there’s no more Blue Fire, and no more hope, so nobody has to go through what I’ve been through.’

  Church backed up until he was ankle-deep in the Blue Fire, and felt it call out to his own Pendragon Spirit. He held up the piece of broken railing and thought how pathetic it looked.