Her first instinct was to fit an arrow and draw her bow, though she knew instinctively it would be of no use. Now that her head was clear she could sense the ghosts' predatory nature; she had the impression that they hated her, wanted not only to destroy her but to torment her in the process.
She caught a glimpse of another face, eyes too big and dark, mouth wide. Not human at all.
She ran, hoping she was heading towards the others. Branches tore at her face. And then she thundered straight into a long, low object that winded her. She was shocked to see it was a casket, standing on its own with no sign of why it would be there, in such a lonely, inhospitable place. It was constructed from gold and ivory, and the lid was made of a heavy, frosted glass. On the side was a legend: Here lies Jack Churchill, Brother of Dragons — His final battle fought. Before Caitlin could work out what it meant, the ghosts-that-were-something-more flitted all around, hurrying to close the circle. There was still an opening, but before she could break through it, she was knocked to the soft peat-mould. Though winded once more, she fought wildly until powerful hands clamped her down and a gentle voice said, 'Do not struggle, Fragile Creature. I am a friend of you and all your kind.'
She looked up into an incredibly beautiful face: golden skin, high cheekbones, almond eyes, long hair — everything about him was filled with a lustre. More than that, he exuded a tremendous power that invigorated and excited her.
But as he looked into her face, his expression grew curious. 'A Sister of Dragons? Can this be?'
'My… my name is Caitlin.'
He rose, offering an exquisite hand to pull her gently to her feet. As he looked her up and down, with a surprising awe that mirrored her own, he nodded and said, 'Yes, it is so. And here, in the Forest of Glimmering Hope.' He gave a formal bow. 'My name is Triathus. I am one of the Golden Ones, the people your tribes once called the Tuatha De Danann.'
Caitlin was briefly puzzled — he looked nothing like the short, stout residents of the Court of Soul's Ease. But before she could question him, he became aware of his surroundings and quickly took her hand once again. 'Come. We must reach the path before the Gehennis decide to attack.'
The circling ghosts had drawn back at Triathus' appearance, but were now confident enough to move closer once again.
'What are they?' Caitlin asked. Some quality in his nature made her trust him instantly. She allowed herself to be led by the hand as he loped gracefully through the trees. The ghosts buzzed with increasing annoyance, unsure what to do. 'They are the dreams of dying Fragile Creatures,' he replied. 'Bitterness and hatred for what has been lost consumes them, for they know they can never be dreamed again. They prey on all who stray from the path, but Fragile Creatures are always their choicest meat.'
'They eat us?'
He glanced at her with a puzzled expression, as if she were speaking a foreign language, yet his English was impeccable. 'Not in the manner that you mean. They have no interest in your corporeal form. But who you are, what you think, what you dream… that is what feeds them.'
'My soul?'
He nodded, satisfied. 'The Gehennis are soul-eaters.'
The calls of Matt and Crowther were now much clearer, and through the foliage Caitlin could glimpse them ranging back and forth. 'There are my friends,' she said.
'The Gehennis chose you because your essence, your soul is stronger. Otherwise your friends would be long gone.'
The Gehennis made one last move as the path came into view. They streamed from several directions, their true appearance growing more horrific with each passing second. Triathus faced them and made a strange gesture with his hand that resulted in a blaze of golden light. When Caitlin's eyes cleared, there were no Gehennis to be seen anywhere.
'We must hurry. They will return,' Triathus said.
They came to a halt on the path where Matt and Crowther's astonishment quickly turned to suspicion.
'It's OK,' Caitlin said. 'He helped me.'
Jack hung back, his face dark with fear and hatred. Triathus noticed him and held out both his hands, palms upward. 'I see in you the mark of the Court of the Final Word,' he said. 'I can only apologise for the atrocities of my people. I stand with Fragile Creatures, as do all members of my court.'
'Which court is that?' Jack asked darkly.
'The Court of Peaceful Days.'
This appeared to placate Jack, but he continued to keep his distance from Triathus.
'What were you doing out there, alone?' Caitlin asked.
At this, Triathus grew sombre. 'My people are at war-'
'We were told — by Lugh.'
'Then know this: the first skirmish has already taken place. The horns of war have called forth and the Golden Ones are split asunder, perhaps for evermore.' There was a desperate sadness to his voice. 'My comrades and I were travelling the Endless River, bound for the Court of Soul's Ease to persuade Lugh to join our cause, for if Lugh agreed, other neutral courts would quickly follow. But as we moored, we were attacked — unwarned, at our backs, against all the long traditions of my people — by a group from the Court of the Yearning Heart. My comrades were slaughtered where they stood! Golden Ones, eternal, part of Existence itself… lost for all time! How could this happen? How could one of my people commit such a crime against another?'
'We've been asking that question for a long time,' Matt said.
'I still do not know if this is the first strike in the greater battle, or simply a minor altercation, prefiguring what is to come,' Triathus continued. 'My people are patient — we have eternity at our disposal — but if it is the beginning, those who fight for the future are ill-prepared. We will be slaughtered.' He added coldly, with disbelief, 'Perhaps that is what the other side wants.'
'A fight between those who want to hang on to the past, and those willing to grab hold of the future,' Matt said thoughtfully.
'Between consistency and change,' Triathus said. 'My people, of all the peoples, should know that change is the lifeblood of Existence. But we have remained stagnant for too long, and we have grown arrogant in our superiority. We do not want to be supplanted.'
'Then why do you fight for us?' Caitlin asked.
'Because my side do not believe we will be supplanted. There is no reason why the Golden Ones and Fragile Creatures — no longer fragile! — cannot go shoulder to shoulder into the future, equals in an unstable realm.'
Triathus' sadness and shock were affecting. But it was Carlton who came from the back and took Triathus' hand. He looked up at the god with his beaming, innocent face and a sparkle came to Triathus' eyes.
'Intriguing,' Triathus mused as he examined Carlton, without giving any further explanation.
Crowther, who had been listening with an expression of deep concentration, rudely pushed his way past Caitlin and said, 'You've got a boat?'
Triathus indicated along the path. 'Moored on the Endless River-'
'Is it damaged?'
'No.'
'Will you allow us to use it? We are on a very important quest for the survival of… Fragile Creatures.'
'Of course,' Triathus replied without a second thought. 'I will accompany you. I must return to the Court of Peaceful Days to recount what has occurred.'
'Let's get moving,' Matt said. 'I don't like all that movement in the trees… and that wild animal we heard earlier
They set off quickly, with Triathus leading the way. The path ran straight as a die for what must have been ten miles, through forest clearings where they enjoyed the sun on their faces after the chill beneath the branches, through patches of briars that they had to hack their way through, across crystal streams and by brackish pools, where strange bubbles rose occasionally to the surface of the oily water. When they were less than half a mile from the river, according to Triathus' estimations, they realised they could smell it, fresh and invigorating after the oppressive aromas of sun-heated vegetation.
Mahalia was unusually drawn to Triathus. Throughout the course of the journey, the other
s all saw her eyes repeatedly pulled towards the god, and a mixture of awe and wonder light her often sullen face. At those moments she no longer resembled the hardened, brutal young woman they had come to know, and there was a hint of the child she might have been in easier times.
Finally they could glimpse the river through the trees, ablaze with the reds, oranges and golds of the setting sun. After the gloom of the forest it was an uplifting sight, and their step quickened despite their exhaustion.
Jack was keen to rush ahead to the water, but Matt caught his shoulder before he could run off. 'Wait. I can hear something.'
They all could, now they were listening clearly; trees and branches cracked as the enormous thing that had circled them for most of their journey moved nearby. Its rumbling roar rolled out through the trees, setting their teeth on edge, making their stomachs turn.
They all stopped as one, swords and bows drawn. 'Where is it?' Caitlin asked.
'I think I see it over there.' Mahalia pointed past a wall of creeper. A tree crashed to the ground nearby, and they all briefly caught sight of something as big as a bus moving through the shadows.
'My God!' Crowther hissed.
Caitlin loosed an arrow, but the thing was already gone as it whistled through the trunks.
'Don't bring it to us!' Mahalia snapped.
'I think it's already decided we're on the menu.' Matt looked along the path and saw that the vegetation thinned out in the approach to the river. 'If we can get to the boat-' An enormous shadow fell across them. Caitlin turned to face the creature. It was a boar, but supernaturally large and hideous, its features alien, its tusks stained with gore.
Crowther blanched. 'Twrch Trwyth.'
Triathus knew it by another name. 'The Waustig.'
Yet it didn't attack. It cast one brief look in their direction and then lumbered back into the trees, the deep bass rumble of its voice sounding like an industrial machine. Something was amiss with the great boar. Caitlin noticed it was unsteady on its hooves, occasionally blundering into nearby trees, while its blazing eyes roamed as if it were drunk. A black liquid dripped from its razor teeth and inky lines spread out from around its snout into its dark-brown bristle.
'You know what it is?' Caitlin asked Crowther.
'The boar was a totem animal of the Celts, something of incredible power,' Crowther said. 'In the myths, Twrch Trwyth was supposed to be an evil king transformed into this shape by God. It can't be killed.'
As the thing disappeared into the green depths, relief flooded them and they hurried on. Breaking out of the forest felt like being released from a terrible weight. They all came up hard at the sight of the river. It was much bigger than they had expected, at that point almost a quarter of a mile across, and majestic in the dying sun's crimson glow; a river of blood. It flowed slowly, the trees hard up against it on either bank.
The path ran alongside it for about twenty yards and ended at a roughly constructed jetty. Moored to it was a boat of breathtaking beauty, silver and gold, decorated with a mass of intricate carvings of fish, waves and birds. A graceful swan's neck formed the prow. It was the size of a cruiser, big enough for all of them.
'That is amazing,' Matt said in quiet admiration.
'It'll do,' Crowther said. 'Can we board it?' He glanced nervously over his shoulder in the direction of the forest. 'It is at your disposal,' Triathus said. 'Simply say what you would like it to do, and it will obey. Its name is Sunchaser.'
Mahalia traced her fingertips gently along the hull and then withdrew them in surprise. 'It feels like… skin — warm.'
Triathus led them on board. Below were cramped quarters and some meagre stores of water, bread and cured meat.
'Did you bury the bodies of your comrades?' Caitlin asked.
Triathus stared across the water towards the setting sun. 'There are no bodies. When my people die, they return to Existence.'
'I'm sorry for what happened to you,' Caitlin said.
'I think we should set off as soon as we can,' Jack interrupted. He had been watching the tree line. 'It's getting dark.'
He didn't need to say more. Triathus spoke a word that none of the others could understand, and which made their ears ache even though it was spoken quietly. In response, Sunchaser moved slowly and eerily away from the jetty and into the current. It swung around until it was facing upriver and then set off.
'That was a very brave thing you did, firing on that boar.' Matt silently joined Caitlin at the rail where she had been watching the trees.
'I've got something very important to do. Nothing's going to stand in the way.'
Her words were forceful, but Matt could see she was troubled. 'What's wrong?' he asked.
'I don't know… something about the boar. I just have a bad feeling about what lies ahead.'
Night fell quickly.
Chapter Nine
Following the river to its source
'I do not wish them to have power over men; but over themselves.'
Mary Wollstonecraft
Caitlin washed her hair by moonlight in crystal-cold river water pulled up from their wake by a silver bucket. As the grease and dirt came out, she felt a little better, but the exhilaration of the new world and the feeling of passing through a fascinating dream was gone for good. It had all felt so fantastic: a trip to a mystical realm to find a magical cure for something so devastatingly human as illness. Now questions were beginning to pile up. Why was the Lament-Brood hunting her? Why were the Whisperers so desperate to get her that it seemed they would never give up? Why did she feel she was playing an important role in some vast, unknowable scheme? She hoped it was all part of her fragmented state of mind — paranoia and megalomania building — and that everything really was as pure and simple as she had originally imagined. But things were never that simple, were they?
It didn't help that Brigid was chattering incessantly in the back of her head. Caitlin had stopped listening to her a while ago — it was the only way Caitlin could go about her life — but the old woman was certainly concerned about something.
While fumbling for the cloth she was using as a towel, it was pressed into her hand. Carlton was there.
'Hello,' Caitlin said, as she dried herself off. 'Aren't you on lookout with Mahalia?'
He smiled and nodded to the prow, where Mahalia sat with Jack.
'Ah, she's got a boyfriend,' Caitlin noted. Carlton laughed silently. 'Well, sit with me a while.'
They settled into a bench seat set against the rail, where the warm evening breeze would dry her hair. Caitlin was surprised when Carlton rested his head against her shoulder; she put one arm around him.
'I wish I knew exactly what was going on inside your head, Carlton,' she said. 'Were you always like this, or did something happen to you?'
He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge that he had heard her at all.
The warmth of his body next to hers brought a sudden swell of emotion, surprising in its intensity after the numbness she had felt for so long. She fought back the tears, somehow managing to control her voice. 'I used to have a little boy — his name was Liam. He used to like books and computer games and music, and his skateboard. I don't know if you like any of those things, but… you're like him in a different way. Quiet, thoughtful… I think he was a good person, and I think you are too, Carlton. There aren't enough good people in this world.' She gave him a squeeze, trying not to sound too maudlin, nor to swamp him with adult emotion. 'I'm going to look after you,' she added softly.
In the quiet that followed her words, there were only the gentle river noises, until somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. A while later, Caitlin made her way to Triathus, who stood at the stern looking out over the moonlit water, deep in thought.
'We appreciate your help,' she said. 'These are difficult times,' he replied. 'We should stand shoulder to shoulder as allies. Perhaps more than that. We are all Children of Existence.'
'If only your people agreed on that.'
'I fe
ar there will be much suffering before the Golden Ones are united once more,' he said sadly. 'That it has come to this fills me with despair.'
'Are the other side likely to attack us here on the boat?'
'Perhaps. I keep watch for any sign.'
'But you never saw them coming before?'
'No.' A shadow crossed his face as he watched the white wake spread out in a V.
'Can you see something?'
'No, but still… Something troubles me, if only I could identify it.'
Caitlin followed his gaze, but could see nothing out of the ordinary.
'I feel… a presence. But I see nothing.' He turned to her and smiled gently. 'And my eyes are keener than yours.'
'When I heard about the old gods returning, I never imagined them to be quite like you, Triathus. You're gentler than I expected. Where are all the flashing lights and displays of power that terrified the Celts?'
'Though we like to think of ourselves as immutable, we — some of us — were different in the days of which you speak, Sister of Dragons.'
He placed one hand on each side of her head. She flinched at first, but his gentle nature calmed her. His fingers felt cool, but deep within them something crackled like electricity. 'You have suffered greatly,' he began. 'High tragedy. Yet you continue to strive for the good of others.' Caitlin felt a soft movement in the back of her head, as if his fingers were probing there. 'The Broken Woman,' he mused. 'Shattered, yet still whole.' His expression changed. 'Something else lies there… hiding.' He snatched his hands away; Caitlin felt a sucking sensation inside her head.
'What is it?'
'I do not know. I sensed…' He pondered, then made a dismissive gesture. 'Perhaps it is nothing.'
'I don't envy you probing around in my mind. I know… I know I'm not well.'
'You make a misjudgment common to your kind,' Triathus said. 'There is no one way of being, no singular way of seeing the world. Your spirit has made your… mind how you need to be for this moment, to survive, to win.'
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