The Queen of Sinister

by Mark Chadbourn

  They emerged into a chamber filled with a pale grey light emanating from a source they couldn't see. Instantly, the atmosphere in the room hit them like a wall. They both experienced a grief so deep it felt as if their hearts were being torn open. Tears welled up in their eyes unbidden, burning tracks down their hot cheeks.

  In a sudden rush, Jack had an overwhelming sense of his mother, though that memory was impossible. He felt her joy at his birth, swooping, swirling, transcendent, and then the bitter, brutal comedown into devastating misery when he was stolen from her by the gods. Bereft and directionless, her death came soon after, violent and pitiless. Every negative emotion cut him like a knife. He saw it through her eyes, felt it as she did, and in some way he was convinced he was responsible for it all. The full force of the emotion came like a storm; he wanted to kill himself.

  Matt gripped his arm so tightly he squealed. 'Focus on me. Don't feel anything. This is why they call it the House of Pain.' Matt dragged him across the room.

  When they reached the other side they saw plague demons forcing their way through the meaty flaps. They weren't going to give up, ever.

  'We don't stand a chance,' Jack whined.

  'Shut up,' Matt snapped, 'or, God help me, I'm going to punch your lights out.'

  'Don't take me into another room like this,' Jack pleaded.

  There was another slit nearby, but Matt ignored it. Instead, his attention was drawn by a small orifice halfway up the wall. Beyond it was a tunnel barely big enough for them to squeeze into; it pointed upwards.

  'There,' Matt said. Before Jack could protest, Matt boosted him into the opening, then pulled his way in afterwards. 'Don't hang around!' Matt yelled. 'Those little bastards aren't going to slow down!'

  They had to force their way along the tunnel, dragging with their fingers and pressing with their toes, wriggling like snakes and driving their shoulders against the resistance. It felt like crawling through hot flesh, so tight all around that there were moments when they thought it would close in and suffocate them. It pressed hard on their backs, their heads, and every second they choked for air, terrified it would soon close in completely and they would be trapped, unable to go forwards or back.

  It was unbearably hot and pitch black, and they had no sense of direction. The tunnel undulated and twisted, at times so sharply they had to fold in two to get around corners. And all the time, Matt could hear the sound of frantic scrabbling behind him.

  Only the desperate fear of what was coming at their backs prevented them from losing their minds in the nightmarishly claustrophobic environment. They lost all sense of time; there was only the furnace heat and the feeling that they would suffocate and die at any moment.

  It could have been an hour later, or fifteen minutes, when the sound of pursuit faded away. They continued dragging themselves on for a little while longer and then the temperature eased slightly. Soon after, Jack forced his way past the final flap and emerged into a large room. He stretched his mouth wide and sucked in a huge gulp of air, not caring that it was still hot. He realised he was shaking and crying.

  It was a ten-foot drop to the floor, but they were so keen to get out of the tunnel that they jumped instantly without even trying to lower themselves. At the foot of the wall, they lay on their backs, scarcely believing they had made it through the ordeal.

  'Never again,' Matt said. 'I'll let those things give me the damn plague next time.'

  When they had recovered a little, they sat up and looked around. They were in a room the size of a cathedral, the roof lost in the darkness overhead. A thin green light illuminated the lower reaches.

  As their eyes adjusted, they made out two figures like ghosts in the gloom; one was Caitlin, the other a boy.

  The boy looked up with big, troubled eyes when they neared. 'I don't know what's happened to my mummy,' he said. 'She won't talk to me.' Caitlin sat cross-legged, her head bowed. She was rigid, her eyes wide and staring, unseeing.

  'Mummy?' Jack repeated. An image of his own mother hit him hard, accompanied by the terrible grief he had felt in the last room. He wondered if it would be like that for the rest of his life, the two things now inextricably linked.

  'Dammit, she really did it,' Matt said in amazement. He dropped down next to Caitlin and checked her. 'Pulse is fine. Looks like she's having one of her episodes.'

  Jack took Liam to one side. 'Don't worry - your mummy will be fine. She's a great lady ... a heroine.'

  'My mummy?' If Caitlin could have seen the innocent hero-worship in his face, she would have cried.

  Matt held her head up so he could peer deep into her enlarged pupils, so black they almost covered the entire eye. 'I wonder what's going on in there,' he said.

  The wind blasted across the Ice-Field with such force that Caitlin was in no doubt that a storm was coming. She shivered behind the insubstantial shelter of the rocks, peering through the gap across the gleaming white sheet to the black sky at the horizon. She was bewildered; she had spent fifteen minutes talking to Liam, and hugging him, and kissing him, and then suddenly it felt as if hooks had been driven into her flesh and she had been dragged back to this terrible place.

  'You've done it now.' Amy stood behind her, her singsong voice laced with judgment. 'You're going to be sorry.'

  'I won,' Caitlin said. 'I got him back.'

  Brigid cackled bitterly. 'You won? You lost it all! Can't you feel it?'

  And she could; the heat was draining from her, so that she felt more acutely the biting cold. 'What's happening?' she asked.

  'You're a stupid bitch,' Briony said. She sat on a rock, staring into the Ice-Field, smoking neurotically with the look of someone who had accepted defeat. 'We counted on you . .. everyone counted on you . . . and you let us all down. Selfish. So bloody selfish.'

  'But—'

  'Don't start making excuses! We warned you not to give in to despair. You were supposed to rise above it,' Briony continued.

  'But who can do that?' Caitlin said, still not understanding.

  ' You can, you idiot! That's why you were chosen. You're supposed to be better than everyone else - a champion of life. The Blue Fire was in you ... and now it's going.'

  'Going?' Caitlin looked down at her hands.

  'You betrayed it. You—'

  'Do not treat her harshly.' The voice was like a cold wind through a night forest. Briony slid off the rock and cowered behind it. Brigid stopped cackling, and Amy ran behind her, clutching at the old woman's hair.

  The Morrigan emerged from the shadows at the back of the shelter, fierce and beautiful, her hair the deepest, most lustrous black, her skin pale, her lips the brightest red.

  'Any mother would have done the same,' Caitlin protested. 'To get their son back ... I don't care what you all say. That was the only choice I could make.'

  The Morrigan held out her slim hand, and though she was afraid, Caitlin took it. It was filled with a cool power that made Caitlin's head spin. The Morrigan led her to the centre of the sheltered area, and then stood facing her so that Caitlin could lose herself in those dark, unfathomable eyes.

  'Women also understand sacrifice, more, much more than men.' Her voice, though frightening, was also somehow soothing. 'Sacrifice ... the burning heart... for the sake of sisters and brothers, however much pain it causes inside. And you, Caitlin Shepherd, would have been able, when the need came, for you were a Sister of Dragons, one with the flow of Existence. But you were driven from the path ... forced into the wilderness ...'

  'I don't understand,' Caitlin said. 'Who did that?'

  'A man. Always a man, for since the dawn of your age only they have been capable of plumbing the depths of heartlessness, of manipulating women in the age-old struggle. The seasons have shifted, and the sisterhood is coming back to power once more. But some men will not stand for that. They cannot bear women with power. They cannot accept a sister standing shoulder to shoulder with them. And so they will play their male games of power and manipulation, of violenc
e and unnecessary slaughter. To crush us down, sister. To make us lesser.'

  Caitlin's mind was racing at the Morrigan's hypnotic words. 'I was manipulated ... ?'

  'Until the boy's death, you would have chosen the sacrifice to save all Fragile Creatures, despite the hurt you would have felt. His death changed everything. And it was done in the full knowledge that it would take your power away.'

  'I don't understand. It was done to—?'

  'To stop you achieving your potential, sister. As simple as that.'

  Caitlin slumped to the cold, hard ground and hugged her knees. 'But I got Liam back.'

  'Yeah, but at what price.' Briony had found the nerve to speak. 'All those people are going to die - horribly, their spirits infected, just so you can have a bit of happiness ... a happiness that should never have been! Your little boy should have moved on. But the monster behind all this held him back, just so you could make this stupid move. A broken Sister of Dragons is better than a dead one. It causes despair ... it carries on infecting

  'Nobody should be asked to make that kind of decision!' Caitlin said.

  'No,' the Morrigan said. 'Nobody should.'

  'I can't put it right,' Caitlin said. 'I can't give him up, not now I've got him back.'

  'It doesn't matter - it's already too late, you stupid bitch.' Briony rocked backwards and forwards in her hiding place. 'We're all going to hell in a handcart. You made the choice. The Blue Fire is leaving you. You've blown it.'

  Caitlin looked to the Morrigan and thought she saw a hint of sympathy in those cold features. 'True,' the goddess said. 'You are no longer a Sister of Dragons.'

  Amy marched forward with the forced haughtiness of the very young. 'Can't you help us?' she asked the Morrigan.

  'I was sent here for a purpose, and that purpose has now passed,' the Morrigan replied. 'Here and now, I take my leave of you.' She turned back to Caitlin and her voice softened. 'You are a good sister, Caitlin Shepherd, whatever this outcome may mean for your kind.'

  Then she turned and disappeared into the shadows at the back of the shelter. Beyond the rocks, the howling wind grew more intense; it was getting colder.

  'That's it, then,' Briony said. 'It's all over.'

  chapter eighteen Da Capo

  'Two souls with but a single thought, Two hearts that beat as one.' Maria Lovell

  Caitlin spasmed and a large hooded crow burst from her chest. Jack bounded back in shock. Matt watched the bird circle the prone form once and then fly off into the dark.

  When the beating of its wings had faded, Caitlin's eyelids fluttered and she sat up. Matt dropped down beside her to slip an arm round her shoulders.

  'It's OK,' she said woozily.

  'A crow just came out of you. What the hell was that all about?'

  'It doesn't matter now.' Caitlin, still dazed, tried to assimilate the Morrigan's final words. She looked round and panic pushed all thoughts out of her mind. 'Where's Liam?'

  'He went over that way.' Jack pointed into the dark ahead. 'I think he said he'd found another room.'

  Caitlin jumped to her feet and ran on, Matt and Jack hurrying behind, trying to keep up. The next room was lighter and smaller, and there was an opening in the far wall that led on to another place that was brighter still.

  Caitlin ran through it and stopped sharply. Liam's tiny figure was frozen in the middle of the massive chamber, staring at what lay ahead. The rear of the House of Pain was missing, and instead there was space, vast and endless, filled with galaxies and comets, seething gas giants, white dwarfs, gravity wells - a twelve-storey picture window looking out over the whole immeasurable spread of Existence. Around the edges, the warp field shimmered with psychedelic colours,'where one reality merged with another.

  'I never imagined it was so ... big!' Jack gasped.

  'Is that where this place crawled from?' Matt asked.

  As the words left his lips, Caitlin saw movement far, far away, on the very edge of the universe, though she had no idea how she could see that far; it was as though the more she stared, the more she could see. A shadow was coming towards them. In the context of all that lay there, it appeared minuscule and slow-moving. Caitlin knew that was a lie of perception: it was vast - entire galaxies disappeared behind it as it travelled - and it was hurding towards them in a manner, she knew, somehow she knew, that transcended the laws of physics.

  'The Void,' she mouthed.

  And even though the words were soundless, the Void appeared to hear her, for she felt the fall force of its intellect turned on her. It was as if it had looked at her across immeasurable light years, looked direcdy into the deepest part of her where her darkest secrets lay. She staggered back, crushed by the weight of the dread and terror it elicited.

  'It's coming,' she said.

  And in that instant the connection was gone, but she knew what waited for them, in the days, or weeks, or millions of years it would take for it to arrive.

  She slipped her arm around Liam to turn him away from that awful sight, and as she did so another chill swept through her. Behind them, purple mist drifted in the dead heat. The army of the Lament-Brood had slipped in silently to fill the chamber and all the rooms beyond.

  Mary basked in a feeling of utter peace. The air was warm, the sound of the spring soothing, and the sanctity of that place made her feel so secure that she never wanted to leave. More potent was the sense of presence; an intelligence enveloped her, at once immense yet also intimate, as if it were there just for her.

  She's coming, Mary thought, and she had no idea how she knew that, but an instant later a woman appeared in the billowing steam around the hot spring. Mary didn't know what she had expected - a figure filled with lights and stars, she guessed - but what actually emerged was a woman that resembled the Virgin. Mary knew she was seeing the Goddess in a way her mind could comprehend, drawn from the once-comforting iconic images she had seen during her Catholic childhood.

  'Greetings, sister,' the Goddess said warmly. 'You have travelled a hard road to be here. I recognise your strength; you are a true example of all that I hoped for the sisterhood.'

  Mary was lost for words. The Goddess sensed her awe, for she said, 'Come, do not shrink from me. I serve you, as you serve me. I am a part of you, as you are a part of me. That is the message Existence has set before us.'

  Mary swallowed. 'I don't understand what I'm supposed to do ...'

  'There are no limits to anything - worlds upon worlds, gods upon gods, no limit to the heart of Fragile Creatures, no limit to what can be achieved. Time and space are not absolute. Everything is fluid. That, too, is Existence. You must learn this if you seek to understand all that has transpired, and all that will transpire.'

  'Why did you leave the God? Why did you hide away from us?'

  The Goddess's face grew sad. 'Once, we were strong. Our ways were exalted, the way of the moon and the heart and the great, shifting oceans. But the seasons turned. You know, sister, you know. Those who seek power, the enemies of Existence, took it with iron fist. We fell away and away. The great forests were burned, the seas filled with poisons, the grasslands torn up and buried, the hilltops devastated, the air itself filled with sulphur, and the sisterhood's voice grew small and smaller still; many accepted their lot. Too many.'

  'So you left,' Mary said. 'We let you down.'

  'I was still with you, in spirit. I still watched and hoped, waiting for a sign that I would be needed again. But it never came.' She smiled. 'Until now.'

  Mary bowed her head.

  The Goddess stepped forward, and this time there was light, and stars; Mary couldn't look at her. 'You have served me, sister, and now I shall serve you. You came to me with a request. Speak.'

  'My friend ... Caitlin ... she needs help.'

  'I know of whom you speak - another true sister. She, too, has awoken me.'

  'Then you'll help her?'

  'I shall, and I already have. For as I have said, time is not absolute. What I do in your here and n
ow will affect what you have already experienced

  Mary tried to understand what the Goddess was saying. 'You can alter the past?' she ventured.

  'There is no past, or future. Only an endless present. It is your perception that traps you in your view, little sister. What we all do rings out across eternity.'

  The Goddess moved back near to the spring. A second later, a large hooded crow flew out of the steam, circling the room before alighting on the floor next to the Goddess. Strangely, Mary saw the bird but felt as if she was looking at a fierce but beautiful woman with long black hair and cold, intense eyes.

  'The tribes knew her as the Morrigan,' the Goddess explained.

  Mary knew the name, as many in the Craft did. 'She serves you?' she asked.

  The Goddess smiled. 'She is me. A part of me, as you are a part. All the gods are an aspect of something greater, though they think they have individual lives. Names. What are names? Here I was Sulis, and Minerva. Yes, and the Morrigan. And I am Brigid, the goddess with three faces. Three faces, sister - past, present and future, all one, all linked, all looking out across Existence.'

  The crow rose up, its wings beating like the rhythm of the heart, and it flew back into the steam and disappeared.

  'Gone,' the Goddess said, 'to a lonely lane on a stormy night, and a time of terrible heartache for one sister.'

  'Thank you,' Mary said. Her gratitude gave way to a tremendous relief that her journey was finally over. Yet there was a strange, unsetding quality in the Goddess's face that gave her pause. 'The Morrigan will help her, won't she? That's it? It's over?'

  Sadness flickered across the Goddess's features, and Mary knew the answer even before the Goddess spoke. 'Caitlin will now reach the end of her quest, where she would have long fallen before. But that will not be enough. Not even the Morrigan can save her from the forces ranged against her.'

  There was no whispering, but the silence was even eerier. The Lament-Brood stood unmoving, as if awaiting an order.

  'What are they doing?' Jack said. 'Why don't they attack?'

  Matt pressed Jack and Caitlin back towards the warp field, which buzzed like a high-tension wire. A sucking cold urged them to step back further, further, into that fantastic panorama where they would be drawn into the very heart of Existence.