Destroyer of Worlds Page 11

  6

  Mallory spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for that evening’s ritual. An oppressive apprehension mounted with the fading of the light, and by the time night fell the feeling was so potent it appeared to have spread across the entire city. Fewer lights burned in the windows of the houses, and none of the familiar songs rose up from the inns and public squares. Beyond the walls, the war camps were silent. The Burning Man hung over all.

  As Mallory looked out across the city from the window of his chamber, his attention was drawn by one particular light in the winding streets below. It was blue and moving from side to side in a manner that suggested it was signalling. After a moment or two, he became convinced it was signalling to him, although he knew how ridiculous that would have seemed to anyone else.

  With little else to do until the ritual, he made his way down to the approach to the palace. To his surprise, the light still wavered gently in the street ahead. Intrigued, he headed towards it, only for the light to move away. He followed for a while, but when he stopped, the light stopped too, and that was when he realised it was leading him on. Remembering the Hortha in the palace loft, he let one hand fall to his sword and proceeded with caution.

  Along winding streets, down alleys and across deserted courtyards, he pursued the light, always the same distance ahead. Just when he thought he really was taking an indiscriminate risk, he came to a part of the city he had never visited before, and an overgrown area in the centre of a square, fenced off by rusted, sagging iron railings. Stone monuments engulfed by ivy rose from the long, yellowing grass. It reminded Mallory of an abandoned Victorian cemetery. The gate hung open, and the blue light flickered amongst the statues and mausoleums.

  ‘I’ve played the game this far. Time to own up,’ Mallory said as he stepped through the gate.

  ‘Brother of Dragons. Draw nearer.’

  Mallory recognised the resonant voice. Relaxing, he pushed through the long grass until he encountered a towering figure waiting in the lee of a statue. A wild mane of black hair and a thick beard, coal eyes simmering beneath an overhanging brow. A belted shift of what appeared to be sackcloth. A thong fastened around his left forearm bore several cruel hooks. The blue light came from the dancing flame of a lantern.

  ‘Caretaker,’ Mallory said. ‘You found your way to me again.’

  Mallory recalled the first time he had encountered the mysterious stranger in Salisbury, and discovered that he was, if not a friend, then a benign guide through the dark places.

  ‘I will always be near you, Brother of Dragons.’

  ‘Why are you here, now?’

  The Caretaker raised the lantern so the illumination picked out the strength in his features. ‘My lamp. The Wayfinder. With this, I walk the boundaries of this world and all worlds. A light burning brightly in the long watches of the night.’

  ‘I know the lamp. It’s guided the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons on more than one occasion.’

  ‘And so it shall again.’ As the Caretaker lowered the Wayfinder, the flame moved with a life of its own. ‘All there has ever been has been leading towards this time. Millions upon millions of interlocking events, grains of sand, one bumping into another, shifting the course of a mighty river. And I have shepherded them all. But soon my work will come to an end.’

  ‘You work with the Puck?’

  ‘The Oldest Things in the Land are agents of a higher purpose.’

  ‘How do I know you haven’t been manipulating me?’

  ‘I have been manipulating you.’ His eyes glowed. ‘But that does not mean that I do not look on you and the other Brothers and Sisters of Dragons with fondness. Your road has been long and hard and I have shone the light for you whenever you needed to see your way. But soon your journey will be over.’

  ‘I don’t know if I like the sound of that.’

  After a moment of silence, the Caretaker said, ‘Remember, Brother of Dragons, that even terrible events, from one perspective, may lead to great good from another, greater perspective. The view across Existence is limitless, and within that all things have their place. Leave the deep sadness in your heart behind, and turn your attention to the distant horizon.’

  The Caretaker’s words reminded Mallory of something Ogma had said to him in his great library and, as then, they touched him on a level he couldn’t comprehend. ‘So you’re here to show me the way?’ Mallory asked.

  ‘An old friend will show you the way.’ The Caretaker smiled, and as he raised the lantern even higher, the blue flame leaped and grew.

  Mallory took a step back as the flame jumped from the Wayfinder and surged into the crackling shape of a man. ‘Hello, Mallory,’ it said.

  Within the Blue Fire, features flickered. It was Hal, Mallory knew, the fourth member of his team, who had sacrificed himself to the currents of the Blue Fire to help and guide the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons across the ages.

  ‘Hal. Everyone says you’re hot stuff.’

  Laughter rose and fell as the flames danced. ‘I like you, Mallory. I’ve been keeping a particular eye on you from the depths of my blue home. Pity we couldn’t have hung out, you know, when I had a body.’

  ‘Not exactly a bundle of laughs at the moment. Lot on my plate.’

  ‘Which is exactly why I’m here. You’re going to the Grim Lands . . . or the Grey Lands . . . why does that place get two names? It’s a big place, Mallory. Infinite, in fact. The chance of you just stumbling across the Extinction Shears is . . . well, it’s not going to happen.’

  ‘We like our missions impossible.’

  ‘I bet you’d like some help more. Say, a lantern with a flame that will point relentlessly to the object you’re searching for.’

  Mallory grinned. ‘That might come in handy.’

  ‘Thought you’d say that. Only one problem: the Blue Fire doesn’t reach there. You couldn’t have such a powerful force for life in a place of death, right? And that means the Wayfinder wouldn’t work properly . . . unless you took your own powerhouse of Blue Fire with you.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Me. I have to detach myself from the flow, which will be a wrench. It’s amazing in here, Mallory, like being in touch with everything, feeling everything, seeing how it’s all interconnected, how it all means something. Can you imagine what that’s like?’

  The note of loss in his voice was powerful. ‘But you’re still going to do it?’ Mallory asked.

  ‘Of course. How could I not?’

  ‘And . . . what? You get to be the genie in the lamp?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s me. I’ll be able to help you out in a much more personal and direct way than I can now. But you’re going to have to look after me too. Once I cut myself off from the flow of the Blue Fire, I lose so much power. In that form, I can be . . . I hate to use the term “killed” for a living flame, but that about sums it up. I die. I don’t go back to the Blue Fire.’ Again, that palpable sense of loss in his voice.

  ‘We’ll look after you, Hal. You can count on us.’

  ‘Then it’s done. Take the lantern, Mallory . . . and let’s strike out for the great adventure.’

  The figure flickered, faded and disappeared back into the lantern. The Caretaker held it out for Mallory to take. ‘Be strong, Brother of Dragons, and trust the light to guide your way.’

  When Mallory’s fingers closed around the Wayfinder there was an electric burst and a feeling of well-being rushed through him. The flame engulfed his whole vision, and when he finally looked around, he was alone.

  7

  On the roof of the Fortress of the Enemy, amidst the smell of rotting meat and the thick, greasy smoke, the Libertarian watched the stars.

  ‘How I hate them.’ He sighed.

  Niamh took his hand. ‘Not long now.’

  ‘Yes. Nearly there.’ He turned his attention to the crackling outline of the Burning Man, now half-filled with fire.

  ‘Tell me how it happens,’ she said with a note of glee.

  He
cast a dismissive glance her way. ‘A bitter desire for revenge is not a very attractive quality, you know.’

  ‘You must feel it too. Hatred for him, for all of them, and everything they stand for.’

  ‘Actually, no. They’re misguided. Poor lambs who have lost their way. Unfortunately, once they are back on the path, they become sheep to the slaughter.’

  ‘Tell me how it happens,’ she repeated.

  ‘Only I get to know that. This whole business is . . . hmm, let me select a cliché for your enjoyment . . . a house of cards. So fragile. A mass of subtle, interconnecting events. Change one and the whole thing falls apart.’

  ‘Even now?’

  ‘Especially now. As we approach the end, everything is in a state of flux. So many variables. But do not worry, my bitter, twisted love. I intend to keep a firm hand on the tiller. If the currents try to push us away, I will steer us back into the flow of the blood-dimmed tides. Subtlety is the key. A shift in emotion can be just as effective as a slice across the jugular. More so, in fact.’

  ‘But you wait here?’ Niamh said. ‘Why are you not influencing the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons?’

  Because,’ he said with a faint smile as he turned back to the stars, ‘all goes to plan.’

  8

  After sharing the news about the Wayfinder, Mallory and Caitlin made their goodbyes in a bright manner that belied the nature of what they were about to endure.

  They took themselves to Math’s chamber where the sorcerer had already marked out a ritual space in the centre of the floor. He stood in one corner, quietly mouthing incantations that left the atmosphere charged. Veitch perched on the edge of a table, flexing his silver hand rhythmically.

  ‘You ready?’ he said.

  ‘You’re joking?’ Mallory said. ‘Dying is the biggest human fear. You condition yourself to spend all your life running in the opposite direction.’

  ‘It’s not an ending.’ Caitlin’s axe was strapped in a harness across her back. ‘If anyone should know that, it’s the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons.’

  ‘Easy for you to say, with the Morrigan riding you like a horse. This is home ground for her.’

  ‘If it makes it any easier, I’ve been through it,’ Veitch said.

  ‘It doesn’t.’

  ‘Why did you do it?’ Caitlin asked.

  ‘I wanted to break any control the spiders had over me,’ Veitch replied. ‘I wanted to be my own man again.’ He paused. ‘This is going to sound weird, but the Grim Lands are the only place I ever felt at home.’

  ‘That’s sad,’ Caitlin said.

  ‘No, it’s weird.’ Mallory cast a suspicious eye towards Math, whose incantation had grown louder. ‘What’s it like?’ he added uneasily.

  ‘Pain, just for a bit. Then it’s like being on a roller coaster heading down the biggest dip. Queasy. And then . . . nothing. Next thing you know, you’ll be waking up in the temple in the Grim Lands. Don’t touch anything there, right? It’s the Void’s place. Get straight out.’

  ‘And the dead?’ Caitlin asked.

  ‘Don’t expect them to be friendly. They welcomed me with open arms . . . I don’t know why. But they’re not usually so happy about the living trespassing on their ground.’

  ‘How do I know this isn’t just one of your ploys to do me in?’ Mallory asked.

  ‘Look, mate, I know you don’t trust me, and I know you don’t like me, but honestly, if I wanted to do that, I’d just gut you in your room at night when you weren’t looking.’

  ‘You could try.’

  ‘All right.’ Caitlin sighed. ‘Let’s put the whole men thing behind us. This is serious.’

  ‘Just . . . don’t worry,’ Veitch continued. ‘I wasn’t going to take any risks with this. I went out of my way to find a ritual that could take me over the barrier in one piece. I was primed and fully charged when Church got me down in Cornwall. Half an hour after they carted my body off, I was in the Grim Lands. And here I am. I look okay to you?’

  Mallory took a deep breath and looked to Caitlin. ‘Okay, then. We’ve got a job to do.’

  She took his hand and led him into the ritual circle.

  ‘It’s the ride of a lifetime, Mallory. Imagine how much more you’re going to appreciate life when you’ve died and come out the other side.’

  ‘How do you know I haven’t died and come back already?’ Mallory said. Caitlin fixed him with a quizzical gaze, but he didn’t respond.

  Math’s voice grew louder, the rhythmic chanting taking on a hypnotic quality. The atmosphere became more intense. Strange shadows flitted across the room.

  ‘Here.’ Veitch handed them each a goblet of dark liquid. ‘So you won’t feel a thing.’

  ‘How are you going to do it?’ Mallory asked.

  Veitch held up a long silver knife, the handle carved with symbols.

  Mallory eyed it for a moment, then downed his drink in one. ‘Death, here we come,’ he said with as much bravado as he could muster.

  9

  Night was falling as the thick smudge of black moved across the entire span of the Great Plain. Storm clouds boiled above it, throwing out jagged bolts of lightning that turned the darkening sky white, and with it came the deep, resonant heartbeat in the ground. Thoom. Thoom. Thoom.

  The Enemy had arrived.

  With a mounting feeling of dread, Church watched from the battlements of the great wall. Even with the Army of the Ten Billion Spiders and the Burning Man, he had never really comprehended the true scale of what they faced. ‘How many of them are there?’ he breathed.

  ‘Perhaps a million.’ Beside him, Lugh remained phlegmatic. ‘Perhaps more.’

  ‘How can anyone survive this kind of battle?’ Church said.

  ‘We do what we can. As do you.’

  Lugh’s faith was touching, but Church had a more immediate concern. ‘How are we going to get past the Enemy lines?’

  ‘There may be another route.’ Math’s eerie, echoing voice rose up behind Church, where the sorcerer had just arrived with Veitch and Tom.

  ‘All done?’ Church asked.

  Veitch nodded, but wouldn’t meet Church’s eyes. The killing had clearly affected him.

  ‘What other route?’ Church asked.

  ‘There are paths that cross lands and time and everything we know. One only needs to locate the correct door,’ Math replied. ‘Through Winter-side, which shimmers just a breath away from this land, stories tell of many routes.’

  ‘You can show us the way?’

  Math shook his head. ‘There are only stories. One speaks of a door in the Halls of the Drakusa, which exists, like this Great Court, in both Summer-side and Winter-side.’

  ‘Then we could get into Winter-side here, and back out again there,’ Veitch said.

  ‘How do we find it?’ Church asked.

  ‘There are only stories,’ Math repeated.

  Tom sighed. ‘All you great heroes, and as usual, you’re at a loss. It’s a good job I’m here.’ He showed them the ring Freyja had given him. ‘One of its more pleasing abilities is to guide the owner to their heart’s desire. That led us to Ruth, so you know it works. I suppose, if you ask me nicely, I can accompany you to Winter-side and show you the way.’

  ‘Woo hoo,’ Veitch said with weary sarcasm. ‘Us and the old git on the road again. Just like old times.’

  Thoom-thoom-thoom. The walls shook as the Enemy neared.

  Night fell.

  Chapter Three

  THE HALLS OF THE DRAKUSA

  1

  In the centre of an unremarkable cobbled square stood the Gateway to Winter, a stone arch marked with a leafless tree on the keystone. Around it, a still, black pool reflected the glittering stars so that it appeared as if what was above also lay below.

  Gathered before the arch, Church and the others were dressed in thick furs despite the summery warmth.

  ‘Winter-side has many dangers,’ Lugh said to Church, who was carrying out a last-minute check of pr
ovisions. ‘My people have always avoided its desolation, but the stories of the terrors that lurk there are rife. Some say it was the original home of the Fomorii, and anywhere that could birth that foul race cannot be a good land.’

  ‘We’re not complacent,’ Church replied. ‘We know the Void is going to do everything it can to stop us reaching the Fortress of the Enemy. It’s worried that we might be able to stop it, and that means we stand a chance.’