‘Speak for yourself,’ Laura snapped, but it was clear she accepted the truth.
‘So the five of us were brought together when everything went pear-shaped,’ Veitch continued. ‘Technology started failing. Weird supernatural stuff was breaking out all over the place. The golden-skinned bastards decided they were going to set up camp here. And to top if off, their old enemies the Nightwalkers invaded.’
Laura glanced at Shavi, wondering how much of Veitch’s commentary they could believe.
‘In the old myths, they were called the Fomorii. Shape-shifting fuckers. The Tuatha De Danann defeated them thousands of years ago, thought they’d driven them off for good. But they came back with their leader, Balor. The God of Death.’
‘And this Balor is part of the bigger thing … the Void?’ Shavi said.
‘Look, a lot of this stuff goes right over my head. The way I see it, there’s an ongoing battle between two sides — Life and Anti-Life, light and dark, whatever. It shifts back and forth all the time, but Anti-Life has the upper hand because it decided the way the world should be, and what all the rules were, right back at the start. But then we came along … us …’ Veitch said, bemused, ‘… and we started to tip the balance the other way. We defeated the Fomorii, we destroyed Balor — it could have been a new Golden Age-’
‘So what happened?’ Laura said.
‘Human nature.’ Veitch toyed with the knife he had pulled out of Laura. ‘Church and me were both in love with Ruth. She couldn’t decide between the two of us. So right at the point when we’d won, Church thought he’d get rid of the competition. He killed me and Balor at the same time. Everything got fucked up by Balor’s death … time and space and all that shit … and Church ended up getting thrown back in time two thousand years or so.’
‘You’re not looking too bad for a dead man,’ Laura sneered.
‘I got better.’
‘That was handy.’
He looked from Laura to Shavi. ‘You’d be surprised how often it happens. I was given a second chance-’
By the Void,’ Shavi said.
‘What the five of us did shook things up. It got us noticed, and not in a good way. The Void couldn’t have us turning the world over to Life so it came back — or part of it did — and it made sure that the world stayed the way it was supposed to be. There was another group of Brothers and Sisters of Dragons after us, and the Void put paid to them.’
‘And it wiped our memories so we would not fight back,’ Shavi said.
‘It didn’t just make you forget — it changed everything. It can do that. Like I said, all the stuff outside the window is just scenery. And the Void moved it all around-’
‘To create the illusion,’ Shavi finished. ‘No one is aware of the possibilities any more. There is no hope. No wonder. This is simply the way things are meant to be, so we have to make the best of it. And the Blue Fire drains away because the people who kept it alive do not believe in anything any longer. A dead world-’
‘And you helped this happen?’ Laura said in disbelief.
‘Blame Church. He made sure I couldn’t stay on the other side.’ Veitch wouldn’t meet their eyes. He gripped the knife tightly.
‘So now you’re getting your revenge. Feel good?’ Laura’s eyes blazed.
‘Yeah, it does.’ Veitch stared back unflinchingly.
‘What about us?’ Shavi said in an attempt to calm the rising tension. ‘You said we used to be friends. Are you going to kill us, too?’
Veitch gnawed on a knuckle. ‘Ruth and Church are out of the picture. The Brothers and Sisters of Dragons who came after you can’t remember a thing about who they are. But you know how things can be changed, so you’re a threat. I know what you’re like … the two of you could still screw everything up. That’s not going to be allowed.’ He weighed the knife in the palm of his hand. ‘I’m sorry, mate, I really am, but I haven’t got a choice.’
4
The constant churning of the spiders all around him was becoming a distant memory. Church was falling backwards down a long, dark tunnel, occasionally punctuated by starbursts of Blue Fire. It was a place of refuge, and he knew the deeper he could go the more he could escape the thinking and the feeling and the guilt and the sorrow.
Falling, falling, and then standing. He’d done it, broken the shackles, got away scot-free, and wherever his mind was telling him he was, it was better than where he had been before.
Everywhere was dark. He wandered around for an age, listening to distant voices come and go, louder and softer, like the sound of the blood in his head. He became aware of rock underfoot, a cavern of some kind. And then, across the dark, he glimpsed himself, although this was a younger Church, clean-shaven, shorter hair, face so surprisingly innocent and free of worry that he could barely remember being that way.
He convinced himself that he’d made his way to his own past, and he was taken by the urge to warn himself away from all the terrible things that lay ahead, that at the very least he could make sure he could take the one step that would change his current predicament.
His past self was staring at him, confused.
‘Is this it? Is this the right time?’ the modern Church said to his past-self. ‘You have to listen to me. This is a warning.’ He looked around, confused himself. ‘Is this the right place? Am I too late?’
‘Tell me what you have to say,’ his past-self said.
‘When you’re in Otherworld and they call, heed it right away. They’re going to bring him back. They’re-’
‘Calm down. You’re babbling,’ his past-self yelled. ‘Who is going to bring who back?’
Church had the unnerving sensation of a presence behind him. An irrational fear gripped him. In panic, he yelled, ‘Too late!’
And then he was running from himself and into the dark.
5
Church didn’t know how long it took for the blind panic to fade, but eventually he realised he could see a faint blue light ahead. He continued to run towards it until he saw it was a lantern with a blue flame flickering inside.
‘The Wayfinder guides your path as ever, Brother of Dragons.’ The lantern was being held aloft by a giant at least eight feet tall, with a thick beard and glowering eyes beneath overhanging brows. He wore a shift made of sackcloth fastened with a leather belt.
‘Who are you?’ Church asked.
‘I am the Caretaker. I keep a light burning in the darkest night. I serve all who come to me, whether their hearts are filled with hope or tainted by despair.’
‘Do you know me?’
‘We all know you, Brother of Dragons.’ The Caretaker stepped to one side and motioned for Church to pass by. Beyond was an entrance to a cave.
Inside a cauldron bubbled over a small fire. Two figures stood around it. One was a man in old, tattered clothes, one hand clutching a long staff that had been subtly worked into a particular shape. His grey hair formed a wild halo around his head. Beside him was a woman who could have been his sister. She was painfully thin and wore a long black dress stained with treebark green and white dust. Her skin was almost grey and barely hung on her bones. Her hair was also grey and wild. But her face was smeared black with dirt or grease so that her grey eyes stared out of it with terrifying intensity.
Church realised he had seen her before, when he lay close to death on the journey to Boskawen-Un. She had come to him in what he had thought was a dream or hallucination, while Etain and the others talked nearby.
While the Caretaker felt benign, these two unsettled him. He felt they would turn on him at any moment if he said the wrong thing.
‘Draw closer.’ The woman beckoned, cackling.
‘Who are you?’ Church asked. ‘Gods, like the Tuatha De Danann?’
‘We are intermediaries,’ the Caretaker said. ‘A conduit to higher powers.’
‘What higher powers?’ Church asked.
The wild-haired man looked as if he was about to fly into a rage, and Church fell silent.