Always Forever taom-3

by Mark Chadbourn

  Baccharus was accompanied by nine other gods. They all looked stunned, as if they'd taken a detour into a world they never dreamed existed. Baccharus, however, had best overcome the blow and was now leading the group; they obeyed him blindly, glad that someone else was taking the responsibility.

  The road led on to Kensington High Street. It was snarled with discarded cars, trucks and a burnt-out bus, forcing them to ride on the pavement. Names from another age reached out to them: Smith's, Boots, Barker's department store.

  The smoke was thicker towards the eastern end of the high street. Kensington Palace was still burning, its roof collapsed, the walls blackened and broken. The huge security gates that had closed off the road leading to the palace had been torn down and lay mangled and barely recognisable in the street.

  "I wonder what happened to the Royal Family," Shavi mused as they passed.

  "Those sort of people always have a bolt-hole. The Great and the Good." The contempt in Laura's voice was heavy. "The secret service probably spirited them off to a cushy estate in Scotland long before all this came to a head. And I bet they never told any of the little people that Armageddon was coming to their doorsteps."

  Ahead of them the green expanse of Kensington Gardens stretched out towards Hyde Park, silent and eerie in the drifting smoke. Baccharus reined in his horse uneasily and scanned the stark trees towards the Serpentine. "Some of my people used to come here on summer evenings," he said. "They would steal children and take them back to the Far Lands. Some would stay, some would be returned."

  Shavi closed his eyes, letting himself read the atmosphere. "It is a liminal zone," he said. "Green space in an open city. The boundary between here and T'ir n'a n'Og is fluid."

  "I tripped here once," Laura said. "It was summer. Everything was yellow and green. Me and a friend dropped a tab up near Temple Lodge, then went out on a boat on the lake. Just drifting along. It was… peaceful." The memory jarred with the landscape that now lay before her. She shivered. "I don't think we should go in there."

  Behind them the sound of pitched battle grew more intense. Someone was screaming, high-pitched and reedy, so despairing they all wanted to cover their ears. Another explosion sent a booming blast of pressure over them.

  Shavi noticed shapes moving in the doorways across the street. Fomorii were emerging slowly. They looked wary, as if they knew of the sword even though they had had no contact with the other group.

  Laura fought back another wave of nausea when she looked at them. "God, this place is disgusting! It's infested." She turned to Shavi. "Are you up to using that super-cool sword again?"

  He shook his head. "It is powered by the spirit. It will take a while to bring my energy levels back up."

  Baccharus pointed along Kensington Road towards Knightsbridge. "The Night Walkers are attempting to cut us off. Moving across the road ahead, coming up behind us."

  "Then we go across the park," Shavi said. "Perhaps lose them in the smoke. We cannot afford to move so slowly."

  They spurred their horses and headed into the disquieting open space of Kensington Gardens.

  The smoke was even thicker there, blowing in from the palace, and from another large fire burning somewhere nearby. They kept their scarves tied tightly across their mouths, but it was still choking them; their eyes reared so much it was often hard to see the way ahead.

  It was Shavi who first recognised they were no longer alone. His ears were attuned to the shifting moods of nature and he felt the pressure drop rapidly. It was followed by rapid footsteps padding in the grass all around, moving back and forth. Although the smoke was too dense to see what was there, he had the unmistakable feeling that it was hunting.

  "Be on your guard," he said quietly.

  And then they all could hear the running feet, sometimes ahead, sometimes behind. They reminded Laura of a group of preschool children at play. There was no other sound; not the shrieks of Fomorii, no voices at all.

  Baccharus motioned for the other Tuatha De Danann to bring their horses close together. They urged their steeds to step lightly, but every now and then the hooves would hit a stone with a clatter.

  "What are they?" Laura whispered.

  Shavi shook his head. The footsteps moved closer, as if their owners had begun to get their bearings. The Tuatha De Danann reined their horses to a stop and drew their swords.

  The throat-rending, bloodthirsty cry behind them made Laura almost leap from her saddle. The Tuatha De Danann whirled ready to lash out, but it was too late. One of them was torn from his horse and thrown to the ground, where a squat figure about five feet tall stooped over it, its muscular arms rending and tearing with a frantic clawing motion. The agonised screams of the god were sickening, but the sheer brutality of the attack froze them in place.

  Laura was nauseated to see the figure was wearing a hat made out of human body parts-she thought she saw half a face there-and its tangled, black hair was matted with dried blood. It turned and bellowed triumphantly. Its bloodstained teeth were large and broken, its features monstrous, but its skin was green and scaled in part. Laura felt a wash of cold.

  Another launched itself from the smoke towards one of the Tuatha lle Danann. Its huge hands were grasping with long, jagged nails as it roared ferociously. The god reacted quickly, swinging his sword down to split the beast's head open. It fell to the ground, twitching and vomiting.

  "What are they?" she gasped.

  "You were ill in the van when they attacked before," Shavi said. "In the Lake District. They are called Redcaps. Tom said their natural enemy is man."

  "Mollecht's favourite brood," Baccharus said, with something approaching contempt.

  Others emerged from the smoke-Laura counted eight of them-and these were carrying short swords that were chipped and soiled. For the first time they saw Shavi and Laura, and the transformation that came over them was terrifying to see: savage before, they were now Berserker, ignoring the Tuatha lle Danann to drive towards the two humans.

  Baccharus barked an order in his natural alien language and the Tuatha lle Danann formed a barrier between Shavi and Laura and the attacking Redcaps. Although the gods hacked and slashed in a constant blur of weaponry it did little to repel the ferocity of their attack. While they came at the gods, they were also continually circling to find a route through the defences to the two humans. Laura's heart beat even faster when she realised the Redcaps never took their eyes off her or Shavi for an instant; the look in those eyes was ravenous hunger.

  The assaults continued relentlessly for fifteen minutes until it became obvious even the Tuatha De Danann would soon be worn down. One of the gods eventually made a slight error in his parrying that was punished instantly. A Redcap dragged the sword from his hand, oblivious to the deep gashes it was cutting in the creature's fingers, while the one closest to it dived in and ripped out the god's neck with its talons. He had been torn savagely limb from limb before he hit the ground.

  An instant later the air was filled with the fluttering of golden moths. The rest of the Tuatha lle Danann saw them and froze, their faces registering unspeakable dread. The Redcaps sensed their moment and prepared to move.

  "This is insanity," Shavi hissed, his guilt over the dead god almost painful. He turned to Laura. "Follow me." He dug his spurs sharply into his horse's flank and it shot off in the direction of the Serpentine. Laura was behind him in an instant.

  Their escape stirred the Tuatha lle Danann, who were soon following in their tracks. Shavi glanced over his shoulder and was shocked to see how fast the Redcaps were moving in pursuit. Although they were only on foot, their leg muscles were unbelievably powerful. They weaved around trees and rubbish bins without slowing their speed at all, and were soon passing the Tuatha De Danann, who were urging on their terrified horses even more.

  Laura noticed the Redcaps approach too. "Jesus, what powers those things?"

  "Hunger. And hatred."

  "Any idea where we're going now?"

  "We
could attempt to outrun them. Or we could find a place that will offer us sanctuary, somewhere to rest and lick our wounds."

  "In this place?" She laughed mockingly. "Maybe we can take in some sights while we're at it."

  The smoke rolled across the surface of the Serpentine where the abandoned boats bobbed and drifted. Shavi pressed on along Rotten Row until Hyde Park Corner came into view. The roundabout was choked with dead traffic, much of it blackened and twisted in the aftermath of a flash fire that had raged through the area. It still smelled of charred oil and singed plastic.

  "They're closing," Laura gasped as she sent her horse along the pavement until they found a space to get through the traffic to Constitution Hill. The high brick wall of Buckingham Palace lay to their right.

  Their manoeuvres had slowed them considerably, while the Redcaps merely powered over the heaps of blackened metal.

  "Shavi," Laura said, "this is the time for your big idea. You have got one, haven't you?" The jungle cat-snarling of the Redcaps was now close behind.

  Shavi guided his horse in close to Laura until there were barely two inches between them as they pounded down the centre of the street. With his left hand gripping the reins, he fumbled with his right for the twin-bladed sword, then held it out for Laura.

  "What am I supposed to do with that?"

  "It is easy to operate."

  "Get lost. You're the one with the big soul-charge. The only spirit I've got is vodka and Red Bull."

  "Take it."

  Uncomfortably she accepted the sword and immediately thumbed the jewel in the hilt. The Blue Fire began to build. "Now tell me how I ride while facing backwards."

  "Have you never seen Hopalong Cassidy?"

  "Uh, no."

  "The Lone Ranger?"

  "Get real."

  "I am sure you will pick it up."

  Laura swore at him violently, then half-spun round in her saddle. The yell erupted from her lips unbidden. Three Redcaps were so close behind they could almost touch the horse's tail. She could smell the rotting-meat reek of their breath. When they saw her face, their eyes flared hungrily with a red light.

  One of them threw itself forward. The charge leapt from the sword like a missile, tearing through the Redcap's face in a blue blast. When her eyes cleared, all three creatures were headless, still twitching on the road as their bodies struggled to catch up with the news. The other Redcaps had stopped and were blinking stupidly at this strange development.

  "That'll teach them to wear hats out of season," Laura said weakly. This time it was Shavi's turn to catch the sword and steady her with the other hand as she threatened to slip from the saddle. "Shit, I feel like I'm coming off a six-day bender. Is this how it was for you?"

  "I feel a little better now, but it will take a while to recover completely."

  Baccharus rode up and then past them, urging them on. "Come! They will be on you again in a moment!"

  Laura somehow managed to get her horse moving again before resting against its neck, hoping it would find the right direction by itself. Shavi once again took the lead. But they had barely got out into the wide open space surrounding the Queen Victoria Memorial in front of Buckingham Palace when a harpoon trailing fire tore through the air to impale one of the Tuatha De Danann, who fell from his horse.

  Fomorii were swarming over the roof of Buckingham Palace, where they had sited an odd weapon that looked like a cross between a mediaeval siege machine and a piece of WWII artillery. Five Fomorii were loading it with another harpoon that mysteriously burst into flame the moment it was in place.

  "They're changing the guard at Buckingham Palace," Laura said ironically.

  The harpoon rocketed into the Queen Victoria Memorial, which exploded in chunks of stone.

  "They are slowly picking us off." Shavi's face had grown dark with anger. "We must not allow this."

  Laura felt a tingle run down her spine when she saw the Tuatha De Danann were waiting on the two of them for orders. "This is about as weird as it gets," she muttered.

  When she looked back, Shavi had his head bowed and his hands over his face, one of the rituals he regularly used when he was meditating.

  "Quickly," Baccharus insisted. "The Redcaps will be coming."

  When Shavi looked up, Laura thought she saw blue sparks leap from his eyes. "Church did a good job," he said, moving his horse on.

  "What do you mean?"

  "The Blue Fire is all around now. So easy to see, I barely need any concentration."

  Almost the instant he said the words, Laura realised she could see it too: in some areas just thin capillaries of sapphire, in others like a raging current beneath the ground, as if the road surface was made of glass.

  "Trippy! So this is what it means…" Her words trailed off, unable to capture the depth of what she was feeling.

  "Then this city is not dead to us," Shavi said. "Church suggested the force would be a weakening power for the Fomorii. They hate it, and what it represents. And here we can see the lines leading to the most potent sources."

  "Come, then." Baccharus's voice was strained, his eyes darting all around.

  "What is it?" Shavi followed his gaze, but could see nothing.

  "Can you not feel it?"

  The moment the words were uttered, he could. Against the background of rising anxiety like a deep bass rumble, something unpleasant was stirring. The roar of the Redcaps bouncing off the buildings disturbed Shavi before he had time to analyse the sensation, and then the feral creatures surged into view with renewed vigour.

  Baccharus, Shavi and Laura spurred their horses, with the other Tuatha De Danann following a split second later. Shavi, who had his perception fixed on the flow of the Blue Fire, took the lead.

  The unbearable speed of the Redcaps was the least of their worries. They had barely broken into the once-serene environment of St. James's Park when Shavi realised what it was he had sensed. When the smoke and icy mist cleared to present a view of the sprawling city, he had the unnerving impression that it was altering its shape like a Night Walker. The edges of the stately buildings along Whitehall, of the sedate and cultured pale stone blocks of The Mall, of those further away in the West End, were continually moving, like some bad, speeded-up animation. When he realised what it was, his blood, already chilled by where he was and what he had seen, became even colder.

  Thousand upon thousand of Fomorii were emerging from their hiding places, moving out into the city, across rooftops, down walls; all the sickening, alien activity of a disturbed anthill. The speed of their waking suggested some call must have gone out on a level only those hideous creatures could understand.

  "They're coming for us." Laura's voice was drained of all life.

  Behind them, the ferocious roaring of the Redcaps drew nearer. "No way back." Shavi spurred the horse on faster. "Only forward."

  "This is what they wanted," Laura said dismally, her words almost drowned out by the thunder of the hooves. "To separate us. To get us into a place where there wasn't the slightest chance we could fight back." She gulped in a mouthful of air to stifle the rising emotion. Then: "Do you think they've got the others?"

  Shavi wasn't listening. The sea of black, roiling bodies moved in rapidly on either side; soon they would be submerged in the deluge. Dread formed a lump in his throat. Always hope, he told himself, a calming mantra repeated over and over. Focus on the source of the hope, not the source of the fear. Gradually the black, oppressive world faded away into the background until all he could see were the streams of brilliant blue. And the deepest, fastest and most brilliant of them blazed a channel between the enclosing darkness. Shavi guided his horse on to it and prayed.

  The scorched grass, blackened trees and thick layer of grey ash that blanketed St. James's Park passed in a blur. The jolt of hooves on hard road. Great George Street. Then the wide open space of Parliament Square, the statue of the great war leader Churchill reduced to a broken stump. Westminster Bridge shattered, ending after only a few
yards in broken concrete and twisted iron girders. The Houses of Parliament seething, across the roof, through the smashed windows, bubbling out towards them. The Fomorii that had the ability to fly on leathery bat wings swarmed across the Thames like angry wasps.

  "All around!" Laura yelled. "This is it!"

  The Fomorii surged down Whitehall and Millbank into Parliament Square, black, gleaming bodies as far as the eye could see. Shavi guided his horse round until the dark, majestic bulk of Westminster Abbey rose up in front of them.

  "There," he said.

  They raced their horses to the western entrance, where Shavi saw the Blue Fire swirling into a coruscating pillar of energy, lighting up the ornate columned front with its imposing twin towers. Three of the Tuatha De Danann jumped down to try the handles before putting their shoulders to the heavy oaken doors without budging them in the slightest.

  "Locked," one of the guards said. Panic bloomed in his face. The Square was completely obscured now; the relentless torrent was almost upon them.

  "Who's there?" The voice was timorous, broken.

  Shavi leapt from his horse and threw himself at the door. "Let us in! We need sanctuary!"

  There was one hanging moment when they feared whoever was within had left them to die, but then came the sound of heavy bolts being drawn.

  The Redcaps were ahead of the driving wall of Fomorii, jumping and leaping like crazed tigers. One of the Tuatha De Danann guards attempted to fend them off to give the others more time. They fell on him in a frenzy.

  The door swung open and a voice shouted, "Quick!"

  Shavi led them in, horses and all, and then the doors slammed shut with a sound like the tolling of a bell.

  Within the Abbey there was an abiding stillness. The thick stone walls muffled the noise of the terrible force without, but all Shavi was aware of was the thunder of the blood in his brain. The entire building was filled with the iron tang of the Blue Fire, too potent, he was sure, for the Fomorii to attempt to enter. Yet as he came to terms with the amazing fact that they were safe, he gradually took in his surroundings and was overcome with surprise.