Destroyer of Worlds

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Destroyer of Worlds Page 6

by Mark Chadbourn


  ‘There are worse things ahead, I fear.’

  ‘Is that a Brother of Dragons I spy?’

  ‘Leave him alone,’ Lugh said sharply. ‘He is an ally.’

  The queen snorted contemptuously.

  ‘More than an ally,’ Lugh continued. ‘He may well be our saviour, and he has more to concern him than being idle sport for you. The season has turned, sister, and Fragile Creatures have joined our kind at the high table. You must adapt to this new arrangement.’

  The queen batted a dismissive hand. ‘See also what has been wrought upon our kind.’

  She marched to a covered wagon surrounded by heavily armed guards who kept the curious at bay. Haughtily, the queen snatched back the cover to reveal six of her guards writhing in indescribable pain. Their bodies had been transformed by some disease, sprouting scales, horns, patches of exposed bone and weeping sores.

  ‘What could do this to our kind?’ the queen asked.

  ‘Rangda.’

  Behind them stood a young man of about twenty, tall and thin, dressed in a green, crushed velvet suit with a hat, a cane and sunglasses. The whiff of the sixties lay heavily on him.

  ‘What can you tell us, Doctor Jay?’ Mallory asked.

  ‘We had a run-in with her in Haight-Ashbury in sixty-seven.’ The Doctor tapped the brim of his hat with his cane to emphasise his words. ‘The demon-queen of Bali, they call her. She leads an army of evil witches and spreads plague wherever she goes. The Enemy sends her out to spread chaos.’ He peered into the back of the wagon. ‘There’s nothing you can do for them. It’s just a matter of time.’

  Refusing to believe, the queen raged impotently. Mallory, Decebalus and Doctor Jay left Lugh trying to calm her and returned to the Doctor’s chaotic apartment in the palace. It was packed to the brim with magickal items, crystals, boxes and parchments, potions, candles and skulls, all moved from Math’s tower before the sorcerer had departed with Hunter. The curtains were drawn and it was too hot and claustrophobic.

  Jerzy moved studiously around the room, reading from several volumes as he mixed a concoction, his bone-white skin and rictus grin glowing spectrally in the half-light. When they entered, he gambolled over and danced around them like a child. Mallory had a sense of a second Jerzy behind the fool he had been made into by Niamh and the Court of the Final Word: secret, real, serious and hidden, with his own agenda.

  ‘Are you ready to try again, good friend?’ Jerzy said to Doctor Jay.

  ‘We’ll give it a rest for a while, Mister Mocker. I need to refuel my mojo, if you know what I mean.’ The Doctor flopped wearily into a large chair and put his head back. He kept his sunglasses on despite the gloom.

  ‘Still no success?’ Mallory prompted.

  ‘Man, if you only knew what I’d achieved here,’ the Doctor replied.

  ‘Wonders and miracles! It’s this place . . . the Blue Fire . . . all stirred up together. I’m supercharged!’ He sat cross-legged. ‘But yeah, you’re right - not the wonders and miracles we need.’

  Decebalus growled an epithet. ‘You cannot contact the king? Church?’ ‘I can’t contact Earth, man. It’s like it’s closed off, all the shutters pulled down. The Void’s made sure no one’s getting in or out of our home, at least not yet. And no information’s getting through, either.’

  ‘We don’t even know if Church or the others are still alive,’ Mallory said.

  ‘Good friend, Jack Giant-Killer will not be defeated. He will be with us soon,’ Jerzy said.

  ‘Is that a platitude, or a snippet of information from your mysterious friends and allies?’ Mallory asked suspiciously. ‘Those higher powers you’re secretly working for?’

  Jerzy looked hurt.

  ‘Sorry. I’m an idiot. Ignore me.’ Mallory rested one hand on his sword, Llyrwyn. In times of stress, it calmed him, whispering mysteriously through the Pendragon Spirit they shared. ‘You think there’s hope for Church?’ he asked the Doctor. ‘Because if he doesn’t turn up with the Two Keys, there’s no hope for us, even if by some miracle we do locate the Extinction Shears.’

  Doctor Jay shrugged. ‘I’ve been reading, researching, talking to people out in the city. All the races out there have their own myths about these times. The End of the World myth, you know? They’re all in code, like all stories, but with the information we’ve got now, you can read them in the right way. It’s all the same story, just told with different emphasis. The battle between two great kingdoms. The light and the dark in the Tuatha Dé Danaan version. The fight between a spider and a snake that destroyed the universe, for Jerzy’s people.’

  ‘The Christians talk of the Apocalypse . . . and the Antichrist,’ Decebalus mused.

  The Doctor nodded. ‘It’s all over our world too. Prophecies . . . hints . . . Who is the Antichrist, or is that just another symbol?’

  ‘The Libertarian?’ Mallory suggested.

  ‘Revelation talks of the people of God opposing the Evil, and two prophets called the two witnesses. Is that the Two Keys?’

  ‘I thought Revelation was supposed to refer to some Roman Emperor or something back when the Bible was written?’ Mallory mused.

  Animated, the Doctor fetched more books from the shelves. ‘The patterns, man. They’re everywhere. The true template behind reality. See the patterns and you get what it’s all about. A trip, the biggest trip of all. Numbers are the key, see.’ He giggled. ‘The key. Numbers are the key in music. Music is the key to the universe.’

  Mallory sighed. ‘You’re having a rush, Doctor.’

  ‘Sorry, man, sorry. But it’s the numbers! Science and magic . . . maybe it’s the same thing. The pattern is everywhere. The Aztecs had the Legend of the Five Suns. Five was an important number to them. Each sun was an age, and when a sun died, there was chaos and the gods destroyed the world and started again. We’re on the fifth sun now. The last one. This is the sun of movement, Tonatiu, the Rising Eagle, and when it’s over the world gets torn apart.’

  ‘If that’s a prediction, it doesn’t sound like they’ve got a lot of faith in us,’ Mallory said.

  Doctor Jay hesitated. ‘Maybe we don’t fail. Maybe we cause it.’

  ‘Your brain is addled,’ Decebalus spat.

  ‘The Indian myths are like the Aztec one, in a way. The universe goes through cycles of birth and death and rebirth. The Hindus believe that Vishnu, the Preserver of Order, comes during times of chaos to save humankind. He appears in a different form each time . . . an avatar . . . and he will appear in ten forms before the universe ends.’

  ‘You’re saying that number is significant?’ Mallory asked. ‘Like the number of the last two groups of Brothers and Sisters of Dragons. Except . . . except there are only nine . . .’ He rubbed his forehead where the familiar painful emptiness had risen again.

  ‘Don’t know, man. But Vishnu has appeared in nine of his forms already. For the tenth, he will come as a man riding on a horse, to destroy the Earth.’

  They considered this for a moment. Sensing a darkening mood, Doctor Jay moved on. ‘The Norse had their myths of Ragnarok, the end of gods and humans, when the world is destroyed after a final battle. There’s more, from all over the world, but I think you get the picture.’

  Decebalus snorted. ‘Patterns can be broken. And stories are like the gods. They tell you one thing but mean another. The truth is slippery.’

  A sudden crash made them all jump. Jerzy had pitched forwards, sending phials and bottles flying. Spasming on the floor, his eyes rolled back so that only the whites were visible. Mallory, Decebalus and the Doctor struggled to stop him hurting himself.

  ‘A seizure?’ Mallory said as Jerzy finally grew still.

  ‘The Court of the Final Word changed him so much, it’s impossible to tell what’s going on inside him,’ Doctor Jay said.

  Jerzy remained unresponsive. But as Mallory carried him to the bed in the adjoining quarters, a low-pitched hum emanated from the Mocker, growing more intense by the second until it set all their teet
h on edge.

  ‘What the hell’s that?’ Mallory reeled away from the bed.

  Doctor Jay clamped his hands over his ears. ‘Strange days are upon us, man. It sounds like some weird radio signal.’

  All attempts to revive Jerzy failed. A silvery substance, like mercury, emerged from his tear ducts and slid across the surface of his eyes until they were like mirrors, reflecting the troubled faces of Mallory, Decebalus and Doctor Jay.

  ‘Get all the court’s medics together,’ Mallory said. ‘I want to know what’s happening to him, why it’s happening now and what it means.’

  5

  With a screech of metal and a billowing cloud of hissing steam, the Last Train juddered to a halt at the gates of the Court of the Soaring Spirit.

  ‘You ready to face all those bastards again?’ Leaning on the window, Veitch watched the massive obsidian gates creak slowly open as puzzled guards emerged, weapons drawn, to investigate the arrival.

  ‘We’re on the same side now,’ Church replied. ‘This war is going to make a lot of difficult allies.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’ Veitch flashed a knowing glance at Church. ‘Common aims, right?’

  ‘Whatever’s happened, you’re one of us, Ryan. You always were and you always will be.’

  Veitch grunted noncommittally, but the brief glance he exchanged with Laura as she made her way along the carriage ahead of Ruth and Shavi spoke clearly of the problems ahead.

  ‘Congratulations, dude,’ she said. ‘You finished a whole train journey without killing one of us.’

  ‘Leave him alone,’ Ruth snapped.

  ‘Oh, yeah, you would say that. Is there a man around here you haven’t tapped?’

  Her cheeks flushing, Ruth’s eyes flashed angrily. Shavi stepped in with a gentle hand on her arm. ‘It’s just Laura,’ he said softly.

  Amidst an odour of loam and a sound like dry insect casings rattling, Ahken arrived, his obsequiousness undiminished.

  ‘Your journey on the Last Train is over,’ he said, ‘and it is time to make payment.’ As he spoke, Tom, Crowther and the others made their way into the carriage.

  ‘What’s the price?’ Church asked.

  ‘More than you can bear!’ Tom raced up, thrusting himself between Church and Ahken.

  ‘Most peoples of the Far Lands and the Fixed Lands only ride the Last Train once, and their destination is always the same,’ Ahken continued with an unsettling edge to his voice. ‘Out of deference, I have allowed the Seelie Court free passage on their flight back to their homeland. They will join me again shortly. But you, Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, have journeyed on the Last Train three times, and three times is the limit.’

  Outside the window, on the dusty approach to the city, the members of the Seelie Court waited curiously for the other passengers to join them. Instinctively, Church felt that the train had already started moving imperceptibly, gradually building speed.

  ‘You must let them alight,’ Tom insisted. ‘You allowed them passage from the Fixed Lands—’

  ‘The Last Train was summoned by blood,’ Ahken said.

  ‘You cannot take them to the Final Destination! The survival of everything depends on them!’

  As Ahken’s smile broadened, Church had the uneasy feeling that something was squirming just beneath his skin. ‘Your kind has little respect for the eternal patterns of Existence and the great inviolable rules. That one—’ Ahken pointed to Veitch ‘—transgressed the ultimate law when he travelled to the Grim Lands to bring back this one.’ Ahken indicated Shavi. ‘That has not been forgotten. Indeed, the current crisis that grips all the lands is a direct result of that action. You are architects of this suffering.’

  Church and Veitch stepped forwards, hands on their swords. Tom held them back. ‘Don’t,’ he said quietly. ‘You can’t hurt it. What you see is not what is.’

  ‘You were our only chance to escape Earth when the spiders came,’ Church said. ‘We had no choice but to call you.’

  ‘Every action has repercussions, seen and unforeseen. You must take responsibility for them.’

  ‘Wait,’ Tom said. ‘They are too important for their lives to be forfeit—’

  ‘No one is too important.’ There was a crack like thunder to Ahken’s voice.

  ‘Take me in lieu,’ Tom pressed.

  ‘I have you anyway, True Thomas. You knew the price asked the last time you travelled with me. But you have traded away your future, and now you are worthless to me.’

  Recognising that Ahken would not back down, Church part-drew Caledfwlch and the Blue Fire fizzed and crackled around him. The gravity surrounding Ahken grew by the moment, and Church was now in no doubt as to whom he represented. They could not defeat such a force.

  ‘Quick, now! Be swift, like mercury, like the wind!’ The voice rose up around them before Church caught a glimpse of a figure slipping low and lithe along the carriage, more mischievous grin and sizzling eyes than substance.

  At the same time, Ahken was altering into something that filled Church with dread. Clasped hands became hooked claws and the smell of the grave intensified, but Church only had an instant to glimpse it, for there was a flash of blinding light and then utter darkness.

  The carriage door opened with a sound like escaping steam, and Church instinctively propelled those nearest to him out into the bright daylight. As he sprawled in the dust, he saw the others urged unceremoniously out around him, before a flash of brown sealskin bolted out to pause close by his ear. He looked deeply into yellow eyes and saw world upon world before their colour changed.

  ‘Grasped from the jaws of dark disaster. You, merry wanderer, are the Puck’s prime spark. Enjoy your good fortune, happy fool and lover, for falling so neatly in my purview.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Church said, still shaken by what he had sensed in the carriage.

  ‘No, thank you, Brother of Dragons. It serves me that you serve me, but the Puck cannot always be on hand to pluck you from the fire. The end can only be achieved by your own devices, and perhaps not even then. That is the way of the weft and the weave, and we are all at its mercy, even the Oldest Things in the Land.’

  In the space between thoughts, the Puck was gone. He had saved and guided them several times, but Church feared he was shepherding them towards an uncertain future that would benefit only the Puck.

  With a belch of steam, the Last Train raced away. Amidst the billowing cloud and the rising dust, Church had the impression that it wasn’t a train at all, but a long black insect scurrying across the land, the roar of its wheels an angry cry that promised retribution another day.

  ‘I saw the Puck, too,’ Shavi said, helping Church to his feet. ‘He plays a long game, but at this moment I am glad he has chosen to act as our protector.’

  ‘Until the time arises when he needs to sacrifice us to achieve his ends,’ Church said. ‘We’re always pawns and I’m sick of it.’

  The now-excited guards hastily ushered the Seelie Court through the gates, while others rushed to collect Church and the others. To one side, Etain and the other Brothers and Sisters of Spiders stood, stiff and isolated by death and their former allegiance. Church hadn’t even realised they were on the train.

  He tore his attention from Ruth wiping the dust from Veitch’s cheek and turned to Tom. ‘What did Ahken mean, that you’ve traded away your future?’

  ‘Stop asking fool questions!’ Tom adjusted his glasses in a manner that Church had come to recognise as defensive.

  ‘You can’t keep secrets from me any more, Tom.’

  ‘I can do what I damn well like. I should be dead by rights, and you’ve made my life a misery by bringing me back. I’ve got no purpose here now. So don’t you start telling me I need to speak my mind to you. It’s you that owes me to keep your nose out of my business. It’s the least you can do for the pain you’ve caused.’

  Church winced, and Tom instantly appeared to regret his words. ‘There’s a more pressing matter,’ he said. ‘On the tra
in, I encountered a boy who, I’m told, is dead. He said his name was Carlton, and he told me something you ought to consider.’

  Church saw that Tom’s hand was trembling. He tucked it quickly in his jacket pocket.

  ‘He said, in the battle ahead there are people we can trust and people we can’t.’

  ‘You believe him?’

  ‘Who knows what to believe in this madhouse? But if I were you, I’d keep a close eye on those around you. And the ones at your back.’

  6

  The streets of the Court of the Soaring Spirit were filled with a cheering throng that left the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons baffled and embarrassed by the obvious adulation they were receiving. Many of the disparate races of T’ir n’a n’Og were represented, from the Tuatha Dé Danaan, whose calls had an uneasy edge of desperation, to animals that walked and talked like men, squat, dour mountain folk, bat-winged, sable-skinned people from the Forest of the Night, short, tall, fat, thin, bizarrely attired.

 

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