Destroyer of Worlds

4

'We are not safe! She comes!' Doubled-up, Caitlin clutched at the wall, the crackling, ancient voice of Brigid echoing from her young mouth.

Every switch in persona always caught Mallory off-guard. Throughout the journey from the parting of ways, he had been dealing with the cold, brutal efficiency of the Morrigan, who gave little response to his attempts at warmth and friendship. 'Who is coming?' he asked.

Dazed, Caitlin shook her head. 'I… I don't know. Brigid is scared. She's hiding… so are the others.' She shook her head again and her eyes darkened. The Morrigan looked back at Mallory. 'Move quickly,' she said. 'We need to find a defensible position.'

Mallory sighed with frustration. 'Any chance you could stay with one personality for more than three seconds?'

He drew his sword. The sound of many running feet coming their way was already clear. Instinctively, a protective hand went to the bag containing the Extinction Shears.

They were in a section of the Fortress that appeared to be constructed entirely of the spoiled meat, gloomy and foul-smelling, the floor spongy underfoot. Nowhere to hide.

Snatching her axe from her back, Caitlin ran along the corridor. When the Morrigan was riding her, Mallory had difficulty keeping up; she was stronger, faster, her reactions more finely tuned, and she was more savage. The best person to have at your side in a fight, but Mallory valued the companionship of his friend more. The Caitlin he knew always reminded him of the real reason they were fighting; she kept him going when things became too bleak.

The corridor came to a dead end at a large doorway leading onto a stone and metal balcony. Beneath them, the Fortress stretched out for mile upon mile, an insane jumble of forums, towers, grand halls, industrial-scale factories, obelisks, barracks and many other structures Mallory couldn't identify. The sky was scarlet and black from the fires blazing everywhere, the air chokingly acrid. Creatures that resembled pterodactyls but with skull-like heads swooped overhead, screeching, as they attempted to fend off the Fabulous Beasts. Occasionally, the pall of smoke would shift to reveal the Burning Man looking down. Ten storeys below was an extensive forum paved with white stone, across which the Enemy streamed as they reinforced their defences or scattered to avoid the fiery blasts from above.

'How many of them are here? Millions?' Mallory gaped.

Another balcony could just be reached with a leap across a gulf, and there were other balconies in a line alongside the building they were in. Before he could point this out to Caitlin, she had turned and was swinging her axe at two of the sallow-skinned brutish creatures who had approached silently. Two heads flew off the balcony to the flags far below, but before the bodies had crashed to the soft, sticky floor the corridor was already packed with the rest of the pursuers. In the middle of the throng stood Niamh, the charred half of her face emphasising her fury.

Mallory's blood ran cold. Why did he hate her so much? In the depths of his mind, recollections shifted, ratcheting up his anger, but no solution to the mystery surfaced. Overcome with the desire for revenge, he gripped Llyrwyn and prepared to attack.

'The Brothers and Sisters of Dragons have broken into our home,' Niamh shrieked. 'Sound the alarm! Leave the walls. Here is the real threat!'

'That's not good,' Mallory said. 'We're going to have to cut our way through every bastard in here to get where we're going.'

The air was filled with a deafening siren that sounded like the cry of a tortured animal. Across the Fortress others began in sequence.

Mallory and Caitlin darted forwards at the same time as the hanging wave of their enemies broke. Within seconds, the corridor was filled with furious battle. Without room for delicate swordplay, Mallory hacked and slashed his way through anything that appeared before him, his blade sizzling through flesh, severing limbs and unleashing geysers of sticky black blood.

Despite the frenzy, he was aware of Caitlin beside him, hypnotic in the fluid rhythms of her savage ballet. Sidestepping, ducking and pirouetting at the same time as she whirled the axe in glittering arcs, she removed heads and limbs, crashed through shoulder-blades and tore open guts. Within a few seconds, she had carved a path ahead of Mallory. As two of the creatures fell, she rammed her fingers into the throat of another and ripped it out. Blood soaked her from head to foot. The axe came up instantly into the jaw of another, rending through its skull and out of the top of its head.

Mallory kept his focus on Niamh, standing cold and aloof at the rear of her guard. His blazing hatred was a distraction, and he made two errors of judgment in rapid succession. One of his enemy's short, razor-sharp swords broke through his defences and ripped open his chest. Another caught him a glancing blow on the side of the head and he pitched backwards. Instantly, they were upon him.

Through the crush of bodies, he had a brief glimpse of Caitlin striking out towards Niamh. The cold, unfeeling eyes of the Morrigan flashed briefly upon him, dismissed his plight and moved on, and Mallory realised his last chance had passed.

A sword cut through the top of his ear. Another tore open his temple. But their weight upon him made it difficult for the enemy to strike a killing blow.

Stupid bastards, he thought obliquely.

Just as he had given up hope, the weight pressing on him eased as bodies were torn off, had their throats cut and were discarded.

Caitlin looked down at him with eyes that contained only a hint of the Morrigan. 'I couldn't leave you,' she said with a smile.

As she offered a hand to pull him up, a sword burst out through her left shoulder. A look of startled incomprehension crossed her face. She glanced down at the protruding steel and watched the blood gush.

'Not again!' Mallory raged. He hacked through two more attackers, then grabbed Caitlin as her legs gave way. Her axe slipped from her fingers.

'I'll be all right,' she gasped. 'It missed the artery. Just… look out for yourself.'

Leaning her against the wall where she slid slowly to the floor, Mallory turned his attention to the few remaining attackers. This time his hatred and anger became fuel. He cut through warrior after warrior until only Niamh was left. She showed no fear.

'Pathetic Fragile Creatures. Your time has passed,' she spat. 'You taught me to feel emotion and defiled me for life. You deserve to be eradicated from Existence for the poison you have inflicted on all wondrous things. Love.' Fury filled her. 'Love! See what it has done!' She indicated Caitlin, who was attempting to staunch the flow of blood from her shoulder. 'It has destroyed you too, though you do not realise how or why. It has destroyed me. In the end it will destroy Jack Churchill, the vile and deceitful last chance of humanity.'

With a flourish, she tore a dagger from her belt and attacked. At the last moment, Mallory turned and it tore open his upper arm. Instinctively, he brought Llyrwyn up and with a sizzle of Blue Fire he separated Niamh's head from her shoulders. After a second, the body exploded in a wild flurry of moths, their brilliant gold corrupted by black as they swirled up to the ceiling, and through it. When they had gone, there was nothing left of Niamh.

Mallory had thought his mysterious urge for revenge would be sated, but he only felt deflated, and strangely sad. He hurried back to Caitlin, who gave him a forced smile. She was deathly pale.

Blood streamed from his own wounds, but he was certain that, given time, the Pendragon Spirit would heal him. Of Caitlin, he was not so sure. 'I'm afraid to remove the sword. It might cut the artery,' he said.

'Don't worry. Let's get out of here, find somewhere we can rest a while.' As he lifted her in his arms, she added, 'You can go on ahead with the Extinction Shears, come back for me later when it's all done.'

'No,' he said, denying the practicality of her suggestion. 'You and me, we're a team. We've travelled across Earth, the Far Lands and the Land of the Dead. We're not going our separate ways now.' He added, 'I need you with me.'

'No, you don't.'

'Yes,' he said firmly. 'I do.'

Bracing his foot on the edge of the balcony, he propelled them across the gulf onto the next balcony. Landing hard, they spilled onto the ground. Caitlin cried out as the sword twisted.

'Don't worry,' she added hastily. 'You did great.'

Carrying her into the adjoining corridor, he laid her at the foot of the wall. Her clothes were sodden with blood.

'A good infusion of the Blue Fire could turn you around quick as anything,' Mallory said. He unhooked the Wayfinder from his belt and examined the flame, which flickered even more weakly than the last time he had scrutinised it.

'Doesn't look too good, does it?' Caitlin said. 'For me, or Hal.'

'Don't be so negative.' Hiding his despondence, Mallory wondered where else he could find another source of Blue Fire in that God-forsaken place.

Taking his hand, Caitlin appeared to read his thoughts. 'You mustn't worry about me. There are more important things to deal with right now. I can wait.' She saw his face, and smiled. 'And even if I can't, I'm proud I've played my part. I'm ready, Mallory.'

'No!'

'I've buried my husband and my son. I've seen so many people die. There's been so much suffering, but so much good too. Friendship like I never imagined. And love… Everything that's happened has made me see life and the world in a completely different way. It's not mundane at all. There's so much wonder everywhere, it's just so well hidden. But once you find it… everything really is magickal.' She smiled. 'And then there's you.'

'Will you be quiet?' Mallory tended to her wound, but the blood pumping out around the sword was not diminishing.

'Life was dark after Grant and Liam died, but you made it worthwhile for me again. You've been a good friend, Mallory. My best friend.' She took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

He didn't like the way she appeared to be drawing an end to the story of her life. 'Stop it. The Pendragon Spirit is all about hope, and while your heart's still beating that's what there is. No more talk like that.'

Her smile was sympathetic. She nodded as if she agreed, but that only made him feel worse.

A noise from further along the gloomy corridor disturbed them. As Mallory drew his sword, the shadows retreated from the blue flare, but he still couldn't see who was there.

'No one's going to get past me,' he said. 'You'll be all right.'

The darkness unfolded to reveal a blue light way down the corridor, drawing closer. Puzzled, Mallory held his breath and watched. It was Blue Fire, he was sure of it, but it moved like a person. As it neared, he saw it was indeed a man in a column of the sapphire flames.

'Is that Hal?' he asked quietly. Flicking open the lamp's glass door, he saw only the faintest flame guttering inside.

'It is!' Caitlin said. 'That's why the Wayfinder flame was dying. He was taking on form.'

'Hal!' Mallory called. Sheathing his sword, he ran to greet their friend. 'Come on! Caitlin needs your help!'

The burning blue figure was a beacon of hope in the grim Fortress, but as Mallory skidded to a halt in front of him, the blue flames licked out. The figure beneath didn't resemble the Hal Mallory had seen in the flames, but even as he struggled to recognise the face, the features were growing fluid, changing. A moment later the Hortha stood in front of him.

Before Mallory could react, the Hortha extended an arm and plunged the rapidly growing spike of blackthorn through Mallory's chest. Caitlin's voice was so weak, her scream barely carried. In his shock, Mallory felt nothing. He staggered back a pace as the spike withdrew, and examined the hole in his chest from which blood now pumped.

Dazed, he scrabbled for his sword, but the Hortha rapidly punched another spike into his gut. This time the agony lanced through him and he yelled, fighting to stay conscious. His hand twitched and thrashed, but couldn't reach Llyrwyn.

'And so one of the Great Swords of Existence is consigned to search for a new master,' the Hortha said.

Impaled on the spike, Mallory was lifted off the ground and carried back to Caitlin where he was dumped unceremoniously on the floor, and for a moment he did black out.

When he regained consciousness, the Hortha was crouching beside him and Caitlin was crying weakly. The pool of blood around her had spread too far and her eyelids struggled to stay open. Mallory could tell from the position of his wound, and the speed at which his blood was rapidly joining Caitlin's pool, that he could not recover.

'You had to trick us,' Mallory said. 'I'd have hacked you to pieces and kept hacking and then dumped you over the balcony if I'd known it was you.'

'I know.' The Hortha's crumpled paper face showed no emotion. 'Your resistance has been strong. I needed a small seed of information to get through your defences. And I found it. Your attachment to the genie in the bottle.'

'How did you know about that?'

Uninterested, the Hortha waved his comment away. 'This end was fixed the moment I tasted your blood in the Court of the Soaring Spirit. It was only a matter of when,' the Hortha said. 'You could never outrun me.'

'You can kill me, but you'll never win.' Mallory coughed up a mouthful of blood. 'And I've got a whole bagful of cliches where that came from. Stick around — I'll bore you to death.'

'I have fulfilled my commitment to the Devourer of All Things, and now I will wait until I am called again.' The Hortha took the bag containing the Extinction Shears. Mallory was too weak to prevent him. 'Without these, your cause is lost,' the Hortha continued.

'Never,' Mallory said. 'The others will find another way.'

The Hortha glanced at Caitlin, who was fading in and out of consciousness. 'She is gone too. And now there is only this one to eradicate.' He plucked up the Wayfinder and prepared to snuff out the dying flame.

Blue Fire erupted from the lantern and engulfed the Hortha. A high-pitched wail leaped from him as he staggered backwards, flapping madly to extinguish the flames. But they burned so furiously that Mallory couldn't bear to look at them, and soon the high-pitched wail was consumed too. After a moment, the flames sucked back into the lantern and there was nothing left of the Hortha but a few charred twigs and a pile of grey ashes.

Mallory spat more blood. 'That'll teach you, you bastard. We win. We always win,' he croaked.

Beside him, a shadow was moving across Caitlin's body. It took a glimpse of red eyes in the umbra for him to realise it was the Morrigan vacating her host. The gaze fell on Mallory and for the first time he saw a hint of warmth within them.

'Don't leave her,' Mallory pleaded. He knew. If the Morrigan left the body it was a clear sign that it was too late for Caitlin; the goddess would move on to another mare to ride. 'Please. Stay here. She'll live. Really.'

The shadow hovered for a moment, and then slipped away. Once it had gone, Caitlin stirred and gained a degree of alertness, but she appeared oblivious to Mallory and was staring into the dark as if she could see something. 'The Knight. He's here. And… and…' She gave a warm smile, which lingered for a while, and then her life slipped from her.

Mallory stifled a sob, and reached out for her still hand. His own life was draining from him fast, but he didn't feel sad. It would be good to expunge the one terrible thing he had done in his life, to rest finally, free from the struggle and the worry. His only regret was that he wouldn't be there to help Church and the others win. But he still had the Extinction Shears, and soon one of his Brothers or Sisters would find them and use them as they were intended. He had no doubt about that.

He closed his eyes, listening to the slowing beat of his heart. Steady. Easy. Finally. But after a moment he realised he was no longer alone.

Standing beside him, smiling fondly, was the young boy the others had discussed. The one who had died, but hadn't, who was now one of the Oldest Things in the Land. He searched for the name in his fragmenting mind. Carlton.

'That's right, Mallory,' the boy said.

'You can read my thoughts?' Mallory said weakly.

'Thoughts aren't as ephemeral as you might think.' He laughed.

'That's a big word for a kid.'

'I'm not a child. Never was, really.'

'What are you, then?'

Carlton only smiled.

'So, what? You're an angel? Here to take me by the hand and lead me to the Promised Land? You ought to know I don't believe in God.'

'I know. You don't believe in anything.'

'That's served me well. Why are you here?'

'Because you've reached the end of your story.'

'I know that. I'm ready.'

'And you've accounted for the thing that troubles you the most.'

'How would you know? You're a kid. But thanks anyway.'

Carlton broke into a grin. 'I like you, Mallory. You were always a lot of fun.'

'We've never met before.'

'Oh, we have. Many times.' He waved gently to catch Mallory's fading attention. 'I want to show you something that no living person ever gets to see.'

Carlton motioned towards Caitlin. She was still dead. The dark pool around her had become a sea, and he realised that much of the blood was his.

'Look closely.'

Darkness pressed in around his vision. He peered at the still form of his friend and saw a hint of movement — not in Caitlin, but on her — and a strange light in the vicinity of her belly that had no clear source. The light coalesced, grew harder, became solid: a silver egg emerged from Caitlin as though it was insubstantial and passing through her. It lay on her for a second, then ran like mercury into a new shape before moving quickly away into the dark of the corridor.

Mallory knew he had seen such a thing before. He searched his memory — thought of Miller and Salisbury and a strange yearning in the office of Steelguard Securities — and then it came to him. 'A Caraprix,' he said. 'What… what was it doing in Caitlin?'

'There's one in you too, Mallory. Indeed, in all humans.' Carlton knelt beside Mallory and brushed the hair tenderly from his brow. 'Before you go, I wanted to let you into a secret. A big one. Part of the huge pattern that nobody ever gets to see while they're alive. You've earned it.'

'There's a Caraprix in all of us? Like the gods?'

'The Caraprix is in you. The gods only get to be friends with them for a while. What did you think they were, Mallory? Where do you think they came from?'

'No idea. Don't care.'

'The Pendragon Spirit is an amazing thing. A shard of Existence lodged in every human being, a reminder of their potential and their potential all wrapped up in one. But it's even more than that. It's a seed, waiting to be nurtured. Every experience a human has in their life is sunlight and water to that seed. It grows, and develops, and becomes something wonderful.'

'The Pendragon Spirit becomes the Caraprix?'

'Humans tend them, and grow them, and then, at the point of their death, set them free. And if they've done a good job in their life, the Caraprix thrives and moves off to its destiny. That's the point of life, Mallory. That's the reason for the tough road, the hardships and the suffering and the misery. As you fight to overcome them, you're growing these wonderful, brilliant things.'

'But what do they do? What are they for?'

'You'll see, Mallory. You'll all see. And then you'll understand why human beings and their fragile, hard lives, and their loves and friendships, their troubles and strife, their passing irritations and great achievements, their lows and highs, their fears and wonders and awe, are all so absolutely vital, and so amazing, and so much more important than you ever dreamed while you were going through them.'

'There's one in me?'

'There's one in you, Mallory. It'll be emerging soon, and it'll be a remarkable thing because you've nurtured it so well. It'll be one of the strongest, and it will have a part to play.'

'Well, that's weird… and… unexpected. And I still don't believe in stuff, but…'

Carlton laughed.

The world had grown dark.

'You close your eyes now, Mallory, and be content. You've done a great job, everything that was expected of you and more. You're a hero, Mallory. You won't be forgotten, ever.'

Mallory died.

Carlton watched him for a moment, studied the growing light and then gave a satisfied smile. He had been right.

Afterwards, he picked up the Wayfinder and blew on the dying spark that burned at the end of the wick. It winnowed into a small flame, and then grew larger and stronger until finally it burst from the lantern as it had when Hal attacked the Hortha with the last of his strength.

This time the flame folded in on itself and disappeared with a zzzzip, leaving a bemused Hal staring at his hands in incredulity. He was human, exactly as he had been up to the moment when he gave up his body to enter the Blue Fire.

'What?' he said, dazed. 'I'm here.'

'I'm sorry to pull you from the Blue Fire, Hal. I know exactly what you've lost. But you had it for a while, and that's more than anyone else.'

'Of course,' Hal said. 'But… I thought I was dying. I'd given up every part of me.'

'Exactly. Like every Brother and Sister of Dragons, you've been on your own personal road to enlightenment and transformation. Everything you've experienced has been preparing you for this moment. And your last, great sacrifice was… the final exam, I suppose. You passed.'

'Yeah?' Hal thought for a moment, and then said, 'I miss it, but in a way I'm still part of it. I was a part of it for all time.'

'Exactly.'

'What now?'

Carlton handed Hal the Wayfinder. 'Existence needs a Caretaker, Hal. Someone to walk the boundaries, watch over the fabric, close some doors, open others. Someone to turn on the lamps of hope in the dark of the night, and extinguish them when dawn's light touches the sky. Will you accept?'

Hal took a moment to assimilate the magnitude of what Carlton was offering him, and then he beamed. 'Of course I will!'

Carlton grinned. 'I knew you would. Now pick up the Extinction Shears, and let's be away. Everything is coming to a head, and you'll want to be there at the end.'