Destroyer of Worlds

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 provisions. '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.'

'Despite all evidence to the contrary,' Laura muttered as she passed, tugging with irritation at the furs.

On the fringes of the group, a tearful Mahalia quietly but intensely confronted Jack, but he remained resolute, if sad. Church was impressed by how the teenager had risen to the responsibility of being one of the Two Keys, as had Miller, who shuffled awkwardly nearby, trying to ignore the outpouring of emotion. Crowther watched the two with fatherly concern, but did not interfere.

'I can understand how Mahalia feels,' Ruth said. 'It's awful to feel so powerless when someone you love goes into danger.'

'I bet you've never felt powerless in your life,' Church said.

'That shows how much you know.'

For the last ten minutes, Tom had been sitting on the low stone wall surrounding the pool, smoking and talking intently to Shavi. As it had been for several hours, most of the conversation was about the Caraprix and the meaning of their sudden evacuation from the Tuatha De Danaan to Doctor Jay's lab where Jerzy still lay. Since then, no one had been able to gain access to the room to find the reason for the light blazing under the door and the constant jarring noise.

Shavi saw Church looking and came over. 'I have a question,' he said to Rhiannon and Lugh. 'We are searching for the Halls of the Drakusa. Who are the Drakusa? Tom has spent a lifetime amassing knowledge of the Far Lands and he has never heard tell of them.'

'The Golden Ones do not talk of them,' Rhiannon said. 'We rarely acknowledge they existed, even amongst ourselves.'

'The Golden Ones have survived and found strength in self-delusion,' Lugh began cautiously. 'That we are the first and that we are the last. That we are at the heart of Existence. That we are the strongest.'

'We are not,' Rhiannon said. 'And we might have climbed higher on the ladder of Existence if we had found the wisdom to recognise the truth earlier.'

'The Drakusa came before you?' Church asked.

'They, and others,' Lugh replied.

'What happened to them?' Shavi queried.

'No one knows. The footprints of those lost civilisations can still be found across the Far Lands, if one looks carefully,' Rhiannon admitted. 'In ruins, so overgrown they have almost become part of the landscape, in artefacts, in rumours and prophecies and stories where their existence is clear in what is not said, rather than what is.'

Veitch and Hunter arrived with Virginia Dare, who was wrapped in a cloak so thick there was only a hint of the pale moon of her face. Her head was bowed, her arms wrapped around her, locked so deeply within herself she appeared oblivious to her surroundings.

'I'm not sure she's up to this,' Ruth whispered.

'We don't have a choice,' Church said. 'She's been traumatised. Her mind keeps shutting down to protect her from what she's been through and that's going to make her a burden for us when we hit danger.' He paused. 'And I know how cruel it is to take her back there. If I could think of any other way to do this, I would.'

Within a quarter of an hour, they were ready to make the journey to Winter-side. Shavi cast his eyes over the group. 'Ten of us,' he said. 'Six Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, Tom, Miller, Jack and Virginia. Nine would have been better.'

'Great. Nine potential sources of irritation,' Laura said. 'It was bad enough when there were only five of us.'

A moment after Lugh and Rhiannon said their goodbyes, Church passed through the arch and found himself in the same square, only now foot-deep in snow. An unearthly stillness lay over the normally bustling city.

Once the others had joined him, they made their way along the winding cobbled streets, through the eerily deserted city, noting how the street-plan and the buildings echoed their counterparts on Summer-side, but were subtly different. A sense of menace pervaded the court, engrained in the distorted proportions of the architecture, or the odd way shadows fell, or the occasional sound that echoed through the stillness: a dog's howl, snow suddenly falling from a roof, something that sounded like a baby crying, but was clearly not.

The high buildings protected them from most of the elements, but when they ventured beyond the gates onto the Great Plain, they were blasted by a bitter gale that propelled snowflakes into their flesh like burning needles. Bowing their heads, they drove on through the knee-high snow, Tom guiding them with every subtle tug on his ring-finger.

When the pink glow of dawn finally warmed the horizon, their faces, fingers and toes were numb and snow encrusted the front of their furs. Laura complained vehemently and Tom, Miller and Jack found it hard going, but the others maintained the pace. Of all of them, Hunter appeared to be thriving on the hardship.

It took most of the day to cross the arc of the Plain that took them to the foothills. They made camp on the gentle slopes, in a hollow filled with spiky gorse bushes and rocky outcroppings. Hunter lit a fire with remarkable speed, and soon they had four tents pitched around it, with water boiling for a warm drink. They ate their dry biscuits in two of the tents, clustered together for warmth, and soon fell asleep from exhaustion.

Church woke in the middle of the night, unsettled without knowing why. Crawling out into the bitter darkness, he found that the snow had stopped falling and the stars glimmered icily. It was Veitch's watch, but something was wrong. Church could see him prowling the edge of the camp beyond the red embers of the fire, his sword drawn, occasional flickers of blue amongst darting black flames.

'What's up?' Church followed Veitch's gaze to the snow-covered lip of the hollow.

'Something out there.'

'An animal? Or worse?'

'Dunno yet. I caught sight of it against the skyline, just a flash. It was big. Don't know if it was looking down here, or just prowling around. You'll be able to smell the smoke from the fire for miles.'

'Maybe the campfire wasn't the smartest move.'

'Nah, we needed to stay warm. Besides, we've not seen any sign of life since we got here. As far as we knew, this was a dead place.'

'I see you didn't wander up there to investigate.'

Veitch laughed quietly. 'Right, 'cause I'm a total no-mark, stumbling into the night to investigate a noise. My big slasher-pic moment.'

'There's two of us now.'

'Still not a good idea. There's no cover. Best I just sit down here and keep an eye.'

'I'll keep you company.'

'You don't need to.'

'Four eyes are better than two. And it gets lonely on your own.'

Veitch eyed Church curiously for a moment and then nodded. They sat on the leather provision bags while Veitch stoked the fire until the flames licked up again. As they warmed, conversation came easily and after a while Church realised how much it was like the early days of their friendship. He could see that Veitch felt it too, but neither of them spoke of it.

When dawn broke, they roused the others, who emerged stamping their feet and complaining to fight for space around the fire. They ate a quick breakfast of more dry biscuits, and then Veitch and Church ventured up to the ridge. The snow was disturbed and large tracks led off across the landscape.

'What do you reckon?' Veitch said.

'I don't get it,' Church replied. 'The tracks change. See here — these look like some kind of animal print, these are more like a reptile and these…' He paused at a series of circular holes in the snow disappearing into the distance, unable to find the words. 'Whatever, it looks like it was watching us.'

Veitch peered towards the horizon. 'It's not here now. Maybe it thought we were too much trouble for a snack.'

'Those black clouds look full of snow,' Church noted. 'We'd better get moving before it hits. We're going to freeze to death out here if it gets any colder.'

Church slid down the bank to the camp. Veitch inspected the tracks for a moment longer, casting his gaze across the expanse of snow, and then he followed Church, troubled without knowing why.