Darkest hour

Chapter Twenty-one

It was like I was floating above myself. I could see and hear everything that was going on around me, and some things that were happening even further afield." Ruth stared bleakly at the makeshift bed where she had lain for so long.

Church slumped in the corner, eyes fixed on the middle distance, too weary to attempt to rationalise anything. There was no sound apart from Ruth's voice and the occasional gust of wind battering against the aged walls.

"It was near the end… I know it was near the end because my consciousness was starting to break up like some radio station on the edge of its frequency. I could see what was happening to my… my shell." She looked down at her belly, now returned to its normal size and shape. There was no sign of the disfiguring blemishes, and her skin had regained its usual colour. In fact, apart from the intense weariness that afflicted her spiritually as well as physically, there was no way of telling she had been through anything.

"You know, she wasn't as bad as we all thought," she said, glancing up at Church.

"I never thought she was bad."

"You didn't think she was good. I didn't. Especially me. And the worst thing was, she didn't even think it herself."

Church let the exhaustion pull his head down. He could feel each breath going in and out of his lungs. "What happened to her?"

"But she was good, you see. She deserved to be one of us."

Church looked up sharply. "What happened?"

"While you were out there facing up to the Fomorii there was a sound like an animal snuffling and scrabbling around the house. Laura got frightened by it. She looked round for anything that might make a weapon to defend me. You know, she was pretty close to the edge by then, and not just because of what was going on outside."

"You're pretty good with that perception." It sounded a little more sour than he had intended.

Ruth ignored him. "I think she was about to barricade the door when it suddenly burst in. It was Cernunnos."

Church's brow furrowed. "He came here? What about Shavi?"

Ruth shook her head. "It wasn't his Wild Hunt persona. It was the pleasing side of him… the Green side. He had a bottle." She was staring blankly at the wall of unintelligible writing as if the images were playing out like a movie. "Small, smoky-coloured. He spoke to Laura-"

"What did he say?" Church snapped. His inability to understand her was grating on him; he could sense some mystery behind it all that he didn't want revealed.

"I didn't hear it all. But the bottle held some kind of… potion, I suppose… something that Shavi had been after-"

"And he didn't say anything about Shavi?"

"No, I told you. The potion was supposed to save me. It wouldn't destroy Balor. It would…" She struggled for the correct words.

"What?" Church said in exasperation.

Ruth took a deep breath to compose herself. "He explained it all to Laura so she could make the right choice. He kept saying it was important she knew what she was doing. She didn't have to, there was no pressure, she could walk away-I remember him saying that, not quite in those words. But it was there if she wanted to use it. He wanted to help us, Church. He'd marked Laura and me-"

"A sacrifice. There always has to be a sacrifice."

"With magic, yes." She paused. "I suppose there's a price to pay for everything."

He put a hand over his eyes. "What was it?"

"It wouldn't destroy Balor, but it could transfer him-"

"What?" He felt something cold and hard start to grow inside him.

"Cernunnos left the bottle on the floor and went. Laura stared at it for a while. I could see her face, all the emotions so raw on it… I wish I'd been nicer to her. I was a bitch."

"She was a bitch. Don't start eulogising her." What did he feel? Anger? Bitterness? He was surprised he felt anything.

"She took the bottle. I don't think she knew whether she was supposed to drink it or pour it on me or what. But when she pulled out the stopper this smoke licked up, and it moved like it had a life of its own. And suddenly I was in agony, I mean real pain, worse than anything the Fomorii did to me. It was like wrenching, like…" She covered her eyes briefly. "And the next thing I knew, Laura was face-down on the floor. Out of it. Completely. Mercifully. And Balor was inside her, or wherever he-"

"Christ!" Church chewed on a knuckle, staring at the floor, picturing the scene, wishing he couldn't.

"She transferred it from me to inside herself."

"Christ."

"She did it for me, Church. For all of us."

"Christ."

Ruth wandered over to the window. The Bone Inspector sat forlornly on the lip of the ridge, exhausted, but she didn't seem to see him.

Church looked round. "Where is she, then?"

Ruth turned to him and her expression said it all. "The Fomorii took her. While you were out there fighting Calatin, a few of them came in here. One of them was-"

"Mollecht."

She nodded.

"He gave me what I needed to kill Calatin so he could seize control. And he took her?"

She nodded again. Then she came over and squatted next to him. He rested his head on her shoulder, acceptance crushing him down.

"So they have Balor. They've won."

They drifted outside in silence. From their vantage point they could see civilisation lit clearly in sodium, the cities glowing orange in the distance, the village oases, the ribbons of lights connecting them, mapping out humanity's hegemony. Church checked his watch, waited. A moment later every light winked out as one.

"It's time," he said bleakly.

From the south came a distant howling, growing louder. A wind tore across the countryside, bending the trees, ripping at the hedgerows, screaming up to them like lost souls en route to hell. The clouds tumbled before it, spreading out across the sky, obscuring the stars one by one until there wasn't even the light of the heavens to see by: only complete darkness, impenetrable, claustrophobic, too terrible for life. And in that awful howling wind Church could almost hear Laura's death-scream. It was all over. Balor had been reborn. The End of Everything had begun.

So this is the way the world ends, he thought.

Except it didn't. Things carried on the same, though sapped of hope, and everything he could pick out in the dark was dismally grey. There was the wind, quieter now, and Ruth beside him, unmoving. Or perhaps it was just an illusion, random flashes on his mind's eye. But it smelled the same, and it sounded the same, and that was worse than a sudden ending.

"I can't believe she's dead." Church stared into the heart of the blazing fire, remembering Skye at Beltane when they thought they had suffered a terrible defeat; not really knowing what the word meant. Behind him, Mam Tor loomed up against the sky; he couldn't bear to stay on it any longer. But at least the initial shock and dissolution had finally subsided. Now there was only a sickening numbness as he tried to come to terms with what the future held.

"We all knew there was a chance we were going to get it at some point." Ruth threw more wood on the blaze, enjoying the feel of the heat on her skin; despite everything, enjoying just being alive. "I'm sorry, Church, that sounded really harsh and I didn't mean it like that-"

"I know, I know. We were all aware our lives were hanging by a thread. But however much you think about people dying, it never really prepares you."

"It's a shock at the moment, more than anything because she was the last one you would have thought would have put her neck on the line. She never gave any sign-"

"That's because it was all going on inside."

Ruth eyed him incisively. "Did you know what she was really like?"

He shook his head. "I knew she had depths, but I don't think anybody in the world really knew what was going on inside her head."

"Did you love her?"

There was a long pause. "I don't know. I don't think so. I cared for her. This sounds like some stupid sixth-form conversation!" He stood up and paced angrily around the perimeter of the firelight.

Ruth waited till he'd calmed a little before continuing, "I wonder what's happened to the others."

"I can't believe they're dead. I'm not even going to think it until I see the evidence in front of me."

"You have changed, you know."

He nodded. "We both have. We've been to the lowest, darkest points of our lives and we've come out the other side. And I think we're both better for it."

Ruth let his words sink in, then asked, "Would you have killed me?"

He looked at her suspiciously across the fire, the dancing flames throwing curious shadows across his face. "I don't know. I knew I ought to."

"You were right. Of course you were. I would have done it to you. We have to think of the big picture-"

His look stopped her in her tracks; there was too much emotion in it, the backed-up excess of weeks of agonising deliberation. "There is no big picture. The only one that counts is this one here." He drew a small rectangle in the air in front of his eyes. "Reality exists inside us, not out here." He gestured towards the dark countryside. "And sometimes one life is more important than millions."

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them sure what to say next. They were saved from having to say anything in the too-charged atmosphere by the Bone Inspector, who strode out of the night with an armful of food. "There are some houses down the ways. Nobody left alive in them." He threw the provisions next to the fire and leaned on his staff for support; he looked hundreds of years old in the firelight.

"Are you sticking around?" Church asked him.

"No."

"What are you going to do now?"

"None of your business." He paused, then relented. "There's a lot to do."

"What's to do? We lost. It's over."

The Bone Inspector snorted derisively. "I was right. You are a pathetic little runt." He was swaying backwards and forwards on his staff, obviously on the verge of collapse.

"What do you mean?" Ruth asked curiously. "Balor's back. You saw the sky. You could feel it. At least I could, here, in the pit of my belly, like vibrations from a drill going off just under my feet."

Church nodded. "I felt it too, only for me it was a queasy feeling as if I'd eaten something rotten."

"Everybody felt it, even the animals," the Bone Inspector snapped. "Something that big shakes the foundation of life." He gave a hacking cough. "Look around you," he continued with watering eyes. "Is it over? Has the world folded up and been put away? Are we dead and not realising it?" He dropped to his haunches, still holding the staff between his legs as if it were a rudder steering the world. "Never give up hope. That's the message of life."

Church noted how like Tom he sounded. He was surprised by how much he suddenly missed his old companion; he wanted the benefit of Tom's wisdom, and his incisive overview of any situation, however bad-tempered he always was.

"We could still do something," Church suggested hopefully.

"You, not me. Of course you can still do something. That's what you're here for. In England's darkest hour-"

"I know, I know, a hero shall arise."

"And if this isn't the darkest of all darkest hours, what is?"

Sighing, Church stared pensively into the fire. "I wonder how long we've got before he starts wiping everything out."

"He'll start straight away," the Bone Inspector said. "At least once he's recovered from getting dragged back into this God-forsaken world. He can't be in tip-top shape after being locked up on the other side of death for God knows how long. Then there's getting established in his new little nest," he sneered, and motivating his troops, listening to all their whiny little pleas after all that time they've been separated from him."

Church looked at him curiously.

"And of course he won't be at full strength till he's drained every last drop of power at the next festival, the big one on their calendar, when the gates really do open and all the worst nightmares in the universe come scurrying back to this place to be here for the end of it all." The Bone Inspector fixed a cold eye on Church, almost daring him to continue.

Church glanced at Ruth. "You're right, I have changed. Not so long ago I'd have rolled over and died at odds like that. But, you know-"

She nodded in agreement "-maybe there's a chance we can do something."

"Don't get me wrong," the Bone Inspector continued, "the End of Everything has started. But it's still gathering pace. Maybe you can jam a stick in the spokes, maybe not."

Church continued to look into Ruth's eyes and he was pleased at what he saw. "Of all of us, I certainly don't think we were the most deserving. Veitch, maybe, Shavi, they were better than us in many ways. But we've learned a lot from all we've been through and maybe this is our chance to put it to good use."

"Maybe we can finally prove our worth."

"Rather you than me," the Bone Inspector snorted; but Church glimpsed a faint smile before he wiped it away.

"This is our chance, then," Church said. "The last one. Rearguard action while the world's going to hell around us."

Ruth pulled her knees up under her chin. "It's amazing how brave you can feel when you've got nothing left to lose."

Church realised she was right; surprisingly, he didn't feel any fear, nor any of the worries nor indecision that had dogged him before. There was a clarity to his emotions that gave him hope. "What do we have to do?"

The Bone Inspector sucked in a weary breath of air. "Are you expecting me to do it all for you?"

"I'm expecting you to use some of that knowledge that's been sitting around in your head gathering dust," Church said sharply. "We might not have got in this mess if you'd told us more before."

"Don't get snippy with me. It's secret knowledge for a reason, you idiot. It's not there to be told to any little runt who comes asking-"

"Just give us some guidance," Ruth pleaded. "Where do we go from here? We've lost two-thirds of the people helping us-we don't know if they're alive or dead. We've got no idea what the next step is!"

The passion in her voice seemed to strike a chord with him. "It's a good job you're here. I wouldn't have told that little bastard anything." He pulled himself up on his staff and walked slowly to the twilight zone beyond the firelight; he appeared to be weighing up his responsibilities. "All right," he said eventually. "But don't go asking me for anything else. The only way you're going to get anywhere is with the sword, the spear, the cauldron and the stone."

"The Quadrillax," Ruth said. "But the Tuatha De Danann have them now."

"And they're not going to help us while I've got the Fomorii taint in my system," Church said despondently.

"Well you better do something about it, then, hadn't you?" the Bone Inspector said bluntly. "Remember, it was the spear that killed the Great Beast last time. The sword, the spear, the cauldron and the stone are the only things in the whole of existence with enough power to do him in."

Deep in thought, Church threw more wood on the fire so it roared away wildly. It seemed to him, at that moment, that the light was more important than anything and he had to do everything in his power to preserve it. "When we came across two members of the Tuatha De Danann one night a few weeks back, I asked them how I could clear the Fomorii corruption out of my system. They said I should travel to the Western Isles to find something called the Pool of Wishes."

The Bone Inspector shrugged. "I wouldn't know about that. The Western Isles are somewhere in Otherworld, so the stories say. But I'll tell you this, there's another old story that says if you go down to Mousehole in Cornwall and stand at the quay and look across to Merlin's Rock, you can catch a fairy ship that will take you wherever you want to go."

Church nodded thoughtfully. "It isn't a lot, but we've gone a long way on much less." The Bone Inspector dipped into his pocket and pulled out a halfbottle of whisky. "Found it in one of the houses." He took a long slug, then threw it to Church. "You're at a turning point in your life. The mechanics of the mind are rituals. They tell that ancient bit at the back of your head to clear out the last cycle and prepare to move on to the next. This is your ritual, now-the best we can do under the circumstances. Make a toast."

Church didn't have to think long. He held up the bottle and said, "To absent friends. Let's hope they're all well. And to Laura, for being the best of all of us." He took a drink and tossed the bottle to Ruth.

"I'll drink to that," she said, "and I'll say this. It's just the two of us now, like it was when we started. But that'll be enough. And we'll win." There was so much fire and defiance in her voice Church almost believed her.

After that they sat drinking quietly, talking about their friends, trying to keep them alive with words; and at some point, they looked up from their discussion and found the Bone Inspector had gone, back to his age-old round of the sacred sites of their ancestors.

They moved as close to the fire as they could without burning themselves and kept it well stoked against the oppression of the night. "Do you really think we can do it?" Church asked above the crackling of the wood.

"Look what we've achieved so far." Ruth slid next to him and rested her head on his shoulder; he put his arm around her. "You killed Calatin-"

"With Mollecht's help."

"But you killed him. And it was your planning that brought Maponus here to devastate the Fomorii forces. You pulled out a great victory when it didn't look like we had a chance."

"There was a lot of luck-"

"And that's a quality a good leader needs." She looked up into his dark eyes and smiled. "But don't try lording it over me, all right?"

They rested silently, half-dozing, but too uneasy to sleep fully. Although they never discussed it with each other, they both knew the world had changed: a faint smell of cinders drifted in the chill wind and there was an unpleasant feeling of a great weight pressing in all around them. And though they waited and waited for the streetlights to come back on, they never did.

Somewhere away in the dark, the Heart of Shadows had started to pulse, a beat that was growing stronger with every passing minute; relentless, like the pounding of war drums signalling the End of Everything.