Jack of Ravens

13

The door was made of polished granite. Church couldn’t imagine who had made it, or constructed the chamber in which they stood. In the centre of the door at head height was a graven image of a serpent eating its own tail: an ouroboros, an ancient symbol for the cyclical and eternal nature of life. Level with his waist were the imprints of five hands of varying sizes. Church’s own hand fitted the central imprint perfectly, but none of the others. There was no handle on the door.

‘I think we each need to put a hand here,’ Church mused. ‘The door could be fitted with some kind of balance. The right pressure might move it.’

When there was no response, he looked back. Tannis, Owein, Etain and Branwen stared at the door apprehensively. Conoran watched Church with a cold, expectant eye.

‘What’s wrong?’ Church asked.

‘It has the mark of the dragon,’ Owein said.

‘You must enter alone. We will not follow.’ Branwen rubbed her hands together feverishly.

‘I can’t do it on my own.’ A rush of nausea from the poison swept through him. ‘All right, just help me push the door open. I’ll go in alone.’ The look of fear in their faces made him feel guilty; he had forgotten that for all their emotional and intellectual sophistication, they were still the product of superstitious times.

Conoran pointed one slender finger at Church. ‘If they open the door they must enter.’

‘You know more than you’re saying.’ The poison and disorientation made Church snap with irritation.

Conoran’s eyes glowed with a cold light that made Church regret his tone.

‘You haven’t come this far just for me,’ he said to the others. The delirium was growing worse again. ‘You’ve done it for your people. You think I can help defend them against the gods, and you may be right. But if you walk away now, I won’t be able to do anything because I’ll be dead. And what will happen then if the gods return?’ Church felt a twinge at the shameless emotional manipulation, but he could see in their eyes that it was working.

‘Your family and friends need you. Your tribe needs you,’ he continued. ‘I know you’re scared of what lies ahead, but I’ll stand with you. You’ve seen me fight. You know what I can do with this.’ He touched the sword, which sang quietly in response. ‘Together we can survive this. Didn’t I help you escape the Redcaps?’ He ran out of steam as poison-pain burned his heart, but he could see he had done enough. Conoran was smiling.

Tannis stepped forward and pressed his right hand into a snugly fitting hollow. ‘I stand with you, Jack, Giantkiller.’ He smiled warmly, all trace of fear expunged now that he had made his choice.

‘And I.’ Etain’s smile was shy, but her eyes blazed when she looked at Church.

Owein followed suit, and then finally — reluctantly — Branwen. All of their hands fitted perfectly into one or other of the hollows.

‘Almost as if it was meant to be,’ Conoran said wryly.

A short period of anticipation gave way to a crackle of blue sparks as the door swung open.

‘I await your return,’ Conoran said.

Church braced himself, then crossed the threshold.

What had appeared to be simply entering another room felt like moving to a different place entirely. The clammy underground air was replaced by a balmy summer warmth. Sand crunched beneath Church’s feet and a night sky dappled with unfamiliar constellations hung overhead. Gradually, he became accustomed to his surroundings. A hot breeze brought with it the scent of steaming vegetation. Ahead he could see palm trees silhouetted against the sky: an oasis; a garden.

‘Where are we?’ Etain whispered in awe.

‘The desert, I think,’ Church said.

A blue light amongst the trees pulled them towards it. The others drew their weapons with trepidation.

Church pushed through spiky-leaved bushes until he arrived at a lake. But instead of water it was filled with Blue Fire moving as though it were a liquid. A dark shape swam sinuously in its depths, but Church’s attention was drawn to a woman who stood in the centre of the lake, seemingly on the very surface of the flaming energy. Her skin was pale, her hair black, her eyes as blue as the fire.

‘Greetings, Quincunx.’ Church flinched; though the woman’s lips had moved, the voice was deep like a man’s, perhaps not quite human. ‘The first of many,’ she continued with a smile.

The surface behind her broke and a head rose on a long serpentine neck. It had scales and tines and horns and a form that reminded Church of pictures in books he had read as a child. Fire licked around its open mouth, and beneath the surface leathern wings were just visible amongst the coils of its body. Yet the strangest thing was that the creature appeared to be made of the Blue Fire itself. Now and then, Church glimpsed its vascular system beneath the flickering sapphire skin.

Behind Church, the others cowered. ‘Strike it now,’ Branwen hissed, ‘before it slays us with its breath.’

‘Do not be afraid,’ the woman said, and it seemed to Church that the beast was somehow speaking through her. ‘I am here to give you knowledge and purpose.’

‘Can you cure me?’ Church asked.

The woman and the beast jointly turned their attention to him. ‘You are filled with the black poison of the Devourer of All Things. Your time is nearly done.’ A pause, then: ‘Step forward.’

Church obeyed. Etain and Tannis leaped forward to prevent Church from burning himself in the flames, but he was surprised to find the Blue Fire cool. Euphoria rushed through him, and he could feel the poison being scoured from his system.

‘Thank you,’ he said. It didn’t seem enough. Whatever the fire was doing to him, he felt he could overcome any obstacle.

‘And you can, if the Blue Fire burns in your heart.’ The woman appeared to be privy to every thought that passed through his head. ‘Existence needs champions,’ she continued. ‘There is a great struggle ahead. Battle and suffering and death. But also wonder. And magic. Will you be the first?’

Everyone was too awed to speak, so the woman asked again: ‘Will you stand for Existence against the dark? Will you carry the Pendragon Spirit in your heart, and keep it alive so that it can move freely from champion to champion across the ocean of time? Will you be my Brothers and Sisters, the first of many?’

Filled with the rush of the Blue Fire, Church felt himself speaking. ‘I will.’

The woman smiled. ‘You are already the first amongst all, Jack Churchill. But there must be five. Always five. The Quincunx must be complete if the full power of Existence is to manifest.’

Tannis looked to Church. ‘If my good friend and leader says he will, then I must follow.’ Tannis grinned broadly and stepped into the fire. The minute it touched him, a moan of ecstasy left his lips. ‘Ah! I never knew! Brothers, sisters — follow me. Drink of this lake. Taste this power.’

Hesitantly, the others followed until they all stood in the lake. Their fear was soon forgotten. Instead, they grinned at each other, and hugged and kissed. Church felt a part of them, as if they had always known each other and always would. Etain fell into his arms and kissed him with a pure love, before moving on to Tannis, and Owein, and finally Branwen.

Church saw a blue star burning brightly in each of their chests, not floating on the surface, but buried inside. He realised with awe that he was looking through the physical to the essence of each one, the ghost in the machine. It was beautiful and immeasurably powerful and honest. Though memories faded and bodies decayed, he knew he would never forget the revelation until his dying day.

‘Now and for evermore, champions all,’ the woman said with a soft, soothing sibilance. ‘The spark of Blue Fire within you all has become a flame to drive out the darkest shadows. Where there is despair, you will bring hope. Where there is weakness, you will bring strength. Where there is fear, you will bring courage. The Pendragon Spirit has created an unbreakable bond that links this Quincunx, and all future champions of Existence, for all time. You are Brothers and Sisters. Be free.’

The incandescence became brighter, and then brighter still, rising up from the lake of fire until Church could see nothing but blue. The blue of summer skies, the blue of a peaceful ocean. Tranquil, eternal, majestic.