Church and Gabe scrambled along the tunnels as fast as they could, unsure whether Marcy or the others had been destroyed in the inferno. But as they clambered out of the hole that gave access to the tunnel network, they found Marcy staggering around amongst the trees, a ragged scar marking her cheek where the spider had been. Gabe lurched towards her across the rolling ground.
‘He took it out,’ she said, dazed. ‘I don’t know how, but he did.’
The sound of shelling and gunfire surrounded them. Plumes of smoke rose up through the vegetation and jets blazed across the sky. The Tet Offensive was in full swing.
Church stopped uncertainly a few feet from Gabe and Marcy.
‘You were going to do what you had to,’ Gabe said. ‘I don’t hold it against you.’
They were all thrown off their feet as trees, vegetation, soil and rock erupted upwards in a deafening explosion. Rising up through the rubble came the Fabulous Beast with slow, heavy beats of its wings. Two Phantom jets roared by to attack the Vietcong positions and had to take evasive action to avoid the creature. As the Beast flew towards the west, Church’s ears rang with a long, low, plaintive cry that broke his heart.
‘Is this a win?’ Gabe said.
Church shook his head. ‘The source of the Blue Fire has been blocked. We’re cut off from it, and whatever energy is left here is going to dwindle. No more Fabulous Beasts will be born into this world.’
Church was devastated by the thought of what had been lost. Magic was gone. The lifeblood of the world had been stanched. The Fabulous Beasts that brought such majesty and wonder to Existence were now threatened with extinction. He fought back the wave of despair that rose up in him, determined never to give in to it again. Church, Gabe and Marcy watched the Beast until it disappeared.
There was a disturbance in the trees. Church expected to see Veitch, but instead it was the trader in the tattered black robe from the Market of Wishful Spirit. He held the Extinction Shears, somehow recovered from the conflagration in the cavern. One pale hand was extended towards Church, a simple gesture that was somehow innately threatening. Church handed him the mirror.
He bowed obsequiously. There are always many wonders at the Market of Wishful Spirit. These items may not be available for a while, but buyers will find something for their heart’s desire. Drop by, drop by.’ He edged backwards into the trees and was soon lost to the shadows.