12

They headed west through the ancient heart of England, over rolling downs and past silent golden cornfields, through market towns still dreaming of the Tudors and woods where the oaks were twisted with age, and onwards to the M5 motorway. They followed it south to Exeter, and then west through Devon and into Cornwall, stopping only briefly to refuel. Every time they slowed at junctions, Laura, Shavi and Ruth turned to the windows, searching for anything that might hint of an impending attack. But there were only lorry drivers heading through the night from the port at Bristol, or tourists trying to beat the daytime jams.

‘I don’t get it,’ Laura said. ‘They wouldn’t give us a free run. Maybe they don’t know where we are.’

‘They know,’ Church said.

‘They are biding their time.’ Shavi leaned on the back of Church’s seat, searching the road ahead. ‘After our escape they are not taking any chances. They want to get us into a position from which there is no escape.’

‘Because they’re scared of us,’ Ruth said.

‘They’re scared of what we represent,’ Church corrected. ‘They’re scared of the Pendragon Spirit.’

They followed the granite spine of Cornwall towards the land where Church had begun his journey 2,300 years earlier. Before they reached Carn Euny, Church took them south, past patchwork fields and stone walls and trees bent double by Atlantic storms. In the distance the lights of St Austell rose up, with the beach and sea just beyond.

‘Nearly there now,’ Church said. ‘I can feel it.’ The light in his head was brighter; he could almost hear the Seelie Court singing.

The roads beyond St Austell were poorly lit and the dark appeared to be closing in on every side. In the shadows they thought they glimpsed faces and movement, but they sped by too fast to be sure.

The road continued up a steep incline; at the top Church slowed and peered over the steering wheel. ‘I think I know where we are.’

Ruth looked out into the night. ‘Don’t stop here,’ she said uneasily.

From there it was downhill all the way. They left the main road and passed through some gates onto a private road. Ahead a soft golden glow rose up from somewhere below their line of sight.

And there Church did bring the van to a halt. While the engine idled, he looked at the faint glow. ‘This is either a coincidence or the weirdest synchronicity,’ he said. ‘This particular part of my journey is ending where my journey as a Brother of Dragons began this second time round. Metaphorically speaking.’

‘It is the ouroboros,’ Shavi said, ‘the serpent eating its own tail. A full circle. Every ending is a new beginning, and so the cycle continues.’

‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,’ Laura said, ‘and to be honest, no interest. But you’ve clearly done a lot of drugs in the past.’

Ruth had been staring out of the side window, not at the glow, but at the vast sea of darkness that surrounded it. ‘Something’s not right,’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’ Church asked.

‘The shadows are moving. See? All over.’ She indicated a wide arc.

Ruth was right: the darkness looked like a black sheet with something squirming underneath.

They were all mesmerised by it until Church realised what they were seeing. ‘Spiders.’

They covered every inch of the fields and hillsides surrounding them, billions of them drawing in on the golden light ahead.

Laura pointed through the windscreen. In the cone of illumination from the headlights, the spiders streamed towards them.

‘We’ll never get past them,’ she said.

‘If we don’t get down there to the light, it’s all over,’ Church said. ‘We’ve got nowhere else to go.’

He revved the engine and popped the clutch. The van jumped forward with a squeal of tyres and Laura and Shavi were thrown across the back seat. Laura let out a stream of foul-mouthed abuse. Ruth gripped the dashboard until her knuckles turned white.

The van ploughed into the wave of spiders at speed. Some of them burst like overripe fruit, others crunched like gravel. It was difficult for the tyres to gain traction on the pulped remains, and the van skewed before going into a slide. Church wrestled with the wheel and kept the vehicle moving forward.

As the tyres spun wildly, Church realised it was already too late. The spiders were sweeping onto the vehicle from every direction.

‘Keep away from the sides,’ Church yelled over the racing engine. ‘They’re going to be coming through any second.’ Ahead, the sea of spiders appeared to stretch for ever.

Holes began to appear in the metal walls of the van. It wasn’t as if the spiders had eaten through, but rather that they had cut through the fundamental force that tethered the molecules together in this reality. Laura positioned herself on the floor of the van and kicked out at any emerging spiders. They flew off into the slipstream before they could get a grip on her boots. Shavi snatched up a wheel brace and did the same.

Church kept the pedal to the floor. The road led downhill at a slight incline and the van skated from side to side. As they glimpsed a large, empty car park, a metallic scraping rose up.

‘They’ve stripped away the tyres,’ Church said.

‘Are we going to make it?’ Ruth tried to hide the concern in her voice.

Church didn’t answer.

The sides of the van were suddenly ragged. Too many holes were forming for Laura and Shavi to stop the flow.

‘They’ll be in any second,’ Laura shouted. ‘How much further?’

‘Not far,’ Church lied.

The spiders had gained purchase on the front of the van and were spreading across the windscreen. Church used the wipers to little effect.

‘You’re the one who works the Craft, aren’t you?’ Church said to Ruth. ‘Can’t you do something?’

‘I don’t know how … I … I can’t remember-’

‘This junkheap is falling apart,’ Laura yelled. ‘I’m going to be sliding on my arse in a second.’

Ruth bowed her head and closed her eyes. During the journey back through the Far Lands, Church had told her how one in every Five always had mastery of the Craft. It explained the owl, her familiar, but she had no idea how to access the abilities she must have developed in her past life. She concentrated intently.

The rear doors fell off with a clatter. Streams of golden sparks trailed behind them from the wheel rims. The windscreen was now fully covered by the wriggling black bodies. Soon the glass would disappear and hundreds of the writhing creatures would surge in.

There was a white flash, like a lightning bolt, and the entire windscreen flew out with the spiders still clinging to it. Ruth convulsed and spat a mouthful of bile to the floor.

‘You did it,’ Church said.

Ruth smiled weakly before slumping back into the seat. Even that little effort had drained her completely.

The road noise grew drastically louder and Church saw there were no longer any spiders ahead.

‘They are leaving,’ Shavi exclaimed. He watched the creatures fly off the van and return to the mass that waited along a clear line a few yards behind them.

‘I don’t get it,’ Laura said. They had us. Why are they holding back now?’

Church stopped the van and jumped out, and saw that she was right. The spiders had halted in a wide arc as if held back by an invisible fence. It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘We’re through.’

The others clambered out. Laura jumped onto Shavi’s back, laughing, and playfully bit his neck.

He gave her a piggy-back to where Church was supporting Ruth, who was slowly recovering.

Church nodded to a winding path that led towards the light. Let’s go.’

I’m not looking forward to getting out of here later,’ Laura said, eyeing the darkness where the spiders waited.

They followed the path around to a large visitors’ centre. Beyond it was a landscape that looked as if it had been plucked from a 1950s science fiction movie. In a 108-foot-deep former china clay pit stood two enormous geodesic domes surrounded by a massive, lush garden filled with plants from India to Russia. Shavi, Laura and Church recognised the place immediately.

‘What are those domes?’ Ruth said. The view was so impressive it made them all stop and stare.

‘Greenhouses,’ Laura said. ‘They’re called biomes.’ Everyone looked at her, puzzled. I happen to like the environment,’ she said tartly. Inside one of those domes are trees and plants from the rainforests and tropical islands. The other one has stuff from the Med, California and South Africa. They’re temperature-controlled to match the local climates. You can’t really tell from here, but there are full-grown trees in there. They’ve been calling this place the Eighth Wonder of the World.’ She gave a hard smile. ‘An environmentally friendly paradise.’

Shavi read the sign by the entrance. ‘The Eden Project. Dedicated to the environment-’ Shavi recalled the words of the spirit-form just before it took his eye: The Fabulous Beast sleeps beneath the Garden of Eden.

Nature. That makes sense,’ Church mused.

‘You’re still not filling me with confidence that you know what you’re doing,’ Laura said.

‘Ten minutes ago, I didn’t. Now … maybe.’

The visitors’ centre was lit up brightly, but eerily still. Church led the way inside.

‘Look at this.’ Behind a desk, Ruth pointed out two security guards, both of them in a deep slumber, faint smiles playing on their lips.

They passed a deserted cafeteria and empty ticket desks. It felt as though all the occupants had suddenly vanished. Doors led outside to a viewing platform on the lip of the crater. Beneath them, a path wound around the side of the pit through the thick vegetation to the floor far below where the biomes and other buildings were located.

‘Do you feel it?’ Church said as they looked out over the evocative combination of ancient nature and futuristic design. The atmosphere was electric with the same vibrancy Church had felt at Boskawen-Un and Krakow.

‘I do not understand,’ Shavi said, intrigued. ‘I thought the provenance of this power was the ancient sites.’

‘So did I,’ Church replied. ‘But it’s here.’

‘Get a grip. We’re not alone.’ Laura leaned over the rail of the viewing platform and pointed towards movement on the floor of the crater. Torches bobbed amongst the shadows near a large covered stage. Not far away, in a puddle of electric light, Church could see the tail of a procession of strange beings.

‘The Seelie Court,’ he said.

‘The travelling court of the Tuatha De Danann?’ Ruth said. ‘What are they doing here?’

‘When I was in London during the Second World War I developed a bond with them,’ Church answered. I can feel them in my head, wherever they are, and they can sense me. When I was in America in sixty-nine I asked them for a favour.’

‘Drugs or sex?’ Laura said.

‘A search, for the one thing that could help us.’

They jogged down the winding path towards the court. As the route opened onto the floor of the pit, they finally comprehended the huge scale of the biomes gleaming in the lights. For Ruth, Shavi and Laura it was the first time they had experienced the otherworldliness of the Seelie Court, and for a moment they could only stand and gape.

The king and queen approached Church with their attendants.

‘Brother of Dragons,’ the king said. ‘So good to see you recovered from your previous predicament. Of course, we knew it was only a matter of time.’

‘Your legend grows by the day,’ the queen said lightly.

‘And these are your fellow Brothers and Sisters of Dragons?’ The king surveyed the others. Laura was fixated on a man with a hawk’s beak and the legs of a goat, while a woman with silver eyes and grey skin was examining Ruth’s long hair, much to Ruth’s discomfort. Church introduced the three of them.

‘You’re here at my request?’ Church asked the king.

‘This is where our quest led us, Brother of Dragons. The task you set us was not easy, for the prize did not want to be found. We had to listen quietly to the whisperings of Existence, follow the scents on the wind-’

‘Thank you. I’m in your debt. Where-?’

The queen brought a hand to her temple. Her brow furrowed. ‘Beware. The hunters have come.’

On the lip of the crater high above, five riders were silhouetted against the lights of the visitors’ centre. The spiders couldn’t enter the peculiar magical atmosphere of the site, but Veitch and his four followers had no problem; they had all been touched by the Pendragon Spirit and the Blue Fire held no fear for them.

Veitch fell into relief as he urged his horse down the winding path. The others followed.

Church turned to Ruth, Shavi and Laura. ‘We have to find some way to hold them off until I can do what I need to do.’

‘Go,’ Shavi said. ‘We will do what we can.’

The king pointed towards the tropical biome. Church ran for the entrance with the sound of the approaching horses in his ears.

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