After falling down the hole, Church found himself in a tunnel that sloped steeply downwards. The heat was as heavy as in the biome and added to the claustrophobic atmosphere. He skidded over damp rock gleaming in the half-light and came to a cavern that was barely the size of half a football pitch with a ceiling only the height of three men. A small pool of Blue Fire crackled in the centre, and in it slept the Fabulous Beast that had fled Vietnam, coiled tightly in the sustaining energy, its wounds still visible on its scales.
Church approached cautiously. The heavy-lidded eyes were closed and its breathing sounded like the rumbling of a traction engine.
When he had asked the Seelie Court to search for the Beast’s hiding place, he knew it was the key to his ability to fight back, but he wasn’t sure if even the Tuatha De Danann would be able to locate it.
As Church considered how to wake the Beast from its long, recuperative slumber, he heard movement behind him. Veitch stood in the entrance to the tunnel, his blade fizzing and spitting as if in opposition to the Blue Fire.
‘Stay away, Veitch,’ Church said. ‘It’s too late now. Once I wake this thing you’ll be toast.’
‘You always used to call me Ryan.’ His face gave nothing away.
‘You’ve wasted your time trying to get revenge. I didn’t kill you over Ruth. I did it because I had no choice. You were being manipulated by the gods and you were going to wreck everything.’
‘We’re all puppets in one way or another.’ He pointed the sword towards the rocks and the black flames snapped angrily. ‘When we met, you treated me like an equal. We set out on that road and there was a lot of death and a lot of pain, but for the first time I felt as if I wasn’t on my own. I had friends like I’d never had before, who listened to me and trusted me.’ He looked away and Church was surprised to see tears in his eyes.
‘We can-’
‘No, we can’t!’ he raged. ‘You don’t get it, do you? Things always work out for you. Born to be the king. The worst thing is to start out with misery, get shown a bit of hope and then have it taken away. If you lived in misery all your life you wouldn’t know any difference. Having that bit of hope makes all the bad stuff a hundred times worse. A thousand. I wish I’d never known you. I wish I’d never been a Brother of Dragons, just so I wouldn’t have to keep thinking how things might have been.’
He gripped his sword with two hands and raised it. In the glare from the black flames, his face took on a monstrous cast.
‘That’s why I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to kill that.’ He jabbed the sword towards the Fabulous Beast. And then I’m going to make sure there’s no more Blue Fire, and no more hope, so nobody has to go through what I’ve been through.’
Church backed up until he was ankle-deep in the Blue Fire, and felt it call out to his own Pendragon Spirit. He held up the piece of broken railing and thought how pathetic it looked.
As Veitch brought his sword closer to the pool of earth energy, it began to emit a sound like static that set Church’s teeth on edge. The unrestrained hatred in Veitch’s face was almost too much for Church to bear.
Behind him, the Fabulous Beast still slept. Church prepared to fight, knowing his likely options were die now or die later.
He turned and placed his hands on the Fabulous Beast. Its scales were hard and cool like gems beneath his fingers. His consciousness flowed through him and into the Beast as it had done in Vietnam, and once again he had the bizarre sensation of being in two places at once: in his own body and in the creature’s head.
The Fabulous Beast opened its eyes, and he had the even more disorienting sensation of watching himself. Veitch was behind him, sword raised to deliver the killing blow.
The creature reared up to the roof of the cavern in one fluid motion. Its uncoiling form propelled Church backwards and knocked Veitch offbalance. It released a burst of liquid fire along the roof of the cavern that illuminated another tunnel at the far end. The furnace heat of it seared Church’s lungs and almost drove him unconscious.
For one instant, he looked into its glittering eye and saw the untamed power there. After a long recuperation from its agony in Vietnam, it was now ready to return. With serpentine grace, it glided across the pool of Blue Fire and disappeared into the tunnel at speed.
Church staggered to his feet, still reeling from the fiery blast. Veitch was already up, silent and intense.
‘You can kill me now,’ Church said, ‘but now the Beast is out our side will have a chance.’
‘Aren’t you the big hero winning the day,’ Veitch sneered.
He stepped forward. Church ducked the first blow, using the piece of railing to deflect the sword, but being careful to ensure it didn’t take the full force that would shear through it in an instant. They performed a vicious ballet across the pool of Blue Fire. Veitch grew more furious with each passing second, forgetting his expertise, hacking and slashing almost randomly. Church was filled with grace and power. He could almost anticipate Veitch’s attacks, slipping away at the last second. He wielded the railing like a sword, ripping open Veitch’s cheek, tearing open his shirt, raising blood in a hundred places. Veitch’s eyes blazed; Church was convinced his opponent’s rage eliminated any pain.
As Veitch increased the ferocity of his attacks, Church grew calmer; he felt at peace in the centre of a storm. He sidestepped a vicious thrust, and then rammed the railing between Veitch’s calves, using his weight to pitch Veitch to the ground. As Veitch sprawled in the Blue Fire, Church brought one jagged end of the railing to Veitch’s throat.
‘It’s over,’ Church said.
‘You know it’s not,’ Veitch said. It’s not over till one of us is dead. You know that.’
‘It doesn’t have to be that way.’
Yes, it does.’
Their gazes locked. In Veitch’s eyes, Church saw a deep sadness hiding behind the anger. For a moment, everything hung. All Church had to do was put his weight on the railing and Veitch would be gone.
As he continued to search Veitch’s face, he caught a flicker: slyness. Veitch’s eyes glanced to one side. Church followed his gaze; only the tunnel entrance lay that way.
With a rapid movement, Veitch knocked the railing out of Church’s hand and jumped to his feet. His sword came up. Church had no defence.
At the last, Veitch hesitated. A dark smile crept across his face.
‘What are you doing, Veitch?’
Nearly time now,’ he whispered.
Confused, Church followed Veitch’s gaze towards the tunnel leading to the biome. Ruth had just emerged in the entrance
Before Church could divine what Veitch was planning, Veitch flipped his sword fluidly. Church caught it instinctively just as Veitch threw himself forward. The blade burst through his chest and out of his back. Stifling his agony, Veitch turned himself on the weapon. A gout of blood burst from his mouth and splashed down his chin.
‘Like I said,’ he croaked, ‘you’re fucking scum.’ His smile became cruel, then victorious.
Veitch slumped down, sliding off the blade as his life flickered out. In that instant a bolt of black lightning crackled from the sword. It leaped into Veitch, then Church and finally into Ruth, uniting the three of them in a blaze of darkness. Church’s mind blacked out for a moment, and when his thoughts returned, Veitch lay dead at his feet.
Ruth staggered over. What just happened?’
‘I don’t know.’ Although his teeth were ringing and his stomach turned queasily, it appeared that the black fire had had no lasting effect.
Ruth knelt beside Veitch, examining his face, still bearing the cast of the pain he had suffered in his final moment. ‘Why did he do that?’
‘Probably realised he couldn’t win.’ Church knew he was wrong, but there was no way to guess what had gone through Veitch’s mind at the end. Veitch’s motivations had always been complex and unpredictable; a man who was prepared to remove all hope from the world while simultaneously risking himself to save innocents. Who knew what really drove him?
‘At least he’s gone,’ Ruth said, but her tone was flat, and Church felt the same way. It was difficult for him to accept, but despite all the death Veitch had wrought over the centuries, Church still felt as though he had lost a brother.
‘Come on,’ Church said. ‘We’re done here.’