The Burning Man

6

As Ruth made her way amongst the drifting crowds of bohemians, stopping every now and then to examine the spectacular art displays, she tried to make some sense of her own see-sawing emotions.

She knew she loved Church, but she was increasingly aware of a growing affection for Veitch, which both Tom and Shavi had clearly recognised in Beijing before she had even allowed herself to be aware of it. But how much of that was due to her own feelings, and how much had been caused by Veitch’s power-sucking spell in Cornwall? Would she ever know the truth?

Veitch had done some terrible things, yet she could see that he was still at heart the hero who had been chosen by Existence. His great flaw was his emotional weakness. At times he was like a spurned child, lashing out at the things he believed had hurt his hopes and feelings. Could he be saved? It was her flaw to believe she could help him, and she was afraid it would all end in tears.

But love him? No, surely not.

From out of nowhere, the wind whipped up the dust into a choking smog in the avenue between the tents and shacks. A mutant vehicle, a three-wheeled motorbike with spider legs, roared by. The rider, a black woman wearing snow-goggles, yelled, ‘You want to get under cover. There’s another white-out coming on the back of the last.’ She disappeared into the dust.

The storm grew stronger in seconds. It was already too late to attempt to make her way back to Rick’s tent; her best option was to try one of the nearby homes.

Before she could move, the sound of hoof-beats began to draw near. From out of the swirling clouds came Etain, sword drawn. It took Ruth a second to realise she was the target and by then the Sister of Spiders was almost upon her.

At the last moment, Ruth threw herself out of the way. Disoriented by the dust blasting her eyes and face, crushed by the intense heat, she couldn’t run.

Etain brought her mount round again. Her scarred and blackened face gave no hint of the emotions that drove her.

Ruth barely avoided the thundering hooves. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she yelled as she rolled out of the way.

As the words left her lips, she knew. ‘You’re jealous,’ she said, stunned.

She was left reeling by the revelation that there was still some echo of life’s richness deep beneath the surface of what she had considered a mechanical shell. And she knew that Etain would not stop until she was dead.

Etain was lost in the now-raging dust storm. Choking, Ruth could barely breathe, barely stand. She covered her face and turned her thoughts inward.

I can do this, she pressed. Not so long ago I could have torn this world inside out. I can do it again.

As Etain roared out of the dust, Blue Fire exploded in Ruth’s head. The chaotic force of the dust storm bent to her will and smashed against Etain like a hammer, knocking her from the saddle. The impact probably broke several bones, but she was up in a second, sword in hand, marching towards Ruth.

Exhilarated, but unsure how long she could sustain it, Ruth said, ‘I’m going to thank you. If not for this, I’d probably never have been pushed hard enough to realise what I’m still capable of.’

Etain lunged with the sword. Ruth concentrated. It was becoming more difficult to focus, but she increased the power of the storm, forcing Etain back. She hacked and slashed, her fury an eerie counterpoint to her frozen features.

‘Okay, you love him, I get it,’ Ruth said. ‘You let Church into the pyramid because you hoped he might take me away and leave Ryan all to yourself. Now you’ve decided the only chance you have is to take me out of the picture completely. Is that right?’

Etain paused mid-strike and let her sword-arm fall to her side.

‘I feel sorry for you,’ Ruth continued. ‘I know how much you’ve suffered over the centuries. I’m not even going to comment on a dead woman falling in love with a living guy. Frankly, I’ve seen weirder things in recent times. But if you come for me again, I will take you apart. Literally.’

Etain stood in the raging dust for a moment until Ruth saw a single glint on her cheek, the last drop of moisture leaving her arid body.

Ruth wanted to say something that would comfort Etain, but the gulf was too great to bridge; and it troubled her to think that even on the other side of death there was no escape from the pain love often bought.

As the storm blew stronger, Ruth took shelter amongst the nearest tents, and when she looked back, Etain was gone.