Laura was lost in the hallucinatory flicker of lights through the train window.
‘Deep in thought?’ Shavi slipped into the seat next to her. Apart from them, the carriage was empty. Church and Ruth were still locked in conversation with the king and queen of the Seelie Court in the adjoining carriage.
‘I don’t do deep thought,’ she lied. ‘Life’s for feeling.’ She could see from Shavi’s face that she wasn’t fooling him; she never did. Every time he would give his faint, knowing smile, but he would never challenge her. ‘Got a question for you,’ she said, deflecting the conversation. ‘Those lives we all remember from before we came together. They were fake, right? So who are we really?’
Shavi’s brow knitted; it was a question he had already considered. ‘I know, in a way unsupported by memory, that we are all good friends. The very best, a friendship that can only have been forged by travelling through the hardest of times.’
‘I only ask because since we all got together I’ve been getting flashes … images … snatches of conversation … things that don’t fit anywhere into my life at all, but feel more real than anything I do remember properly. You get that?’
‘I do. And it is growing stronger. We are throwing off the shackles of the Void. Moving closer to who we really are.’
‘So, us having sex together, on a warm night, with the stars overhead …’ She stopped, embarrassed at the dreamy tone that had materialised in her voice. ‘What does that mean?’
‘That you have excellent taste.’ He gave a teasing grin.
‘Did I mention it was a nightmare?’
‘I recall one thing from my previous life: an emptiness,’ Shavi said thoughtfully. ‘I remember searching many spiritual paths for answers, finding none. Until I joined with you.’
His words echoed Laura’s own thoughts.
They were interrupted by Church and Ruth returning from the adjoining carriage. ‘This train isn’t going anywhere we need to be,’ Church said. ‘We should get off as soon as we can.’
Laura glanced out into the dark. ‘Don’t want to burst your bubble, Chief, but no Railcard is getting us back home from here.’
‘We’re not going home.’
‘Where, then?’
‘Not sure exactly, but somewhere in Scandinavia.’
‘That narrows it down,’ Laura said sarcastically. ‘Any particular reason for that destination, or do you just like cheap furniture with clean lines?’
‘Puck told me we needed to look in a cold land where rainbows bring the gods to Earth. In Norse mythology, the Rainbow Bridge is the link between Earth and the gods.’
‘You’re putting all your trust in some mischievous imp that spends its time leading humans into swamps?’
‘And saving them from them,’ Church said. ‘Don’t forget the other side of the coin.’
‘I have to agree with Laura,’ Shavi said. ‘At best the Puck’s intentions are ambiguous. How do you know we can trust him? None of the Tuatha De Danann appears to hold him in high regard.’
‘He’s got his own agenda,’ Church concurred, ‘but my instinct says this time we need to follow his suggestion.’
‘All right, so how do we get off this damn thing?’ Ruth said.
‘You ask. I exist only to serve.’ Everyone started; Ahken was standing near the doors halfway down the carriage.
‘Is that how people get off?’ Laura snapped. ‘You pop up like a rat from a drain and give them a heart attack?’
‘Many have died on the Last Train.’ Ahken clasped his hands in a gesture of deference that also appeared triumphal. He smiled and raised one hand. The train slowed. ‘The Last Train is at your service whenever you might need it. One small thing will summon it: a spot of blood on the tracks.’ Ahken bowed.
‘You really think we’re getting on this thing again?’ Laura sneered.
Ahken smiled again, this time sly and cold. ‘Everyone takes a scheduled trip on the Last Train once in their existence. Yours is still to come. A seat has been reserved.’
Laura felt a chill, resisted the urge to ask when that would be.
The doors slid open and they stepped onto the clean, modern platform of Heathrow Airport Underground Station.
‘Shit. How did he know where we needed to be?’ Laura turned to ask Ahken, but the Last Train had already departed, as silent as the grave.