The Burning Man

9

‘Why don’t you just let her go?’ Miller said hopefully. He gripped the dashboard for dear life as Veitch sent the car hurtling down deserted dusty lanes barely wide enough for one vehicle.

‘Will you shut up? Jesus Christ, I tell you, Miller, one more word and you’re going in the boot.’ In the grip of his rage, Veitch slammed a fist on the steering wheel. ‘She can’t have got far. Bollocks, Etain can find her in a bit.’ He saw the sign he wanted and jammed a foot on the brake so hard that the car fishtailed wildly before it came to a halt.

‘You’re going to kill us!’ Miller said.

‘Tempting.’ With a scream of tyres, Veitch sent the car down a side lane, past long, yellowing grass and scrubby bushes towards the blue Aegean Sea. He eventually brought the car to a halt on a rocky, rough piece of ground not far from a large modern structure. All around, insects buzzed, their too-rich colours shimmering in the sun.

‘Where are we?’ Miller asked.

‘If there’s one thing that bastard Church taught me, it’s do your homework.’ Veitch got out of the car and walked towards the large structure. Miller followed meekly. ‘That roof covers American excavations of an old fort going back six thousand years. Most important Stone Age site in the area.’

‘We’re sightseeing?’

‘Nah, we’re not here for that. This used to be an area of springs, and there was a bloody big lake here before it dried up. Lerna, it was called. Famous. In those old stories, Hercules fought some big fuck-off monster round here.’ Veitch strode towards the sea and Miller had to skip to keep up. ‘Now if you were as smart as me, Miller, you’d know those old Stone Age geezers weren’t like Fred Flintstone. They knew what they were doing when they built their settlements. The big ones, the special ones, were all thrown up where the power in the land was strong. So strong it could cut through between here and … other places.’ He flashed Miller a grin. ‘You’re going to have to take my word for it, mate.’

Veitch stopped within earshot of the rolling waves and knelt down, holding his hand a few inches above the ground, feeling for something Miller couldn’t see. ‘I thought it’d cut me off after I went against it,’ he said to himself, ‘but I can still feel it.’ A note of awe rose in his voice.

‘Why are we here, Ryan?’ Miller said wearily. He glanced over his shoulder towards the deserted Tripoli road and the rising bulk of Mount Ponticos. ‘I want to go home. And … it doesn’t feel right here. I keep thinking something bad is going to happen.’

‘You’ve got to stop being scared by life, Miller. It’ll kick you in the arse all the time, but that doesn’t mean you’ve got to stick your bum in the air.’ He grinned. ‘You want to see something really cool?’

He slammed his hand palm down on the ground. To Miller’s surprise, blue sparks flew up and the air smelled of burned iron; even more surprising, it was oddly familiar to him. After a second, the ground began to rumble and soon a rift opened revealing a large, dark tunnel.

‘Lake Lerna was supposed to be bottomless,’ Veitch said. ‘Instead, there was a tunnel to the Underworld, so everyone said. And you know what? They were right. You can cross over to the good old Otherworld all over the place, but this is one of the few spots that lead directly to the Grim Lands. The Land of the Dead. My place, now. My people.’

Miller was transfixed. From deep in the tunnel, he could hear the echo of hoof-beats drawing closer. Within seconds it became thunder and then Etain and her three comrades burst from the ground on their supernatural mounts. Sickened, Miller looked away from the dead, pale skin blooming here and there with lividity.

‘The Brothers and Sisters of Spiders,’ Veitch said by way of introduction. ‘Might have to think about a new name for them.’ He nodded to Etain. ‘Hello, darlin’.’

She levelled her dead, emotionless eyes at him and Miller was convinced some unspoken communication passed between them, for Veitch’s face darkened.

‘Shit. What’s going on?’ He turned to Miller, but he was speaking to himself. ‘The way’s been blocked. They’re on to us.’

‘Oh, well done! How did you ever guess?’ The theatrical voice was punctuated by slow, mocking clapping.

The Libertarian sat on a baked, muddy dune, dressed all in white like a colonial aristocrat, with a wide-brimmed hat adding a touch of flamboyance above the sunglasses that hid his lidless red eyes. Though he exuded an air of condescending wit, there was no humour in his face.

‘Treachery comes so easily to you, doesn’t it?’ He sighed. ‘We pick you up — from your grave, actually — dust you down, give you purpose and power, and how do you repay us?’

Veitch made a subtle motion for Miller to move closer to him. ‘You made the big mistake of pissing me off.’

‘As we’re in Greece, it would be rather fitting to discuss the concept of hubris with you in relation to that arrogance, but I fear an intellectual debate really isn’t a dish you like.’ The Libertarian rose to his feet and effetely dusted down his pristine trousers. ‘What is your plan now? I can’t believe the other side has welcomed you with open arms, not after you slaughtered a small army of their kindly, decent-hearted sheep.’

‘They’re all bastards, same as your lot.’

‘So it’s the Veitch way, is it? A pox on both your houses. How wonderfully ambitious. You think a Fragile Creature can stand alone in the vast sweep of reality? Light-dark, good-bad, heaven-hell — there is no middle ground for you to occupy, Ryan. Where do you really think you’re going to find a place where you can survive, let alone make a difference?’

‘Nowhere.’ Veitch shifted his body weight. Miller knew Veitch carried some kind of weapon in a harness on his back, but he’d never seen it. ‘I’m going to bring the whole mess tumbling down. Back to the foundations. Then maybe we can start over again with something that actually works.’

‘Ah. Feeling a little spurned by both sides? What are you going to do? Huff, and puff, and blow really hard?’

‘Nah, I’ll leave it to the Extinction Shears, mate. I’ve seen what they can do, you know that. Plus, this decent bloke here, and the other one — I know they can help screw you up.’

The Libertarian fell silent for a moment. Then: ‘You know where the Extinction Shears are?’

Veitch grinned. ‘Your big mistake is you always underestimate me.’

‘You utilised our inability to register your presence very well, I’ll give you that. And obviously anyone who travels with you falls into that selfsame peculiar blind spot. But the minute they leave your side …’ The Libertarian made a melodramatic gesture.

‘Ruth.’ Veitch grew grave.

‘Yes, the Sister of Dragons. Clearly you’ve stopped murdering them now. Turned over a new leaf? Or is it just because this one makes your little heart go pitter-patter?’

‘Shut up!’

‘You love her?’ Miller said. ‘That’s why you kidnapped her. I knew you were good deep down-’

The Libertarian roared with laughter.

Veitch slipped one hand into the covered harness on his back and withdrew a sword. Black fire danced along the blade and reflected darkly in Veitch’s eyes. ‘I still have this.’

‘Oh, I bow to the power you wield. I’m no fool. Quite the opposite. You see, I know I could have brought a minor cadre of Lament-Brood here and overwhelmed you by sheer force of numbers. But where is the sport in that? A little emotional suffering always sweetens any mundane job, I say.’

Veitch was still wrestling with the Libertarian’s twisted logic when Miller made the connection for him. ‘He’s going to kill Ruth.’

‘No real need for her any longer. I let that little group of naive dragon-brood wander across this world with impunity to see if they could turn up the two Keys and/or the Extinction Shears. Oh, I threw an obstacle or two in their way, just so they didn’t get suspicious. But here you are, and you’ve done the job for them!’ The Libertarian squinted at Miller as if he couldn’t quite see him. ‘And I think once this one is chopped up into meaty chunks,’ he added hesitantly, ‘the other one will be superfluous. Two together or none at all.’

Terrified, Miller backed behind Veitch.

‘Don’t worry — I won’t let him take you,’ Veitch hissed.

‘I wager you always hear the James Bond theme in your head when you say things like that.’ The Libertarian bowed his head slightly and walked to the top of the dune. ‘Think of your lady-love while you are sadly unable to help her.’

Realisation came a second too late for Veitch. As he raced forward to cut the Libertarian in half, black spiders burst from bubbles in the air to shower in vast numbers on the ground. They formed a crescent around Veitch, Miller and the Brothers and Sisters of Spiders.

‘Where did they come from?’ Miller gasped.

‘They’re always there. Crawling behind reality.’ Veitch hesitated.

‘We can run through them-’

‘No! If they touch you, they’ll wipe you out as if you never existed.’

The spiders advanced. Cursing under his breath, Veitch backed towards the tunnel leading to the Underworld until he stood on its lip, one arm across Miller’s chest.

The Libertarian waved his hand theatrically. ‘ “There go the loves that wither, the old loves with wearier wings; And all dead years draw thither, and all disastrous things.” ’

‘I’m going to get you, you bastard!’

‘Shout all you want, no one will hear you. You’re going where you belong, Ryan, down amongst the dead men.’

Something wrapped tightly around Veitch’s ankles and then he was dragged backwards into the dark. As he fell, funereal cloth wrapped tightly around his head, and the last thing he heard was the sound of the ground closing above him.