said.
'Shut up, you old git!' Laura glared at him.
'I'm just saying. If you can find another alternative… If not…' Tom looked to Veitch.
A roar echoed above the clamour of battle. Shivering, Laura watched a figure silhouetted against the flames on one of the rooftops, part-beast, part-vegetation.
'Oh God, he's come for me,' she whispered.
Cernunnos, the Green Man, bounded into the throng. He was not alone. A flash, low and lean on the edge of vision, signalled the arrival of the Puck. A glimmer of blue light. A small figure, filled with a power that dwarfed the world.
Time appeared to stand still. There was silence and a cold, cold wind as the Oldest Things in the Land drew rapidly closer, never in plain sight. And then Cernunnos was towering over Laura, and all she could see was his eyes filling her vision.
'I'm sorry,' she said.
'Do not be afraid, daughter,' his voice boomed, 'I harbour no ill feelings. You played your part well, and bore your own personal pain like a true Sister of Dragons.'
A tear of relief sprang to Laura's eye.
Cernunnos turned to the others. 'This road is nearly done, your parts played out. An end fast approaches, but its outcome is yet in doubt. Existence holds its breath, and here, in the heart of the final battle, all is still.'
The shimmer of the Puck's grin, there, then gone. 'Fools and lovers, all. The clock has turned, the final moment beat. Stay your hands now. Only three — that magic number — can stand.'
Cernunnos towered over Veitch. 'You have learned of death, Brother of Dragons. That was your role. Go now, and put into practice all that you know.'
Veitch nodded, and raced into the dark after Church.
'Lovers,' the Puck added in a quiet, enigmatic tone, 'and fools.'
5
It was dank and dark for the first section of the tunnel, but eventually it opened out onto a broad stone bridge framed by the glare of the Burning Man, whose arms reached down into the abyss on either side. When Church glanced over the edge, it was impossible to see more than a few feet into the darkness, as though some quality of the place was draining the light away. The strip of rock overhead appeared to be pressing down upon him, adding to the claustrophobic atmosphere. Torches flickered all around in the gulf.
Caledfwlch's flames danced as Church advanced across the bridge, but even the blade's light was dimmed.
This is where it all happens, Church thought. Be ready now.
Red eyes glimmered in the gloom ahead and he realised the Libertarian was there.
'Where's Ruth?' he said.
'Why do you care?' the Libertarian mocked. 'She's moved away from you. She's with me now. Which is you. Oh, what a strange and sweet paradox. If she's attracted to you, she'd be secretly attracted to me. I don't know why you never thought of that.'
'Ruth's stronger than me… and you. Whatever she might feel for us, she'd walk away rather than pick the wrong side. She'd sooner see us both dead and suffer a broken heart.'
'I love it!' the Libertarian exclaimed. 'The romanticism! A broken heart! It's like listening to yourself as a child. All that innocence. All that ignorance.'
Ruth was nowhere to be seen, but Church knew she had to be close at hand.
'You see, both you and the lovely Ruth have been on a learning journey,' the Libertarian continued. 'She has seen the real you, not the good, decent, pure-hearted hero that legend would have us believe in. Within you lurks the seed of me. And without that knowledge she would not have been so easily turned.'
'What do you mean?'
The Libertarian gestured flamboyantly. Behind Church, at the entrance to the bridge, Ruth stood, in the tight- fitting black outfit that Niamh had once worn. Consumed by the power of the Craft, bolts of energy crackled around her as she floated inches above the floor, her eyes on fire.
'She's mine now,' the Libertarian said. 'The only way you can get her back is by becoming me. You see, even though I've moved on, I still understand the human heart, and its many, many weaknesses. Despite all the battles and the great adventures, that, in essence, is what it's all been about: love. It means more to humans than saving the world. It means everything.'
'There's a reason for that,' Church said. 'It really does mean everything. That's what you don't get.'
The Libertarian laughed. 'Still playing the innocent, with your syrupy philosophies. Life has harder edges than that.'
Church looked from Ruth to the Libertarian, weighing whether he could reach either one before he was struck down.
'This moment, right at the end of time, is fluid,' the Libertarian said. 'It will already be deviating from the vision you had in the Forbidden City because your knowledge of your destiny now alters your choices, but without changing the outcome. You were never up to doing what needed to be done to prevent me coming into being. Because of love.' His words dripped contempt. 'You've reached the end of the pattern and found that it's a maze that always leads back on itself. The only way to prevent me defeating you is to kill Ruth, and then kill me. Ruth is my Key. The key to your heart, your hopes. When I toss your bleeding body into the flames of the Burning Man, it is her power that will help you be reborn as me. Kill her, and end this now.'
Church glanced back at Ruth and knew the Libertarian had won. Ignoring the futility, he turned and raced towards his future-self with sword held high. The blast from Ruth came just as he had anticipated, hurling him up into the air. Blood splattered all around from a score of wounds.
Next to him, Caledfwlch lay shattered, the Blue Fire extinguished. The outlines of the sword blurred and changed continually, not a sword at all.
Church tried to pull himself to his feet, spat a mouthful of blood and collapsed on the stone. His body felt drained of energy.
In the distance, a pack of dogs howled, their voices joining to become one gut-wrenching, mournful cry for what was about to be lost. The Libertarian cupped his ear. 'The Hounds of Avalon,' he said. 'Every time the world ends, they get to sing it out in style, and the Void has ended it many times, pressing the reset button and starting again. But this is the last. The ultimate. The end. So let them howl their hearts out one final time.'
The Libertarian caught Church by the lapels and pulled him up. 'Three minutes to go, Brother of Dragons. Three minutes until the final, absolute victory of the Devourer of All Things. The end of all hope for Existence. That is what you have thrown away with your stupid love.
'You never realised how important you were to everything or you wouldn't have made so many stupid mistakes. You were always the key to Existence succeeding, both as a man, in the things you did, and as a symbol of everything that Existence is.
'But when I throw you into that abyss, you will be wiped from Existence. No one will remember you. You will not have existed, you will never have existed, and reality will reshape itself around the vacuum you leave behind, with me. Without you, without the very symbol of Existence, nothing can ever change again. Existence is destroyed. The Void wins for ever.'
'No,' Church croaked, 'I'm not that important.'
'You always rattled on about the power of symbols and failed to see how crucial you were. The king. The power in the land. The hope of all reality in its darkest hour. With you gone, with you never having existed, there is no hope. And without hope there is only despair.'
The Libertarian hauled Church to the edge of the bridge. 'I should say something poetic, like 'Prepare to come to nothing, like all your dreams', but I think I'll settle for die, you bastard. Die, and be gone, so I can forget about you, finally.'
