Church blinked, and Puck was only a foot away, staring deep into Church’s eyes. ‘You are a merry wanderer yourself these days, it seems.’
‘What have you done with the Anubis Box?’ Church was concerned that such a powerful object was in the hands of so unpredictable a force.
Puck held out his open palms and feigned an expression of puzzlement. It was pointless questioning him further.
‘I’ll ask you again: what do you want?’
‘To light your way along a dark road. The Puck is a friend to the lost. If the lost are a friend to the Puck.’ A hint of a threat shaded his comment.
Church tempered his tone; there was little point risking his life or his sanity. ‘Any help would be gratefully received.’
‘Then listen, Master Churchill. This world is a frightful place, and will grow more frightful still when the Devourer of All Things finds a home for his dark thoughts. They are building him a body of meat and cobwebs so he can more easily influence this mundane world he rules.’
‘I thought a god could just snap his fingers and everything happened.’
‘Can you snap your fingers and make a house of bricks and mortar crumble to dust? No, no, and thrice no. You would take a hammer to it. The Devourer of All Things is building his own hammer. There are gods, Master Jack, and gods and gods and gods. But each must follow rules, and not all of them are known. Not even to the Puck, who knows more than most.’
‘Where is this happening?’
‘Somewhere. But not here.’
‘You don’t know.’
Puck grinned. ‘The finding is part of the solving.’
Church cursed under his breath.
‘Follow the Burning Man. He will light your way.’ The sprite vanished again, only to reappear at Church’s shoulder. ‘Light, light, and light. You carry a fire, too, that sears the Enemy and strips the darkness from its heart. It fears that light, like an imp feels good iron, for it cannot exist in its glare.’
‘We know what we’ve got to do. We’re not going to turn away from it.’
‘What courage! What daring!’ The Puck danced. ‘But have you found your own hammer, Master Jack?’
‘Three of us are heading to the Far Lands to find the Extinction Shears.’
Puck clapped his hands. ‘Perhaps a fool should guide them? Yes, a Fool, indeed!’ Another dance, another dark grin that hinted at unspoken things.
‘If you really want to help, tell me how to find the two Keys.’
‘And so to business.’ The sprite bobbed up at Church’s other shoulder. ‘You will not find them along the quiet, winding lanes in the land of your fathers, Master Churchill.’
‘Abroad, then.’
‘One waits in a cold land where rainbows bring the gods to Earth. The other moves across a great nation, hiding in plain sight. But tarry not, Master Jack. Others would find these prizes first.’
‘The Void?’
‘That, and more.’
‘Can’t your kind ever give straight answers?’
‘Aid is always on hand for those in need. Ask the wind and your voice shall be heard.’ He mockingly cupped a hand to his ear. ‘Hark! Is that help arriving now?’
Once the final word had left his mouth, he was gone.
The sound of an approaching train reverberated through the station. It was no normal train. Even in the ticket office the noise was deafening and the vibrations made the entire station shake. Plumes of dust fell from the ceiling.
Church ran for the escalators, knowing instinctively that he had to reach the platform before his last chance departed.
5
Ruth, Shavi and Laura were caught in the glare of the rapidly approaching lights. Whatever it was appeared to be travelling too fast to stop. The shrieking and the music now rang off the walls deafeningly.
Ruth pressed the other two back for fear they would be sucked under the wheels. All they saw was a blur of black and silver, and then there was a scream of brakes and the platform was filled with hissing, billowing steam. A ringing silence followed in its wake.
As the steam cleared, they were presented with a train like none they had ever seen or dreamed. Aspects reminded them of the Victorian royal coach, but there were echoes of an Egyptian funeral barge, with its curlicues and hawk-headed statues; of a Viking ship, with sleek lines and raven motifs; of a Chinese emperor’s carriage; and of entirely alien modes of transport: wings and cupolas, scales and spikes. The body of the vehicle was an unreflecting sable, but the inlay and detail were silver.
All was silent. Ruth, Shavi and Laura strained to see into the darkened interior, but then candles flared into life along every carriage. Monstrous shapes were caught in the flickering half-light.
Slowly, a door swung open to reveal leather seats, brass fittings and an inordinate amount of foliage.
‘They don’t really think we’re going to step in there,’ Laura said.
A grinding came from the front of the train, followed by another hiss of steam. It was preparing to depart.
‘Is it a trap?’ Shavi asked. ‘Or should we board?’
Ruth gripped her spear, unsure.
As the door began to close just as slowly as it had opened, Ruth, Laura and Shavi were propelled into the carriage, and a heavy weight fell on top of them. The door closed behind them with a click and the train began to move off.
‘Get off me, you big, fat lump.’ Laura threw off the weight and saw it was Church. ‘And where’ve you been?’
‘Somewhere near and far away. With Puck.’ He helped Ruth to her feet.
She glanced at Laura. ‘See. Bit of faith.’
Laura snorted.
‘Friends,’ Shavi said, looking down the corridor, ‘we are not alone.’
The carriage was empty apart from a solemn figure. Long, pristine black robes shrouded a skeletal body, and the face, too, was skull-like, with just a few wisps of hair clinging to the desiccated skin that barely covered the bone. The eyes were heavy-lidded and the whites had a sickly yellow tinge. Ruth wrinkled her nose at the graveyard odour coming off him.
‘Welcome,’ he said in a crackling voice, ‘to the Last Train.’
‘That doesn’t sound very good,’ Ruth said.
‘It’s just a name,’ Church replied.
The attendant’s mouth broke into an enigmatic yellow-toothed smile. ‘You may call me Ahken. I am master of this conveyance. All here is given freely and without obligation. Ask of me what you will.’
‘Slight problem — no tickets,’ Laura said. ‘You going to throw us off at the next stop?’
Ahken took Laura’s hand and turned it over. She shuddered at his touch: his bony fingers felt like dry wood. He pointed to the mark of Cernunnos. ‘That will provide passage for all your group, to the end of the line.’
‘What would have happened if that wasn’t there?’ Laura asked.
Ahken continued to smile, but his expression had changed ever so slightly and Laura wished she hadn’t asked the question.
‘I think we’re supposed to be here. Isn’t that right?’ Church asked Ahken.
‘You are here. You are alive,’ Ahken replied, as if that should be answer enough. ‘You may go anywhere within this train, except for the last carriage.’
