suggested numerous other Burning Men stretching out to infinity. They merged, became one — not in this world, but looking over it, and in this Burning Man figures writhed: gods, their features tainted by corrupting lines of inky blackness.
‘They’re being consumed.’ Miller’s voice had an unnatural trance-like tone. ‘Apollo … Ra … all the sun gods. Feeding the fire … the black fire …’
Veitch shook him roughly. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
Dazed, Miller rubbed his eyes. ‘Can’t you feel it? It’s reaching out — across the world … across the worlds …’
The crowd was changing subtly, too. The exuberant mood had dissipated to leave a bleak anxiety that echoed the bitter cold of the night. It was in all the faces around them: smiles fading to reveal deep questions that had no answers; worries; a burden of troubles; an infecting emptiness. The Void.
Veitch looked back over Black Rock City. The shimmering patches of Blue Fire were winking out. The dark became darker still.
‘No,’ Veitch said. ‘Leave them alone. They’re not hurting anyone.’
‘Hal said this was the most dangerous time.’ Ruth looked around the unsettled crowd.
‘Fighting back,’ Miller muttered, dazed. ‘Fighting back.’
Veitch cuffed him round the ear for good measure.
And then, in the non-silent silence of shuffling feet, a chant started, quietly at first, growing louder, like the one that had preceded the burning, except this one was grim and despairing. Veitch struggled to make out the words.
‘What does it mean?’ Ruth asked.
‘What does it mean? What does it mean?’ Miller whined.
Veitch grabbed Miller and Ruth and dragged them out of the crowd. ‘We’re going to nab one of those screwed-up cars and get to the nearest city. And then to New York.’
8
Hunter sat alone with his thoughts in the white marble room. He refused to give in to grief, though every time he thought about Laura and what she meant to him it became the hardest fight of his life. For a while there, he’d thought he might have had a chance of a normal life, but now he could see it was just an illusion. But as he battled with unfamiliar emotions, his analytical military mind began to reach other conclusions, and so he was not surprised when Dian Cecht came to him again.
‘Here in the Court of the Final Word, death is not always the end,’ the god said. ‘We have examined the Sister of Dragons again, and we have plumbed the depths of our knowledge, and we have come to the conclusion that there may be some hope — though very slim — that we may be able to bring your Sister back from the Grim Lands.’
Hunter mustered a faint smile.
‘You are not enthusiastic about this prospect?’
‘I’m an optimistic man. Cliched motto: where there’s life, there’s hope.’
‘Before we continue, I must ask you: what are you prepared to do to ensure that the Sister of Dragons lives?’
‘Anything.’
‘Even give up your own life?’
Yes,’ Hunter said honestly.
Dian Cecht nodded thoughtfully. ‘Then that will be the price. You submit to the Court of the Final Word for exploration and I will return the Sister of Dragons to life.’
‘Exploration.’ Hunter weighed the word. ‘Why do you want me dead?’
‘I do not want you dead as an end in itself. But to excavate the deeply buried secrets of a Brother of Dragons — that would be the greatest thing. Finally to have access to the mysteries of the Pendragon Spirit. What wonders might that open up for my people?’
‘Why don’t you just get what you want from Laura?’
‘She has already been changed by one of my brothers.’
‘Oh, yeah — the plant thing.’
‘We need to divine the secrets of the Pendragon Spirit in its purest form.’
‘Why?’
Dian Cecht hesitated. ‘The Golden Ones, known to your people as the Tuatha De Danann, face a period of coming crisis. The Devourer of All Things leads destruction to our door, and though we are at the centre of Existence and can never be eradicated, what lies beyond is even worse. Stagnation. Decay.’ The words were almost too difficult for him to say. ‘Some say we will even be supplanted by Fragile Creatures.’ He gave Hunter a piercing stare, trying to see how much he knew. ‘The small victories of the Brother of Dragons Jack Churchill have allowed your people to take the first steps towards the next level of Existence. As wondrous as my people are, we lack the Pendragon Spirit.’
‘And you want it.’
‘The sole reason for the existence of the Court of the Final Word is to break down the very stuff of reality, to tear apart the fabric of all living things to find the constant mystery at its core.’
‘You haven’t found it yet.’
‘No.’
‘Perhaps you aren’t meant to find it.’
Dian Cecht’s face was like stone.
‘So let me get this straight. I have to give myself up to you so you can cut me into pieces, break me down into my smallest constituent parts and then rip out my Pendragon Spirit. And I’m guessing that is going to be beyond painful. And in return, Laura gets to live.’
‘That is correct.’
‘I don’t even have to think about it. I told you I was prepared to do anything to bring her back. But you’ve got to give me some time to prepare myself.’
‘Agreed.’
Dian Cecht bowed and left the room, almost unable to contain his triumphal air. Hunter continued to sit with his thoughts for a long while. He had done many bad things in his life, bad things that had brought about a good end, and bad things he was told would bring about a good end, but which appeared to have no discernible impact. But saving Laura’s life was clearly a good thing, for him personally and for life in general, and so it justified the use of any means necessary.
With that thought in his head, he set out to explore the court. Word had already filtered out of his impending sacrifice. Wherever he went, he was met with the impassivity reserved for someone already dead. No longer a threat, he was allowed to come and go as he pleased.
In the depths of the court, he saw the abattoir halls where living creatures — many of them blinking, befuddled humans — were broken down into their smallest parts by whirling blades and silver drills, and other implements that he couldn’t comprehend. The screams hurt his ears, and the rich, coppery smell of blood filled the air as it gushed through the network of channels cut into the marble floor.
He witnessed the impressive discoveries that had resulted from the Tuatha De Danann’s investigations into the nature of Existence: three-dimensional maps of reality, doors that opened into other times, other worlds, goggles that could see to infinity or just as far within. He spoke to people who had been given strange, troubling powers by the Tuatha De Danann’s alterations.
And then he made his way to an enormous underground bunker filled with weapons developed as a by- product of Dian Cecht’s questing. Many were beyond his ability to comprehend; some had sickening biological components that squirmed and spoke when he approached. But for someone whose business was killing, others
