gone.
“You couldn’t have hung on a little longer?” I said angrily. “Not for one more question? Like, Where is the bloody Sun King? Where can I find him?”
“Boss,” said Cathy. “You’re shouting at empty air. And freaking us all out. I mean, I’m sure it’s all very therapeutic, but . . .”
“I thought the Entities took the Bar because that was where they intended to break through,” I said. “But I was wrong. I was so sure I’d find the Sun King here, but . . .”
“What did the Bar tell you?” said Cathy.
“Not what I needed to know. Think, think . . . Where is the Sun King, right now? Where would he go, to raise the sun and bring down the Nightside?”
“He needs a weak spot,” said Cathy. “So where’s the oldest place in the Nightside? What’s been here longest, boss?”
“Of course!” I said. “St. Jude’s! That was here before it was a church, before Christianity even got started!”
“Then that’s where he’ll be,” said Cathy.
She was right, of course. The oldest and most powerful spot in the Nightside was also its weakest because it had been around so long. The church is one of the few places on Earth where the physical world can make direct contact with the spiritual world. Could the Sun King use that as a doorway, a way to break in and out? Maybe. Some days, all you can do is wing it.
I didn’t want to go to St. Jude’s; but I couldn’t tell Cathy why. Because Suzie might still be there. I hadn’t told Cathy about Suzie. How could I? But I had to go there. I had to go to St. Jude’s, right now . . . and all I could do was hope that Suzie was somewhere else, hunting me down.
My back twinged briefly, where she’d shot me once, long ago.
I turned abruptly to Dennis. “All right, that’s it. Turned out I didn’t need you after all, Den-Den. Go on back to your club. I think I’ve enjoyed about as much of your company as I can stand.”
“Lots of people say that,” said Dennis. “Glad to have been of service. Be assured I bear no ill will at being dragged out of my wery own bar, hauled half-way across the Nightside, only to find I’m not needed. Perish the thought! I suppose a lift back’s out of the question?”
“What do you think?” I said.
He gave me a look of sleazy dignity. “Your mother knits socks in Hell.”
And he turned and strode away. That’s Den-Den for you. Always knows exactly how far he can push it.
“Boss,” said Cathy. “Your eyes are bleeding.”
I put a hand to my face, and the fingers came away bloody. I could see the blood, but I couldn’t feel it. Cathy handed me a handkerchief, and I mopped roughly at my face till the bleeding stopped. Crying tears of blood was not a good sign. I couldn’t keep on using my gift like this. It was killing me by inches. I offered Cathy her handkerchief back; but she looked at the bloody mess and shook her head quickly. I tucked the handkerchief away in an inside pocket. Not the kind of thing you want to leave lying around, in the Nightside. There’s a lot you can achieve with someone else’s blood, little of it good. When I looked at Cathy again, she was looking at me as though she was already buying the wreath.
“Boss,” said Cathy. “What’s happening to you? You look like shit. You look like death warmed up and allowed to congeal.”
“It’s the gift,” I said, as steadily as I could. “You go to the well too often, you get blood instead of water. I’ll last. I’ve still got things to do.”
“We need to get you back to Strangefellows,” said Cathy. “Alex has all kinds of stuff there that will put you right.”
“No,” I said. “I think I’ve gone beyond anything Alex can help me with. It doesn’t matter. We have to get to St Jude’s. That’s got to be Ground Zero. You don’t have to come with me, Cathy.”
“Yes I do,” she said sturdily. “I’m damned if I’ll let anyone interfere with the wedding preparations for tomorrow. You promised I could be maid of honour, and I’m holding you to it.” She stopped, and looked at me thoughtfully. “Do you suppose . . . the Lord of Thorns will be there?”
“I’m banking on it,” I said. “He’s the only weapon I’ve got left.”
TEN
Truths and Consequences
St. Jude’s is still the only real church in the Nightside, tucked away in an area where nobody goes and a hell of a long way from the Street of the Gods. Because St Jude’s is the real deal. It’s only an old, cold, stone structure, built so long ago no-one remembers when, with featureless grey walls, unmarked by time or weather or the designs of man. No tower, no bell, no crucifix on display, a few slit windows, here and there, and one narrow doorway. St Jude’s isn’t meant to be easy to find or easy to enter. This is a church where you can talk directly with your god, and expect to be heard. And, more worryingly, answered. Dreams can come true, and miracles can happen. So be very careful what you ask for.
I had Cathy park the MINI Cooper some distance away from the church, and after she’d locked it up and armed the defences, we left the car where it was and made our way slowly, and carefully, and hopefully very quietly, down the long, narrow street that led to the church. St. Jude’s stood grim and alone in the moonlight. There was no-one else about, and even the ever-present roar of traffic seemed faded and far-away. As though we had come to a whole new place, where everyone kept their heads down to avoid being noticed. It’s one thing to pray to God when you’re in trouble; it’s quite another to have Him take a personal interest in you.
St. Jude’s stood alone because it liked it that way. It existed in its own small and very private world, and always had.
“You really think the Sun King won’t hear us coming?” said Cathy. “It’s so quiet here you could hear a mouse thinking about farting.”
“Why make it easy for him?” I said. “I’ve reached the stage where I’ll take any advantage I can get my hands on.”
Cathy gave me a sideways look. “You really believe all this living-god crap, boss?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve met powers and dominations in my time, and any number of gods and demons, but the Sun King . . . is something else. When he says he wants to change the world, he’s not being metaphorical. Look how easily he turned the whole of the Nightside against me. Even my mother couldn’t do that during the Lilith War; and she’s a Biblical Myth.”
Even as we drew near St. Jude’s, keeping alert for any sound or sight of the Sun King, I was still keeping a careful watch on Cathy. If she was going to betray me, this would be the perfect time and place. I didn’t want to believe that, didn’t even want to think that; but after Suzie . . . I didn’t know what to believe any more. But all the way up the narrow road, right up to the church itself, Cathy said nothing, did nothing but stick close by my side, ready for anything. I felt ashamed to have doubted her. She always was a better person than me.
We stopped a few yards short and looked the place over. St. Jude’s looked solid and implacable, as always, ancient and immovable, something you could trust and believe in. Not for mercy or compassion, or even justice; St, Jude’s stood for the truth. Because St. Jude’s was the one true thing in an ever-changing world.
“What the hell are you suddenly smiling at?” said Cathy. “If there’s anything funny here, I missed it. This whole location is creeping me out, big-time.”
“St. Jude’s,” I said. “Patron saint of lost causes. How appropriate.”
“You’re weird, boss.”
Strange lights blazed through the slit windows of the old church, stark, unrelenting lights that cut through the surrounding gloom like knives. More of the fierce light shone from the open door; pushing back the night like the glare from an open furnace. You only had to look at the light to know it wasn’t of this world. This was light from Outside, light seen from the other side.
“The Lord of Thorns has got to be here. Hasn’t he?” said Cathy, uneasily. “There’s no way he’d allow anyone to misuse the church.”
