way her eyes crinkled, her face innocently lit up. In that moment it was hard to see her as one of a race so alien they treated people with oblique contempt. 'I have seen you grow, Jack. I was there, in the half-light, the moment you were born. I saw your potential take shape, your good heart grow stronger. I stood a whisper away the first time you cried from hurt emotion. I saw you develop decency and honesty and love for your fellow man. I saw you suffer broken hearts, and persevere even at that terrible point when you felt your world was coming to an end. And you came through, Jack. You became the best you could be. So few Fragile Creatures can say that. And I was there in every moment, so much a part of your life in the highs and the lows that I knew every secret thought, every half-wish and barely remembered dream. I was a part of you, Jack. No one knows you better. No one.' There was almost a pleading quality to her voice.
'But I don't know you.'
'No. No, you do not.' And now sadness, so fragilely potent he almost felt it. She looked away briefly, too much going on behind her eyes for him to see.
'What is it you are saying, Niamh?'
'There is nothing I can say. I merely reveal to you the slightest fragment of the minutest strand of my feelings. Our races are as far apart as Otherworld and here. And as close. No good has ever come of any bond forged between the two. One passes so quickly, the other goes on forever, both are bound in tears.'
Her voice filled him with a deep melancholy. For the first time, in her eyes, in her body language, the way she held her mouth, he could see how deeply she felt for him and it was monumentally shocking. To be loved so much and not know it was astounding, and truly moving, to such a degree he felt he should seek deep within him to see if there was any way he could repay such a profound investment. But all he found inside was confusion. He thought of Laura and the desperate scramble of emotions he felt around her. And, oddly, Ruth, whom he thought he considered a friend, but when he attempted to examine his emotional response he found it was too complex and deep-seated. And now this woman, who was so open and honest, she was like a cool desert oasis he wanted to dive into and slough off all the corruption that had mired him over the weeks and years.
'I don't know how I feel,' he said honestly.
'You are fortunate.' More sadness. 'To know and not to have is the hardest thing.'
He tried to find something comforting to say, but nothing came.
She looked around, at the rolling summer fields, and some of the sadness eked away. 'This world is changing. Soon it will be a land of myth once more, where magic lives in every turn.' She turned back to him, her smile sweet once again. 'A land where anything can happen.'
He nodded thoughtfully. 'When you put it like that, it doesn't seem such a bad thing.'
'How can I help you, Jack?'
He felt almost guilty asking for something when she had bared her soul to him. But once he had told her about Maponus, and seen her face register surprise, then darken, all other thoughts were wiped away.
'The search for the Good Son has never ended,' she explained. 'The Golden Ones were riven by despair when he was lost, the brightest of all our bright stars, our very hope for the future. There was no knowledge of his disappearance-he was simply there, then not. Of course we must bring him back to us. There will be much rejoicing, scenes of wonder not witnessed since the victory celebrations after the second battle of Magh Tuireadh.' The notion excited her greatly, but gradually her face darkened as the implications of Church's information wormed their way through. 'If he has been so severely damaged by the Night Walkers, there may be little even the Golden Ones can do to restore the Good Son to his former glory. The Night Walkers' revenge is swift, cruel and usually irreversible.'
'But you will attempt to get him back to Otherworld?'
'Of course. He is the jewel of the Golden Ones.' She was positive, yet Church could see she was troubled. 'Yet he is so powerful.' Her voice faded into the wind.
'You're saying even your people might not be able to restrain him?'
'He could cause great destruction to this world. Your people will fall before him like-' she looked around '-like the ripe corn.' She turned to Church with fleeting panic in her eyes. 'You must not go anywhere near the Good Son. Do you understand?'
'At the moment I'm going where I'm called. We have an obligation-'
'You have an obligation to defend this world. You cannot do that if you are no more.'
'I'm asking you for help.' He looked her directly in the eye; her irises seemed to swirl with golden fire.
'Then I will help. But I ask something of you in return.'
'All right.'
'A chance to show you my heart, to prove that universes can be crossed. To show that the love of a Golden One and a Frail Creature can surmount all obstacles.'
Church searched her face; suddenly events seemed to be running away from him.
'I know you have a dalliance with another Frail Creature. You must end it. You must give your love solely to me for a period. A chance, that is all I ask. And if our romance does not rise up to the heavens, then we will go our separate ways.'
Dismally, Church thought of Laura, how much it would hurt her. Could he do that when there was still a chance they were right for each other? Could he hurt her, knowing how much she would suffer? And once more he thought of Ruth, and wondered what she would think of him. Niamh was watching the play of his thoughts with innocent, sensitive eyes.
He wondered why he was even bothering to deliberate; there was no real choice. He couldn't afford to let Shavi leave. And if he could do anything to stop Maponus's rampage, he had to try. He had learned through bitter experience over the last three months that he couldn't put his own feelings first; that was the burden of his leadership. Sacrifices had to be made. Always. 'Okay,' he said. 'I'll do what you say.'
The sudden swell of emotion in her face surprised him, and in that instant he wondered if he really could feel something for her. She took his hand, an act that to her was obviously filled with meaning; it was as if she was some Victorian heroine whose every gesture was infused with import to make up for her stifled emotion. 'Much deliberation will need to take place if we are to bring Maponus back with us,' she said. 'I will need to devote myself to the planning and to attending my brethren in this. You will not see me for a while. But then…' Her cool fingers grew tighter around his hand and her smile deepened. She nodded politely, stood up and walked slowly away. Briefly she turned and flashed him a smile weighted with emotion, and then she was gone in the blink of an eye, as if the sky had folded around her.
Laura and Veitch didn't quite know how they ended up interviewing villagers together, but they managed to do it with as little communication between the two of them as they could manage. If anything, Veitch seemed to Laura a little contrite in his body language and whatever gruff comments he made, but after his rage in the gorge, she wasn't taking any chances. She was thankful for her sunglasses which hid the fear she knew was flickering in her eyes.
Eventually, though, they found themselves walking alone down the sundrenched High Street and there was nothing for it but to make conversation. 'Nothing new there, then.' Laura broke the silence, stating the obvious because she couldn't think of anything else to say that wasn't heavy with all sorts of difficulties. 'Another morning of my life wasted.'
Veitch grunted. His own cheap sunglasses gave nothing away.
Laura was suddenly struck by the absurdity of the image. 'Look at us. It's like Tarantino meets Enanerdale.' That brought a smile to him. It was only a chink, but she felt she had to give it a shot. 'About the other day-'
'I'm sorry, all right.' It was as if someone had pulled the blinds down on his face. 'I've got a bleedin' awful temper and half the time I can't control it. I don't know where it came from. I never used to have it.'
'Stress, probably. But that wasn't what I wanted to say. You're right for worrying about one of us selling the others down the river. Nobody else seems to worry about it too much, but it's there-can't ignore it. But it's not me, all right? That's what I wanted to say. It's not me. I don't care if you believe me or not, but I've got to say it out loud. I'm a big fuck-up-and I'll deny I said that if you ever bring it up-but I wouldn't screw over any of us in this group.'
Her normal reticence made the honesty in her words palpable. Veitch was taken aback for a moment, but he didn't show it. 'Who do you think it is, then?'
She paused, unsure whether to continue, but it wasn't worth turning back at that point. 'Are you going to bite my head off?'
