Shavi leaned forward. 'The Tuatha De Danann, certainly at their highest level, seem almost omnipotent. Can we ask them to help us?'
'You didn't see Dian Cecht.' The contempt in Church's voice was clear. 'The Fomorii are corrupting in their eyes, and Balor is the ultimate corruption. They're not prepared to get their pristine hands dirty, even if they could do something.'
'They're like a bunch of toffs telling the labourers what to do,' Veitch said venomously.
Laura had been watching Tom closely while the others spoke. He had been drawing on his joint, inspecting the hot ashes at the end, as if he wasn't really listening. 'You've got something in mind, haven't you?'
Tom seemed not to hear her, either, but the others all turned to him. 'The Tuatha De Danann will not be able to destroy Balor's essence in its current form unless the medium for the rebirth is destroyed,' he began. 'But, as Shavi said, their abilities are wide ranging. It is possible they may be able to do something to help. I've seen some of the wonders they can perform…' His voice faded; he bit his bottom lip.
'How are we going to get them to help us?' Church said. 'They don't want anything to do with anyone who's been touched by the Fomorii.'
'I may be able to help.' Tom drew on the joint insistently; it was obviously no longer about enjoying the effect or using it for some kind of consciousnessraising-he was trying to anaesthetise himself. 'You recall around the campfire in the Allen Gorge, Cormorel told me my Queen had returned to her court?'
'She was the one who first took you into Otherworld,' Church said. Whose immense power had taken Tom's body and consciousness apart and reassembled it, who had treated Tom like a toy in the hands of a spoilt but curious brat, his torment so great his mind had almost shattered. And the woman he had grown to love in his captivity and suffering. Church shivered.
'The Faerie Queen, humans called her. She was also known as the Great Goddess by the older races, and a legion of other names.'
'So, she's, like, a bigshot?' Veitch said. 'The Queen.'
'There are many queens among the Tuatha De Danann, all with their own courts, although that term is about as relevant as any other when discussing them. But, yes, she is higher than most.'
'And you think she will help?' Church asked, watching Tom carefully for the truth behind his words.
The Rhymer smiled tightly. 'How could she not when her pet returns, rolls over and asks so nicely?'
The bitterness in his voice stung them all. Church knew what a sacrifice Tom would be making; after both the agonies and the crushing blow to his ego, to put himself at risk of facing it all again was more than anyone should be expected to do.
Ruth recognised it too, for there were tears rimming her eyes. She wiped them away, stared at the ground desolately.
'There is no guarantee that she can help, though?' Shavi asked.
Tom raised his hands. 'There are never any guarantees.'
'Then we should have an alternative plan.' Shavi rested a comforting hand on Ruth's back; she shivered, seemed to draw strength from it. 'We already have patrons among the Tuatha De Danann. Niamh-'
'I don't think I can ask her for any more help. She's trying to sort out Maponus,' Church said; but he had a pang of guilt knowing that he was afraid to approach her after failing to end his relationship with Laura.
'More importantly,' Shavi continued unfazed, 'there is Cernunnos. Ruth saved him from the control of the Fomorii. Now she is in difficulty, perhaps he will return the favour.'
'Yes.' Ruth's eyes grew wide. 'He said the Green was inside me.' She struggled to remember his exact words. 'He said in the harshest times, you may call for my aid. Seek me out in my Green Home.'
'That's it, then!' Veitch said excitedly. 'Plan A and Plan B. One of 'em's got to work!'
'We have to be wary not to get too in debt to any of the Tuatha De Danann.' The weight in Tom's words gave them all pause.
'This is a desperate situation,' Church said. 'We have to take risks.'
'I know,' Tom said. 'But you have to be aware there is always a price to pay, and that price may be very high indeed. Do not go into this blindly.'
'Then what's the plan? How do we get to these freaks?' Veitch had latched on to the suggestions with the simple hope of a child; the brightness of relief lit his face.
Tom cursed under his breath. 'I think a good starting point would be for you to learn how to treat them with respect. If you open your mouth like that you won't have a second chance to speak.'
'Right.' Veitch looked suitably chastened.
'The Queen's court is accessed under Tom-na-hurich, the Hill of Yews, in Inverness,' Tom said. 'It will be a long, difficult journey, so I propose to set off at sunrise-
'You're not going alone.' Church didn't leave any room for debate in his tone, but he was still surprised when Tom didn't argue. Church quickly looked round the others, then stopped at Veitch. 'Ryan, you had better go with him. We can't risk the Queen hanging on to him. There needs to be someone to bring back the goods in an emergency.' He hated speaking so baldly, but he could see Tom knew exactly what the potential risks were.
'Not back up to Scotland,' Veitch moaned. 'We've only just scarpered from there.'
'What about Cernunnos?' Ruth asked. 'Where's this Green Home?'
'Cernunnos has been most closely linked with the site of the Great Oak in Windsor Park,' Tom said. 'The oak is no longer there, but the god is rumoured to appear at the spot which was the prime centre of his worship in antiquity. They say,' Tom added, 'he appears there most at times of national crisis.'
'I remember,' Church mused, 'another legend linked to that site. About Herne the Hunter.'
Ruth nodded. 'Cernunnos said that was one of the names by which he was known.'
'The legends say Herne was a Royal huntsman who saved a king's life by throwing himself in front of a wounded stag that was threatening to kill his master,' Tom said. 'As Herne lay dying, a magician appeared who told the king the only way he could save his huntsman's life was to cut off the stag's antlers and tie them to Herne's head. He recovered and became the best huntsman in the land. But he was so favoured by the king, the other huntsmen, overcome by jealousy, eventually persuaded the king to dismiss him. Herne was so broken by this he went out and hanged himself. And the king never had the same kind of success in his Royal hunts.'
Shavi mused over this story for a moment, then said, 'I feel that legend is more metaphor than fact.'
Tom agreed. 'There is secret information in all these stories that has the power to survive down the years. That one tells of how the people turned their back on the resurrective and empowering force of nature, how they suffered for it, and how nature suffered too. It was a warning, albeit a gentle one, compared with some of the legends.
'You see,' he continued, as if the information buried under centuries of experience in his mind was starting to come out in a rush, 'Cernunnos and his bright, other half are, if you will, the bridge between the Tuatha De Danann and the natural power of this world. In many ways, they are closer to us than they are to their own. It was a joining that happened in the earliest times, when the two gods pledged themselves to this world and, in doing so, the best interests of the people.'
'You'd be good for this one, Shavi,' Church said. 'You're the shaman. You've developed all those links to nature. You should be able to communicate with Cernunnos.'
Church felt Laura shift next to him and he knew exactly what she was thinking: Cernunnos had put his mark on her too; Ruth obviously wasn't in any condition to undertake the journey, but as a favoured of Cernunnos, Laura would have been a natural choice. Church hadn't chosen her because he felt she wasn't up to the task, couldn't be trusted with something so important; and she knew exactly what his reasons were. He felt a pang of guilt at hurting her, but he had to focus on the best interests of the group.
'When I get to the park, how do I contact Cernunnos?' Shavi asked.
'There is a story I recall from my long walk around the world in the sixties,' Tom replied. 'In 1962 a group of teenagers found a hunting horn in the forest on the edge of a clearing. They blew it and were instantly answered by another horn and the baying of hounds. It was Cernunnos and the Wild Hunt, with the wish hounds. The boys fled in fear.'
'And the Hunt, I presume, did not depart until they claimed a life,' Shavi noted darkly. 'A price to pay indeed.'
'Perhaps he won't appear in that form,' Ruth suggested hopefully.
Shavi shrugged. 'Then I seek out the horn.'
