'When I heard about the old gods returning, I never imagined them to be quite like you, Triathus. You're gentler than I expected. Where are all the flashing lights and displays of power that terrified the Celts?'
'Though we like to think of ourselves as immutable, we — some of us — were different in the days of which you speak, Sister of Dragons.'
He placed one hand on each side of her head. She flinched at first, but his gentle nature calmed her. His fingers felt cool, but deep within them something crackled like electricity. 'You have suffered greatly,' he began. 'High tragedy. Yet you continue to strive for the good of others.' Caitlin felt a soft movement in the back of her head, as if his fingers were probing there. 'The Broken Woman,' he mused. 'Shattered, yet still whole.' His expression changed. 'Something else lies there… hiding.' He snatched his hands away; Caitlin felt a sucking sensation inside her head.
'What is it?'
'I do not know. I sensed…' He pondered, then made a dismissive gesture. 'Perhaps it is nothing.'
'I don't envy you probing around in my mind. I know… I know I'm not well.'
'You make a misjudgment common to your kind,' Triathus said. 'There is no one way of being, no singular way of seeing the world. Your spirit has made your… mind how you need to be for this moment, to survive, to win.'
'That's nice of you to say, but it still doesn't feel right.'
'In the old tribes, the Fragile Creatures who first welcomed us to your world, their wise men and magicians often had an altered perception of Existence-'
'They were all mad, too.'
'Words… meaningless. Everything without you is a mystery and everything within, too. Worlds upon worlds upon worlds — no view is the same.'
Caitlin peered into the depths of Triathus' shimmering face. He appeared to be trying to tell her something important, but she couldn't quite grasp the essence of it. 'Anyway, I'm learning to deal with it. Carlton's the saving of me. I feel a bond with him. If he hadn't been around, I don't know what…' She became aware of Mahalia standing in the shadows nearby, listening. Caitlin turned to tell the girl not to eavesdrop, but Mahalia had already melted away into the moonshadows washing across the deck. Strange white faces appeared amongst the trees when the boat drifted close to either shore. It was not the Gehennis, but other, even more disturbing denizens of the Other- world, stirring from their alien dreams to see what unusual beings had been washed up at their homes. They came and went before their true appearances became clear, leaving their motivations undivined. No one could bring themselves to look at them for too long. It was deep in the middle of the night when Caitlin stirred from a shallow sleep. A silent calling ushered her to the rail; there was some activity on the riverbank that she had to see.
For the first time the forest was still, and briefly she wondered if she was just acting out a dream. But then there was a sudden burst of blue lightning and a smell of electrical generators. Sparks fizzed out into the water, and within the display Caitlin saw a figure. It was the knight with the boar's-head helmet, watching her passage.
Her heart fell. Surely he should have been left far behind. How could he be there?
The light display continued until the boat had passed, and then winked out. The knight was either gone or lost to the dark.
Caitlin had started to think that the knight was her burden alone; certainly she had a sense that he had no interest at all in the others. With that notion came another more disturbing impression. She had thought that she was on a journey to save humanity; a glorious mission. Perhaps it wasn't that at all. Perhaps she was on a road to hell and the knight was there to ensure that she reached her destination.
Sleep proved elusive on the heels of such morbid thoughts. Sunlight dappled the deck, shimmering through dancing shadows cast by branches and leaves. Triathus stood at the helm, proud and erect, as if he had not moved all night. Caitlin stretched and yawned, driving out her disturbing thoughts of the previous night. Matt slept nearby, his face untroubled. It left Caitlin with a deep yearning; she couldn't remember the last time she had been like that. Mahalia, too, looked at ease with her head resting on Jack's shoulder. She had her arms tightly around Carlton as though afraid someone would steal him in the night. Crowther was nowhere to be seen.
Caitlin made her way to Triathus, who nodded politely when he saw her. 'Where's the professor?' she asked huskily.
'Making breakfast for you in the galley. He did not sleep well. There is much that troubles him.'
'Hardly surprising. He thought he could run and hide from all the world's problems, and his own. Now he's discovered you can't do that.'
'He should be content. He has taken another step along the path of wisdom.'
Caitlin surveyed the river. It had grown narrower during the night and now the banks were only an arrow's flight apart. On either side, the trees rose up for almost forty feet in an impenetrable wall of twisted branch and gnarled, protruding root. Occasionally, spaces would appear, allowing her a glimpse of green hills and, in the distance, misty purple mountains. It was an epic landscape of awe and wonder.
In one of those gaps, her attention was caught by crumbling stone ruins on a distant hilltop. Though distant, she could tell that they were incredibly ancient, the stone shattered by the years, festooned with ivy. 'What is that?' she asked Triathus. 'A memory. This is an ancient land, older than the Fixed Lands, almost as old as Existence. My people like to think of themselves as a pure part of Everything — the first and last and only. But in truth we know there were others before us. We are simply the last generation of gods. Before us came the builders of great stone cities, erected in such a way that they resembled mighty cliffs, part of nature itself — in the tops of trees, beneath the waters, in the dark crevices beneath the earth. Before us came the fighters of great battles that laid waste to the Far Lands, so that no green thing grew and only smoke drifted across the burned and blackened realm. Before us came the great monsters, the devils, the avatars of the Void. There are even tales sung by the filid of Fragile Creatures who once had a great civilisation here in the times before time. The echoes of all those races still ring out across the Far Lands, in stories, mysterious ruins, artefacts of great power, wisdom — to which my people have laid claim, but which come from long before us. Only one thing has remained unchanged, throughout all the ages: the Fabulous Beasts — not beasts at all, but messengers of Existence.'
'What happened to those people?'
Triathus looked thoughtful. 'They moved on.' His gesture suggested that they still existed, somewhere.
'And so my people came here to take their place, from four wondrous cities of the Northland — Falias, Gorias, Finias and Murias. Forced to wander, always searching, never finding. Yet we always carry with us memories of that happy home, when we were part of Existence and all was right. And the twenty great courts were established, and our reign of power began. And the Far Lands were shaped to our thinking, and everything became as you see around you.'
Caitlin rested on the rail, enjoying the fresh, cold scent of the river and the way the sunlight flashed across her face. 'It's a beautiful place — but dangerous, too.' 'Like my people.' He brought his hand sharply to his forehead as if afflicted by a sudden pain, but the mood quickly passed. 'We know from our observations of Existence that there is a season to everything. Death in winter. New shoots in spring. The cycles continue eternally, but nothing lasts for ever. The Golden Ones will be supplanted… and Fragile Creatures will take our place. That is clear, yet the other side refuse to accept it, as if the sound of their voices could drive Existence back. There is an arrogance to my people, an arrogance that afflicts all who remain in power for too long. But the truth will emerge, in time, and the seasons will continue to change.' There was a sadness to his voice that affected Caitlin deeply. He could see the good times fading, yet somehow he accepted it with equanimity. Matt was enjoying the peaceful morning at the rail when Mahalia eased her way out from between the sleeping Jack and Carlton and came over. This attempt at sociability was suspicious enough, but her fresh features couldn't contain her uneasiness. 'Can I ask you something?' she asked. Matt surveyed her, and in that unguarded moment he could see all her innocent fears. 'Sure. What's up?' 'You and Caitlin get on all right. I mean, I've seen you both. I know you fancy her, and I reckon she fancies you as well.' 'You don't know what you're talking about.' She made a dismissive gesture. 'Whatever. I just need to know what's going through her head.' Matt saw her furtive glance back at Carlton. 'What exactly do you need to know?' 'What's the deal with her and Carlton? She's always crawling round him. What does she want with him?' Matt chose his words carefully. 'Caitlin's suffered a great tragedy. She's lost her only son-' 'And she wants Carlton to take his place?' The edge to Mahalia's voice suggested Matt had touched a nerve. 'In a way. He's a surrogate, I suppose… filling that hole she's got inside her.' Mahalia's jaw set. 'She's not going to take him away from me.' 'You shouldn't think of it like that-' 'You don't understand. Carlton's all I've got. Everybody else walked out
