your will, and the strongest can change it all by wishing, lass. Just by wishing. You don't know any of the true rules. The rules you do have are just there to keep you safe, like the bars on that cot I made for you when your mother was in hospital. But you're all so important, and one day, maybe sooner than you think, you're going to break out and see what the universe is really like. And then you'll be in for a fine old time.'
'Sounds like… magic.'
'Aye. Magic. That's just what it is. And it can't come soon enough in my book. Things were going right for a while, and then the wrong sort took over. The ones who only thought about money and power, who'd do anything for it without thinking about the bigger picture and where they fitted into it. The ones who made a mess of the planet… drilling and burning and poisoning, all for money. All for bloody money. They're the ones who drove the Goddess away.'
Mary heard her mother turn on the radio downstairs, then begin to hum away to some golden oldie by Johnny Ray. 'But will she come back again? Can she?'
He examined the stump of one of his missing fingers thoughtfully before pulling a white paper bag of barley sugars from his pocket. He offered her one, and when she unwrapped the cellophane and slipped it into her mouth, she experienced a rush of overwhelming sensation that made stars flash behind her eyes.
'What is this?' she gasped.
'Just a taste of what's out there — if you get up off your bums.' He unwrapped one of the barley sugars himself and sucked on it thoughtfully. 'Can she come back? That's where it's up to you lot to make a change… a big change. In the end, I think it'll probably come down to her daughters. They've been getting back on their feet for a few years now, getting back to their old place, shoulder to shoulder with the blokes.' He leaned forward and gave Mary's knee a squeeze. 'See, lass, you can make a difference.'
Mary shivered. It was almost as if he had seen into her, peeled back all her fears about her weaknesses and her many, many failures. One wasted life; was it too late to put it right? The lump in her throat was hard. 'That's what I'm trying to do.'
'I know.'
'But I wonder if I should have just stayed at home. I don't know if I'm up to it.'
'No one really does. And the few that think they do are usually wrong.'
'I've got a friend, Caitlin Shepherd. She's a good girl, bit of a misery-goat, worrying about everything instead of enjoying life like all good folk should…' She smiled tightly. 'But I suppose we've all got our flaws. Anyway, I want to help her.'
Her grandfather nodded knowingly, waited for her to continue, but Mary sensed he already knew much of what she had to say.
'She's gone in search of a cure for a plague that's come down hard on our world. Only it's not just a plague — it's something magical. I don't know for sure, but I think she's being tricked… I think, maybe, the whole point of it was to get her to cross over to the Otherworld, where she's going to be killed. And I had this vision that she's important. I mean, she's always been important to me, but I think she's important to the world, too — maybe even important in bringing the Goddess back.'
'She's a Sister of Dragons,' her grandfather interjected, and now he looked a little less like her grandfather, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what had changed.
'That's right, dragons! That's what my vision said. And dragons are symbolic of the Earth Spirit, earth energy
'Which is the same energy that flows through humans, too — the spirit that flows through everything.'
'Dragons, snakes, serpents, it's all symbolic. When you think about it like that, the Bible reads very differently — the Garden of Eden, St Michael killing the dragon, St Brendan driving the snakes out of Ireland… and Caitlin is connected to this big, big thing…' The notions came thick and fast, surprising her with their intensity. 'I've got to bring her back. I'll do anything for her. It doesn't matter about me — I'm not important.'
The words ended on an interrogative note and she eyed her grandfather hopefully, but he shook his head slowly. 'I give no guidance here. This is one of those times when your choices are important.'
Mary rubbed a hand through her wiry, grey hair. 'I don't know! How can I know? I'm just going on my gut instinct… and I want to bring her back.'
'Are you sure?' Blue light flickered behind his eyes.
Mary steeled herself. 'Yes. I want to bring her back. Can you do that?'
'Yes. It is done.'
Mary sat back, relieved, and then stood up to go. The radio downstairs was playing 'Alone Again Or' by Love. Her song; how coincidental, although she knew it wasn't a coincidence at all. She leaned forward and kissed her grandfather on the forehead, unbelievably sad that she was leaving him and would never see him again, that she was leaving the family home where she'd been happy for so long; perhaps the last time she had been truly happy. 'Thank you,' she whispered.
But as she pulled back, she caught a change in the cast of his face, and saw concern there, and in that moment she knew she had made the wrong decision. 'No,' she whispered. 'I take it back.'
But she was already moving back through the house, the walls elastic, the light distended, and in her ears were his words: 'We stand or fall by our choices, Mary. That's the important thing.' The trees were even more dense in that part of the forest: oaks that even six men linking hands couldn't encircle; hawthorn, thick and lethally spiky; yew, sprawling and twisted like sour old men. Caitlin pressed between the trunks, picking her way over the mass of root material that obscured most of the forest floor. It was so dark it could well have been night.
'Jack?' It was more of a whisper than a call, but it rustled out through the still air beneath the branches. She didn't sense the growing army of the Lament-Brood anywhere near at hand, but other threats lurked in the shadowy depths of the Forest of the Night and she didn't want to draw attention to herself.
There was no longer any sign of movement, but it was possible that Jack, if it had been him, had already slipped by her in the confusion of tree and branch. She stopped, listened; the crunch of a foot on dry twigs echoed, but the mass of trees distorted the sound and made it impossible to pinpoint the location.
As she pressed by one tree, she thought she heard a barely audible voice issuing from deep within the wood; to her ears it struck a warning note, but she dismissed it as her overworked imagination responding to her anxiety.
The trees were like a maze and Caitlin began to worry that she wouldn't be able to find her way back to the path and Carlton. Perhaps it would be better to wait there. If the others had heard Triathus, they would all be trying to find the path anyway.
Carefully, she retraced her steps. When she did finally get a view of the path, it was much further away than she had anticipated. She could just make out Carlton, tiny and alone and in desperate need of her. She resisted the urge to call out to reassure him.
A movement sounded in the trees nearby. Her senses tingled. Perhaps it wasn't Jack at all. Just like the Gehennis, something could have tried to lure her off the safety of the path. Carefully, she unslung her bow. Another twig cracking. Near or far? Was it stalking her? Waiting for a chance to attack when her defences were lowered? She dropped low, moved cautiously at first, then speeded up, dodging lithely amongst the trees, heading for the path. And then she had the strangest buzzing sensation in the tips of her fingers, before it moved up her forearms with a feeling of deep warmth. She felt oddly out of sorts, as if she'd spun round on the spot too many times. A bolt of light shot across her vision.
She fought the disorientation and tried to focus on any signs of whoever was nearby. Carlton appeared in a space between two trees. He looked frightened. She had to get to to him, to protect him.
Another bolt of light arced across her vision, and she felt as if she were unravelling, the cords that bound her together peeling back from fingertips to toes. An uncomfortable feeling of detachment descended on her. She felt as if she was watching the surroundings through a bubble of glass.
The other, near or far, near or far? She looked, looked, and saw, but not near at all. The shape flitted through the trees near the path with lethal purpose. It wasn't after her at all.
Desperation and horror burst in her mind. Carlton was turning; he'd heard a noise.
Caitlin threw herself forward with wild urgency, struggling with her bow, trying to notch an arrow. But her reactions were too slow, and she was all over the place, as though drunk. She felt herself slipping away and the figure, indistinct but quick and dangerous, was almost on Carlton now. The boy was looking up into a face, smiling.
