moths to dance around them. The Culture threw herbs on the fire in the meeting house, so that heady aromas drifted out across the entire island. And then they began to sing a strange kind of plainsong that was haunting and uplifting in a language Matt, Mahalia and Jack didn't recognise.
As the subtle harmonies wove their spell, sparkles appeared amongst the higher branches, tiny figures on gossamer wings circling down to join in the music with voices that sounded like flutes and oboes.
Mahalia, Jack, Matt and Crowther followed the Culture on a procession through the deep wood, and as they glanced beyond the confines of the island it appeared that sheets of blue light rippled in the air, like the aurora borealis brought down to earth.
For the first time that day, Mahalia felt soothed. She had honestly never experienced emotions so raw in her life and she had no real concept of where they had come from, or what was happening to her.
The procession ended in a clearing. Ancient stones were interspersed between the oak trees that formed the circle in which they all stood. Overhead, the full moon shone down upon them, the light so brilliant and white that it flung sharp shadows across the grass. 'There is magic in the air,' Matthias intoned, 'as there was in the old days, when we met in our sacred groves beneath a star-sprinkled sky, the winds filled with summer warmth and the echoes of the beyond all around.' He smiled warmly. 'I have spoken to our brother from across the Great Divide' — he indicated Matt, who had been locked in conversation with Matthias for the past two hours — 'and it appears this is indeed the Great Time foretold for millennia. The time of change, of suffering and misery, but ultimately of rising and advancing to the ultimate heights, for no great thing can be achieved without great sacrifice. There is a Rule of Balance in the universe. We must not bow our heads in despair, for the Golden Age is near.'
For the first time in many hours, Crowther moved of his own accord and sat down in the centre of the clearing, his masked head dropping into his hands. Mahalia wondered if he could hear Matthias' words.
Matthias turned to face the four cardinal points, slowly swinging a censer filled with a fragrant incense. It brought images to life in Mahalia's mind, so vivid she was convinced they were being played out in the centre of the clearing; and perhaps they were.
She saw Britain as she had known it, the teeming cities, the railways, the car-jammed motorways, the swarming people engaging with technology. And then the light source changed, as if the sun had quickly passed over, switching shadows from one direction to another. And with it came golden magical beings, some on horseback, some striding purposefully across the land. 'In the days of the tribes, they were known as the Tuatha De Danann,' Matthias said. 'They are the Golden Ones, who made their home here in Tir n'a n'Og but always had a desire for our world. They hated mortals, yet loved them at the same time. They wanted to deny us and wanted to be us, but in their great power and their wilful contempt for all things they were a force for destruction. With them came their enemies, the monstrous Fomorii, shadows doing the bidding of their lord, Balor, the one- eyed god of death.'
Mahalia saw a darkness, like oil, rush across the land as the golden Tuatha De Danann did battle with the Fomorii. Cities were laid waste, hundreds of thousands died, technology failed. The country was brought to its knees. This, then, was how the Fall had happened. Why didn't anybody seem to know the true cause? Had the authorities insisted on keeping it from the people until the very bitter end?
'This great battle, this devastation, was predicted after the first such conflict between the two forces, in the time of the tribes: the second battle of Magh Tuireadh, when Balor was slain, only to be reborn.' Mahalia could tell Matthias was passing on this information for their benefit. A more brutal battle played out before her across an ancient landscape. 'In those long-gone times, the order of Brothers and Sisters of Dragons was founded, to prepare for the second coming of the gods and what was to follow. Indeed, the champions played a significant part in the defeat of the Tuatha De Danann and the Fomorii.'
Now Mahalia saw five people: a man with long, dark hair, too serious by far; a tall woman, strong and proud; another woman with spiky blonde hair; an Asian man with sensitive features; a good-looking but hard-faced man whose torso was covered with tattoos. She had the feeling she knew the five, and then realised she had glimpsed them in the flickering blue light at the Rollrights just before she had crossed over to the Otherworld.
'Who are they?' she whispered to herself.
'Their leader was Jack Churchill, Jack, the Giant-Killer, known as Church, who departed across the seas of time to await the day when he would once more be needed,' Matthias intoned. 'The King across the Great Water. The Sleeping King. Call him back! Blow the horn loudly! For that day has come round!'
Matthias raised his arms above his head and blue sparks flashed between his hands. There was a corresponding rumble that shook the ground beneath Mahalia's feet, and a splashing of water away in the marshes. A ripple of emotion moved through the members of the Culture.
'What was that?' Mahalia asked uneasily.
Matthias looked directly at her. 'In Britain's darkest hour, a hero shall arise… The return of the gods and the war between them was only the first part of the prophecy. The struggle brought about changes in Existence… and humanity was noticed.'
Mahalia shivered at the strange choice of words.
'On the edge of the universe, something has stirred. It moves this way… the Void!'
'What is the Void?' Mahalia whispered.
'It is said that in the true place of the dead — the Grey Lands — there is a temple. What do the dissolute dead worship?' Matthias nodded gravely. 'It exists beyond the light of the farthest star. It has abided, in dreamless sleep. But now it has awoken, and we have been noticed. It is unfathomable, immeasurable. It is nothing… and everything. The greatest, and the least. Power, and the absence of power. It is the opposite of life. The absence of all that is and could ever be.'
Mahalia had the impression of something as big as a galaxy rushing towards her, but her mind couldn't begin to encompass its form. She felt utter emptiness, a sensation of not having existed and never existing; nothing existing.
'Anti-Life,' Matt said under his breath. 'Is the Void responsible for the plague back home?'
'There are things that prepare the way for the coming of the Void… outriders, I suppose you could call them,' Matthias said. 'They will do anything to destroy the Blue Fire — and its champions.'
There was movement beyond the wall of trees. Something large was circling the island; occasionally Mahalia glimpsed its bulk flashing past through gaps in the vegetation.
In her dream-state, Mahalia saw a black, misshapen monstrosity attempt to kill a man with a sword in front of a gothic cathedral. And then the Lament-Brood appeared in their purple mist, looking so real that Mahalia threw herself back involuntarily. 'They are despair incarnate,' Matthias continued. 'They are life without hope. If the Void eats the world, humanity will never reach the answer that waits beyond the edge of the prophecy: the Golden Age, the time when we can prepare to take our place alongside the gods.'
'How could anyone stop something like that?' Mahalia was crushed by what she had seen.
Matthias strode up to her so forcefully that Mahalia was sure he knew she had tried to kill Caitlin, but at the last he softened. 'There are secret rules that lie behind the structure of Existence. We all know them in our hearts, but we never trust ourselves. There are universal rules — morality is embedded into the very stuff of reality. And so is love. And with those two things we can find hope. We must place our faith in the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, as we did all those ages ago, for they represent the most wonderful, most powerful force of all. See!'
He raised his arm and gestured beyond the island. Now the thing that was circling had risen above the tree- tops and Mahalia could see it for the first time. It moved on heavy leathern wings, serpentine, its tail lashing the air, its jewelled scales glinting. It was like a comet blazing across the night sky, with the Blue Fire trailing behind it. To Mahalia, it appeared as if it were made completely of the spirit-energy, for she thought she could see through the skin to the bones and organs beneath, and through them, too; it was the Blue Fire given form, not a living thing at all.
'The First,' Matthias said. 'The closest to the Source. It came with us, to hide here, too, so that if all the other Fabulous Beasts were slain, if the Blue Fire itself was close to extinction, there would still be hope.'
'But if Caitlin is dead…' Mahalia began desperately.
Matthias placed a loving hand on her forehead. 'Failure will come if we allow despair into our hearts, if humanity once again fights against itself. What I said earlier, I say again: we are our own enemies. We have stopped ourselves from rising in the past. Shall we do it again?'
Mahalia felt sick. A prophecy as old as time. Pieces of a puzzle falling into place across millennia, leading up to the next stage of evolution of humanity; the greatest stage of all. And she had destroyed it in one instant,
