'Do not feel you have to ask anything of me, Jack. I do what I do freely because I believe in the rightness of this course. And I believe in you.' She looked down at where her slim, cool hand still lay in his. 'You have changed my existence, Jack. And to one of the Golden Ones, who are as constant as the stars, that is a humbling and profound thing.'
'I don't see how I could have, Niamh,' he protested. 'I'm nothing out of the ordinary.'
She leaned forward to kiss him gently on the cheek. 'Things are coming to a head, Jack. All will be made clear soon.'
Her smile was filled with such deep love he was left floundering. She turned and drifted away amongst the frantic activity of the crew, an oasis of calm and dignity.
The ship hove to soon after and made its way into the Estuary. Though it still remained a tranquil place, the strain on all who sailed was apparent. Tom rejoined Church at the prow, looking around nervously. 'Now if we can get to that pep talk without any interruptions from that old curmudgeon…' He pointed to the makeshift rucksack hanging from Church's shoulder. 'You have the Wayfinder?'
Church removed the old lantern with the flickering blue flame that had guided him through the earliest days of the mystery to show him. 'But I don't know what use it's going to be. I was thinking of leaving it here. I don't want to be carrying any more weight than necessary.'
Tom shook his head furiously. 'There is still one talisman to find.' His smile suggested this was another long- kept secret he was relieved to be revealing. 'The biggest one of all.'
'Where is it?'
'Somewhere near our destination. You recall when we summoned the Celtic dead for guidance in Scotland? They said: You must find the Luck of the Land if you are ever to unleash the true power of the people.'
'Yes,' Church said suspiciously, 'and you said you had no idea what they were talking about.'
'At that exact moment, I did not. But it came to me soon after. There was only one thing it could be.'
Church bared his teeth. 'And you didn't see fit to tell me until now?'
Tom shrugged dismissively. 'The time was not right.'
'Tom… '
'All right,' he snapped. 'I wanted only you to know. And I left it to this late stage because I did not want you to confide in any of the others, as you undoubtedly would have done with your various romantic liaisons,' he added sniffily. 'And then it would have been all over the place.'
'All right. No need to act like my granddad.'
'It is my role to be-'
'All right, all right! What is the bloody Luck of the Land?'
'The Luck of the Land is the severed head of Bran the Blessed. He was a great hero, and the closest of the Golden Ones to humanity. He knew about the destiny of the Fragile Creatures and he was even prepared to sacrifice himself to see us achieve it. The old stories tell how he was murdered by a poisoned arrow. On his deathbed, he told his followers to cut off his head, yet even removed, it could still eat and talk. It was brought back to London and buried beneath the Tower, where it became the source of the land's power. Of humanity's power. Another myth said King Arthur sought it out as the source of his own strength. You can see the symbolism.'
'So it's linked directly to the Blue Fire? That's what all the Arthur myths mean, isn't it?'
'Correct.'
Church looked out at the quiet, dead countryside that bordered the river. 'But what can it do?'
'The Celts revered severed heads, believing them to have great magical power. In their view, the head is the source of the soul. They knew the truth at the heart of this legend. And don't forget…'
'… myths and legends are the secret history of the land. I'll be happy when I don't hear that phrase again.'
'The head has great power, both in real terms, and symbolically. It encompasses everything you have discovered about the Blue Fire.'
'So, in the day and a half we have left, we have to avoid Balor and about a million Fomorii in the heart of their power, locate this head somewhere under the Tower of London-like it's going to be just lying around ready to be picked up-and then find some way to use it or activate it or whatever the hell you're supposed to do with it?'
'Well, you didn't expect it to be easy, did you?' Tom said curtly. 'If you only had to waltz in there and chop off a head or two they could have got anyone to do it.'
'I'll take that as a vote of confidence,' Church said moodily.
All that remained of the Thames Barrier flood defence system were columns of concrete and twisted steel jutting out of the slow-moving water. It looked as if it had been smashed into pieces by a giant fist. The rubble just beneath the surface formed a treacherous defence that would have sunk most ships coming up the river, but Manannan's magical skill picked the only path through. It slowed them down a little, but they were still on course to be in the heart of London by noon.
As they progressed further into the eastern fringes of the capital, the mood on Wave Sweeper darkened considerably. The pleasant sunshine was soon blocked out by continually rolling black clouds whipped by the powerful winds circulating the city. It brought the temperature down several degrees while adding a permanent gloom to the cityscape. Vast swathes of southeast London were burning, bringing huge clouds of smoke rolling across the river. Church fastened a scarf across his mouth, but the foul smell of charred plastics and rubber still stung his throat.
As he saw the city up close for the first time, Church thought of all the people he knew who lived there, his old friends, like Dale, who had done so much to try to lift his spirits in the dark weeks after Marianne's death. Had they survived? Had they suffered? It was too depressing to consider, and he was almost pleased when Tom grunted, 'Not as bad as the Great Fire.'
'Things always were better in the good old days, weren't they?'
The ship suddenly lurched dramatically to the starboard. Church gripped the rail to avoid being thrown into the grey waters. A second later it was swinging back the other way. 'What's going on?' he shouted over the wild activity that had erupted on deck. The crew struggled to restrain any item that wasn't lashed down, while Manannan fought with the wheel to keep Wave Sweeper steady.
Tom pointed into the water further upstream. A black, sinuous shape stitched white surf into boiling water.
'Their guard dog,' Tom said.
'Dogs,' Church corrected. Two more serpentine shapes rolled in the waves. Their attacks were throwing up so much backwash the ship was buffeted back and forth. They were tiny compared to the monster that had attempted to sink Wave Sweeper in Otherworld, but their speed and random, darting movements made them equally dangerous.
The ship sloughed towards the north bank before executing a sharp turn towards the south, rapid manoeuvres that no real-world craft would ever be able to complete. Members of the crew sprawled across the desk, clutching for handholds. Church and Tom were drenched by the eruptions of water as the serpents threw themselves against the sides, either in an attempt to hole the ship or to turn it over.
A shadow fell across them. Church knew what it was before he looked up. The serpent's head towered over them, the same terrifying features he had glimpsed in the sea off Skye: a flattened cobra head, yellowish eyes glowing with an alien intelligence, strange whiskers like a catfish tufting from its mouth, which contained several rows of lethal teeth.
It hovered for a second or two, during which time Church felt the faintest contact with an intelligence that fizzed in the back of his head. He knew what it was going to do before the head darted down towards them, jaws prised wide. Church rolled over and pulled the Sword from its scabbard, jabbing it upwards towards the descending darkness. It impaled the head as if it were slipping through crude oil. The serpent made a high-pitched mechanical whine as it thrashed madly. Church felt an electric jolt in that deep connection the serpent had made with him. An instant later it transformed into a searing scream. Caledfwlch's particular powers ensured that death always resulted from the slightest injury it inflicted.
Church tried to retreat from the bond the serpent had made with him, but it was locked in place. He felt its life force flare briefly, then dwindle down into a dark tunnel before finally winking out. Its body slipped back into the water, lifeless.
The shock of feeling the beast's final moment left Church dazed and distressed. Tom shook him roughly to
