sensed an old magic in the air: a deep musk and the snorting of an animal that was not an animal. Antlers were silhouetted against the moon.
Cernunnos roamed through the undergrowth, his breath steaming. Beyond him, Ruth could see the woman who had haunted her during those early days after the world had changed: at first glance a wizened old hag, then a middleaged mother, and finally a young woman, filled with vitality and sexuality.
'You called to me,' Ruth said. In the branches of the trees above, her owl hooted eerily.
Cernunnos loomed up before her, his power daunting but tempered in that aspect by a subtle gentleness. 'You have overcome all challenges, as I knew you would. And now you have reached your blossoming there is no longer any need for my guidance.'
'I don't know who I am anymore.'
'You are a daughter, not of my flesh, but of my spirit. And a daughter too, of my bright half. You are a guardian of the old ways, a champion of the moon, the sum of all the potential carried in the essence of every woman. Nature will bend before you. The grass will plead for your foot, the air for your lungs.'
'Yes, but what does it mean? What am I supposed to do now?' Her voice was strained with emotion from the stresses tearing her apart.
Cernunnos snorted once more and prowled amongst the trees as if he was doing a strange, ritual dance. When he returned to her, he said, 'You will be a light in the dark, showing the way between old days and new, between summer and winter, day and night, sun and moon, man and woman. Many trials lie ahead. But you will not walk the path alone.'
'Who's going to be with me?'
'Let the seasons turn, and take them as you find them.'
Ruth thought about this for a moment; she felt strangely comforted that there was some sort of direction planned for her. It would give her something to immerse herself in so she didn't have to think. 'But where do I start? Where do I go from here?'
'Let the seasons turn.'
'Something will turn up, I suppose. It always does.' She made to go, then turned back. 'Thank you. For giving me something to believe in. Something… more.' She couldn't find the words to adequately express the depth of what she had discovered since her change, and so she simply bowed her head and left. She had no doubt she would see him again.
As Ruth walked away, Laura stepped from the shadow of the trees. 'She doesn't realise exactly what she can do yet, does she?'
'Do you?' Cernunnos said.
'I have an idea.'
'You will watch her? Ensure she overcomes her pain?'
'Yeah, I'll be her shadow,' Laura said. 'I'll be a friend, and I hope she'll be mine.'
'Winter may be approaching, but this is a time for all growing things. The two of you will be needed as the heart of nature begins to beat strongly once more. Through the harsh days before the seeds that have been planted come forth, you will be needed more than ever. Existence has changed in more ways than you can comprehend. There are new rules. Old magic is loose in the land. Nothing will be the way it was.' He raised his head to make a strange, throaty call to the moon. 'When next you encounter the Golden Ones, they will not be how you recall.'
'How will they look?'
Cernunnos ignored her question. 'Unchanged for so long, my people have now had change thrust upon them. They, too, must deal with the new rules.'
'There's certainly going to be a lot of bad blood amongst them. This whole business has split them in two. Will you all go back to Otherworld?'
'Some. Others will retreat to their Courts to lick their wounds. A few will remain abroad in the Fixed Lands. The success of the Fragile Creatures will have consequences even the Golden Ones cannot foresee. We will no longer see this land as our territory.'
'I bet a few of you are going to hate us for what happened. There'll be trouble. And how are we going to cope with all the other crazy stuff that came out of Otherworld? That'll still hang around-the Fabulous Beasts and the Redcaps and the Baobhan Sith and all the rest of the shit.'
'The Fragile Creatures are a resilient breed.'
'Not so fragile, eh?' She looked up at the owl as it beat a path towards Ruth. 'So Ruth and I have got our work cut out. We'll be a good team. I've got the mouth and the looks, and she…' Laura was surprised at how excited she was about the prospect of what lay ahead, an opportunity to do the kind of good she always dreamed of doing '… she'll be the best there is.'
'So you're some big-shot shaman?' The Bone Inspector leaned on his staff, examining the theatre of stars. His burned hands miraculously appeared to be healing.
'So they say.' Shavi was smiling in the dark at his side. He liked the Bone Inspector; all his curmudgeonly ways and his difficulty with human relationships only added to his appeal.
'I've heard lots of people say that. They couldn't do anything.'
'Hmm.'
'At least you haven't got a big head like some of your associates.' He fiddled with his staff uncomfortably. 'Do you know what you're going to be doing after this night?'
'Not yet. Travelling, I suppose. Seeing how the landscape now lies. Finding out what I can do.'
'I could offer you a position.'
'Oh?'
'You've heard talk of the Culture?' Shavi said he had. 'The Culture were the original wise people. In society from the earliest days, from when man had just a few sticks to hack out a life, I reckon. The Egyptians sailed to these shores for guidance from us about the pyramids. The Celts revered us. We knew all the lore of the land, how animals and birds acted, trees and plants grew. We knew about the stars and the planets. The spirit fire. We knew everything. And then the damn Romans came. Slaughtered some, drove the rest underground where we couldn't do the job that we were meant to do. The colleges at Glastonbury and Anglesey were destroyed. It was hard to pass on the knowledge. And then, thanks to that God-awful Age of Reason, the Culture gradually died out.'
'And you are the last,' Shavi said.
'Now wouldn't it be a shame for all that thousands of years of knowledge to die out with me?'
'What are you suggesting?'
'The land needs the Culture. The people need the Culture-especially now when they need to learn a new way of living to cope with what it's going to be like out there.' He faced Shavi, his eyes sparkling. 'I want to start the colleges up again, pass on all the knowledge I've got before I'm gone. Build a new Culture.'
'And you want me to help?'
'I want you to be the first to learn. And then I want you to help me pass it on. Maybe set up at Glastonbury, I don't know. What do you say?'
Shavi's face was so serious as he considered the offer that the Bone Inspector was convinced he was going to refuse. But then a warm smile crept across his face. 'I think that would be an excellent idea.'
When they returned to the fire, thoughts of what lay ahead were put to one side, and once more they were old friends enjoying each other's company. They remembered the ones they had lost and thought about the times they had spent together, and they cried a little. But as good friends should, they helped each other along the rocky path, and after a while they even found the strength to laugh.
Lying back beneath the sweep of stars, there was some sadness that they would soon be going their separate ways. But though they might not meet again, they would never forget all that they had shared, and everything they had learned: in the midst of hardship they had discovered the best that life had to offer, both in the world, and in themselves.
And though there were undoubtedly hard days ahead, they had been forged in the worst of times, and with hope and optimism in their hearts, the road would always rise before them.
Church woke on a hard, cold floor surrounded by the smell of wood smoke. A deep ache suffused his limbs, though slowly fading; his stomach turned queasily. Strange dreams had paraded through his head, of people in dark suits and army green, but the last vibrant thoughts he had were of the dying light in poor, tormented Veitch's eyes, of the desperate love in Ruth's face, and of plunging into nothingness in the company of a deep shadow. He was
