Just as he anticipated those enormous jaws crunching down on his legs, rending and tearing and dragging him down into the dark depths, his collar was gripped and he was hauled out of the water. Face down on wet boards, he felt the boat rock violently as the creature passed just beneath. Then Ruth was at his side, caring for him as he coughed up seawater, and, as he looked up, he saw Niamh watching him worriedly.
Baccharus was beside him, his sleeve wet where he had rescued Church. 'Quickly, now. You must help me row. The Night Walkers are close.'
Barely conscious, Church let Ruth help him into a seat where he clutched an oar feebly. Ruth and Niamh both joined them and soon the boat was moving slowly away from the island.
'I don't understand why they aren't following us,' Ruth said, glancing over her shoulder.
'They know we can be seen from Wave Sweeper. Any further pursuit would be futile.' Baccharus turned to Church. We will find treatment for you on Wave Sweeper, Brother of Dragons,' he said with surprising tenderness.
'Thanks for saving me.'
'I could not let such an honourable being die, Jack Churchill.' His words and tone were unlike any Church had heard from the Tuatha De Danann before. Closing his eyes, he leaned across the oar and reflected on what it meant as they drifted back towards safety.
Church woke in his cabin, the window thrown open to reveal the last sunlight of the day, mellow gold in a pastel blue sky, coolness on the wind. His leg ached with a rude heat beneath the rough blanket, but there was none of the agony that had consumed his body immediately after the break. Cautiously, he peeked under the sheet.
'It's still there.'
Ruth was sitting just out of his line of vision, keeping watch over him. 'Yes, but will I still be able to play in the Cup Final?'
'I'm glad you've retained your sense of humour. I lost mine when I saw that bone jutting out. Almost lost my lunch too.' She sat on the edge of the bed.
There was a splint fastened hard around his lower leg; it bit sharply into his too-taut flesh as he shuffled up into a sitting position. 'When I saw it I was convinced it was an amputation job. Luckily I didn't have much opportunity to think about it after that.'
'You were luckier than you think. Most ships of this kind have some old sawbones. But this being the gods and all, you get operated on by some selfproclaimed deity. Geltin, I think his name was. And did he work miracles! His hands disappeared into your leg like it was water, popping the bone together and fusing it. He slapped some poultice on and Bob's your uncle. With that and the Pendragon Spirit you'll be back to normal in a day or two. Even beats BUPA.' She took his hand. 'I was worried.'
He gave her fingers a squeeze.
She leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead, lingering a moment, her lips cool and moist. When she withdrew she hastily changed the subject, as if embarrassed by her actions. 'They've been in conference ever since you went under. This murder, coming so hard on Cormorel's, has really shaken them up. I think they thought they were inviolate before. Now it's like any old enemy can knock one of them off whenever he feels like it.'
'And now they know how the rest of us feel.' Church instantly felt guilty for the harshness in his voice. 'I know it must be hard for them-'
'No, you're right. It's hard to feel sympathy when they have such little regard for other living creatures. It has really shaken them up, though. And just as much because this murder was committed by the Fomorii.'
Church tried to choose his words carefully, but after a moment gave up. 'I know this might sound coldhearted, but this could really work in our favour. It's not just a murder. With the history between the Fomorii and the Tuatha De Danann, it's an act of war.'
'You'd think, but I could tell from some of the comments flying around the deck that they weren't exactly breaking a neck to retaliate.'
Through the window, Church watched a gull skimming the surface of the sea; the other islands must be nearby. 'I don't understand.'
'Neither do I. Who knows how their minds work?'
Church tried to shift into a more comfortable position, then gave up. 'Why would the Fomorii risk committing such a senseless act? The Tuatha De Danann, their arch enemies, were giving them free rein to wipe out our world.'
Ruth examined her palm for a while, then said, 'I think it might be me.'
'What do you mean?'
'When I did the spirit flight to London, that awful thing I told you about… Balor, I suppose… followed me back, at least across our world. Maybe it saw us as a threat, sent out a killing party to wipe us out.'
'They'd have had to move quickly.'
'You know time means nothing to these freaks.'
Church grabbed her wrist and pulled her down on to the bed next to him so he could slip his arm around her shoulders. 'It's too confusing to try to work it out sitting here. Who knows what's going on? The important thing is I need to be up and about to lobby our case if I have to.'
She leaned down beside the bed and emerged with a cane, carved in the shape of a dragon. 'Voila.'
'That's very fitting.'
'Yes, and they seemed to have it waiting for you.' Another mystery, but he had long since given up trying to comprehend.
There was movement in the corridor without, and a second later the door rattled open without warning. Church was about to castigate the visitors for not knocking until he saw their faces. Three members of the Tuatha lle Danann cadre who always accompanied Manannan entered, but they were subtly changed. Their faces, which before had been impassive and waxy, now had a cunning and malicious cast at the edges of the mouth and in the eyes, barely perceptible in direct glance, but on another level, quite striking.
'The Master requires your presence,' the leader of the group said. His hand rested on the pommel of a sword Church had not seen in his possession before.
'The worms have turned,' Church muttered so only Ruth could hear.
They silently followed the guards, Church hobbling as best he could. On deck there was no sign of any of the other travellers, only small groups of the Tuatha lle Danann, watching their passage with dark, brooding expressions.
In his expansive cabin, as large as a mediaeval banqueting hall, Manannan sat behind a desk of gold, carved with figures that appeared to move of their own accord a split second after his attention left them. Other high- ranking members of the Golden Ones were scattered around the room. Church spied Niamh behind a couple of thin, cruel-faced aristocrats, but she would not meet his eyes. The strained, icy atmosphere told him things were about to get much worse.
Manannan rose once they stood before him and clasped his oversized hands loosely together in front of him. His face, too, was changed, though not as unpleasant as those of his guards; but it was harsher, certainly. 'Another of our number has been driven on.' His voice was as cold and hard as a swordblade. 'The circling stars have been shaken, not once but twice.' The message was repeated almost for his own sake, as if he could barely believe it. 'Two times, in the fleeting memory of Fragile Creatures. Two abominations in the face of existence.' Fury flared in his eyes, but his voice dropped to a whisper. 'Monstrous.'
Church didn't dare say anything for fear of retribution.
Manannan raised a hand to point an accusing finger at them. 'You Fragile Creatures brought this upon us.'
Ruth stirred angrily; Church fumbled for her wrist to restrain her, but she took a step to one side. 'The Fomorii-'
— were brought to the Western Isles in search of you. Were driven to acts of vengeance by you. The Night Walkers are rough beasts, once prompted, rarely stopped. You must be accountable for this.'
'You're surely not blaming us for Cormorel?' Ruth held up her face defiantly.
Manannan did not answer.
'Scapegoats, then.'
The disrespect in her voice was a step too far. Manannan's face shifted furi ously before settling into its
