and your kind, but with his position amongst the Golden Ones, to openly endorse our stance would have caused too much upheaval. '
'But now he's going to do it?'
Baccharus nodded slowly.
'This must be the first time that gods are servant to the people who worshipped them.'
'All should be in servitude to others, and all should be free.'
'But this split amongst your people… is it really so bad?'
Baccharus gave a thin-lipped smile. 'If there is to be war amongst the Golden Ones, you will find many fighting for the future of the Fragile Creatures.'
'You'd do that? Against your own people?'
'This concerns much more than one severely limited perspective, even if that vista belongs to the Golden Ones. We are all servants of existence, and we must do what we can to ensure the best possible state for all.'
'So let me get this straight-humans have the potential to become gods-'
Baccharus winced at the description, waved it away with a lazy hand.
— greater, then. Than we are now. To achieve the massive potential-'
'— encoded in your very make-up.' Baccharus nodded emphatically. 'You were made with the powers of stars inside you. All sentient creatures are formed to rise and advance. That is the reason for all this.' He made an expansive gesture.
'The Golden Ones have stopped advancing, for whatever reason. Some fatal flaw. But they don't want to be supplanted by Fragile Creatures and so they will do everything they can to keep us down. To prevent us achieving our destiny.' Church looked dreamily towards the bar where the red-headed men were still punching each other, though their laughter was now more forced.
Baccharus smiled proudly at Church's expert summing up of the complex matters he had raised. He raised a finger. 'One more thing: the lie is given to my people's assertions of superiority by the mere existence of the Court of the Final Word.'
Church grew cold at the mention of the Tuatha De Danann court supposedly devoted to healing, but where more sinister things happened in its deepest recesses. 'What do you mean?'
'For many generations of your people the Court of the Final Word has been investigating mortal children.' Baccharus pronounced the word carefully. 'My people wish to know what innate part of Fragile Creatures is the key to their advancement.'
'So they can steal it for themselves!' Church grew rigid at the repercussions that spun out of Baccharus's comment. 'That's why Tom's Queen was so adept at taking him apart and putting him back together!'
'Oh, my people know every component part of Fragile Creatures. They know how every molecule interlocks with every other molecule. But they have still not found the source of your potential.' His eyes sparkled. 'And they never will.'
'This is too much for me to take in right now.' Church held up the beer. 'This doesn't help. But you're right-it puts me in the correct frame of mind. I thought I'd get everything laid out in my mind about what we were fighting for. Now it's even bigger stakes. Not just survival, but our… evolution? Crazy.'
'These are monumental times.'
'You're telling me. Wait till Ruth hears about this.' He leaned forward once more and peered back into his beer. 'Now tell me about Cormorel,' he said quietly.
Baccharus stared at one of the flickering torches for a long time. 'It is said my people feel nothing like you Fragile Creatures feel. But I loved Cormorel. I think, once we see things from your perspective, we learn to be how we perhaps once were.'
'Then how could you kill him?'
'It was not my intention at the time, but in the instant before I acted, I knew it had to be done. Cormorel had discovered there was a conspiracy afoot. That is his word. Conspiracy. Niamh, myself, certain others, had taken the decision to confound those who attempted to block the chances which might come the way of the Fragile Creatures on their path to enlightenment. Niamh and I had formed an alliance with some of the other creatures on Wave Sweeper-'
'The Portunes.'
'And others. And in the eyes of my people, associating with such lowly creatures against our own kind was the ultimate crime. Cormorel was preparing to expose us. The Portunes and all the others would have been eradicated. Niamh would have been despatched to the Court of the Final Word, where she would have suffered. Immeasurably.' He bowed his head even further. 'I pursued Cormorel on to the deck during the upheaval of the attack-'
'That was the Fomorii's first strike, right? Not you?'
He nodded. 'I was pleading with him. He would have none of it. In fact, he took great pleasure in the pain he saw he was causing me. For all that he considered himself above the emotions of Fragile Creatures, he was filled with cruelty.'
'How did you do it?'
'There is a manner known only to my people.' Church wouldn't have dreamed of asking, but Baccharus added, 'It cannot be revealed to any outsider.'
'And the Walpurgis was caught with his hand in the biscuit tin, having a final meal.'
'Destroying the evidence. If he had succeeded, my people would have believed Cormorel was simply washed overboard during the attack and would have turned up sooner or later.'
The weight that lay on Baccharus's shoulders was palpable. Church rested a supportive hand on his forearm. 'You did the right thing. Under the circumstances. There was too much at stake.'
'But that does not diminish the pain I feel, for I committed a crime against existence itself. While striking a blow for existence. I have wrestled with the conundrum every hour since then and still made no sense of it. Did I do the right thing? Can an act of such terrible negativity create something worthwhile?'
The questions were not rhetorical; the weight of emotion in Baccharus's voice showed he was asking for guidance. The fact that he felt Church somehow had the wisdom was shocking; how could Baccharus possibly perceive him as someone who had a grasp of such things? 'Time will give you the answer to that, Baccharus.' He hoped it didn't sound like too much of a platitude.
They were disturbed by a blast of warm air as the door swung open. Ruth walked in, looking around curiously. Church called her over.
'Typical. First chance you get, you men are straight down the pub,' she said in a faux-chiding voice.
'How did you find us?'
'A little bird told me.' She wrinkled her nose as she looked round at the raucous activity at the bar. 'So let me guess. I've got a choice of beer, beer or beer.'
'I'll see if I can get you a lady's glass.' Church dodged away before she could hit him. She turned to Baccharus. 'So what were you two talking about so seriously?'
'Death. Conspiracy. The rising and advancing of the spirit.'
She rolled her eyes. 'Oh, how we laughed.'
'It could have been worse.' Veitch huddled closer to the fire. In his weakened state, the chill October night bit deep into his bones.
'In what way could it have been worse? The Grim Lands were a particularly unpleasant experience.' Shavi took a sip of the bright green absinthe they'd picked up in a deserted off-licence before passing the bottle on to Tom.
'I could have had to give you the kiss of life.'
'And how would that have been worse?'
'Because you'd still be lying there!' Veitch chuckled.
'Well, you seem to be getting better.' Shavi eyed his friend warmly. He had been worried Veitch was going to crack under the shock of losing his handcertainly the first few hours after their return from the Grim Lands had been very hard-but since then he had regained much of his equilibrium. However, there were still too many worrying signs for Shavi to relax: a wildness in the eyes, exaggerated movements, overreactions. He hoped the Blue Fire would work its magic before things started to fall apart.
Veitch took the absinthe from Tom.
