wondered what it really looked like. The power of the Tuatha De Danann was focused there in all its unknowable, fearful glory. Ahead of them, the highest tier of gods was obviously seated, but the golden light that came off them was so forceful Church couldn't look at it. At the centre was the being the Celts had called Dagda, the Allfather, and around him others of the oldest and most powerful branch of the Golden Ones. On the perimeter he could just make out the ones the Celts had characterised as Lugh, and Nuada, whom he had first met on Skye when he had been brought back from the dead.
The air was crushing down on his shoulders and deep vibrations ran through him. It made him feel queasy, and he didn't know how long he would be able to endure it; it was apparent Fragile Creatures were not meant to be in that place, or to spend time in close proximity to those potent gods.
They waited, uncomfortable beneath the oppressive attention of the Golden Ones; the weight of all those fearsome intellects focused upon them was almost palpable. The debate started soon after. Nuada rose to deliver a speech to the assembled mass, although they couldn't understand a word he was saying; it sounded like a song caught in the wind, lilting and beautiful, with occasional threatening notes. Others spoke: some from the rank of the highest, many from the lower levels. Back and forth the discourse ranged. It felt odd to be under the scrutiny of such powerful beings, having hopes dissected with the very fate of the world hanging in the balance, but Church refused to be cowed by it. He held his head high and looked every speaker in the face.
Eventually Manannan rose, but instead of making his speech from the tier of the highest, he descended to the floor and stood beside Church and Ruth. He spoke with a passion and belief not previously visible in his reticent nature. Standing next to him, his ringing, incomprehensible voice resonating in the cavities of their bodies, they had an even deeper sense of the power around them.
Though Manannan never acknowledged their presence in the slightest, they knew he was arguing their case powerfully. The Tuatha De Danann hung on his every word, and when he finished speaking, a ripple of obvious disagreement ran around the arena. The tension in some of the comments that followed suggested that even Manannan's involvement might not swing the Golden Ones' support behind humanity.
But when the notes of dissent threatened to become a tumult, a hush suddenly fell across the arena. It was eerie the way it went from noise to silence in the merest moment. Church turned, searching for the source, and saw a large shadow fall across the arena. Cernunnos strode forward, his partner at his side. As she moved, her shape changed from that of a young, innocent girl, to a round-checked, middle-aged woman to a wizened crone and back again.
They stopped beside Manannan, and when Cernunnos spoke in a clear, booming voice it was in words Church could understand. 'No more. The seasons have turned. The days of holding on to faint beliefs have long since passed. Some of us have been wiped from existence for all time. Is this not a sign that it is time to act? How many more Golden Ones must lose the shining light before a reckoning comes? You have heard my brother speak of many things, of the warp and weft of existence, of reasons and truth and change, of the rising and advancing of spirits. Yet at the last, it must come down to this: do we sit proud and true and wait for the Night Walkers to bring their foul corruption to our door-even to this hallowed place itself-or do we fight as we have done in the past, for what is ours and for our place in the scheme of things? We aid these Fragile Creatures in their task, and thereby aid ourselves. The greater questions that trouble you need not be considered at this time. This is about the Golden Ones, and the Night Walkers, and the age-old history of lies and treachery and destruction that lie between us.'
He paused as his voice continued to echo around the vast chamber. There was no other sound; every god was listening intently to what he had to say. A swell of hope filled Church's heart.
'The Golden Ones have always been fair-minded, and we have always come to the aid of those who have aided us,' Cernunnos continued. 'These Brothers and Sisters of Dragons freed us from the privations of the Wish- Hex, and they prevented an even more heinous crime being inflicted, one that might well have wiped all of us from existence.' Mutterings of disbelief ran round the hall. 'They acted freely, and without obligation, and the Golden Ones should repay that debt. There is no longer the taint of the Night Walkers upon this champion. We are free to act at his behest.' He paused once more and looked slowly round. Briefly his appearance wavered and instead of the creature that Church saw as half animal, half vegetation, there was something almost angelic, but it was gone in an instant.
'I stand here with my brother, the two of us shoulder-to-shoulder. We say the old ways of noninvolvement must end now. Risen and proud, the Golden Ones were always a force to be feared. The time is right.'
Complete silence followed his plea. Church's heart fell; his words had not stirred them at all. He looked around frantically, wondering if he should speak himself, but before he could decide, Baccharus had gripped his arm and was leading him and Ruth out of the hall. 'The case has been made,' he whispered.
They were deposited in an annex where a crystal fountain gently tinkled. Baccharus refused to answer any of their questions, but they had only to look in each other's faces to confirm their private thoughts: they had failed.
Baccharus returned to them an hour later. At first they couldn't read his face, but when he was close it broke into a broad and unlikely grin. 'They will ride with you. The Night Walkers have been designated a true threat, and the feeling is that an agreement of cohabitation is not enough. It is time to eradicate them completely.'
Church jumped to his feet and hugged Ruth. 'We did it!'
'We need to thank Cernunnos and Manannan,' Ruth said.
'There will be time enough for that later,' Baccharus replied. 'The decision has been reached. The Golden Ones will act swiftly and we must be away at dawn. But first there is a ceremony to be enacted.'
'What ceremony?'
Baccharus ignored Church and motioned to the door. In the chamber, Cernunnos and Manannan waited patiently on the floor, but around them were gathered some of the highest of the gods, with only Dagda and those whose form was most fluid still remaining in their old place.
'Your hearts are true, Brother and Sister of Dragons,' Cernunnos said. 'An agreement has been reached that rings across existence. Not since the most ancient times of your people has the like been seen.'
He raised his right hand and the crowd parted to admit Lugh, leading four of the younger gods. Each carried one of the ancient artefacts Church, Ruth and the others had located to free the Tuatha De Danann from exile: the Stone ofFal, the Cauldron of Dagda, the Spear of Lugh and the Sword of Nuada Airgetlamh. Lugh himself carried the Wayfinder, the lantern with the flickering blue flame that had pointed them in the direction of the mystical objects.
'The Quadrillax,' Cernunnos intoned, 'are yours once more. Use them well and wisely.'
Church could barely believe what he was seeing. The four objects were so powerful, such a part of the traditions of the Tuatha De Danann, that he could never imagine an occasion when they would have freely given them up. But he could tell from the way the other gods looked to Cernunnos and Manannan that he knew who to thank.
He bowed. 'The Brothers and Sisters of Dragons thank you. And we shall use them well and wisely.'
Barely able to contain himself, he walked over to the sword that was resting on a cushion of strange, shimmering material. He had once seen it as a rusty, crumbling artefact. Now it gleamed as if it were made of silver and gold, and looked as sharp and strong as if it had just been forged. A shiver of anticipation made him pause before his fingers closed on it. But then it was in his hand and once again the power rushed through him; it felt warm and alive, comforting, against his skin. 'Now we'll see some justice,' he said in hushed tones.
Church sheathed the sword in a leather scabbard presented to him by Baccharus, while Ruth took the spear that she had used to such good advantage when freeing Cernunnos from Fomorii control in South Wales. The other artefacts were placed in a golden box that the young gods would hold until directed by Church.
Once they were on their own in their room, Church dragged Ruth on to the bed and hugged her tightly. 'A result,' he grinned, 'on every front.'
'So where's that familiar pessimism? Come on, you're the man who manages to drag misery from every victory.'
'I'm still pragmatic-I know it's still going to be near impossible. But at least we have the two things we need: the support of the Tuatha De Danann and the Quadrillax. That's a chance, and I'm going to seize it with both hands.'
'Oh, get away from me. You're not the real Church. You've been possessed in that mysterious pool.' She playfully attempted to push him away, before relaxing so he could fold into her. 'Go on, there's got to be something
