'Greetings, Gaelen. I was about to lead these two weary travellers to partake of the hospitality for which the Golden Ones are famed.'
Gaelen barely looked at Melliflor. 'I think the Brother and Sister of Dragons would rather be spared the hospitality of your Queen.'
Melliflor bristled. 'Step carefully, Gaelen. My Queen would not-'
'I have orders to take these two directly to the Lady Niamh. That is the desire of the First Family.'
Melliflor appeared to consider challenging this, but eventually backed down. He gave another dislikeable smile to Church and Ruth and bowed once more. 'Another time, then. I hope you do not regret missing the comforts on offer, nor the information my Queen could have imparted.' He turned on his heel and marched away, with his guards trooping behind.
Gaelen nodded curtly before leading Church and Ruth slowly to the camp. They dismounted on the outskirts where one of the guards led their horses away for food and watering.
Within the camp their perceptions became increasingly distorted. They felt like they were drifting through a dream where everything was fluid, strong enough for them to wonder if they would remember any of it once they left. Their senses were stifled beneath the constant assault of sounds, smells and sights. As they passed, eyes turned towards them, some filled with contempt, others accompanied by a smile of greeting. They saw no one they recognised. Many of the gods were of the lower caste, but on two occasions they caught sight of burning golden lights unable to stay in one shape.
Gaelen halted at a large purple tent made of a heavy material that resembled velvet. Over it fluttered a flag showing two dragons, red and white, either in embrace or fighting. The god pulled aside the flap and bid them enter.
The inside was cosy with sumptuous cushions scattered on a richly par terned carpet. Lanterns hung from poles at intervals around the perimeter, but the flames were turned down so the light was soft and hazy. Baccharus slumped in a low chair, his legs stretched out before him, drinking from a wooden flagon studded with four rubies. He lifted it in greeting, but didn't rise.
Niamh stood next to a trestle table in the centre of the tent, poring over a large map that had previously been rolled around large brass spindles. She hurried over to Church, smiling broadly. She made to embrace him, but when she saw Ruth, her face lost its sheen and she turned away sadly.
'You completed your mission, then, Brother?' Baccharus said.
'I did,' Church replied. 'The land is alive again. That should at least give us something for the fight.'
Baccharus sipped from his flagon. 'We can feel it. It is a powerful defence. Even my kind fear the force of the Blue Fire.'
Church and Ruth flopped wearily on the cushions while Niamh sent out for food and drink, 'all given freely and without obligation,' a statement that told Church this was a Court of the Tuatha De Danann in all but location.
'You've already agreed a plan?' Church asked as he ate his fill of fruit and bread.
'The Golden Ones you know as Lugh and Nuada have overseen the battle planning,' Niamh said. 'The Night Walkers are well established in their den and it will not be easy to unseat them. The dark ones are a foul infestation. They swarm everywhere. But a direct assault on several fronts should weaken them. We come from the North and the West. The Master will lead Wave Sweeper along the river to split their force in two.'
'What about us?'
Perhaps it was a trick of the flickering lanterns, but she suddenly looked deeply sad. 'Though some of my kind refuse to admit it, you are the key to defeating the Heart of Shadows. You must find a way into its lair and use the Quadrillax to wipe it from existence.' She turned away, pretending to unfurl another map.
Ruth's hand fumbled for Church's and gave it a squeeze. 'We'll do our part,' she said.
Baccharus and Niamh left them alone to eat and doze in the warm atmosphere, but they were too tense to get much rest. Four hours later, the tent flaps were roughly thrown aside. Church automatically jumped to his feet, his hand on the Sword hilt, but he was almost bowled over by a large figure that crossed the tent in seconds and threw its arms around him tightly.
'Ey, you bastard!' Veitch lifted Church off the ground and hugged him until he felt his ribs were about to crack. 'I thought you'd have done a runner by now.'
'You can't get rid of me that easy.' He clapped Veitch on the shoulder, more pleased to see him than he would have believed.
Shavi slipped in behind, smiling quietly, and then Tom, looking tired and irritable. Veitch turned and waved the stump of his wrist at Shavi and Ruth. 'Beat you both, as bleedin' usual.'
Ruth stared in horror for a while, then followed his gaze down to where the finger was missing on her hand, and over to Shavi who sported the same gap. They all burst out laughing together.
But then Veitch could control himself no longer. He marched over to pull Ruth to him tightly, burying his face in her hair to hide the emotion that rushed through him. After a few seconds, he pulled back to kiss her gently on the head. Ruth went rigid in the face of his show of feeling, knowing it wasn't the time to tell him about Church, unsure what to do, but Veitch didn't appear to notice her reticence. She flashed a glance at Church, who gave one quick shake of his head.
Veitch smiled with a mixture of affection and embarrassment. 'Sorry about that.' His eyes were fixed on hers, wide and childlike; there was a flush to his cheeks. 'I've missed you.'
Ruth smiled back awkwardly, but said nothing. The moment was deflated by Shavi who hugged Church and Ruth in turn, his emotions also close to the surface. 'It feels good to be together again,' he said quietly. 'Now all we need is Laura.'
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Church said, 'She's dead.'
'No, she's not,' Veitch said, puzzled. 'Shavi was the only one who was dead.'
They looked from one to the other blankly.
It was hard for any of them to believe they were back together again. Each of them felt, at times, overwhelmed; and then they would simply sit and listen to the others talking, enjoying the motion of faces, the animation of limbs, the energy crackling amongst them. Elation overwhelmed them all, completely wiping out any thought of what the morning might bring. There was drinking and raucousness, jokes that made light of their hardships, and the warm glow of old friends brought together again.
Veitch held up a flagon marked with a design of a Fabulous Beast. 'You seen this?'
'Isn't that the one with the pellet with the poison?' Church laughed, but Veitch completely missed the reference.
'No, no,' Shavi said, grinning, 'that is in the chalice with the palace. That one is the brew that is true.'
'You lot haven't bleedin' changed,' Veitch muttered.
Veitch was mesmerised by every movement Ruth made, as if he could barely believe she was there before him. Part of Ruth felt uncomfortable at the depth of emotion she sensed, yet she was excited by it too. That conflict made her uneasy. She knew she loved Church, so why was she responding to the attentions of someone else, in particular a man with whom she had so little in common?
When the conversation became a heated debate about Laura she was thankful for the opportunity to distract herself from her thoughts. Neither she nor Church could believe Laura was still alive; Tom and Veitch were adamant she was. It was left to Shavi to argue that they now lived in a world where anything could happen.
The conversation moved on. Ruth tried to stay out of the limelight, but Veitch brought her in at every opportunity, rapt at the tales she told.
'You hung on the outside of a ship in a storm? You're a crazy girl!'
'At least I didn't manage to lose a hand,' she said wryly.
'Maybe we should get ourselves a little Amputation Club going.' Veitch chortled; he was drinking too much, too fast. Beneath his upbeat exterior, they all could see the strain the loss of his hand had brought in him.
'That'd exclude me,' Church said, 'so in defence I'm proposing the Born Again Club.'
Veitch furrowed his brow. 'What's that, then?'
'Well, I died and came back.' He nodded to Shavi. 'So did you. And Ruth did, fleetingly, just before Laura took the seed of Balor from her.'
Veitch snorted. 'You're not counting me out, you tosser.'
'Do not worry, Ryan,' Shavi joked, 'there is plenty of time for you to meet your maker and come back down to earth.'
