Lurching to his feet, Church called Ruth's name as Janus appeared from a door in the air beside the Libertarian, his dual faces shifting between black and white.
As Ruth bore down on the Libertarian, Janus used his key with a flourish and another door opened in the air directly in front of her. She disappeared into the gulf, and after a brief, mocking wave, the Libertarian followed, shouting, 'I really do need a new queen — that last one got a little damaged. And now I have one!' Within a second, Janus was gone too, and the only sound was the door in the air slamming with a terrible finality.
2
Time passed, though Ruth was no longer aware of it. Her eyes rolled back so that only the whites were visible. Behind her, Mictlantecuhtli extended a skeletal hand to draw the misty tendril that would play with her memories of grief and loss, corrupting her thoughts with their toxic load.
The Libertarian watched with a faint, mocking smile, as bogus as everything else about him. Inside, he was in turmoil. The peaceful equilibrium he had achieved since he had accepted his transformation was gone. Apart from the odd stray memory, he had thought that every part of his old life had been wiped away, but ever since he had been compelled to kiss what he thought was a just-dead Ruth in Greece, he had felt incomprehensible stirrings. Apparently, love crossed more barriers than he'd thought. He didn't want to believe that was true, for it would set up a disturbing sequence of self-analysis that could destroy his reassuring sense of what he had become: better. It meant he was still grounded in all that had gone before. It meant he was still corrupted by the foul stuff that eventually destroyed humans.
Yet now he could see a certain symmetry. Niamh and Ruth, the opposing faces of his former romantic life. One had come and gone, and now he could have the other, finally. By transforming her to become like him, they could be together, and the past could once again be eradicated.
And, as he had long believed, it would be the final act in his becoming. If Church could not have Ruth as a human, and could only gain her as the Libertarian, it was a choice he would always take. The future was sealed. All hope was gone.
3
'Church, mate, you've got to get a grip,' Veitch urged.
They'd raced along the bank of the stinking river until the roof had become too low to proceed further, and then had been forced to take winding, rough-cut steps back into the Fortress. The entire city-wide building appeared to be on fire. Choking smoke swept through the gloomy corridors, and the heat was rising by the minute. They had to shout to be heard above the noise of warfare, the blasts of fire from the Fabulous Beasts, the collapse of massive buildings that shook the ground, the constant, jarring rise and fall of the siren.
Church was consumed by his fears for Ruth, all thoughts of the destruction of the Burning Man now gone. With Caledfwlch drawn, he ran ahead of the others, moving inexorably towards the heart of the complex.
Veitch eventually caught up with him and dragged him to a halt. Church rounded on him, on the brink of striking out until Shavi interposed himself between the two. 'Church, we will rescue Ruth-'
'Don't you get it?' Church raged. 'This was the Libertarian's plan all along… my plan. Ruth will be consumed by her dark side and join with the Libertarian. I won't have lost her to you…' He shook his sword at Veitch. 'I'll have lost her to the worst aspects of myself. The only way I'll ever get her back is by becoming the Libertarian.'
Tom and Veitch's briefly exchanged glance was not missed. 'That's right,' Church continued. 'The only way you're going to stop me is by killing me.'
Weaving through the corridors ahead of them, he emerged from a large door into a vast circular area in the centre of the Fortress. It sloped down to an abyssal pit from which emerged the Burning Man, a wicker structure towering so high that the top was lost in the pall of smoke. Within the flaming structure, the bodies of gods writhed, their essence fuelling the focus of power that would soon attract the Void. The portion of the wicker structure Church could see was already filled with flames; the moment of arrival could not be far off.
Overhead, the Fabulous Beasts released random blasts of flame before they disappeared back into the smoke. Everything was painted with the hellish red glare of the fire.
Surging into the arena from every door on the perimeter was the Army of the Void, thousands upon thousands of Lament-Brood, marching with their mechanical undead step, Redcaps, roving like packs of wild beasts, and a tidal wave of the sallow-skinned brutish creatures.
'Okay, then.' Veitch had arrived at Church's shoulder. 'We just need to get through that lot and we're on course to give the Burning Man a bit of what-for.'
Shavi searched the surrounding buildings. 'No sign of Mallory and Caitlin with the Extinction Shears or Hunter with the Two Keys.'
Above the milling army, the air boiled, and amidst a thunderous sound of slamming doors that drowned out all other noise, Janus appeared. Floating in the air, he brandished the gold key, and from another door emerged a figure whose image eventually coalesced into that of a rotund oriental man at least ten feet tall, with a white moustache that drooped down to his feet. He was naked apart from a loincloth, but strands of human skulls hung down his body, clattering every time he shifted his bulk.
'Who's that git?' Veitch asked.
'His appearance suggests he is Yen-Lo-Wang, the Chinese god of death and ruler of the Fifth Level of Hell,' Shavi replied. 'A very powerful god, with an aptitude for tormenting souls.'
As Yen-Lo-Wang raised his arms, the chaotic army became instantly silent and fell into step, as though he were a puppeteer pulling their strings. As one, the army turned to face Church and the others.
'Ragnarok,' Tom whispered. 'This is it — all the prophecies lead here.'
Shavi was distracted by the white stone flags of the arena. 'Something is not quite right here.' Deep in concentration, he caressed the flesh around his alien eye before he said, 'Beneath the flagstones there is a force, like the Blue Fire, but opposite. Black as the flames on Veitch's sword.'
'The Libertarian calls it 'the Bad Blood',' Veitch said uncomfortably.
'It comes from the Void, like the Blue Fire comes from Existence. Normally there's not much of it around, but it's been getting stronger the closer the Void gets. You step anywhere near that, you're dead.'
'How are we going to get across there?' Church said.
'There is some kind of pattern,' Shavi said hesitantly. 'But I cannot see it.'
The Army of the Void moved forwards.
'Holy fucking shit,' Veitch said. 'What are we going to do now?'
'We fight,' Church said.
'I thought I had a bleedin' death wish.'
'I think I can beat you all on that front.' Hunter was sitting on the edge of a balcony above them. Behind him, Laura stood sheepishly, with Miller and Jack hanging back where Hunter had ordered them to wait. 'Come on, a little applause at the very least. I've fought my way through… ooh… thousands of these ne'er-do-wells. And I got the girl. That amounts to Epic Win in my book.'
'Shut up and get down here,' Veitch said. He nodded to Laura. 'You better now?'
'Better enough to give you a good kicking.' She clambered down with Hunter close behind, and immediately gave Shavi a hug, and then, surprisingly, Veitch.
'What's that for?' he asked, taken aback.
'I thought you needed to know what a woman felt like. You know, final treat before you die.'
Distracted and on the edge of sanity, Church said harshly, 'We can trust you now?'
Stung by his tone, she forced a grin. 'Scout's honour, Church-dude.'
Slipping on the Balor Claw, Hunter turned towards the advancing army and pretended to count heads. 'I'll take the first hundred thousand. Split the rest up as you like.'
'You people are going to die! What is wrong with you!' Tom snapped, but there was a hint of pride in his
