up his arms and into his heart. He knew he wasn't really holding shears. On the edge of his perception, images shifted constantly, hinting at something much bigger, something that reached across worlds. 'Now we just need to get rid of the Void for ever.'
As the frame of the Burning Man plunged into the abyss and the flames roiled out of control, a voice rang out far behind him. 'Church! Stop them! Use the Shears! Stop them!'
He didn't turn. His concentration was fixed on the flames; he was convinced he could see a face in them that would haunt him for the rest of his days. Part of him knew the voice was Hunter's, that the warning was important. But he didn't turn.
Crying out in shock, Ruth thrust Church to one side as a seemingly endless army of spiders streamed towards the furiously churning flames, their metallic bodies glinting in the ruddy furnace light.
'Stop them!' Hunter called, closer now.
Church glanced back to see Hunter and Laura racing behind the flow of spiders. Beyond them, Cernunnos, Carlton and the Caretaker all looked on with deep concern. He realised, too late, that it was the moment his future self had warned him about so many times: when you're in Otherworld and they call, heed it right away.
The spiders flowed around the weakened essence of the Void lost in the flames, carving through reality to create a door in the air leading to the superstructure behind everything where the spiders moved freely across all time and space.
As Church raced to the edge of the shattered bridge, the swirling flames were sucked through the gaping door. Falling through, the spiders worked rapidly to seal the opening behind them.
They had taken the Void to another place, perhaps another time. They would be bringing it back.
From the doorway behind reality, coloured lights leaked out and Church felt the very nature of the cavern alter. Mists rolled all around and suddenly he was in the Warp Zone again, and there were numerous versions of himself at different points in his history, wandering, baffled, determined, scared, fighting. Desperate to send a message to himself to change what had occurred, he raced from one to the other, calling, 'Is this it? Is this the right time? You have to listen to me. This is a warning.'
But, of course, he knew it was futile.
That didn't stop him. Confused by the shifting reality of the Warp Zone, he added, 'Is this the right place? Am I too late?' To the multiple Churches, he insisted, 'When you're in Otherworld and they call, heed it right away. They're going to bring him back. They're-' Suddenly he glimpsed the spiders closing the door in the air and remembered where he was. 'Too late!' he yelled, racing out of the colours to the edge of the abyss.
With only a sliver remaining, Church brought the shears together. There was a moment when everything seemed to hang, and Church felt as if he was floating in a brilliant white light. But with a sound like the crystal-clear chime of a bell, he was snapped back into the harsh reality of the cavern and flung head over heels in a rushing wind. His head hit stone and he blacked out.
8
'Will he be all right?'
Silence.
'Please come back to me. Please!'
'Don't worry — it's nearly over. There'll be peace.'
'Peace…'
9
Surfacing from disturbing dreams, Church found himself lying out in the wastelands, surrounded by his friends. On the horizon, there was a smudge of scarlet, gold and black where the Fortress of the Enemy burned and above it the Fabulous Beasts swooped majestically, caught in the rosy light of the setting sun.
'We did it?' he asked, still dazed.
'I don't know what you did exactly, but the Enemy's army lost all heart for the fight.' Squatting beside him, Tom looked more at peace than Church had ever seen him. He pulled off the ring Freyja had given him and tossed it down a dune into the ochre dust.
Looking up into the darkening sky, Church said, 'The stars are coming out.'
Ruth brushed a hair from his forehead. 'I never thought I'd see that again.'
Levering himself onto his elbows, Church asked, 'Are we all here?'
'Yes,' Ruth replied. 'You, me, Tom, Shavi, Laura and Hunter. Five Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, one hanger-on.' She smiled at Tom, but it was gradually replaced by a puzzled, sad expression.
Church understood. 'Strange — it feels as if somebody's missing.' Shrugging off a sharp pang of grief, he clambered to his feet.
Nearby the Army of Dragons and the gods celebrated loudly. The Brothers and Sisters of Dragons moved amongst the knots of strange beings, surprised by the camaraderie and the hugs and back-slaps from ones who may well have tormented them only a few days earlier. Not far away, Virginia and the other refugees stared at the sky in mute disbelief.
Lugh saw that Church had recovered and made his way up the dune with Rhiannon close behind. 'Brother of Dragons, you have the thanks of all of the Golden Ones, indeed of all living things in all the lands.' He shook Church's hand warmly.
'The Void isn't gone for good,' Church said.
'Yes and no,' Lugh said enigmatically. 'This is the dawn of a new age. A golden age. You will soon understand.'
'It is a new age, too, for the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons,' Rhiannon added. 'You were forged to prevent the victory of the Void this day. You will have a new role now, and in that spirit we, the Golden Ones, have a request, equals to equals.'
'Go on,' Church said.
'The great sadness that lies at the heart of our people is the loss of our homes — Gorias, Finias, Falias and Murias,' Lugh continued. His eyes blazed with a hopeful excitement. 'Help us find them. Help the Tuatha De Danaan return to their ancestral homes and bring joy to our hearts again. It would be a quest that would live up to the great legend of the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons! The filid would sing songs of such an achievement until the stars came down!'
Church glanced around the others and saw the silent answer. 'We owe you for your help and sacrifice,' he said. 'Once we've rested, we'll start to plan.'
Lugh and Rhiannon could barely contain their joy. They thanked the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons profusely and then hurried back to the ranks of their people to spread the news. Soon their celebration dwarfed even that of the Army of Dragons and the other gods.
In the growing gloom, a blue light gleamed across the wastelands. 'Wait here,' Church said to the others. 'I'll be back in a while.'
As he set out towards the light, he was distracted by the strange but familiar sight of a puppeteer standing alone on the blasted terrain. Eight feet tall, wearing black robes and a white mask with a nose that arched like a bird's beak, he looked just as Church had seen him in Venice in the sixteenth century. His hands moved rapidly above five dancing puppets, though there were no strings. The puppets' lifelike faces were exactly as Church had guessed.
Church approached him and for long moments watched the silent show. Then he reached up and removed the puppeteer's mask, without any resistance. His own face looked back at him, though that too resembled a mask.
'It's true, then?' Church asked.
The puppeteer only gave an enigmatic smile.
