which was somehow even more disturbing than the hideous sound they normally made. She slammed on the brakes and slewed to a halt, switching off the engine as quickly as she could and praying the Fomorii were singleminded enough to ignore the sound of her approach. Away up front she could make out the headlamps of Callow's car, moving slowly.
She turned to Laura, whose shock of blonde hair glowed like the moon where it stuck out of the sleeping bags. 'Hold tight,' she said softly.
Although Church could feel rough hands on him, he seemed to be floating in and out of consciousness. It was all he could do to maintain any rational thought among the overwhelming sense of evil which seemed to wrap around him in thick, black swathes. But he could feel movement as he was dragged or carried, smell the sickening stink that clouded all around, hear the rasp of inhuman breath. He had no idea where they were being taken, but he knew their lives wouldn't last long after their arrival, and he feared, in a way he didn't think possible, what tortures Calatin would inflict before his death.
Then, through all the turmoil, he became aware of a distant sound, slowly rippling closer like the rumbling of an approaching tidal wave. As it neared, he tried to clutch at his ears to keep it out; his stomach bucked and flipped, his gorge rose, his mind threatened to switch off completely. And only then did he guess what it was: the sound of the Fomorii in fear.
Suddenly there was chaos. The night was torn apart by ferocious cries as the Fomorii broke up in disarray. Church was dropped roughly to the ground, where he bounced around like a pinball as the beasts surged in all directions, tearing and bruising his flesh. But with the claustrophobic atmosphere of evil disrupted by the confusion, he found it easier to think. Somehow he got to his feet and looked around frantically for Veitch and Shavi. Instead, he saw what appeared to be a whirlpool in the dark sea of Fomorii ahead of him as they circled crazily in one spot. At first he watched in confusion, until he realised there was something at the heart of the maelstrom. Slashing sounds began to cut through the frenzied gibberings, and then the black wave parted and he saw what lay at the heart of the churning area. There was a group of creatures about five feet high, their skin a sickening green, scaled in part, with long black hair and monstrous features. They were moving through the Fomorii with some kind of weapons that Church couldn't quite make out, but he saw the aftermath: disembowellings, severed limbs, hacked heads. A slurry of blood and bone was beginning to mire the green grass. There was something about the creatures' heads that didn't appear right, but it was only when they drew closer that he could see what it was; they wore head-dresses made out of bloody human body parts-torsos, scalps, faces-and the grue from them matted the creatures' hair and bodies.
Church was transfixed by the sheer savagery of their attack. The manner in which they cut a swathe through the Fomorii was almost hypnotic in its brutality.
The spell was broken when someone grabbed his arm. Church whirled, ready to lash out. He caught himself when he saw it was Tom, then roughly pushed him away in disgust.
'They don't control me all the time!' Tom protested.
'I can't believe you!' Church began searching for Veitch and Shavi.
'Then don't! But heed me-don't let the Redcaps see you! They're being controlled to attack the Fomorii, but their natural enemy is man!'
Just as Tom spoke, one of the creatures broke off his dismemberment of a Fomor and stared in Church's direction. A second later it had broken away from the pack and was running towards him, its face contorted with rage.
Church moved at once, sprinting painfully off to one side, but the Redcap followed him unerringly. There were still Fomorii everywhere, though most of them had turned on the attacking Redcaps and were attempting to repel the intruders. He tried to weave among the Fomorii, who were too distracted to pay him any attention, but still the Redcap dogged his heels. And now he could hear the noise it was making-a roar like a big cat that set the hairs on the back of his neck rising.
Then, through the turmoil, he spotted Shavi curiously up high, waving to him frantically. He turned and ran in his direction.
Emerging through a pack of Fomorii, Church saw Shavi standing on the top of Callow's car while the battle raged all about. Veitch was at the rear with the boot open, repeatedly smashing his fist into Callow's face, which had dissolved into a bloody pulp. But it was Witch's expression that concerned him the most: he was lost to the violence and rage. Church barged past him, almost stumbling into the boot, and flicked open the crate. A shimmer of blue fire crackled through the talismans. As Church reached in to grab the sword, he was taken aback to feel it leap into his hand. He whirled round with the sword raised just as the Redcap thundered towards him, roaring like the wind, a strangely shaped, heavily chipped axe raised above its head.
As the axe came down, Church parried the blow, half-expecting his sword to shatter. But it held firm, although the force of the clash jarred every bone in his body. He stumbled backwards against the car, fighting to regain his equilibrium. Then, as the Redcap raised the axe for another blow, Church lashed out madly. The sword hacked into the creature's face like a knife slicing through butter. Greenish blood showered all over him, burning his skin where it landed, and the Redcap slumped to its knees, dead.
Church yanked the sword out with an effort, then turned and caught Witch's arm mid-punch. 'Leave him. We've got to get out of here.'
Without waiting for an answer, he clambered atop the car alongside Shavi, to get a better view. 'Any way out?'
'I cannot see one,' Shavi replied.
Oddly, Church found himself unable to focus on the Fomorii fighting the battle. He could see movement, flying blood and limbs, could hear the terrible sounds they were making, but beyond that it was almost as if they had merged into one lake of darkness which was roiling in the grip of a furious storm.
But he could see what remained of the Redcaps hacking a path directly to the car. 'They want the talismans too,' he said with sudden certainty. And then it came to him. Scanning the vicinity, he soon spotted the unmistakable flurry of movement in a field picked out in silver by the moon's light. Mollecht and a small group of Fomorii waited patiently.
'Whoever wins the talismans, gains the power,' he muttered to himself. He turned to Shavi. 'Infighting. Suits me fine. Now how-'
He was cut off by a high-pitched, shrieking cry in the nerve-jarring Fomorii dialect. Calatin had spotted them and was trying to divert his troops from the Redcaps to a defence of the talismans. Church felt a gush of icy fear drench him as the entire ranks of Fomorii and Redcaps turned as one to face him.
Ruth watched the chaos break out from further up the road, but from that distance it was impossible to tell exactly what was happening. She watched anxiously, wishing she were confident enough to make a decision, batting away Laura's increasingly irritated calls for information. But then her attention was caught by the briefest shimmer of blue fire and she picked out Church and Shavi standing on the car roof.
'Hold tight,' she said as she spun the van around in the road.
'You can't leave them!' Laura yelled angrily.
'I'm not. I'm …'-she took a deep breath and slammed the van into reverse-'… ramraiding.' Then she popped the clutch and the van shot backwards with such force Laura screamed. 'I said hold tight!' Ruth shouted above the roar of the engine.
They thundered into the middle of the Fomorii as if they were crashing into a forest. Every time they hit one, something buckled; the nearside was so badly dented Ruth was sure it was going to cave in. The rear windows shattered, showering Laura with glass, then the doors burst open and the one that had been replaced at Glastonbury was torn off. Ruth kept her foot on the accelerator and her gaze on the wing mirror, although she was shaking from head to toe. Even if they made it to Church, she wondered if the van would be in any condition to get them out.
But then she saw the car's headlamps loom up and she popped the brakes, stopping an inch or so from its bumper. Before she had thrust the gear stick into first, Veitch had launched himself into the back, with the crate under one arm and the spear in the other hand. Church and Shavi dived in after.
The Fomorii were already regrouping. Ruth revved the engine and prepared to drive.
'Wait!' Church called out. She saw him scramble to the back of the van and drag in a bedraggled figure. It was Tom.
'Leave him!' Veitch yelled. 'He's a fucking traitor!'
