Church bundled the man towards the front of the van, then called for Ruth to go. The van shot forward just as a Fomor punched a hole through the offside. Others were ready to clamber through the open doors. Ruth swung the van from side to side to throw off any that might be clinging on, then ploughed through whatever was in her path. The van was tossed and turned as if it were in an earthquake; she lost the wing mirror; one headlamp exploded; a terrible whine started to come from the engine.
But somehow she managed to keep going. And when they rumbled over the last body and hit the open road, she was so overcome with relief her eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away before any of the others could see, then moved through the gears rapidly. Soon the dark, turbulent countryside was whizzing by and they were heading back in the direction of the motorway.
Chapter Twenty
'I still say we should have dumped him.' Veitch was squatting dangerously near the missing door, trying to tend to his neck wound with the van's depleted first aid kit.
'He had his flaws, but he was okay before those bastards stuck that parasite in his head.' Church watched Tom surreptitiously as he sat quietly with his back to the driver's seat, bound with the tow rope. He looked about a hundred years old; his skin was sallow, his grey hair matted, and there was a crack across one of the lenses of his wire-rimmed spectacles.
'I tried to fight it,' Tom said. 'Every time it attempted to make me do something against my will, I tried.'
Church recalled the blood that had been streaming from his nose, ears and eyes at the roadside before the Baobhan Sith attacked, and realised just how hard he had fought.
'It doesn't matter,' Veitch continued. 'He's still a liability. However much he wants to help us, that thing in his head means he could turn against us any time. If you don't want to just throw him out the back, we should at least leave him at the side of the road somewhere.'
'If you leave me, you'll never discover what you have to do with the talismans to summon the Tuatha De Danann,' Tom said pointedly.
Veitch bristled, and made to advance on him. 'You trying to blackmail us now?'
'Leave it, Ryan.' Church turned to Tom. 'Is this another of your great deceits, or can we get a kernel of truth out of you this time?'
'I know,' Tom stressed. 'You need me.'
'Perhaps that creature in his head could be removed,' Shavi suggested.
'What? We should kidnap a brain surgeon next?' Veitch said sarcastically.
'There might be a way,' Tom said.
Church eyed him suspiciously. 'Who could do a thing like that?'
'No one on this earth.' Tom gave a sickly cough. 'Just take me home.'
They debated the matter as they limped through the remaining hours of night towards the motorway. Veitch was adamant he didn't want to follow any advice from Tom in case they were led into another trap, but Church felt Tom was telling the truth. He finally extracted a promise from him that he would tell them everything if they helped him, and that was enough of a spur to convince the others; without his information they were lost anyway.
Home for Tom was near Melrose on the Scottish borders, not far in terms of distance, but it might as well have been a million miles. The engine's insistent whine told them the van wouldn't last much longer, and even if they managed to get it fixed, the damage to the body was so bad the police would pull them over the moment they got on to the motorway.
When dawn finally broke and the landscape was transformed into a place they all recognised, they stopped at a small farm not far from the M6. The farmer was pleasant enough to suggest the nightmares they had experienced at the heart of the Lake District hadn't yet touched his borders. Even at that time of day he was a canny negotiator though, and he offered to give up his own battered Transit-a second vehicle that was at least ten years old and looked like it barely moved-only for Laura's portable PC. But at least his Transit was whole, and although the exhaust rattled noisily, it allowed them to continue on their way.
The day was already turning fine, with just a few streaky clouds on the horizon to mar the blue sky, but the atmosphere in the van was depressive. Although they had regained the talismans, they had paid a huge price. Laura looked sicker than ever, and they were worried she had developed an infection in some of the wounds; Church was concerned that if they didn't get her to a doctor soon she could become fatally ill. Veitch, Shavi and Church himself were all weakened from their experience and bore numerous wounds inflicted by the Baobhan Sith, with Witch's neck the worst. Church was convinced the Baobhan Sith had wanted to kill them, but whatever control Calatin exerted had somehow restrained them at the last. Only Ruth seemed to have the strength to continue, and Church could sense she had changed in some way he couldn't quite understand; she seemed far removed from the woman he had first encountered under Albert Bridge.
The journey up the M6 was uneventful, but their vigilance didn't waver; they knew either Calatin or Mollecht would be on their trail soon enough; however, their own little difficulties had been resolved, and with the Fomorii's shapeshifting abilities, everyone they encountered would have to be studied carefully.
Tom began to speak more freely as soon as he saw the others were behind him, even though Veitch appeared to be unable to forgive him. As they dissected their experiences in the Lake District, Tom chipped in with occasional pieces of information, about the Baobhan Sith, and about the Redcaps, whom he claimed used to stalk the Border counties in the days when man was first beginning to get a foothold on the island. The battles between the two were bloody, but the Redcaps were eventually driven back into the wildernesses, their numbers dwindling until they eventually retreated to Otherworld. He declined to answer any questions about how he came by the information.
They took the M6 past Carlisle and then crossed the border into Scotland and headed up to Galashiels. Heavy traffic on the motorway and the arterial road suggested an unshakable normality, which jarred with what they had witnessed in the Lakes. Tom told them to make the most of the facade; it would soon all change.
Melrose was a compact town below the Eildon Hills on the south bank of the Tweed, dominated by a twelfth century Cistercian abbey. They parked the van near the golf course and wearily stretched their legs; it seemed like weeks since they had slept. Tom claimed his original home had been in the nearby village of Earlston, but after his wanderings began he found a new and unspecified home in the hills.
Church surveyed the three volcanic peaks which seemed to rise to at least a thousand feet. 'You're expecting us to climb up there?' he said incredulously. 'Look at us-we're on our last legs. Laura can barely stand.'
'You could always carry me in your big, strong masculine arms, Churchdude,' Laura said ironically.
'Two of us could accompany Tom,' Shavi suggested, but Church instantly vetoed the idea.
'After what happened in the Lake District, nobody should be isolated. We ought to stay together, and carry the talismans with us at all times until we get a chance to use them.'
Laura levered herself into a sitting position. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent and her hair was matted to her forehead. 'There's a real stink of testosterone round here. Listen, don't wrap me in cotton wool-I'm not some fragile girlie. You might have to take baby steps, but I'll keep up with you.' Church began to protest, but she pulled a tape measure from the tool box and threw it at his head. He ducked at the last moment, and when he saw her searching for more ammunition, he knew he would have to relent.
They took a path beside the golf course. Although the day was sunny, the air had a definite crispness. They passed slowly through gently inclining fields where cows grazed lazily before reaching the wooded lower slopes of the rounded hills. True to her word, Laura kept pace, but Church could see the effort and pain played out on her face; she never complained, nor asked for help. Yet the weakness that occasionally consumed her when they broke for rests gave him cause for concern; he could almost see her health deteriorating before his eyes.
As the afternoon drew on, grey clouds swept in from the northeast and the chill in the air took on a sharp edge. They became increasingly worried about being caught out in the hills in a storm, or not making it back before
