people of my world thought.'
He smiled. 'Even the gods have gods. There is always something higher.'
'Are you gods?'
He raised his open hands, but gave nothing away.
Church watched Laura for a while, but could tell nothing from her face. The only relief he felt was that at last he had some time alone to deal with the mess he felt inside. It was as if the moment he had reached out to touch Laura's back at Manorbier, his emotions had split open like a ripe peach. He didn't know how to deal with any of them; every single thought and sensation was almost unbearable. He fumbled anxiously with Marianne's locket, but it seemed to have lost its magic; nothing could calm him.
Worse, he still couldn't shake off the sensation of cold which seemed to be eating into his marrow. There was a thin coating of frost on the Black Rose which he constantly dusted away, only to see it replaced every time he secretly inspected it. He wondered if the rose itself were actually the cause of the iciness, but he didn't seem able to let himself consider that too deeply. He certainly couldn't bring himself to throw the flower away,
About an hour later, Ogma was ready to deal with Tom. They gathered in a room that was bare, apart from a sturdy oaken table and a small desk on which lay a range of shining silver instruments of indefinable use; Church was instantly reminded of Calatin's torture rack. While Tom climbed on to the table, apparently unafraid of what lay ahead, the others gathered in one corner to watch the proceedings.
'How's Laura?' Ruth whispered to Church.
His weary head shake told her all she needed to know. She didn't probe further, but deep down she wondered how the five Brothers and Sisters of Dragons would fare if one of them were missing.
Ogma applied some thick, white salve to Tom's lips and while it didn't knock him out, it must have anaesthetised his nerve endings, for a second later the god began to slice into Tom's temple with a long, cruel knife; Tom didn't flinch at all, but Ruth closed her eyes.
The salve must have done something to the blood flow too, for despite the depth of the incision, there was little bleeding. Ogma followed in with a handpowered drill which ground slowly into Tom's skull as the god rotated the handle; all the time Tom's eyes flickered as he stared implacably at the vaulted ceiling.
But then, as the judder of Ogma's hand showed the drill had broken through, a transformation came over Tom: his eyes appeared to fill with blood and his face contorted into an expression of such primal rage it made him unrecognisable. The salve had worked its power on his body too, for it was obvious he couldn't move his arms and legs, but he opened his mouth to yell and scream in the hideous Fomorii language. Ogma ignored him, but it was so disturbing to see that the others had to look away and even Veitch blanched.
Then, as they looked back, they saw the strangest thing. The drill hole must only have been a pencil-width, but somehow Ogma seemed to work the tips of two fingers in there, then three, then four, and then his entire hand was sliding into the side of Tom's forehead. Tom shrieked and raged impotently, but Ogma simply laid his other hand on his head to hold it still. Finally his hand was immersed right up to his forearm before he began to withdraw it.
Church winced; Ruth gagged and covered her mouth with her hand; Veitch and Shavi were transfixed.
And then, with a twist of his wrist, Ogma's hand came free. Clutched in his now-stained fingers was a wriggling thing which looked like a human organ, slick with blood and pulsating. But worst of all was that the shriek that had been coming from Tom's mouth was now emanating from the Caraprix. The cry soared higher and higher and they had to cover their ears to protect themselves. When it reached its climax, the thing began to mutate. At first it started taking on the hard form of a weapon, then something furry with needle teeth, but before it could fix its shape, Ogma dropped it on to the table and brought his enormous fist down on it hard. It burst like a balloon filled with blood.
In the silence that followed the insane shrieking, the room seemed to hang still; then Ruth turned away, coughing, and the others muttered various epithets of disgust.
Ogma turned to them. 'It is done,' he said redundantly. 'True Thomas will recover apace. The Caraprix is a parasite, but it causes no permanent damage to its victim.'
'They're hideous!' Ruth said, still refusing to look at the splattered mess on the table.
Ogma seemed uncomfortable at this. 'The Danann have their own Caraprix,' Tom interjected. He levered himself up from the table with remarkable sprightliness after what he had just been through; the hole in his head had already healed.
Ogma removed a clasp from his robes, which transformed itself into a shape like an egg with tendrils, glowing bright white. 'Tools, weapons, faithful companions,' he said.
Church eyed it suspiciously for a second, then helped Tom to his feet, although he didn't appear to need it. 'We have much to do,' Tom said with a vigour Church recognised from the first time they had met. 'A brief rest, a talk about what lies ahead, and then we must be away, for Beltane is now too close for any more delays.'
After the operation, Ogma had lost himself among the chambers, leaving them free to talk and plan. They gathered in a dark, echoing room which resembled a baronial hall. At one end a log fire blazed in a fireplace so big Church could easily have walked into it, and collected before it were several sturdy wooden chairs with studded leather seats and backs. For some reason, no torches burnt in that room so they pulled the chairs up closer to the fire.
Tom had centre stage, his newly repaired glasses glinting in the firelight, his eyes merely pits of shadow. 'I'll answer all your questions as best I can,' he said, 'but I caution you that I don't know all.' He took a sip of wine from a goblet rescued from the dining room.
'Tell us what you know about the Bastards,' Veitch said; it was how he had taken to describing the Fomorii.
Tom nodded. 'Some said their forefather was Ham, who was cursed by Noah, and that curse transformed every descendant into a misshapen monster. Others claimed they were born in the all-encompassing darkness before the universe began.' The fire cracked, spurting a shower of sparks up the chimney, and they all jumped. The shadows at their backs seemed uncomfortable and claustrophobic. 'They were led by Balor, the one-eyed god of death,' Tom continued, and for a second his voice wavered. Church looked round suddenly; he had the unnerving feeling someone was standing just behind his chair.
'Balor.' Shavi shifted uncomfortably. 'That is the name I heard in my trance.'
'The embodiment of evil,' Tom continued. 'Born of filth and corruption. So terrible that whoever he turned his one eye upon was destroyed.'
The room grew still; even the crackling of the fire seemed to retreat.
'In the first times, Balor led the Night Walkers across the land and all fell before them. After that we have only the myths to enable us to understand what happened. Before the Fomorii invasion, the Tuatha De Danann were led by Nuada, known as Nudd, known as Nuada Airgetlamh-Nuada of the Silver Arm-for the replacement created by Dian Cecht he wore for the hand he lost in the first battle of Magh Tuireadh. But because of his disability, the Danann deemed him not fit to lead them against the Fomorii and he was replaced by Breas, who was renowned for his great beauty.
'Except Breas was half-Fomorian and he allowed the Night Walkers to terrorise the land and enslave the Danann. Dian Cecht grew Nuada a new hand and he regained his position, but by then it was too late-he couldn't break the grip of the Fomorii.
'All seemed lost until Lugh presented himself to Nuada at Tara. Lugh, the god of the Sun, known as Lleu, or Lug, or Lugos, was a young, handsome warrior, but he, too, was part-Fomorii. Indeed, his grandfather was Bator. Lugh rallied the Danann and they rose against the Fomorii. All hung in the balance until the two sides faced each other at the second battle of Magh Tuireadh. It seemed that once again the battle would go the way of the Fomorii. But then Lugh, with the spear you recovered in Wales, fought his way through the lines and plunged it into Bator's eye. The Dark God was slain instantly and the Fomorii fell apart.' He sipped at the wine thoughtfully. 'Yes, Bator is a terrible threat. But the Danann who helped defeat him still exist, locked in the place where the Wish-Hex banished them.'
'Then there is hope,' Church said.
'Is that how their original war really happened?' Ruth asked.
Tom shrugged. 'The Danann will no longer discuss that time. It was a period of great upheaval for them. At least now we know what the Fomorii are trying to do.' Veitch looked at him blankly. 'The truth was there in Shavi's vision, and Calatin confirmed it. They are attempting to bring back Balor.'
