'And let's face it, I'm a different person now,' Laura continued. 'I've done a few drugs in my time. It's not big or clever, but, hey, I enjoyed myself. And if you've done drugs you know they change you. Suddenly you find yourself apart from all your old friends who haven't done them. They couldn't ever understand what you've been through without experiencing it themselves. After crossing over to that castle, that's how I feel now. It was such a big thing, such a lifechanging experience, bigger than the wildest trip, there isn't a single person on earth who understands me now. Except you. We've got an affinity, Church-dude. We're beyond everyone else. Could you go back to your life after that?'
Church felt Ruth stiffen beside him. He couldn't tell if Laura was specifically trying to annoy her by making her feel excluded, but he guessed she was. 'We've all experienced weird things,' he said. 'I suppose that puts us on common ground.'
'But we don't have to like each other,' Ruth said coldly.
Laura looked away; nothing seemed to concern her.
'So what's all this nonsense about Brothers and Sisters of Dragons?' Ruth said directly to Church. 'It sounds like some ridiculous secret society.'
'She was implying we were important somehow. Different. Special.' He wrinkled his nose; it didn't make sense to him either.
Ruth snorted ironically. 'The way you told it suggested it was some kind of destiny thing. But we wouldn't be here now if we hadn't been under Albert Bridge at that particular moment in time, and that was chance. A big coincidence. If I hadn't had that row with Clive and got out of the taxi, if you'd stayed in bed for five minutes longer, none of this would have happened to us. So how can it be destiny?'
Church shrugged. 'Well, she wasn't lying to me-at least it didn't seem that she was. Maybe she was mistaken.'
'She wasn't lying,' Laura said emphatically.
'How do you know?'
'I just feel it.'
'But maybe that explains why those things have been going for the nuclear option in trying to stop us,' Church mused. 'It would have helped if the mystery woman had told us exactly what our little dragon group is supposed to do. Something about our heritage, she said-'
'If Tom were here I bet he'd have something to say about it,' Ruth mused.
'Yeah, he'd be sitting back dispensing enigmatic wisdom like Yoda,' Church said. 'He was obviously keeping stuff from us-we couldn't trust him. Maybe we're better off without him.'
'Do you reckon he's scattered in bits and pieces across Salisbury?' Laura stared out some elderly local who was watching her curiously.
'Who knows where he is. Maybe he fell through another of those holes in the air. Maybe he's hiding out and doing this just to wind us up.'
'Oh, he helped us out, Church. He was just selective in what he said.' Ruth pondered for a moment, before adding, 'He seemed a little scared when you told him about that black dog.'
'You should have seen it.'
Ruth glanced out of the window, but the lights were too bright within to see anything clearly. 'I wonder how much longer we've got?'
'What do you mean?'
'Before the next thing comes after us. The Wild Hunt, Tom said. The worst thing we could expect.'
Outside the pub, while they waited for Church to return from the toilet, Ruth could no longer contain herself. Laura was chewing on some gum and kicking stones at the parked cars.
'You ought to know I don't trust you,' Ruth said, 'and I'm going to be keeping an eye on you.'
'Ask me if I'm bothered.' Laura continued to boot the stones; one rattled on the side of a brand new BMW.
'You should be.'
'What do you want me to do, cry myself to sleep because you don't like me? Wake up, it's never going to happen.'
Ruth wanted to slap her, but she controlled herself. 'What's wrong with you? This is a nightmare. We could die at any moment. You could at least make the effort to get on.'
'I am who I am, Miss Boring Pants. Like it or lump it.'
'Really? You expect me to believe DuSantiago is your real name? Lots of South Americans in Salisbury, I suppose. And you really haven't tried hard to build up that cool, hard exterior? Yeah, right.'
'Nice sermon. Pity you're talking out of your arse. You don't know anything about me.'
'That's the problem. If you opened up, we could start trusting you … if you really want to help.'
'Don't go getting all touchy-feely, New Agey on me. I'm not one for hugs and baring my soul.' A stone bounced off the bonnet of a Volvo and set the car alarm blaring. Laura turned back to Ruth, her face lit by the flashing indicator lights. 'I'm as committed to this as you are. That's all you need to know.'
'No, it's-' Ruth caught her tongue as Church emerged from the pub.
'So … a night in the car. Should be very restful,' he said ironically.
'Lucky me. I get the bijou back seat.' When Laura dropped into step next to Church, Ruth felt an odd twinge of loneliness, as if she were slowly being cut out.
'You think we'll be safe there?' she said.
'As safe as anywhere. At least we'll be able to drive off if anything happens.' He laughed quietly to himself.
Ruth trailed behind them, overcome by the sudden knowledge that her friendship with Church had become deeper than she realised. How had that happened? she wondered. Their situation was complicated enough without bringing emotions into the fray, but somehow the whole stupid mess had blindsided her. She looked at Laura and hated herself for feeling a twinge of jealousy that the cosy relationship she had with Church was being interrupted. She just hoped she was level-headed enough to prevent her feelings from getting in the way during the difficult times ahead.
Church woke at first light. His joints ached, his feet felt like ice and there was a band of pain across his thigh where his leg had been jammed under the steering wheel. Sleep had been intermittent, troubled by the discomfort of his quarters, nightmares and fears of things off in the dark. He resolved to buy a tent for any future emergencies. But the moment he wiped the condensation from the window with the back of his hand, any grumbles were swept away by the beauty of the early spring day. The sun was just breaking above the horizon, painting the few clouds golden beneath a sky that was slowly turning blue. Among the stones a faint mist rose and drifted, and a stillness lay across the whole area. From his viewpoint, there was no sign of the twentieth century; it could have been anytime. The thought sent prickles down his spine, adding to the haunting quality of the moment that left him feeling like he had been cut adrift from the life he once knew.
Ruth and Laura were still sleeping. He was instantly struck by how beautiful they both looked, in their own ways, once the troubles of the day were stripped from their faces.
But as he wondered if he should wake them, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye that jolted him alert. A man was perched on a fencepost next to a hawthorn hedge, eyeing the car intently. Church had to look twice to convince himself it was what he had seen; the watcher was old, thin and angular with skin so sun- browned he seemed almost like a spindly tree growing out of the hedge. He was holding a long, gnarled wooden staff that must have been at least six feet tall, and his grey-black hair hung lank and loose around his shoulders. Apart from his clothes-mud-spattered sandals, well-worn, baggy brown trousers and a white cheesecloth shirt open to the waist-he resembled nothing so much as the pictures Church had seen of the men who helped raise the stones and build the longbarrows that were scattered across the landscape.
'Who is that?' Ruth's voice was sleepy. She rubbed her bleary eyes as she leaned close to Church to peer at the onlooker.
Laura stirred and after a few seconds she too was up, resting her elbows on the backs of their seats. She already had on her sunglasses. 'Probably just a peeping tom,' she said throatily. 'Thought we'd been having a little three-way here in the car. Let's put on a show-see if he goes blind.'
'Just some local,' Church muttered. He opened the door and climbed out. The air was chilly despite the sun, and he couldn't prevent a convulsive shiver. The only sound was that of the birds in chorus. Ruth and Laura joined
