 
The Rules

Book I: The End

Jon Jacks

Other New Adult and Children's books by Jon Jacks

The Caught – Chapter One – The Changes – Sleeping Ugly

The Barking Detective Agency – The Healing – The Lost Fairy Tale

A Horse for a Kingdom – Charity – The Most Beautiful Things – The Last Train

The Dream Swallowers – Nyx; Granddaughter of the Night – Jonah and the Alligator

Glastonbury Sirens – Dr Jekyll's Maid – The 500-Year Circus

P – The Endless Game – DoriaN A – Wyrd Girl

Heartache High (Vol I) – Heartache High: The Primer (Vol II) – Heartache High: The Wakening (Vol III)

Miss Terry Charm, Merry Kris Mouse & The Silver Egg – Seecrets – The Wicker Slippers – The Cull

Text copyright© 2012 Jon Jacks

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author.

Thank you for your support

Fearing that the war against demons, sprites and fays was being lost,

Merlin brought the time of magic to an end,

imprisoning both good and bad in a most enduring substance,

to be withheld therein for over a thousand years.

_Gesta Britanniæ_ , Maidulph of Malmesbury, c680

*

# Chapter 1

That was fifteen times that the flipped coin had come up tails, against only five heads.

That was fifteen times Beth had been slapped hard across the cheek by a grinning Donna.

'It's a trick coin! It's weighted!'

Beth glared in wide-eyed dismay at the coin.

Donna had balanced it on her thumb once again, in preparation for another flip.

'You think so?'

Donna smirked knowingly at her friends.

Holding back from flicking the coin, she clamped her free hand over it, keeping it in place.

'So, you want to change your choice, eh? Heads you get a smack? Tails I slap myself in surprise?'

Donna lightly rubbed one side of the coin with her thumb.

The thumb tip darkened, as if she were wiping away years of accumulated dirt.

'No, no! I want to finish this game now, please Donna.'

Beth didn't want to give Donna the satisfaction of hearing her plead for mercy.

But she didn't want to suffer more slaps to her sore, reddened cheeks either.

Her nose was already bleeding, the blood dripping down and staining her smart school blazer.

She gave a half-hearted struggle, hoping that Claris and Kate would loosen their painfully tight grip on her arms.

'A game?'

Donna swapped wicked, knowing smirks with her friends once again.

'This isn't a _game_ , Bedlam.'

Beth cringed.

She hated her nickname.

She'd had it ever since a lesson on Victorian London. Everyone had snickered when they heard that Bethlehem Hospital had given us the word 'Bedlam'.

'This is an _experiment_ ,' Donna continued. 'And you're our _guinea_ _pig_.'

Taking a felt-tip pen out of her blazer's inner pocket, Donna began to draw a large eye on one side of the coin.

The darkened tip of her thumb was the same black of the pen's ink, suggesting that she had wiped away a previous drawing.

Donna drew a triangle around the eye.

Then she turned the coin over.

The coin's embossed head already had a large eye surrounded by a triangle drawn across it. On this side, Donna quickly added a few more lines inside the triangle.

'Heads, it's a slap!' Donna blew on the ink to quickly to dry it. 'Right Jonesy?'

Grabbing the back of Beth's head, Claris forced her to vigorously nod.

The coin spun in the air.

It landed on the floor.

Heads.

_Slap_!

*

'You've gone too far this time, Donna Howard!'

Even in her dazed, tearful state, Beth realised that help was suddenly at hand.

There was a sense of authority and anger in the voice of the person determinedly stomping towards them.

Heads had come up time after time, interspersed with remarkably few tails.

Beth had been slapped time after time.

Beth had tried not to cry. Tried not to give Donna, Claris and Kate the satisfaction of seeing they were finally getting to her.

But the slaps were hard. Her cheeks were smarting. Her skin stinging.

She felt humiliated, helpless, frustrated.

She couldn't even free a hand from Claris and Kate's firm grip.

She felt that it was all so unfair, too.

She had got herself into this by trying to rescue Georgina Jackson, their original victim.

As soon as Beth had managed to pull Georgina free of Claris and Kate's grip, Georgina had ungratefully run off.

And now Claris and Kate held _her_ in Georgina's place.

'Let Jones go _now_ , Baxter, Dunn!'

As the burning grip on her arms finally loosened, Beth recognised the shrilly-commanding voice of Miss Hilary.

Through Beth's tearful stare, the delicate sharpness of Miss Hilary's face blended into her unflattering bob of mousey hair.

'It's only a game Miss,' Donna brazenly protested. 'Isn't that right Beth?'

This was Donna's usual explanation to any teacher catching her bullying.

The victim would always agree.

They feared a violent retribution later if they didn't.

Miss Hilary wasn't in the mood to wait for Beth's answer.

'Only a game, Howard? _Look_ at her!'

Donna saw something entirely different to Miss Hilary.

Miss Hilary saw a girl near to sobbing. A girl with cheeks so red from being slapped that they glowed.

Donna saw the redness of the skin, but regretted that it hadn't been enough to draw more pleas for mercy.

'But Miss!'

Donna retorted petulantly, holding up the coin before Miss Hilary's face.

'Jones agreed that she'd slap me if tails came up. And I'd slap her if it was heads. Isn't that right, girls?'

'That's right Miss!' Claris and Kate blurted out together.

Miss Hilary was far from being an intimidating figure.

Her precariously thin body seemed incapable of supporting her head. The girls called her 'the Praying Mantis'.

But she had a natural inclination to refer even the smallest matter to a higher authority, as befits a religious studies teacher.

'Is that right Jones?'

For a moment, Miss Hilary latched her angry eyes onto Beth.

She suddenly turned on Donna.

'Then can you explain, Howard, why Jones's cheeks are so red? And why _yours_ have hardly been touched?'

Donna's cheeks were red, but only from the exertion of slapping Beth as hard as she could.

'It was the coin Miss! It kept coming up heads so–'

'Is this right Jones?' Miss Hilary asked once again.

'Well, yes, but...'

'But nothing Jones! So you _did_ agree to this stupid game!'

'No Miss! I mean I–'

Before Beth could explain, Miss Hilary spun to face Donna once again.

'I'm still not fooled Howard! Why were Baxter and Dunn holding her?'

Her penetrating gaze fell on the now nervously squirming girls.

'Because she was refusing to go along with the rules miss! When heads kept coming up! She accused me of cheating miss! She said I was using a weighted coin.'

Miss Hilary held her hand out for the coin.

'And _is_ it weighted?'

'Oh no Miss!' Claris and Kate piped up together once again.

With an offended pout, Donna placed the coin in Miss Hilary's open palm.

'We let Jones change her choice halfway through, miss. She chose tails first!'

Miss Hilary tested the coin in her palm.

She twirled it between the fingers of her other hand.

'Is that right Jones?' Her tone was tersely critical. 'Did you change your initial choice?'

'Yes Miss,' Beth answered resignedly.

'I thought you had more sense than this Jones! All of you; you're coming with me to–'

She faltered.

She was closely observing the coin for the first time.

'What's this?'

Her eyes were wide with anger. She whirled on Donna.

'Did you say it always fell heads up?'

Donna swapped confused glances with Claris and Kate.

'Yes...yes Miss.'

Donna spluttered hesitantly, amazed by the fury etched across Miss Hilary's face.

'Heads kept coming up–'

'These _symbols_!' Miss Hilary spat out the word with disgust. 'Who drew them?'

She stared hard at the girls, but didn't give them chance to reply.

'Do you know _what_ the symbols mean? Are you really saying God always loses out to the Devil?'

All the girls, including Beth, now looked at each other in confusion.

What was all this about God and the Devil?

Surely Miss Hilary was completely overreacting?

'I...I don't know what you mean Miss.' Donna was uncharacteristically flustered. 'My brother showed me the symbols. It's a trick he learned in the pub–'

'Trick? You call _this_ a trick?'

Miss Hilary held up the coin as if it were the most damming evidence in a trial for murder.

'It's nothing serious Miss, it–'

Donna had made the mistake of smiling as she spoke.

Miss Hilary cut her short, her eyes blazing.

Her voice was a petrifying screech.

_'I_ think it's _very_ serious, Miss Howard! _Very_ serious indeed!'

She gripped Donna's arm.

'The headmistress; yes! I think this is a matter for the headmistress! Come along with me now!'

Donna resisted Miss Hilary's attempts to drag her away.

She squirmed, grimaced, leant back.

Miss Hilary pulled harder, catching the slightly smaller girl off balance. Forcing her to follow.

Everyone was astonished.

It was so unlike Miss Hilary to be so aggressive, so physical.

It was also an action that would undoubtedly lead to her dismissal.

It might even be the end of her career as a teacher.

'Come on!' she shrieked at the dumbfounded girls.

She shocked them into surly movement.

Miss Hilary tugged hard on Donna's arm once again.

Sensing that she was losing respect in her friends' eyes, Donna began leaning back, shuffling her feet lazily.

She was offering as much resistance as she dared.

'You can't treat Donna like that Miss!' Claris snapped. 'We'll have the law on you–'

'Yes, yes! The law Miss!'

Claris's outburst had given Donna a renewed sense of self-righteousness.

A sense that she was being unfairly picked upon.

She wrenched back on her arm, almost breaking Miss Hilary's grip.

'Let _go_ of me you old bag of bon–'

Grabbing Donna's arm with both hands, Miss Hilary violently pulled her back.

With her free hand, Donna pushed brutally hard against Miss Hilary's chest.

The push sent the surprised teacher stumbling back towards a high wall they were passing.

Miss Hilary struck the wall so hard, it forced the breath out of her.

Her grip on Donna's arm instantly relaxed.

Donna flung herself aside, away from Miss Hilary's reach.

Beth was the first to notice the cracks in the wall.

They spread out swiftly from the area of impact. They zigzagged higher and higher between the grey stones.

'Look out Miss!'

Hearing the ominous cracking, Miss Hilary glanced back fearfully at the rapidly disintegrating wall.

She raised her arms, a vain attempt to protect her head from the first of the heavily falling blocks.

With a thunderous groan, the crumbling wall toppled forward.

And Miss Hilary disappeared beneath an avalanche of stones and powdered mortar.

*

# Chapter 2

Beth toyed nervously with her new earring.

It still felt strange, even though it had joined a line-up of rings and charms dangling from her heavily pierced ear.

She was crouching as low as she could as she made her way through the field of yellowing wheat.

She was fully aware that her coal-black clothes were hardly perfect camouflage.

Still, she liked to think that it was a look that would have been appreciated by the people who had originally landscaped this area.

The way her dark makeup split her face into angled shapes.

The way she had braided her hair into (admittedly filthy) dreadlocks. Piled up high on her head.

Surely the prehistoric builders of Silbury Hill would have felt at ease with her?

Far more, surely, than they would with any of the archaeologists and engineers now tunnelling into the mound's base?

For the moment, the archaeological team had retired to their encampment of Winnebagoes and caravans for their lunch.

But Silbury Hill was still closed off to unwanted victors. A tall wire fence had been erected around the huge, ancient pyramid of earth, 'deterring fortune hunters and latter-day druids' (as it had been reported in the local press).

'It's too dangerous Beth!'

Beth's name broke up underneath a series of wracking coughs.

She spun angrily on Drek.

He was vainly attempting to silence his coughing, placing both hands firmly over his mouth. But it only seemed to make it worse.

The uncontrollable spasms went on for even longer than normal.

'Go back Drek! It _is_ dangerous, if you're going to bring everyone down on us with your coughing!'

As soon as she had said it, Beth regretted it.

Drek couldn't help coughing any more than she could help the violent headaches and weird dreams she suffered every night.

Back at the commune, Foley took away the drugs Drek had been prescribed.

Drek shouldn't allow the capitalist world to taint him, Foley would say, pocketing the drugs. Everyone knew Foley sold the pills out on the streets.

But no one contradicted Foley.

Drek's face creased in anguish, a mixture of disappointment and humiliation.

He pitifully stared at Beth through his broken spectacles. One lens had splintered and been repaired with nothing more than a sticking plaster, like some poor kid from a pre-war movie.

Drek could easily get himself a new pair, obviously, but he preferred it like this.

Beth was one of the few people who knew the plaster hid an eye as lifeless as those staring back at you from a fishmonger's stall.

'I'll...I'll head back then,' Drek stammered.

Even so, his one good eye was wide and pleading. Pleading to be allowed to stay with Beth.

'Okay Drek,' Beth said. 'You head back.'

Drek nodded sadly. He turned around.

He made his way back along the path of crushed wheat stalks as quietly as he could, muffling his coughing and keeping low.

Beth noticed the encrusted, green-tinged grime on the back of his dark clothes. An occupational hazard of the life they had chosen.

Is that why we're called crusties? she wondered, not for the first time.

She thought of calling Drek back.

She thought better of it.

She wanted to see inside the hill.

*

Silbury Hill was thousands of years old, she had been told by various women at the commune.

A hill made entirely by man (and women!) using timbers and earth.

Religious ceremonies would have taken place around it. Ceremonies stretching out across Avebury's fields into the vast circle of huge stones, standing or toppling like abruptly petrified giants.

According to the legends she had avidly read when younger, King Arthur's magician Merlin had magically constructed Stonehenge within the blink of an eye.

Most of the commune's women wanted to believe that such magic still hovered around ancient sites like this. The men, spending most of their time in a daze of strong lager, seemed to think the sudden appearance of food in front of them worked on similar magical principals.

There was a sharp rustling of the wheat off to Beth's right.

'Foal?' Beth hissed. 'Is that you girl?'

Foal was suddenly beside Beth's side. Her tongue lolled around outside her mouth as she panted in excitement.

'Well, it's just us now, eh girl?'

Foal looked up into Beth's eyes as if she understood.

Beth smiled, somehow reassured by the dachshund's sharply intelligent face.

Foal was Foley's dog. Beth found it hard to see anything about Foley that she could like, unless you counted Foal.

She had heard that Foley had called her Foal because it was like his own name. Because he had had her since she was a drenched little pup, fresh from her mother's womb.

No one had dared say it was a stupid name for a dog. Even though most had thought it.

According to the commune's more wicca inclined women, Foal would be a mother herself before two months were up. 'It's all there to be read in her waters,' Geraldine had insisted mysteriously, patting her own growing lump.

Foal suddenly bounded away, rushing ahead of Beth.

'Foal! Don't rush off Foal!'

According to Foley, Foal was a special breed, 'A Cloth-eared sausage dog – which is why she can't hear any orders.'

Foal disappeared into the shrouding wheat.

*

Beth followed after Foal as quickly as she could.

As she had to keep her head low, that wasn't very fast at all.

'Foal! Come back here, you stupid dog!' Beth hissed irritably.

She knew she was angrier with Foal than she should be.

But if she lost Foal, Foley would kick and beat her to within an inch of her life.

Foley fed Foal on little more than scraps. But he loaned her out on a fifty-fifty basis to anyone heading into town for a few hours begging, boasting that her sad little eyes could charm a quid or two out of the stingiest passer-by.

You didn't have to do much wrong to find yourself on the end of Foley's boot.

'Foal, _please_ come back here girl!'

Damn! Who'd believe a blooming sausage dog could run so fast?

*

Even as Beth neared the edges of the field, where the wheat thinned out enough for her to see the wire fence, she still hadn't caught even a glimpse of Foal.

If Foal was still somewhere amongst all this wheat, it was bad enough; it could take Beth ages to find her.

It would be worse still, however, if the little dog had raced out into the area of stubbly grass running alongside the fence.

She might attract the attention of any archaeologist coming back early from lunch.

Lying down on the dried soil, Beth tentatively poked her head out past the stalks.

She carefully checked either way along the length of the fence.

_Damn_!

Foal was about a hundred yards from her.

And right by the base of the wire fencing.

And, as sausage dogs always seem inclined to do, she was digging away at the soil just beneath the fence.

*

# Chapter 3

Foal was attacking the soil so eagerly she could have been uncovering a whole mammoth of juicy bones.

'Foal! No!'

Beth cried out as quietly and yet as forcefully as she could manage.

If Foal heard Beth, she ignored her.

Having dug away more than enough soil, Foal scrambled beneath the fencing.

Coming out on the other side, she excitedly gambolled off towards the entrance carved into the side of the hill.

Oh no no no! Foley will kill me!

*

Earlier, Beth had wondered what she would do if she found a way into the fenced-off area.

Would she risk taking a look at the passageway rumoured to have been discovered there?

Now she had no choice.

She would have to follow Foal if she wanted to avoid a beating from Foley.

Worse still, he might even turn her over to the police.

Under Foley's first-day interrogation (interrogation _was_ the right word), Beth had insisted she was over sixteen.

Foley had smiled. Smiled like he didn't believe her. Smiled like he knew she was underage underneath all that makeup.

Smiled knowing that, someday, if he waited for the right moment, he might be able to use that information to his advantage.

*

Beth slunk back into the shrouding wheat.

Crouching low, grumbling about her misfortune, she raced as quickly as she dared around the edges of the field.

Drawing closer towards the hole created by Foal.

'Ah well! Here goes!'

Launching herself from the safety of the veiling wheat, she loped across the open space towards the fence.

She dived down towards Foal's freshly dug hole.

She coughed and sputtered as she took in mouthfuls of dirt.

The wire fence was reasonably pliable.

She bent it upwards, as much as she could.

Then, telling herself that she would be in and out in no time, she squirmed through the hole.

*

'Foal! Come back!'

Beth was furious now.

Now she was inside the wire, there was a good chance she would be seen.

Scrambling beneath the fence had also been a lot more difficult than she had expected.

The odd, sharp rock sticking up from the ground had painfully dug into her.

The straps and buckles on her jacket had caught on the wire.

Some straps had torn. The cheap buckles had bent and snapped.

But hey, looking on the bright side, it all added to her grunge look.

Foal had headed directly for the opening in the side of the hill.

Hearing Beth's hissed cry, she halted in the opening.

She looked back with a turn of her head and a raised foreleg.

Then she disappeared into the tunnel.

No no no!

*

# Chapter 4

Beth broke into a run.

She figured that if she ducked into the opening, she would at least be out of sight.

The archaeologists had only been here a few days. They had moved in after the heavy rain and strong winds of a storm had loosened and swiftly worn away some of the packed soil.

With any luck, they wouldn't have had time to dig very deeply.

Didn't they have to take special care, take things slowly, whenever they were excavating such important sites?

As soon as Foal found her way blocked, she would probably allow Beth to pick her up without too much trouble.

*

Beth's heart sank as soon as she reached the entrance.

Yes, the area carefully excavated by the archaeologists barely extended beyond the hole created by the storm.

But the rumours had been true.

They had broken through into an already existing passageway, skilfully lined with stone slabs.

The angled slabs, their tops resting against each other, formed a low, triangular tunnel.

It sloped steeply, leading deeper into the earth.

Small electrically-powered lamps had been strung up along the tunnel's sides, hanging like glowing baubles in a Christmas Grotto.

Clearly, the archaeologists had already explored the tunnel.

Some of them, excited by their discovery, might have decided to give lunch a miss; they might be down there right now, just waiting for Beth to suddenly appear amongst them.

Foal's elated yapping echoed up towards Beth along the grey, triangular corridor.

If Foal hadn't been Foley's dog, if Foley hadn't been as crazy as a rabid dog, Beth might have turned around.

She might have decided that she would just have to wait for the little sausage dog to make her own way back to the entrance.

But Foal _was_ Foley's dog.

And Foley would enjoy the irony of playing the concerned citizen, telling the police he thought Beth was a runaway.

So, ducking low beneath the sharply angled roof, Beth began to make her way down the sloping tunnel.

*

# Chapter 5

As she ducked yet again to avoid one of the hanging lamps, Beth cursed herself for her stupidity.

Her stupidity for heading down the tunnel.

Her stupidity for putting herself in a position where Foley had so much power over her.

Yeah, Foley had guessed right that she had run away from home.

And if he ever got even an inkling about the court case, well, that would only give him an extra hold over her, wouldn't it?

*

When you've got someone like Beth's mum taking the stand to vouch for your good character, what chance have you got, eh?

Standing up in the courtroom with this crazily wide-eyed smile on her face.

Like she was doped-up with every drug available from down the town's back alleys.

It didn't help that mum was called Jerusalem.

It helped even less when mum tried to calm the sniggers by saying her own mum was called Nazareth.

'It's a family tradition. We use Biblical and religious names to keep away the bad spirits.'

Talk about a gift to the prosecution team.

'Why would Beth do something crazy like killing Miss Hilary? Oh no, no, no. Not my little Bethlehem! You wouldn't, would you Beth?'

She had eagerly, helpfully admitted that she was on medication.

'Medication prescribed by the clinic! So, yes, I'm so much better now! Much, much calmer! Not at all like I used to be.'

Not that Beth had helped herself, of course.

All that about flipping the coin.

About the symbols that made it come up more regularly on one side than it did the other.

She couldn't remember what the symbols looked like.

She had tried to draw them on a coin the prosecuting counsel offered her.

It came up heads as many times as it came up tails.

It made Beth look like a liar.

Donna, Claris and Kate had smiled smugly whenever they were asked about the 'magical coin'.

They had never heard anything so crazy, they said.

Beth always made up 'crazy little tales'. Beth had 'acted crazily', trying to violently pull away from Miss Hilary.

Miss Hilary, see, had insisted that Beth needed to see the headmistress.

'No, we don't know what it was about, sir. But we all saw Beth push Miss really hard against the old wall. Everyone knew that wall was dangerous.'

Fortunately, the school had its reputation to maintain.

The wall had been sound. 'Completely safe,' the headmistress had assured the court.

There was no way that Bethlehem Jones could have known it had been recently weakened by storm damage and water erosion.

It could only have been a totally unexpected and horrific accident.

'It was just one of those strange incidents we can only put down to chance,' the court had eventually decided.

'The teacher was just somewhat unfortunate. She was pushed into a wall by Miss Jones at a time when it had been unexpectedly weakened, and by a rarely seen excess of water in the soil at that.'

Strange that, Beth thought as she followed the sounds of Foal's excited (and curiously loud and booming) yapping.

It was water damage that had got her into trouble.

And now, having opened up Silbury Hill, it was going to get her into trouble all over again.

*

Beth was disappointed when the cramped tunnel finally opened up into a wide chamber.

She had been hoping that she would find herself in something like the interior of a pyramid. Full of priceless artefacts, neatly arranged around a golden sarcophagus.

Okay, so she realised this wasn't Egypt.

But hadn't she read at school about a huge burial chamber found somewhere else in England containing a priceless helmet and beautiful armour? Hadn't there even been some kind of Viking longship buried with the king? Along with all the other things he would need to keep him safe in the afterlife?

But here – well, there was nothing here.

The chamber was empty.

Unless you included Foal, who was frantically digging a hole in in its very centre.

A hole!

Oh no! Now the archaeologists will _know_ we've been in here! And they'll accuse us of causing damage!

'Foal! No! Stop that!'

For a moment, Beth thought she had been struck around the back of the head with a ridiculously heavy pillow.

Her cry had been amplified into a low, thunderous boom.

It reverberated again and again around the semi-spherical chamber, echoing off carefully carved slate walls.

Covering her ears, she dashed towards Foal.

Apparently unaffected by the noise, the little dog was continuing to ferociously dig deeper into the soil.

'Fo–'

She cut herself short, fearing that she would once again start up the booming roar that was at last beginning to recede.

Besides, she was now staring in awe at the vast jewel Foal's frantic digging had uncovered.

It reflected the dim glow of the lamps like a huge, frozen globule of fresh blood.

Beth guessed that it was almost perfectly spherical, but it was hard to tell.

It was mounted on top of a thick, leather-wrapped stem.

Beth dropped to her knees.

Like Foal, she began to frantically dig away at and pull aside the swiftly crumbling soil.

She had forgotten, for the moment, all thoughts of being discovered.

Forgotten all worries about being accused of causing damage.

She and Foal were gradually uncovering a sword.

A beautiful sword.

And it was embedded almost to the hilt in a huge block of stone.

What? No! That's impossible!

'The Sword in the Stone!' she softly gasped.

*

# Chapter 6

Beth knew it must be a joke.

It _was_ impossible.

The Sword in the Stone was from old legends.

It had never, ever really existed.

Around where the sword's blade disappeared into the stone, Beth's digging was slowly uncovering words carved into the surface.

no form, yet form

In a frenzy now, Beth pulled more and more soil away.

She brushed aside the drier, sandier dirt falling across and obscuring the words.

Below those already uncovered, she could now read a few more words.

_here before you_.

English?

Would an ancient stone really have sentences carved in English?

Didn't they use something called runes in those days?

Above the first words uncovered, she was now revealing part of another line.

for you to see

Nothing about 'whomsoever draws this sword' then, she thought with a mixture of both relief and disappointment.

But how many more words were there for her to expose?

She dragged the earth away from both sides of the first words she had uncovered.

I have no form, yet form all things

A riddle. It was a riddle, she was sure of it.

Suddenly, Foal stopped digging.

She spun around and looked directly towards the tunnel, her ears pricked.

Beth recognised the pose. Foal had heard something, and was about to yap out a warning.

'Shhhhssssh Foal!'

Beth held up a finger in front of the little dog's face as Foal inquisitively turned towards her.

Foal remained quiet. Beth sighed with relief.

It was the only thing Foley had successfully trained Foal to do; to stop barking or yapping as soon as a single finger was raised.

Every other command was based on hard slaps or sharp kicks. Not that Foley bothered too much what Foal did as long as it didn't irritate him personally.

Beth heard voices. The casual conversation of people unhurriedly making their way down the tunnel.

Beth urgently looked about her.

Where was there to hide in a bare chamber like this?

*

Wait, what was that?

The shadows didn't appear quite right. Like there was an indent or protrusion on the otherwise smooth wall.

The lamp hanging there was also faulty. So dim it was almost dead.

The voices were louder, closer.

'Quick, over here Foal!'

Hurriedly picking up the little dog, Beth silently sprinted towards what she hoped was an oddly placed or disturbed slab.

With luck, it would stick out enough from the angled walls for her to hide behind.

Yes!

The slab projected out, if only for little more than an arm's length.

But, if she crouched, and pressed herself hard up against the wall, the darker shadows towards the ground would probably keep her hidden for at least a few minutes.

But, she realised, those few minutes were all she had.

They would find her soon enough.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

*

They kept their voices low as they entered the chamber.

The sounds only echoed lightly and momentarily.

It was just general talk; what they had read in the newspapers, or seen on television recently.

It sounded like there was at least three of them. One of them a woman.

Beth was having a hard time controlling the struggling Foal, who was trying to leap back down to the ground.

Beth twisted slightly, lowering Foal down by her side. But she kept a firm grasp on the long, squirming body.

'What the?'

Beth couldn't see who had raised his voice.

The cry boomed around the chamber, growing in anger and surprise.

It wasn't hard to guess, however, that the speaker was staring open-mouthed at the hole and the uncovered sword.

'Who...who could have done this?'

The second speaker managed to keep his voice low. Yet the sense of barely controlled fury still remained.

Beth heard them scramble towards the freshly dug hole.

Heard them crouch around the partially buried sword and stone.

Heard them hiss and mumble furiously.

'They must have buried this here while we were at lunch...'

'It's sacrilege, criminal...'

'A sword in a stone? What fools do they take us for?'

'Shusssshhh! Can you hear something?'

They all stopped talking at once.

Whatever it was the woman had heard, Beth could now hear something too.

A frantic scraping.

A scraping in tempo with Foal's writhing body.

Beth looked down.

Foal was furiously digging another hole.

*

'Foal!' Beth hissed as quietly as she could.

'Over there! There's someone over there in the shadows!'

Now Beth could hear the three archaeologists rising to their feet. They were quickly heading towards her.

She turned to pick up Foal, preparing to run.

But the loosened, sandy soil beneath her knees began to give way sickeningly, as if there wasn't anything below supporting it.

Beth reached up, frantically searching for something to stop her falling.

Her fingers clutched at and thankfully grasped the electrical cable connecting the lamps.

Just as a hole dug on a beach grows as the sand swirls away, however, the ground beneath her continued to open up – and the cable, held in place by nothing more than strong tape, snapped away from the walls.

Beth fell, tumbling down steep, curving steps.

Every drop either winded her or bruised yet another muscle.

The cable looped down with her, finally wrenching from her hand.

The faulty lamp abruptly blazed into light.

Suddenly, she was rolling across a smooth stone floor.

She came to a stop face down, gasping for breath. She groaned in agony.

Raising her head, she quickly took in her surroundings.

She was in another chamber.

Yet far from being empty, this chamber was dominated by an immense contraption of gigantic cogs and wheels.

It could have been a fabulous piece of clockwork.

Only it was made entirely of stone.

*

# Chapter 7

As she slowly rose to her feet, Beth groaned once again.

Every muscle, every limb, felt like it had been badly bruised.

As she straightened, she glanced about her.

She was in a semi-spherical chamber. It was almost identical to the one above, barring the steps she had so painfully rolled down.

Barring too, of course, the amazing contraption of stone cogs.

Rising almost to the roof in the centre, it stretched out at its base until it almost touched the sloping walls.

Most of the cogs were horizontal, but there were perpendicular and slightly angled ones too.

Some were like huge rings, with their teeth on either the top or the bottom, the inside or the outside. Smaller cogs were positioned to run around inside larger ones.

Or, rather, they _would_ be running if they were actually moving.

But everything was perfectly still.

Perfectly silent, too.

Abruptly remembering how she had ended up down here, Beth spun around, looking for Foal.

'Foal?'

I can't hear her! Please tell me she hasn't run off somewhere!

Then Beth saw her, standing near the top of the curving flight of stairs.

Beth gawped.

Foal was perfectly still, perfectly silent.

She had been frozen in mid action, as she prepared to leap from one step to a lower one.

*

'Foal? What...what's happened to you?'

What a ridiculously stupid question! How would Foal know what's happened to her?

Beth charged back up the stairs towards the frozen dog.

Carefully, Beth reached out to touch her.

The flesh was still warm.

Even so, there wasn't the slightest sign of movement. Beth couldn't even feel the rhythmic beats of Foal's breathing or her heart.

Beth sharply pulled her hand away, suddenly fearful that she might unintentionally hurt or damage the small, delicate body.

Foal's eyes shone like globules of dark amber. Her tongue, hanging from an excitedly opened mouth, glistened.

Yet there was something odd about the way they shone, like it was a dulled reflection.

Beth looked up at the lamp, hanging above them at an unnatural angle.

The light seemed – well, strange. Like it was also frozen, also dulled.

She couldn't hear the people in the chamber above. They should have been down here by now.

Were they, like Foal, frozen in mid-stride?

*

Beth swung a hand up in front of the lamp.

She glanced behind her, looking at the position on the wall where you would expect the shadow of her hand to be.

The light still illuminated the wall as if her hand wasn't there.

As if the light from the lamp had indeed been frozen; frozen in time.

As if time was standing still.

Beth spun around, staring at the stone cogs in astonishment.

Is that was this ancient machine was?

A time machine?

*

# Chapter 8

Beth was horrified.

This whole thing might be amazing – unbelievable even – but she didn't want to be stuck in a timeless world.

She leapt down the steps towards the stone machine.

Was there anything on it that would set everything back to normal?

She sprinted along one of its sides, trying to take in as much of the elaborate mechanism as she could.

She was looking for anything that might give her an idea how this damned thing worked.

Controls, controls! There must be some sort of control panel.

Or at least a lever!

But there was nothing like a lever, let alone a switch or button she could simply push to close down whatever this damn contraption was doing.

There were signs and symbols everywhere, carved into the stone and coloured with something like dye or paint.

Blazing suns, green and blue planets, clouds, what might be rain, what might be corn, what might be people.

It was all like a far more elaborate version of the pictures she had seen of an Aztec (or was it Mayan?) calendar that had been found in Mexico or some such place.

Suddenly, her eyes alighted on a symbol she recognised.

A single eye inside a triangle.

*

This eye symbol included the extra lines drawn inside the triangle that, in her nervousness, she had forgotten to add when she had been asked to draw it in court.

The lines that made the triangle look more like a pyramid.

Beth touched the symbol tentatively.

What was it doing here?

What could it mean?

She gasped as, with a harsh grinding and a splattering of dirt and dust, the cogs jerked into an incredibly languid movement.

Every wheel was sluggishly rotating, the teeth crunching as they crushed the accumulated dust of centuries of motionlessness.

Beth giggled.

She felt giddy, light-headed.

Felt like she was also beginning to slowly twirl along with the movement of the cogs.

It seemed as if she were gradually moving around the perimeter of the machine, leisurely spinning away from it.

_Wait a minute! She really_ was _spinning!_

Glancing down at her feet, she saw that she was standing on a relatively small cog, little more than a foot in diameter.

Along with all the other cogs, it was unhurriedly revolving. It was running along the inside of a massive, toothed ring carved into the floor itself.

Just as Beth prepared to jump clear, the cogs began to pick up speed, catching her off balance.

'Oohhhhherrrr!'

Her arms flailed as she hurriedly tried to straighten up, to stop herself from falling into the grating gears.

'Arrrrrrggggghhhh!'

The cog she was on whirled faster and faster, spinning her around the outside of the now violently whirring machine.

Sharply toothed gears were passing by at terrifying speed, just inches from her face and head.

'Yyyahhhhhhhh!'

As the cog came to an abrupt halt, she was hurled into the air.

'Eeeeeeeeggghhhh!'

She spun in mid-air.

'Agggghhhh!'

Once again, she was sent painfully rolling across the hard floor.

Spluttering, spitting dust from her mouth, she began to agonisingly prop herself up on her arms.

She lifted her head up from the stony ground.

'Ohhhh!' she groaned forlornly. 'Does the fun _never_ end down here?'

She instinctively swung out of the way as, out of nowhere, a ball of brown fur suddenly launched itself at her face.

A long, slobbering pink tongue completely drenched her cheek.

Up close, and temporarily out of focus, Foal was a mass of flaying legs and bright eyes. She licked Beth's face, like it was the best dish in the world.

'Foal? Foal, you're all right!' Beth screamed between her laughter.

Rolling over, she took the breathlessly excited little dog in her arms.

'It worked! Whatever I did, it worked!'

Beth abruptly stopped laughing.

She spun around, looking over to where she had heard footsteps on the stone steps.

'Whatever you did, young lady,' the woman standing on the stairs furiously exclaimed, 'it's a serious criminal offence!'

*

# Chapter 9

Not again!

I can't believe I'm in trouble like this all over again!

Beth fumed as she faced her interrogators inside the locked caravan.

She thought about making a break for it. Barging her way past anyone entering or exiting through the door.

But she would be seen and caught, of course. Long before she got anywhere near the edges of the archaeologists' camp too.

That, after all, was why she had come back here with them quietly, rather than trying to make a run for it.

She had hoped they would believe her claim that she had simply followed Foal into the tunnel ( _which was more or less true anyway, when you came to think about it)_.

Then they would let them both go, telling them to stay away in future.

_No such luck_.

They were angry about the Sword in the Stone.

It wasn't much of a joke, they said, when an important archaeological site was damaged.

Destroying cornfields to create stupid circles was one thing. But breaking into Silbury Hill; well, that was something entirely different, wasn't it?

Did Beth and her friends really think archaeologists and historians would be fooled by such a stupid trick?

The riddle was in _English_! And _modern_ English at that!

But the worst thing, the worst thing of all, was how she and her friends had risked damaging what could be the most amazing archaeological find of all time.

Why did you do that Beth?

Why did you move the calendar?

'So that's what it really is?' Beth asked. 'A calendar?'

'Don't play games with us Beth!'

The woman glared at Beth as if she were about to slap her.

'We know you and your friends – and yes, we know more people must have been involved, Beth, because you couldn't have carried and buried that thing in the upper chamber on your own! – we _know_ you must have realised it was a calendar. And we know you must have moved it. Because you moved it to today's date!'

_'Today's_ date?'

Beth gawped in astonishment. What were the chances that the moving calendar would stop on today's date?

Should she tell them that the calendar had begun moving as soon as she had touched the carved eye symbol?

Should she tell them they should be thanking her?

They would all still be frozen in time if it she hadn't set the calendar moving.

She bit her tongue to stop herself from saying any of this.

_Yeah, that's it Beth! Make sure they think you're_ really _crazy!_

'It...it must have moved when I knocked it, I suppose,' she said instead. 'I fell down the steps. I fell against it. Yeah, that's it; that must have started it.'

_'Started_ it?' One of the men, short and stumpy, studied Beth curiously.

'Well, not _started_ it. Just, yeah, as you said, moved it; by accident.'

'Moved it by _accident_ to today's date?'

The woman fixed her eyes on Beth's, probing for honest answers.

Glancing outside, Beth saw that two grim-faced police officers – a tall girl and a plump, older man – were approaching the caravan.

Beyond them there was another man, a man in a slightly different uniform. He held Foal in his arms. He laughed as she stretched up to lick his face.

Beth heard the steps outside creak as the officers mounted them. They unlocked the door.

Before either of the two officers had time to enter the caravan, the woman turned towards Beth.

'We've contacted your mother,' she said. 'You're going home.'

*

'You're lucky; they're not pressing charges.'

The policewoman somehow managed to pleasantly smile while also seriously frowning.

She helped Beth into the back of the police car.

'They reckon you're young and were led astray. The others just left you to take the blame. Everyone here – well, _mostly_ everyone – felt sorry for you, when they heard you were a runaway.'

Beth had counted on that when she had told them her name.

She had told them she was living with the crusties because it was better than living at home.

Sure, she knew it would mean they would contact her mum.

But she could always run away again.

*

'You ask me,' said the policeman, sidling into the car's driving seat, 'they're all acting like they've had too much of the wacky backy.'

He nodded over to where a group of the archaeologists were elatedly studying and discussing photographs of the stone calendar.

As the car doors slammed shut around her, Beth realised they hadn't brought Foal with them.

'My dog! Foal!' she said urgently. 'You've forgotten my dog!'

Without a word, the policeman started up the car and set off.

'She'll be well cared for.'

The policewoman spoke surprisingly sternly.

'Cared for?'

Panicking, Beth swung around in her seat.

She stared out of the car windows in the hope of catching a glimpse of Foal.

'What do you mean, cared for?'

She tried opening the door, but it was locked.

The policewoman gripped her knee firmly.

'The RSPCA; they're taking her to the kennels. There were signs of mistreatment Beth – bruises. She might even have suffered a broken leg at some point, although it seems to have repaired itself.'

Foley! Foley had done all that!

'But...but that wasn't _me_! You can't take her off of me because of what Fo–'

She stopped herself from saying Foley's name.

She said instead, 'She's a Cloth-eared Dachshund, you know?'

The policewoman shrugged, like the breed meant nothing to her.

Beth slumped back into the car's seat, thankful that she had managed to stop herself from saying Foley's name.

The last thing Foley would want is the police and RSPCA descending on him.

Last thing Beth would want is for Foley to know they had got his name off her.

Not that she could ever go back there now.

Not without Foal.

She knew what Foley would say; thanks to her, he had lost his nice little earner.

She owed him big time for losing Foal and those nice little puppies.

'The puppies!' Beth turned urgently on the policewomen. 'What will happen to the puppies?'

'Puppies?' The policewoman appeared confused. 'I was told there was just the one dog.'

'Foal's pregnant. What will happen to her puppies?'

The policeman driving the car glanced back at Beth with a confused frown.

The policewoman's grip on Beth's knee changed from being hard to soft and consoling.

'They gave her a thorough inspection, Beth; when they were checking her for injuries. Please believe me – your dog was never pregnant, Beth.'

*

'Thank you, thank you _so_ much for _rescuing_ her, officers!'

Beth cringed.

She expected her mum to invite the police officers in for a cup of tea at any moment.

Thankfully, with satisfied grins, the police officers turned to leave.

'Our pleasure miss.'

The policeman's low, deep tone implied a longing wish to add a movie-style, 'Our job here is done.'

'No charges will be brought _this_ time.'

The policewoman heavily emphasised the 'this'.

She obviously didn't want anyone to miss the warning contained within her otherwise pleasantly delivered comment.

Beth gave them an embarrassed grin, a wary 'Thanks.'

They had been all right to her. They were just doing their job.

As soon as Beth's mum had closed the door, she tearfully reached for Beth.

She gave her the same claustrophobic, breath-squeezing hug that she had greeted her with on first opening the door.

She was small, hardly taller than her much younger daughter. Yet her arms clenched hard as iron around Beth.

'What have they been doing to you, my little girl?'

She released her grip, pulled back slightly. '

Just look at all that make-up! And those earrings! Who did all this to you Beth?'

Beth didn't think her mum was making any sense, but that was hardly unusual. Beth just smiled sickly, like she didn't have any answers just yet.

Her mum realised that her tears were smearing both Beth's makeup and her own.

She reached for the handkerchief scrunched up into the end of her jumper's sleeve. She dabbed her eyes, then Beth's cheeks.

'Oh, what a sight I must be! All these silly tears! I'm sorry, sorry Beth; I don't know what's wrong with me! I really don't!'

She leant back and grasped Beth's hands in hers, as if they were about to break into a jolly dance.

'Things will be different this time Beth, I promise! I've thrown away all my pills, my booze. Since you left, I've been better! I've tidied myself up a lot!'

Beth noted the 'since you left'.

So, what're you saying mum? That the way you were was all down to me, yeah?

Perhaps Beth's mum saw the flash of anger in Beth's eyes.

Perhaps she wanted to make sure this was all a fresh start between them.

But whatever the reason, she said suddenly, 'And now everyone knows you weren't crazy Beth! It just seemed so _unbelievable_ at the time, right, yeah? You understand that, don't you love?'

Beth shrugged.

'I know mum. You said that every time I called home to let you know I was all right, remember?'

And every time her mum had said it, Beth had hung up.

*

Yeah, thanks for reminding me of that mum.

Not even you believed me when I mentioned the flipped coin.

Everyone thought I was crazy. Crazy like my mum.

And that's why I left mum.

Because I didn't want anyone thinking I was turning out to be like you!

'Of course I remember your calls love! How could I forget? I wanted you to know that I realised those silly men in that courtroom had got it all wrong. I wanted you to come back! To let me know where you were staying!'

Sure mum, you figured out those men were wrong, but only later.

Only when those damn symbols started appearing everywhere!

*

The symbols had started appearing on walls as graffiti not long after Beth's court case.

She had first seen them when she had gone into town to beg.

The numbers and size of the symbols increased with each visit.

It was like a graphic battle, one symbol being sprayed over and erasing the other.

The eyes stared down at you from hoardings. They watched you as you passed defaced posters. They followed you as you walked by post-boxes and lampposts.

The words 'God' and 'Horus' began to appear alongside them.

Soon, too, there were accompanying phrases, usually revolving around words like 'Kingdom', 'Prevail' and 'Power'.

Beth had looked up Horus on a library computer.

An Egyptian, falcon-headed Sky God.

He had lost an eye in a battle with his evil uncle Set.

(Or was that his brother Set? Beth had become increasingly confused on that point.)

The eye had been magically restored, taking on the magical, eerie light of the moon.

His other eye was more akin to the brighter sun.

Reporting on the rash of graffiti, the newspapers had insisted that no matter how the symbols were drawn, they represented the Eye of God.

After all, even when it was drawn with the lines that made the triangle look like a pyramid, wasn't this how it appeared on every American Dollar bill?

Besides, the interest of the newspapers' lay in the way their readers could 'fool a friend into buying the next round of drinks', simply by drawing the symbols on either side of a coin.

Some had even worryingly called the trick 'The Devil's own luck'.

No one could explain why the laws of chance had changed in this way.

Least of all when the same lottery numbers came up exactly the same and in exactly the same order over three weeks.

There were other examples, including a house hit five times by lightning in a single month. There was also a frightening increase in 'unlucky, one-in-a-million' motorway pileups, and, fortunately, a rise in near-miraculous escapes.

'There was no need to leave home Beth! No one thinks you're crazy anymore!'

Beth's mum hugged her tightly once again.

'Your room's just as you left it love! I knew you'd be back, knew you'd come back one day!'

'Yeah, right, thanks mum,' Beth mumbled, trying to sound as grateful as she could.

Did that room mean anything to her anymore?

The posters of the pop stars on the wall.

The line-up of cuddly toys on her bed.

The books of teenage romance.

Somehow, it just didn't feel _her_ anymore.

*

# Chapter 10

Beth had been right; this wasn't really her room anymore.

It was like she had walked into someone else's room.

Someone much younger than her. Someone less worldly.

The single bed, with its flowered quilt.

The small wooden chair by the door, with its strawberry-patterned pillow.

The drawers, painted white and pink.

The curtains at the window, quaint and daintily frilled. Like they belonged in a country cottage.

She didn't belong here.

*

Thankfully, Beth's mum had left her to come up the stairs on her own.

Beth had insisted that she needed a little bit of time on her own before dinner.

Her mum had chuckled, said she understood.

She had headed off to the kitchen, saying she had a lot to be getting on with anyway.

'It seems ages since I last had to iron your school clothes!'

'School?'

Beth had been surprised. She hadn't even thought about school since she had run away all those months ago.

'It's part of the agreement dear. The agreement with the police. You need to start school _tomorrow_!'

*

'School! That's just great!'

Beth grumbled to herself as she moved towards her bedroom's half-opened window.

It was much darker outside than she had expected, as if a heavy storm were on its way. The air seemed sharp, seemed to crackle. It felt like it was about to explode with bolt after bolt of lightning.

As she looked down on the street below, yellow eyes stared up at her hungrily.

The yellow eyes of a wolf, half hidden by a lamppost.

Startled, Beth involuntary jumped back from the window.

Her foot caught on the edge of a rug, causing her to stumble.

She fell uncontrollably towards the wooden end of her bed.

Beth couldn't be sure what happened next.

The small chair seemed to slide across the room. She ended up safely sitting on it, rather than smashing her head hard against the edge of her bed.

What the...?

She jumped out of the chair, like it had suddenly become electrified.

She spun around, gazing at it in a mix of horror and amazement.

Surely the chair didn't...?

She abruptly remembered that she had been looking out of the window.

I can't have seen a...!

What the heck is it out there?

She rushed back to the window.

It was a normal day once again, the sun weakly shining from behind hazy clouds.

Just as it had been when the police had dropped her off at the house only minutes ago.

A white boxer dog was cockily making its way along the pavement.

It had left its mark on the lamppost.

_But...it doesn't seem_ quite _right. Doesn't seem_ real _, somehow._

She wasn't such an idiot that she would mistake a dog like that for a wolf!

She looked back towards the chair.

The chair that had seemed to move by itself.

It was by the bed.

Not by the door. Where she was almost sure it had been earlier.

Where it usually was, in fact.

But, yeah, okay – it could be that she had moved it.

And just forgotten about it, right?

But she _had_ seen a wolf!

It _had_ looked at her.

_Hungrily_ , too.

But...but it wasn't the hunger you'd expect of a wolf; the hunger for a tasty victim.

It was a hunger for the excitement of the chase.

A hunger for the command to hunt the prey down.

And it had been waiting for the command to come from her.

*

# Chapter 11

How had she known that the wolf was waiting for a command from her?

Beth thought about this once again as she poured breakfast cereal into her bowl.

Her mum was with her, absently watching the television. A pair of ridiculously chirpy presenters were demonstrating a new carpet-cleaning device.

Beth wasn't sure _how_ she knew the wolf was waiting for a command.

She just _did_.

Had she recognised something in those eyes?

Something similar to what she had seen in Foal's sparkling, excited gaze whenever the little dog was waiting for Beth to take her out for a run?

Yes, yes; that must have been it!

Now all I have to figure out is how I came to see a wolf standing outside my bedroom window.

*

Without even thinking about it, Beth had moved onto pouring the milk over her cornflakes.

She stopped halfway through as a picture of Silbury Hill flashed up on the television.

A man was talking about 'an amazing find'.

'No, we don't mean this,' the man continued, speaking over numerously angled shots of the Sword in the Stone. 'Undoubtedly, it would have been the archaeological find of the century if had been real. Unfortunately, it's just a fake. If a clever one.'

The woman who had been Beth's chief interrogator came up on screen. Her blond hair whipped around her face in a strong wind.

A subtitle appeared beneath her on the screen; Dr Jane Prellor, Assistant Chief Archaeologist, Silbury Hill Excavation Team.

'Yes, I'm sorry to disappoint followers of the Arthurian legends,' she said into the microphone being held up in front of her face. 'But I'm afraid this elaborate contraption is the work of modern mischief-makers rather than Merlin. It was placed inside the uppermost of Silbury Hill's two chambers, rather than the less accessible and only recently discovered lower chamber.'

The interviewer frowned seriously.

'But, in its way, it was this that led to an even more amazing discovery? Is that right?'

Dr Jane Prellor smiled, raising a hand to stop a long strand of hair curling across her eyes.

'That's right, Ben; something that would make even the discovery of the real Sword in the Stone pale into insignificance.'

As she talked, the camera took the viewer on a swift, edited trip down the steps leading into the lower chamber.

Even Beth, who had already seen the machine, gawped in wonder, as if seeing it for the first time.

Was it really so big?

How could anything made of such huge stone discs and gears ever hope to move in any way?

Seen up close, and from wildly different angles, it appeared unfathomably complex.

'It completely changes the way we think of the people who constructed structures like Silbury Hill,' Dr Prellor continued to explain over the images. 'It displays a grasp of technology that we previously thought was beyond them.'

Through the magic of television editing, interviewer and interviewee were abruptly standing by the machine.

'It really is an incredible device Dr Prellor. But do we know what it is? Or what it was used for?'

'We certainly do Ben.'

The camera once again lovingly lingered over the beauty of the stone machine.

Up close, it showed the cogs, the teeth, the symbols.

'It's undoubtedly a calendar. And an amazingly sophisticated one at that. It would have been used to track the course of the planets in the sky; probably to arrange religious festivals and observances.'

'So how did it work? Surely it didn't have a power source?'

Dr Prellor laughed good-naturedly.

'Well, it did if you'd call human muscle a power source. It would have been slowly turned by hand, probably by the same small amount each day.'

'And this _isn't_ a hoax?'

'Definitely not. As you can see, unlike the sword and the stone, this would be completely untransportable. It's very sophistication, too, discounts the involvement of any but the most ridiculously intelligent hoaxer. We have cogs representing blocks of hundreds of years. Cogs representing years. And even cogs marking off months, and even days.'

'So if it's thousands of years old, the question is; does it still work?'

'Oh yes, most definitely. And I'm afraid we know the answer to that because the tricksters who'd broken into the chamber had moved its pointer to yesterday's date.'

Beth felt a lurch in her stomach as she found herself staring once again at the very spot where the cogs had come to an abrupt halt, catapulting her into space.

'We've ensured it won't be tampered with again, Ben, by installing cameras to keep an eye on it.'

There were shots of a number of small cameras positioned around the machine.

A few examples of the grainy, black and white film they were recording followed.

In these shots the machine looked eerier than ever, almost ghostly.

Abruptly, everything changed.

The screen filled once again with an overly-bright studio.

A stupidly grinning couple were sitting on a red sofa.

'Oh, they don't have anything interesting on these shows anymore do they, love?'

Beth's mum put the television remote back down on the kitchen worktop.

Beth was about to complain, but realised she didn't want to.

Not when she had just got back with her mum after all this time.

Not when her mum seemed, surprisingly, to have finally put all that crazy behaviour behind her.

She seemed, well, almost normal.

Not that Beth knew how a normal mum was supposed to behave. But she guessed it must be _something_ like this.

Her school uniform, all washed and ironed, rather than still lying crumpled and dirty in the wash basket.

A cornflake box that actually contained cornflakes.

Milk that wasn't yellowing and sour.

A kitchen that didn't smell of stale booze.

And, most amazing of all, her mum was actually there in the kitchen as Beth ate her breakfast.

This time in the morning, she would usually have still been in bed.

Still dozing fitfully, and getting tangled in the sheets she was now carefully, rhythmically ironing.

There was even a newspaper, lying opened on the edge of the worktop, as if her mum was actually taking an interest in the world outside the confines of her own confused mind.

Even though she was seeing the newspaper from an odd, low angle, Beth could tell that the main picture was of the Sword in the Stone.

'Sorry mum; are you reading this?' Beth reached for the newspaper.

'No, not just at the moment love. You take it if you want.'

Her mum had gone back to ironing while staring somewhat blankly at the television screen.

The newspaper article was full of other shots of the Sword in the Stone, taken from different angles.

For the first time, Beth could see what it looked like now it had been completely uncovered and cleaned up.

It was just how she had imagined the Sword in the Stone would have looked.

Or, rather, it seemed to be an amalgamation of how similar swords had appeared in films she had seen.

_Excalibur_. Disney's _The_ _Sword in the Stone_.

Added to this there were her own more fantastic imaginings, usually conjured up while she listened to either her mum or gran telling her stories about King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, Merlin, Morgan le Fay and the Lady of the Lake.

(And yes, she knew enough about these stories to know that it wasn't Excalibur that Arthur had pulled from the stone.)

_Why_ had her mum and gran told her all these tales?

She couldn't think of anyone from school who had heard anything but the most basic versions of these legends.

Beth glanced back at her mum curiously.

Why wasn't _she_ excited by these pictures of the Sword in the Stone?

Okay, so it was a fake; but it was an _amazing_ fake!

And it had been found beneath Silbury Hill at that!

*

Beth had been brought up in a house cluttered with all kinds of fake Arthurian materials.

Celtic-styled wallpaper and furnishings.

Statutes of knights, maidens, sorcerers and dragons.

Pseudo Holy Grail goblets.

And, yes, a 'replica' Excalibur fixed to the wall.

Her mum had even bought a ridiculously expensive and elaborately embroidered gown, one she would sometimes wear on an evening.

She used to move around the house as if taking part in some otherwise unseen fairy dance.

Strangely, these were the only times that Beth could recall being completely relaxed and at ease with her mum. The only times Beth didn't feel that her mum could at any moment reach for the whiskey, vodka or rum that would plunge her once more into angry despair.

Looking about her, it dawned on Beth that all the Arthurian paraphernalia had disappeared.

Even the walls had been painted, either magnolia or white.

Gone were all the vibrant, often clashing colours. The wheeling, complexly intertwined patterns.

Perhaps mum's new found stability rested on casting her past – and all that pseudo Arthurian past – away.

*

In the newspaper pictures, the sword's hilt gleamed with all the emerald greens, sapphire blues and ruby reds that had disappeared from her mum's life.

There was also a riddle. The riddle engraved into the stone that Beth had managed to only partially reveal.

I can't be seen yet appear in every eye for you to see

I have no form yet form all things

I was here before you thought I was

Yet only in your thinking can you recognise me

So when Troy falls for a second time

My time finally ends too

As Beth finished reading, she felt uncomfortably light-headed.

Celtic spirals and knotted beasts swirled through her mind.

She sensed small explosions, bright star bursts, erupting everywhere throughout her body.

The Eyes of God were there too, in every form she had seen. Twisting and whirling, flowing and surging. Mingling with her flesh, her muscles, her veins, her nerves.

'Are you all right dear?'

Beth was surprised to find that her mum was crouching down beside her.

Had she passed out?

For how long?

She hadn't even heard, let alone seen, her mum move from behind the ironing board.

'No, no mum; I'm all right, honest,' Beth lied. 'I just felt a little dizzy for a moment, that's all.'

Her mum's eyes sparkled with concern.

'You _do_ look white!'

She gently stroked Beth's cheek and felt her brow.

'And you're hot too! What brought this on, Beth? Is it something you picked up while living with those crusties?'

'Mum, I was fine until just a second ago, honest! Perhaps it's just that, you know, everything that's happened to me with the police again and all that. You know, perhaps it's just all, well, caught up with me or something. Delayed shock, that sort of thing.'

'Hmmn, I suppose, yeah, you have been through a lot love. Are you all right to go to school, do you think?'

Beth had been dreading going into school.

She wanted to put off seeing Donna and her friends as long as possible.

'I _do_ still feel a _bit_ odd, mum. Perhaps I'd feel better going in tomorrow instead?'

'Well...' Her mum pursed her lips doubtfully.

Beth put on a sad puppy dog look.

'Well, okay love! I don't see how one day's going to make a difference, do you?'

'Thanks mum!' Beth threw her arms around her mum.

It was the first time in ages that she had hugged her mum like she really meant it, rather than just going through the motions because it was expected of her.

'Maybe we can go out somewhere together later,' her mum said brightly. 'That would be nice, wouldn't it love?'

They both slowly pulled apart from their tight clinch.

'Yeah, yeah, that would be nice mum.'

Beth hoped she had managed to hide the uncertainty she felt.

'First, though, if that's all right with you mum, I'd just like to pop out for a walk; you know, get some fresh air?'

'Of course, love, of course! You need to feel better before we go anywhere!'

She glanced over at the washing basket of dirty laundry she had carried down from the bathroom.

'All that lot and the bed sheets upstairs can wait until tomorrow, can't it eh?'

A surge of shock ran through Beth.

'No, no mum! You have to wash it now! This morning! Don't put it off!'

Her mum stared at her astonishment.

'Beth, whatever do you mean by that?' she laughed. 'It's only washing, love!'

Beth was every bit as surprised as her mum that she had blurted out something so stupid, so weird.

She couldn't really explain why she had said it.

'I...I don't really know mum. I just, sort of, well, _felt_ that you won't be able to do it tomorrow. Yeah, it's odd, I know. Isn't there that saying, mum? If you leave your laundry unfinished, and then you die, you have to come back and wash it until Judgement Day.'

This time Beth's mum wasn't just shocked; she was horrified.

'Beth, what a terrible thing to say about your mother! If I die? Whatever made you say that Beth?'

'I'm sorry mum, I'm really sorry! I honestly don't know why I said it. I really, really don't!

'I've never heard such an _awful_ saying!'

'Isn't it Irish? Don't they say it in Ireland mum?'

'Well if they do, it's an awful thing to say!'

*

# Chapter 12

Beth felt strangely bare without her makeup and earrings.

At least, though, she'd had the pleasure of taking off her school uniform.

She had replaced it with a far more comfortable pair of threadbare jeans and an even older T-shirt.

_Stonehenge Rocks_.

Yeah, her gran had bought her that one.

But it was the only one that was clean.

*

Fortunately, her dad didn't live too far away.

She wanted to ask him if he really thought mum was okay.

Sure, she seemed calmer. The booze had gone, too, along with the pills and the crazy turns.

But so had all the baronial wallpaper and drapes. The statuettes of knights cutting off dragons heads. The glittering gem stones that sparkled and flashed as they twirled on their supporting strings.

Beth missed that part of her mum.

It was like a major part of her mum had been simply wiped from her life.

Like it had never really existed.

Yeah, like a part of her mum had died inside.

Leaving an unruffled but ultimately lifeless shell.

I mean, getting rid of _everything_ like that!

Can that be right?

Beth raised a hand to an ear, intending to tweak the earrings hanging there.

All she felt was the indents of the holes where they had hung from until late yesterday.

She ran her fingers through her dreadlocks. They were still there, thankfully.

But they wouldn't be there for long.

She couldn't wear her hair like that at school.

(Not unless she could somehow prove it was all part of her culture.)

By the end of the week, she would end up looking just as she had before she had run away from home.

Is that what had happened to mum?

To be a part of the world, did she have to conform to it?

*

'Crazy as a box of frogs.'

Her dad had said that as he had finally got around to packing his bags. Sneaking away from the house while mum was out shopping.

'Should have known from the start, shouldn't I, that something was a bit iffy. Her being called Jerusalem, and your gran Nazareth. I didn't marry into a regular family so much as get myself a map of Israel.'

Who could blame him for leaving, eh?

All that rubbish from mum about spirits being after her, giving her headaches!

Yeah, me and dad, we got the headaches all right.

All that screaming and wailing at all hours!

Come to think of it, perhaps mum's better off as she is now after all!

*

Dad's house was even more shambolic than Beth remembered it.

The front garden was completely overgrown, the grasses reaching a height more usually encountered on the African veldt.

Neither windows nor doors had benefited from a lick of fresh paint for at least ten years.

The whole house was generally run down.

Beth's generally run down dad opened the door.

He had put on even more weight. It looked like he had slept overnight in his shirt.

It looked like he had been sleeping in his trousers for a week.

'Ah, I wondered when I'd be seeing you again! Come in girl, come in!'

'You're not at work dad?'

Beth followed her dad through the door into the narrow hallway.

'I'd just called round on the off chance.'

'Work? There's no work round here anymore, Beth me darling. Factories are long gone. Now it's the shops that're closing down. Where've y' been girl?'

As Beth had expected, he headed for the kitchen.

'Away,' Beth said. 'Been happening there too, of course.'

'Gone to the dogs. Country gone to the dogs, you ask me.'

Compared to the rest of the house, the kitchen was in good order and quite clean.

Her dad might be slovenly when it came to the way he dressed, lazy when it came to DIY and general repairs, but he treated his food with great respect, understanding and love.

A chair had been pulled back from the kitchen table, like her dad had risen from it to answer her knock at the door.

On the table, there was a tall glass of thick, yellow milkshake.

'Milkshake?' Beth turned to look at her dad like he might be ill.

He lowered his head, embarrassed. He patted the stomach stretching his shirt into a taut transparency.

'Well, yeah, y' know. I realised I had to do sommat about all this. Y' know what I'm saying, me darling? Y' mum – well, she still pops round now and again, y' know – well she said I should try these here milkshake things.'

Reaching out for the shake, he picked it up and began to drink.

Beth was amazed.

'And you're sticking with it? A _milkshake_ diet?'

'Hey, don't sound so surprised young lady! I've been taking 'em for, oohh, five months now. Non-stop. It's so easy I don't know why I never tried 'em before!'

Beth studied her dad's quivering paunch.

'Five months? Blimey dad, what did you use to weigh?'

'It dunt always work that way, does it madam? Sometimes, while y' body adjusts, y' put a bit extra on at first.'

Draining off the last of the shake, he nodded towards two lidded pans bubbling away on the cooker's hob.

'I take it y'll be staying long enough to join me in a plate or two of my infamously hot con-carne?'

'Chilli? _After_ the shake? Dad, you're supposed to have the shake _instead_ of your meals. Not as well as!'

Her dad stared curiously at the shake-lined glass he was still holding.

'Eh? How's that supposed to work me darling? These things wouldn't fill up a hamster.'

*

# Chapter 13

'Well, see, the truth is, me darling, when I married y' mum, well, she seemed fine, right? Well, stands to reason don't it; I wouldn't have married her otherwise, would I now?'

Beth's dad had ladled out generous helpings of con-carne and rice onto his plate and, as he spoke, he ate.

'No, the kooky one in those days, see, was y' gran.'

'Gran? But she's always seemed fine!'

Her dad shook his head.

'Uh uh. Crazy as a bat in a microwave she were when I married y' mum. Should have seen it coming, I suppose. Should have figured it ran in the family.'

'Runs in the family?'

Beth clutched her throat in horror.

Her dad raised his hands to calm her, sauce from his fork dribbling down on to the tablecloth.

'Now now, me darling; don't go jumping to conclusions, right? See, we're talking about different levels of craziness here. Got me?'

'Different levels of craziness? That's supposed to reassure me, dad?'

'Look, me darling, the way y've seen y' mum for most of y' life – the booze, the pills, the crazy turns – all that happened after y' were born. And, it turns out, going by what I got out of y' gran when I asked her, it were the same for her. Sommat to do with this sense of loss, she said. Like it felt like a whole, massive part of her had been ripped away.'

'So what are you saying dad? Mum's weirdness was all my fault? Or, if I want to remain normal, don't have any kids?'

'Well, mum weren't exactly _normal_ afore she had you, me darling.'

Beth was about to complain that he was implying she was crazy once again, but he waved away her grumbles with a sauce-splattered hand.

'All this King Arthur and Guinevere thing; oh yes, all that was already there. I thought it were quaint at first, course. It was quite nice coming home to this medieval maiden, trouncing around the kitchen singing these ta-de-la-de-la songs and all that. But it all got a bit heavy, y' know? All this researching it all down the library, making all these notes, like she were desperately trying to figure sommat out. Sometimes she'd be really happy, saying she had discovered sommat that explained it all – what the _all_ was, she never explained to me. She just said it was sommat that was hard to explain. Sommat that was always whirling around inside her. Like she felt she had lived in these times, or sommat like that, y' know? Lived in these times! Ha! How can y' live in a legend, eh? Answer me that one! And so, yeah, mostly she weren't happy. She were frustrated, throwing books across the room, like she'd realised she'd been fooled once again. Led down a false track that really answered nothing.'

He paused, forking some more con-carne into his mouth. He continued as he chewed.

'Now when I asked y' gran, she said that afore she'd had Jerry, y' mum, she'd gone through exactly the same thing. Researching all these legends, like they were real history with a message. A message that would explain, y' know, why their family were like it was.'

'Like it was? What do you mean, dad; our family like it was?'

'Come on Beth, me darling. Are y' really telling me y' never wondered how y'd ended up wi' a name like Bethlehem? And why y' mum had been christened Jerusalem?'

'Well, there were plenty of times at school I wished you'd just given me a normal name; like Jane, or Janet, or even Edith. Anything would've been better than Bethlehem, dad! Can you imagine what it's like to have kids running around you chanting "how _still_ we see thee lie"? Though in their case, they used it to make out I was always lying.'

Her dad shrugged.

'I were against calling you Bethlehem, if it helps. But I were told it was tradition, like, y' know? If y' think y' had it bad, how do you think it were for y' gran, with a mouthful like Nazareth Iona Lourdes? You ask me, y' mum's family used these names like a sort of protection. What do you call those things some people wear these days? Lucky armlets?'

'Amulets dad; protective amulets. They're supposed to ward off evil spirits, or bad luck; that kind of thing.'

'Well, yeah, you ask me, they was hoping these names would have a similar effect. You look back on y' family, Beth me darling, and y'll find all the women have these here religious names. Glastonbury, Samaria, Lebanon, even Redsea. Oh, and there are plenty of supposed witches back in y' history, too me darling.'

'Witches?'

'Now don't go getting all excited about that! Chances are it were just the people of the time, seeing this here woman acting a bit crazy – like y' mum – and thinking, "Hey, y' know what? She must be a witch!" Whatever the reason, according to y' gran quite a few of 'em ended up being burnt, or locked away in asylums. Plenty of 'em too ended up in prison for thieving. But, get this me darling; all they was stealing were paper! Empty journals, that kind of thing.'

'They were locked up for stealing _paper_?'

'Well, y' gran says paper were expensive way back then. And she reckons they was pinching it for the same reason y' mum needed all her notebooks; to write things down. To try and make sense of all this weirdness floating through their heads.'

'So where are all mum's notebooks now? What was she writing in them?'

Her dad smiled. Rising from the table, he moved over to and pulled open a drawer full of cutlery. He began rifling through it as he spoke.

'Ah, now, see, I knew y'd come here one day asking that very question. And I don't know the answer, see, as y' mum would never let me see them. Or tell me what she were writing in there.'

As he returned to the table, he handed Beth a large, ancient looking key.

'It's a copy,' he said. 'A copy of the key that opens that old trunk up in y' mum's loft.'

*

# Chapter 14

As she headed back home, Beth twirled the large key round and round in her fingers.

She couldn't, could she?

She couldn't really just look in mum's trunk without asking her?

Could she?

Well her dad had been thinking about it!

He had even tried it too!

But he couldn't open it.

Could she?

She couldn't!

Could she?

*

Beth knew which trunk her dad was talking about.

It was up in the loft, where it had been ever since Beth could remember.

It was covered in dust and cobwebs. Hidden, too, under layer after layer of dresses and coats no one had ever found the energy to sort out and carry down to the waste tip.

It was made of heavily stained wood and shabby, lacerated leather. Like it had been there longer than the house had been there.

A lot longer.

'Oh, it's just some of mummy's things; things you might be interested in when you're older.'

Her mum had always said that, or something along those lines, whenever Beth had asked what was in there.

So, she _was_ interested now.

Did that mean she had permission to go sneaking around inside it?

What was it her dad had told her about the trunk?

That Beth's gran had had him bring it over from her house, not long after he had married mum.

That he had overheard gran and mum whispering later that night, gran saying something similar to what Beth's own mum had always told her whenever the contents of the trunk were being discussed; 'You're at an age now where you'll be really interested in what's in there.'

Her dad had always been excluded from conversations about the trunk.

If he came up on them unexpectedly as they were discussing it, they would suddenly go quiet. Or quickly pretend to be talking about something else.

He knew Beth's mum went up there sometimes, into the loft, looking through it.

She had always come down with dust and cobwebs in her air. A blank expression on her face, like she was in a daze, more confused than ever.

He had found the key by accident when searching for some dried noodles in one of the kitchen cupboards.

It had been taped up inside a gap where the cupboard's walls didn't quite fit together the way they should. The tape was loose, the key dangling slightly.

As soon as he saw it, he knew what it was.

He didn't have time to go rooting around in the trunk just then, so he swiftly made an impression of it in a bar of soap.

That's how he had come to have the copy.

It worked too; he had tried it on a day when Beth's mum was out. He had filed it again and again until it fitted perfectly and the lock gave a loud, satisfying click when he turned it.

But the lid wouldn't open.

There was still something holding it in place, perhaps a secret mechanism of wood blocks that needed sliding aside.

Or, perhaps, another lock that was hidden away somewhere.

Whatever it was, he had never found it, never worked out how it could be opened.

Which, Beth regretfully realised, might mean it's imposs–

'O little girl called Bethlehem...'

Beth froze as she heard the familiar refrain coming from behind her,

She spun around, both knowing and dreading what she would see.

Donna, Claris and Kate.

'...how _still_ we see thee lie...'

*

The singing was terrible, patchy, off key.

Yet all this only added to its edginess, jangling Beth's nerves all the more.

Donna, of course, was in the centre, her jaw set determinedly.

It brought out the squareness of her face, in turn emphasising the sturdiness of her body.

Then there was the dull, heavy blond hair.

It all created the effect of a TV series high-school cheerleader, squashed and malformed by the wrong viewing settings.

Claris towered over her, an obelisk of a woman. Black pigtails seamlessly blended her head into a wide chest, broad hips, and ridiculously thick legs.

Kate, small, skinny, and pallid, had dyed, frizzy hair, as if a violently shaken and exploding bottle of coke had been her inspiration.

Beth closed her eyes tight. Partially in dismay. Partially in the hope that when she opened them, it would turn out she had been simply imagining her tormentors all along.

No such luck.

They were drawing nearer. Spreading out. Preparing to encircle her.

'...we always think you're half asleep...'

Beth quickly glanced about her.

Should she try running away?

They would chase after her. She might be caught.

Even if she wasn't, they would find her later. Make things worse for her for running away.

It would give them a great deal of pleasure to see her scared and running away.

She stood her ground, hoping that whatever they had got in mind for her would all be over quickly.

'...so we all just pass you by!'

They were on three sides now, making Beth whirl, trying to figure out where the first strike would come from.

They all grinned, relishing the fact that she was in their power again.

They started to repeat their favourite line from the song.

They were spitting it out now, stressing the words harder and harder until it became a tribal chant.

'...how _still_ we see thee lie...how _still_ we see thee lie...how _still_ we see thee lie...'

Suddenly, Beth was itching, itching badly.

Itching badly everywhere.

She couldn't help but begin to scratch. Scratching her arm, her shoulder, her leg.

She spun around, glaring accusingly at them all.

One of them must have thrown some itching power on her while she'd had her back to them.

'Hey, look! She's got fleas!'

'Better stay away from her!'

'Yeah, we don't want to catch anything.'

'We don't want to go catching _fleas_!'

They all taunted her, grinning, laughing.

Beth couldn't control the itching. It was getting worse, her scratching only serving to make it worse, sharper, more painful.

The more violently she scratched, the more her skin tingled like it was getting hotter and hotter.

Her eyes opened wide in horror as sparks began to leap up from her arms, crackling like small electrical charges.

The sparks arched from one place to another, gaining in intensity with each leap.

They glowed blue, red, orange and even gold, swiftly covering her.

They hurt now, as if each one were a hot needle probing into her flesh, her muscles.

'Arrrggghhhhh! What are you doing? How are you doing this? Stop it, please! It hurts, it hurts! And it's getting worse, worse. Yyyyarrgghhh!'

Her growing agony only made her tormenters leap with glee.

You can stop this!

A voice throbbed deep within Beth's own head.

You can stop this easily, you fool!

Beth couldn't understand what was happening.

She was admonishing herself. Calling herself a fool!

It was like she no longer had control of her own mind!

Was this it? Was this how it started?

Was she already going crazy like her mum and gran?

*

# Chapter 15

'See what I can do to you now Bedlam?'

Donna circled around Beth, waving her arms in an exaggerated fashion as if casting spells.

'It hurts! Hurts more than you think! Stop it Donna, please!'

Don't beg! Deal with it!

Beth was holding and pressing hard on either side of her head now, a fruitless attempt to reduce the sense that her brain was frying, boiling.

Her teeth were clamped firmly together. The electrical charges were streaming through them as if she had a mouth full of painfully hot, molten metal.

She was crumpling to her knees.

Why are you letting us suffer like this? It's humiliating, stupid!

'Bow to me Bedlam! Bow to your superior and I migh– arrgghhh! No, no! Not me too, arrgggghhhh!'

Now Donna, like Beth, was writhing in agony.

A thick layer of arching charges leapt and curved around her body.

Now it was just Kate and Claris who were laughing.

Laughing harder, more gleefully, than ever.

'Stop it, stop it Kate!' Donna yelped and screamed. 'I'm telling you to stop it _now_ , or I'll get my brother– arrgghhhh! No, no, Kate! Please stop it, stop it!'

'Get your brother to _what_ Donna?' Kate guffawed. 'Can _he_ do this?'

Beth and Donna's backs arched involuntarily as a wave of pain ran from feet to head and back again.

_Why are you letting them treat you like this? Let_ me _deal with it!_

'Can he, can he?' Kate shrieked with joy. 'Or this?'

The waves of pain surged again and again against Beth's inner layers of nerves, like an unstoppable tide of agony.

'Look at them, squealing like pigs!'

Claris's laugh was deep, baritone, and strangely unconcerned.

'Can he Donna? Be honest now. We wouldn't want you to be a liar like Bethlehem Jones here now, would we?'

Donna jerked and thrashed, her arms and legs flailing at ugly angles.

'No, no he can't, he can't! He can't do what you can Kate!'

Her voice vibrated mechanically and stiffly. She had to force out every word.

'Please, please, _please_ stop it Kate!'

'Hey, hey! What's going on here?'

The shout came from lower down the street.

Beth and Donna could hardly hear it.

Kate and Claris petulantly turned to see who was intending to spoil their fun. They swapped conspiratorial grins.

A blond, tousled-haired boy, not much older than them, was running up the road, heading their way.

The boy's eyes were fixed on Donna and Beth's macabre dance.

'Hey, are you using–'

No one heard the rest of his sentence as a hot, white glare burst around him.

Abruptly, the arching electrical charges suffusing Donna and Beth's bodies vanished.

The girls sighed and gasped with relief, almost flopping to the ground in their exhaustion.

Hah! How embarrassing! We have to be rescued!

Kate momentarily looked confused, even hurt.

She obviously didn't understand why the boy wasn't rolling around in agony in the same way that she had made Beth and Donna suffer.

She stared hard at the oncoming boy, focusing all her attention on him.

She raised her arms and hands theatrically, no doubt hoping that this would somehow concentrate her powers.

But, whatever her powers were, they proved useless against the boy.

Once again, they were deflected by some form of invisible shield.

The spell was transformed into nothing more than a sparkling, crackling glare that burst ineffectively around him.

Kate frowned in frustration. Claris gawped in surprise.

Donna smirked, like she was glad to see Kate's new found powers being thwarted.

Beth wasn't quite sure what happened next.

But, suddenly, the three girls were being bowled over, like they had been hit by an incredibly strong wind.

Their hair, their clothes, flapped violently and uncontrollably around them as they were sent rolling cross the ground.

It was as if they had been caught in a miniature hurricane, affecting nothing but them.

Beth felt nothing.

Not even a strand of her hair moved, even though she could clearly see the effects of the powerful blast of air gusting about her.

At last! There's some sense in this dull brain of yours after all!

As the boy rushed towards them, he stared at Beth in confusion.

Just as Kate's own bewilderment had allowed Beth and Donna a respite from her painful magic, the boy's momentary confusion caused the wind to abruptly drop off.

The girls, shaken and bruised, began to painfully pick themselves up off the floor.

The boy was no longer interested in them.

'But you're a...a...'

His voice trailed off as he stared quizzically at Beth.

The three girls swapped urgent glances, each of them wondering what to do next.

Kate turned, broke into a quick trot, shouting behind her, 'Come on! Let's leave them!'

Donna obeyed the new leader of their group, whimpering with pain as she limped after Kate and Claris.

'Thanks,' Beth said to the boy. 'I don't know what happened just then bu–'

The boy was disconcertingly staring into her eyes.

He was looking at her as if she were the most confusing thing he had ever come across.

'But if...then why didn't you–'

Unable to avoid staring back into his eyes, Beth saw them abruptly widen, the pupils instantaneously dilating.

He jumped back, his previously handsome face now contorted in a mix of horror and total bewilderment.

'But you're–'

He was interrupted by a low, rolling snarl.

Their heads snapped around towards the growling.

A wolf, its head lowered as if ready to pounce, was confidently loping its way towards them.

Startled, Beth looked back towards the boy.

'A wolf! We'd better run–'

'No, she doesn't mean _you_ any harm.' The boy spoke with stern authority.

Even as he turned to run he glanced back, giving Beth yet another quizzical look.

'I'll try not to harm her!' he shouted back at Beth as the wolf, picking up speed, began to chase after him.

'No, stop! Wait!' Beth cried out.

But it was the wolf, not the boy, who stopped running.

She looked back at Beth, like a dog following her mistress's orders.

And, in the blink of an eye, the wolf was a dog.

An Alsatian that gave a gentle 'woof' before silently ambling away.

'Your name!' Beth shouted after the boy swiftly disappearing down the street. 'What's your name?'

The boy spun around, running backwards for a short while as he cried back;

'Green! Galilee Green.'

*

# Chapter 16

_Galilee_ Green?

Had he been called that for the same bizarre reasons she had been called Bethlehem?

What was it her mum and dad had said?

That all her family had been given Biblical or religious names, hopefully to act as a form of protection?

Protection from _what_?

And Galilee seemed to have some sort of power, using the wind to bowl Donna, Kate and Claris over.

Kate too – she'd also had some dreadful, agonising power!

_Magical_ powers?

Where had they come from, these magical skills?

Kate hadn't been able to do anything special like that the last time Beth had seen her.

And the wolf; how did that fit into all this?

And the _voice_?

That was, perhaps, the worst thing of all.

_Was_ she going crazy, like her mum?

Isn't that what all crazy people say?

That they can hear voices inside them?

Talking to them. Telling them what to do.

Telling them off.

Now that Beth had time to think about it, the voice hadn't just come from somewhere inside her head.

It had seemed to be screaming at her from every cell of her body.

*

Beth almost collapsed with relief when she finally arrived at the front door to her house.

As she had made her way back home, she had feared the unexpected reappearance of that frightening, uncontrollable inner voice.

Sure, she had tried to conjure the voice up once more, daring it to show itself.

But she had done it in the hope that she would find she could control it after all.

She had tried to find out where it was hidden away, probably somewhere inside her mind.

She had tried to beat it out into the open with accusations of cowardice.

Nothing. She had found nothing.

Thankfully.

Perhaps she had simply imagined it.

Perhaps it had simply been her mind screaming for help, for relief.

Kate had been torturing her with those weird electrical charges after all.

And, come to think of it, couldn't Kate have created that whole electrifying effect using one of those Taser things?

They shot out cables that hooked onto your body. Cables that carried a strong electric charge from the batteries contained in the handle.

And, when Kate and the others had been bowled over, wasn't that just a freakishly powerful gust of wind?

And the wolf?

Well, what's the difference between a wolf and an Alsatian anyway, eh?

So, yeah, everything can all be neatly, naturally explained with a bit of calm, considered thought, right?

So, when the boy jumped back like he had seen something horrible inside her, that was–

Yeah, what _was_ that?

What _had_ he seen?

Nothing!

He had seen _nothing_ of course!

How could he possibly have seen _anything_ inside her?

He was just a boy! Nothing more!

Just a _boy_!

A stupid boy who had tried to scare her with a silly face!

*

The door to her mum's house was locked, but Beth had her own key.

'Mum! I'm home!'

There was no answer.

'Mum?'

She shouted up the stairs. Still no answer.

'Are you in mum?'

She felt a bit stupid when she realised what she had just shouted. Would anybody shout back, 'No, I'm out love!'?

In the kitchen, she saw that her mum still hadn't got around to washing the laundry. Despite Beth's bizarre warning, her mum must have decided it could wait.

There was a handwritten note on top of the sheets piled on the kitchen top.

Her mum was out. She had 'just popped down the shops'.

Beth wondered how long she would be.

She wondered if it would be long enough for her to...

She found herself staring up at the ceiling.

She was staring up at it as if she could see through it.

As if she could see through the ceiling of the upstairs rooms. See directly into the loft.

The trunk was there.

And, in her hand, she had the key that fitted it.

That opened it.

*

# Chapter 17

It would just be a quick look. Just to see if she could open it.

Nothing more.

She took hold of the hooked pole used to grab the handle of the trapdoor leading up into the attic. She pulled the catch free.

The trapdoor fell down, revealing the edges of the wooden steps.

Using the hooked pole once again, Beth caught hold of the steps and dragged them down into position.

She scrambled up the steps, wheezing as she disturbed the accumulated dust and cobwebs.

She glanced about her, trying to recall where she had last seen the trunk when she had come up here as a child.

There it was!

It was buried under even more things than she remembered.

Everything mum had cleared out from the rooms below seemed to be piled around it: the statuettes of witches and knights; the framed, colourful pictures depicting scenes from Arthurian legend; the curtains and cloth shimmering with bright embroidery and lively, faux medieval designs.

Beth searched for and flicked the light switch, the brightness of the bare bulb temporarily blinding her.

She made her way towards the trunk, sending up thick clouds of fluffy dust as she began to swiftly move aside the statuettes, pictures and sheets of cloth.

There were packs of Tarot cards, incense holders, runes, books on Merlin and Morgan le Fay.

There were also what looked like cardboard boxes full of more easily breakable items like crystals.

Finally, on top of the trunk itself, there was mum's medieval gown, carefully wrapped in multiple layers of tissue. (Her mum had clearly regretted moving this dress up into the loft most of all.) Even through these layers, it glowed like a hoard of jewels; emeralds, rubies, sapphires, pearls, amber, gold.

Across the top of the dress, Beth's mum had almost reverently laid the full size, replica sword that had once graced the living room wall.

The fake jewels in its handle sparkled in the bulb's sharp light.

She recognised it, of course.

Yes, it was the sword her mum had bought years ago as a decoration. But it was also an exact copy of the sword she had found deeply embedded in the stone below Silbury Hill.

How could that be?

Because, of course, as the archaeologists had claimed, it was all a silly joke.

It had been put together by pranksters, who had obviously purchased a sword similar to mum's.

Instinctively, Beth gripped it by its handle.

She knew it was heavier than it looked, and almost impossible to lift smoothly in this way except by someone who was ridiculously strong.

She flexed her muscles, preparing them for the weight.

She lifted the sword up as if it were almost weightless. As if her arm were rippling with the muscles more usually found in superhero comic books.

Beth gasped.

The blade, shedding its patina of dust, flashed in the bared light. It glowed brighter than the hanging bulb.

Rays of light glanced off it, shooting across and around the room as Beth twirled it in her hand.

It wasn't even remotely heavy!

It felt like she was holding nothing heavier than a pen in her hand!

Had it always been like this?

Had Beth simply presumed it was heavy because it appeared to be made of solid metal?

Or had it rusted away inside, leaving nothing more than a weakened shell?

Her eyes fell on the trunk.

She remembered the real reason why she was here.

To see what was in this trunk.

*

Beth carelessly cast the sword aside.

She started in surprise as it clanged heavily across the bared floorboards.

No matter; the trunk!

The contents of the trunk were the main thing!

She pulled the wrapped dress aside with great care, placing it on top of the nearby books on Merlin.

She took out the key. She slipped it inside the trunk's lock.

It turned with only a minimum of effort.

Doubtlessly, the lock was still saturated in the thick oil her dad had said he had used to get it working again.

The lid remained closed.

Beth tried to push it up.

She tried to find a gap that she could prise her fingers into and pull it up.

Nothing moved.

Beth sat back on her heels, sighing in frustration.

She stared hard at the trunk.

Was it constructed like a Chinese puzzle, where blocks of interlocking wood had to be moved in a certain order?

She searched with her fingers for any slight indents in the trunk's sides, seeking out anything that could signify the presence of interlocking segments.

Nothing.

She moved slowly around the trunk on her hands and knees.

She slowly looked over every inch of it, dusting away any dirt or cobwebs that obscured her view.

Crouching behind it, she noticed that it hardly looked any different from this side than when you looked at it from the front, apart from the centred lock.

Like a laptop computer, she thought.

On a laptop computer, there's only some small difference, such as a manufacturer's logo, that lets you know if you've got it facing you the right way or not.

And some makes, for some strange reason, position that logo so that it's the right way up when the lid is opened, but the wrong way round when you're preparing to open it.

Put it on your desk the wrong way round and you could spend ages trying to open it, thinking there's some locking mechanism you haven't tripped yet.

She reached out towards the lid and pushed up on it.

With the pained shrieks of rusted hinges, it began to slowly rise.

*

More books on Merlin.

More books on Morgan le Fay.

Books, too, on the Lady of the Lake.

Old books, far older and in far worse condition than the ones Beth's mum had piled up on the outside of the trunk.

There were incredibly old Tarot packs, incense sticks that crumbled to the touch, pictures that were browned and frayed with age.

There was another gown too, perhaps even more beautiful than her mum's.

It had also been tenderly wrapped in layers of tissue paper.

Beth could make out the swirling, pearl-studded embroidery, the sparklingly bright colours of a cathedral's stained glass.

She moved this dress aside as carefully as she had her mum's.

Next, she moved the books, making sure she kept them apart from those brought up here by her mum.

The layer beneath was a compete disappointment.

It was nothing more than a confused, untidy mass of notebooks in a variety of faded colours.

They were the sort of paper-backed notebooks you would find making up the bulk of any child's schoolwork.

Beth irritably shuffled through them, revealing other, older notebooks beneath.

It could have been a trunk used by generations of proud parents to store schoolwork going back well over a hundred years.

Beth picked up one of the notebooks, one with a dulled yellow cover and lined pages inside.

It was full of either hastily or carelessly written notes that completely ignored the lines.

The notes bent around corners, or stretched across the page vertically.

The writing wasn't easy to read, either.

Sometimes it was little more than a hurried scrawl.

Yet Beth recognised odd words purely because they were so familiar to her; Merlin, Arthur, magic, knights.

There hardly seemed to be a sentence that didn't end in at least one large question mark.

Why would anyone have bothered writing all this down?

She checked the older notebooks, but they were all full of the same thing; endless, unanswered questions.

Questions that seemed to assume Arthur and his knights were historical figures rather than characters taken from legends.

Many had been crudely illustrated with inept sketches of maidens, wizards, witches and knights.

There were also diagrams, patterns and symbols.

In the even older journals, bound in leather that disintegrated and shredded in Beth's hands, passages had been crossed out. Some had been commented on in another hand, and in a different, sharper ink.

The comments themselves had been commented on, or even angrily scrawled out.

The older, more faded script lying beneath it all was usually almost impossible to decipher. From what Beth could make out, it wasn't the English she knew, but a politer, more considered form.

She flicked through the notes, wondering why mum or gran would want to keep such worthless meanderings under lock and key.

Then, suddenly, she almost swallowed her tongue in surprise.

She almost feverishly turned back the pages, trying to find it again.

_Where_ was it?

_What_ was it?

Was it what she thought she had seen?

She was sure she hadn't imagined it!

As the pages had flipped swiftly, uncontrollably, though her fingers, she had glimpsed something she thought she had recognised.

She was hoping she could find it again.

She was also hoping she was wrong, and she hadn't really seen it at all.

But there, yes!

There it was!

The eye.

The Eye of God stared back at her from the page.

*

# Chapter 18

Frantically, Beth reached out for and picked up the books she had already quickly scanned through.

She flicked through the uppermost one, this time looking for the eye.

Yes, there it was!

And, as the pages flicked by, she saw it again and again.

How could she have missed it?

Because she hadn't been looking for it.

Because she hadn't expected it to be here.

*

Beth picked up another book.

She urgently flicked through it.

She stopped and stared as the eye symbol came up again and again and again.

And there, again, in another book. And again. And again.

And there again and again in another book.

And another book, and another.

In _every_ book.

The eye stared out at her from the pages of every book she picked up and flicked through.

It featured time and time again, surrounded by notes, by comments.

And by question mark after question mark.

'What does it mean?'

'Why do I dream of this eye?'

'Eyes!' someone else had written. 'There are two versions, only subtly different. One lies in a triangle, the other on a pyramid.'

Beth had seen the eyes many times in her own dreams, of course.

But she had naturally put this down to the unforgettable consequences of Donna's flipped coin, as well as the eyes suddenly appearing everywhere as graffiti; etched into the dirt on truck and bus sides, sprayed in vibrant colours alongside train carriages and buildings, plastered over hoardings and posters.

Within the books, alongside other sketches of the symbols, some of the writers had made attempts at researching the possible meanings that lay behind them.

There were numerous mentions of the Eye of Horus, here sometimes referred to as 'the sun god', here 'the sky god'.

'The all seeing eye' someone had scribbled, to which another had added, 'No one can escape his magical reach.'

A strangely pristine American dollar bill had been glued onto one page.

Beth recognised it from photographs of dollar bills she had seen in newspaper articles drawing attention to the pyramid and the glowing eye surmounting it.

'What can this mean?' a nervous hand had scrawled on the opposite page. 'James returned from his trip to America (March 1934) with one of their new notes.'

The eye in the triangle featured less than the eye in the pyramid.

When Beth realised this, she couldn't help but recall the way the coin had landed that way up so many more times too, although she felt sure there couldn't be any connection.

Comments such as 'Triangle = Trinity?' appeared regularly. As did 'He watches over all things' and 'The eyes of the Lord are in every place. Proverbs 15:3.'

In the later books (but not, curiously, the earlier ones) it was often accompanied with a title, either written weirdly large or inked again and again to make the letters more solid.

It was as if each writer hoped that making it more prominent somehow also made it more true. 'Omniscience of God', it most frequently said. Or, as a variant, 'God's omnipresence'.

It was while searching for the eye symbols she had missed earlier that Beth began to notice another constantly reoccurring theme, a passage that was repeated in every notebook.

'Fearing that the war against demons, sprites and fays was being lost, Merlin brought the time of magic to an end, imprisoning both good and bad in a most enduring substance, to be withheld therein for over a thousand years.

_Gesta Britanniæ_ , Maidulph of Malmesbury, c680'

Urgently scribbled notes always surrounded this passage. Lines linked individual words with comments, comments that were crossed out, corrected, then sometimes corrected once again.

Someone had discovered that Maidulph was 'Irish, founder of Malmesbury Abbey.'

A confused query – 'But wasn't it Merlin who was trapped in stone/crystal?' – was confirmed by the confident, red-inked declaration, 'Yes, by the Lady of the Lake, Vivian!'

'Vivian', however, had been crossed out and replaced by 'Nimue'.

Beth could understand the confusion.

As her gran had once explained, the Lady of the Lake had many names. There were a number of conflicting stories, with each one trying to make sense of earlier legends.

In some tales, Morgan le Fay was the wicked sorceress who tricked Merlin into revealing his secrets, only to later entrap him in a cave.

'Merlin traps both "good and bad"; does that mean himself?' someone had written, adding, 'Perhaps the later romances were trying to make sense of this, and eventually only he was the one trapped?'

The writer seemed doubtful about her own interpretation, following it with a line of large question marks.

'Beth?'

Beth leapt to her feet, causing the lid to slam shut.

Her mum was standing at the top of the loft's steps, glaring at her accusingly.

*

# Chapter 19

Far from being angry with Beth, her mum crouched down alongside her on the floor.

She even helped her open the trunk once more.

'Well, you were going to have all these things one day anyway, love; so now's probably a better time than any. Does any of it make sense to you?'

Beth shook her head. 'I know _something_ weird is going on mum; but these notebooks just add to that feeling of weirdness!'

Her mum chuckled.

'Well, that seems to have been our lot, doesn't it love? You, me, my mum, your great-gran and every other woman in our family before us. I used to think it was just me, just me going crazy, until your gran had your dad bring this trunk round and I started sorting through it. It was a relief, really; to see that, just like me, they'd all had this weird urge to start writing things down. Things about their dreams, about Arthur and Merlin.'

'And the symbols mum; the eye in the triangle. You never mentioned you'd had dreams about them. I mean, when all that about the coin came up in the court case.'

Beth's mum hung her head sadly,

'Yes, yes, I'm sorry love. But the first thing I heard about the symbols was when I heard about the coin in court. I mean, I was shocked, really shocked; but it made no sense, no sense to me at all! And what was I supposed to say, love? That I'd dreamt about these symbols? These were symbols that always appeared in my dreams? They'd think that I was – well, you know.'

'Crazy? They'd think you were crazy, yeah? But why didn't you mention this after the court case mum? Why didn't you tell me then that you'd dreamt of them?'

'Because I'd noticed that you didn't seem to recognise the symbols; which meant you weren't dreaming about them. And I wanted it to stay that way. I didn't want you dreaming about them.'

'So, did you – did _anyone_ – ever work out what the symbols mean? Is everything we've been reading in the papers right? That one's the Eye of God, the other the Eye of Horus, the Sun God?'

Beth's mum frowned worriedly.

'I'd always felt that, even though the symbols were similar, that one was good and the other evil; though I never found out if that was true or not.'

She nodded towards the journals in the trunk.

'And neither did anyone writing in these books either, from what I can tell. But I did find somewhere that – let me see, which book was it?'

She began quickly sorting through the notebooks in the trunk, focusing on the more modern, pastel-coloured ones.

She grinned as she excitedly grabbed a mauve covered book.

'Ah, yes, this one I think! One of my later books; one I was using to bring together most of what I'd written before.'

She opened it up on the first page.

'Hah, yes! See! "The Enlightened One with the Torches of Illumination."'

'Which means?'

'Ah, as it says here, love, see? "The Eye is Luciferian Sun worship!"'

She proudly handed the opened notebook to Beth so she could read the rest herself.

'Winter solstice; the Sun (Horus, the Light Of the World) dies. Reaches lowest point in sky; for 3 days. Rises again 25 Dec (Risen Saviour?) Passover/Easter; sun crosses Equator.'

Beth looked up from the book, looked at her mum curiously.

'Mum, all this; December twenty-fifth? Easter? Aren't we really talking about Christ here mum?'

Her mum shrugged.

'I did say I never really understood it love. This was just something I found out. I don't know what it could mean.'

Beth flicked though the rest of the book. All the other pages had been left blank. That's probably why she had missed this book before; she had put it aside, believing it to be empty.

Seeing the look of disappointment on Beth's face, her mum said defensively, 'Well, I did say I didn't find out much love.'

'But this Horus, mum; he's just from some old Egyptian legends, isn't he? He didn't really exist – did he?'

Her mum laughed.

'Course he never really lived, silly! I read all the legends, the stories about him; I just got more confused than ever! All these different mothers, different wives! Sometimes his wife was his mother, or his sister! So no, I don't think he's a real person love!'

'So...' Beth paused thoughtfully. 'So, he's like Merlin; someone from legend, right?'

Her mum nodded.

Beth indicated the trunk's contents with a nod of her own head.

'Yet here we have, mum, our entire family, going back hundreds of years. Writing all sorts about both of these people who supposedly never lived; Horus and Merlin.'

Under Beth's quizzical, reproving stare, her mum momentarily felt and looked embarrassed.

To lift the mood, she said light-heartedly, 'And getting into trouble doing it too!'

'Trouble?'

'Oh yes! Paper wasn't cheap way back then, like it is now love. Only the rich could afford it. So, your gran reckons, they must have stolen those expensive looking books bound in leather. That's why there's so little space left in there. Every inch of paper was special. But look at this; this was even worse!'

'Even worse?' Beth repeated as her mum rifled through the journals towards the bottom of the trunk.

With an elated cry, her mum pulled out an old folder made from thin wooden slats, the cloth bindings threadbare and shredding.

She handed it to Beth, saying, 'Open it; go on, Beth, open it!'

Even as she untied the ribbons holding the two slats together, Beth wanted to hold her nose.

Whatever was inside smelt horrendous.

The stench was worse than ever when she turned the top slat aside. It was like something had gone off, having been left and forgotten in the bottom of the fridge for months.

There wasn't paper inside but something that looked like a solidified layer of oven pan grease.

It was hard, warped, and almost transparent.

Writing had been scratched into the surface, the ink having faded long ago to little more than the weak blue of a vein.

Tentatively, Beth picked one of the sheets up.

It was stiff, but as fragile as the wafers she'd had in Indian restaurants.

'What is it? It's not paper.'

'Its skin; stretched animal skin!'

With a horrified grimace, Beth let the sheet fall back on top of the others.

Her mum laughed.

'See, I told you the urge to write things down made our ancestors do some pretty weird things! Back in those days, that's what they had to use for paper; skin cleaned and stretched. Gran reckons they made this themselves, probably from rabbits they had caught for the pot. No wonder their neighbours thought they were witches, eh? Can you imagine walking into their old cottage and finding sheets of this hanging up to dry?'

Beth wasn't listening.

She had picked up the sheet again, and was studying it closely.

Yes, she hadn't been mistaken.

This was the passage about Merlin entrapping the demons and fays once again.

But the only thing that made it recognisable were the names underneath; _Gesta Britanniæ_ , Maidulph of Malmesbury.

It wasn't that it was unreadable because the original ink had faded away; someone had taken the trouble to carefully trace each letter in a later and no doubt better quality ink.

But the words, if in English, were an older form of English that Beth didn't recognise.

She wouldn't even have been able to make out 'Merlin' if someone hadn't helpfully written it down above one of the unrecognisable words.

'So...' Beth paused thoughtfully once again. She turned to her mum. 'Why did you give up mum? Why did you stop trying to find answers to what you were going through?'

Her mum reached out, grasped her hands tenderly.

'Because you were born, love. Gran said she went through the same thing when I was born. The dreams, the urge to find answers to them; they all just suddenly vanished.'

'But...but mum, you...well, dad says...'

Beth struggled for a polite way of saying that her mum had been worse after her birth.

'Dad says I was crazier, you mean?'

Her mum smiled wanly as she nodded in agreement.

'That's right, love; but you saw that yourself, didn't you? And I'm sorry for that, I really really am, Beth love. But it was a different craziness. Once you were born, I felt somehow; I don't know, it's hard to describe – lonely, empty. It was an incredible sense of loss, like a great part of me had disappeared, vanished. It _is_ crazy, I know, to say I missed that earlier me. This woman who'd had all these weird, frightening dreams I spent ages trying to understand. But I was a shell; yes, that's it! I felt like I was nothing but an empty shell and all my insides – the real me – had simply gone away! So, like an idiot, I thought I could find the real me again if I just got happy, got drunk, or lived life in a dream of drugs and–'

'Mum! That's an awful thing to say.' Beth was appalled. 'I can't have caused all that, I–'

Leaning forward, her mum hugged her tightly.

'Beth, Beth! You misunderstood me! It wasn't your fault, of course it wasn't your fault! I don't know what caused it, but I do know it wasn't you!'

Reaching out with one hand, she flicked through one of the old journals.

'See, it's something weird that runs in our family. These poor women here write about it time and time again. And some of them, poor dears, had their babies even though they weren't married. In those days, things like that could ruin any woman.'

Beth hugged her mum tightly. She couldn't stop the tears that were beginning to fall.

'Mum,' she said, 'it's good to have you back mum!'

A cold, uncontrollable surge of horror abruptly ran through Beth.

Deep inside, deep down inside, she realised she was laughing.

Mischievously laughing!

_Oh Beth, Beth! You_ are _to blame dear! For here I am, a part of_ you _now – and no longer a part of your poor mother._

*

# Chapter 20

Was she possessed?

Possessed by some evil spirit, like in those films, _The Exorcist_ , _The Poltergeist_?

How had that chair moved across the room last night?

Looking back, Beth could remember other things seeming to move, things she thought she had put in one place – she was _sure_ she had placed them there – only for them to appear somewhere else.

In the commune, amongst the crusties, they had often accused her of being simpleminded, of misplacing things they knew, for sure, that they had placed _just_ _there_. She had been the only one around to move it, so it _must_ have been her.

But, naturally, she had put it all down to faulty memories.

We all did it, didn't we? Thought we'd put something in such and such a place – we could have _sworn_ we did – only to discover it somewhere else later.

Now, she suddenly wasn't so sure.

She wondered if she should have told her mum. She should have asked her if she'd felt this way too; if she'd heard voices inside her.

But no one, no one in the notebooks, mentioned hearing voices.

They were just chaotic, unshakable thoughts, or recurring dreams, which they were all trying to make sense of.

Not inner, demonic voices.

No one talked of being possessed.

No one wondered if they should be asking the local priest for an exorcism.

So, despite the unusualness of her family, perhaps, yes, perhaps in _this_ case, she was just _imagining_ it.

Imagining the voice.

Talking to herself.

That was it.

Everyone talks to themselves at some point, don't they?

That's the way your conscience works, after all, isn't it?

_Hrumph; not in_ your _case dear._

*

People talk of having a 'restless sleep'.

They mean by this that they tossed and turned all night, and suffered disconcerting dreams.

So what terms could be used to describe Beth's sleep that night?

Her dreams were of glaring, penetrating eyes.

Of witches, stretching tenderly shaved skin.

Of objects moving around the house, even though no one was touching them.

Finally, the sun's sharp glare, streaming in through the window's thin curtains, woke her up with a start.

She sighed with relief.

She stretched lazily, languidly turning to see the time on her bedside clock.

The clock wasn't there.

The bedside table wasn't there.

Startled, she sat up.

And then she realised that her bed wasn't there either.

Glancing down, she saw that the bed, table and clock were still there.

Still where they had always been.

She was floating. Floating within touching distance of the ceiling.

*

# Chapter 21

Getting down from hovering just beneath the ceiling had been a lot easier than the startled Beth had thought it would be.

She had simply had to move as if she were getting out of the non-existent bed. Sliding her legs across a non-existent mattress and dangling them over the non-existent edge.

She had slowly dropped to the floor as if she had risen as usual from her bed.

She ended up standing alongside her bedside table as if it were all just a regular, normal morning.

She didn't mention it to her mum.

What was the point?

*

As she silently finished her breakfast, she watched TV.

Whatever had interested yesterday morning's hosts and newsreaders about Silbury Hill was no longer of interest to them.

All the world's airports had come to a standstill.

No matter what part of the globe was being filmed, the shots were virtually the same; hordes of angry people thronging airport concourses, making themselves as comfortable as they could on their own luggage and coats.

Many were weeping. Many arguing, threatening flustered airline staff.

The departure boards were motionless. No planes were taking off. Every one had been grounded after reports that those already airborne were experiencing frightening flying conditions.

Airliners were suddenly losing stability or height.

At least two planes were known to have crashed. Over a hundred had only narrowly averted disaster.

People stared blankly at the arrival boards, fretting over any flight that was overly delayed.

The military had been similarly affected.

The only aircraft still airborne was a fighter plane that had been deliberately designed to be aerodynamically unstable. It relied instead on an array of computers to constantly compensate for any loss of lift and maintain its stability.

'Is it the electrics, do you think love?'

Beth's mum stared absently at the TV screen as she picked up the used cereal bowls from the table.

'Electrics?'

'Well, yes; it could be the electrics, couldn't it? They've been playing up all morning. It took forever to boil the kettle earlier this morning. But now, for some reason, it's just the opposite; the water's boiling in next to no time.'

Beth frowned, wondering if her mum had just made a mistake. Got her timing wrong, something like that.

But as for the worldwide grounding of the planes, she couldn't see what could have caused that at all.

'I can't see as our dodgy old kettle's got anything to do with all these planes mum!' Beth chuckled as she headed for the door.

She noticed that her mum still hadn't had time to wash the bed sheets.

She thought about mentioning it to her mum.

Thought about saying, _please_ wash them _this_ _morning_ mum!

She didn't.

She would just look stupid, wouldn't she?

But as she made her way down the garden path, something inside her told her she had made a huge mistake.

She _should_ have said something.

*

# Chapter 22

After her experience with Donna, Kate and Claris the previous day, Kate took particular care to avoid bumping into them as she made her way to school.

She stopped at corners, peering around them before stepping out into the street.

If anyone had seen her, they would have thought it unusual behaviour – at best, they would have thought she had been watching too many spy films – but Beth didn't care.

Everyone already thought she was crazy anyway.

Fortunately, no one saw her, as far as she was aware.

And she didn't see anything of Donna until she was already at school.

Kate, basking in the terrified fawning of those graced by her presence, contented herself with walking around the school grounds as if she were royalty.

Claris ambled alongside her, collecting together and carrying the 'gifts' of sweets and money being offered by their cowering subjects.

Donna came forlornly up the rear, her eyes full of the confusion, fear and longing of a beaten dog.

Beth had feared that the teachers would make a great show of greeting her back to school. Thankfully, however, (doubtlessly because they wanted to avoid anything that would remind everyone of Miss Hilary's death) they treated her as if she had never been away.

Donna, Kate and Claris mostly took different classes, so when they appeared in the same room as Kate the threesome had at least been separated.

Donna resorted to taking her irritation out on Beth by glaring at her from across the room. Claris ignored her.

Kate observed her warily, as if still unsure what had happened yesterday. She eyed Beth as a potential and perhaps unpredictably dangerous rival for her new status.

Beth took advantage of a lull during the IT instruction class to browse the web.

She ignored the news headlines lamenting 'the confusion caused by the strange – and hopefully temporary – anomalies in both the Laws of Aerodynamics and Thermodynamics.'

She searched instead for information on the riddle uncovered beneath Silbury Hill.

She found a number of newspaper websites offering an answer to the riddle.

Plumping for the first one listed, she found it repeated the riddle, with the interpretation set out below. The professor enlisted by the newspaper to provide the answer was quite scathing in regards to the riddle's lack of complexity or ingenuity.

'It's not a particularly difficult riddle to answer. As we'd expect of what is, after all, nothing more than an admittedly elaborate prank. It's produced by the kind of people who would normally be out at night creating corn circles.'

Beth clicked on other websites.

There was a general consensus that the riddle's first lines were referring to Pi.

'A constant number, Pi is the ratio of _any_ circle's circumference to its diameter. Although Pi has no real form, and therefore can't be seen (except when written down), it dictates reality, such as the circles in the eyes we see with. It has long been recognised that, as constant numbers such as Pi actually govern form, they must necessarily have existed even before the creation of the universe. Long before you and I could think of them, in fact. And this led to the belief that they could only have arisen in the mind of God himself.'

But what about the last two lines? Beth thought; the lines about Troy?

So when Troy falls for a second time

My time finally ends too

She searched a number of other sites, only to find that most of them either ignored these last two lines or dismissed them as 'an irrelevance'.

It was doubtlessly added, a site maintained, ' _primarily_ because it doesn't make any sense – thereby making their riddle more enigmatic than otherwise deserved.'

Beth had heard of Troy.

She knew it was an ancient, walled city that had fallen to the Greeks after they had tricked the Trojans into accepting a huge, wooden horse full of their best warriors.

But that had been thousands of years ago. And Troy had lain in ruins for almost as long.

What's more, Troy was in Turkey, thousands of miles away from Silbury Hill.

Perhaps the experts were right.

Perhaps it was all just a great big joke.

The words 'Silbury Hill – Latest' flashed up in a banner running across the top of the screen.

Beth was tempted to ignore the banner's urgent, red-tinged flashing. But the words were immediately followed by others that caught her interest.

'Breaking news; Silbury Hill Calendar moving! Ar...'

Without waiting to read the rest, Beth clicked on the banner.

Unlike the riddle, the calendar was genuine; even the experts had confirmed that.

Clicking on the banner took her to a web page showing a diagram of the calendar and the video cameras placed around it.

The icon representing one of these cameras blinked, a superimposed title claiming that it was 'Now Live'.

The grainy black and white images being recorded by the camera appeared in the top right hand corner of the screen.

This camera was more or less focused on the area where Beth had tumbled off the cog as it had come to an abrupt halt.

She could see the cogs that marked off the days.

Everything was wobbling slightly, as if the camera hadn't been secured properly.

It suddenly dawned on Beth that it wasn't the camera that was moving.

It was the cogs.

At the top of the screen, the remaining part of the banner she had earlier ignored confirmed this.

'Silbury Hill Calendar moving! Archaeologists and scientists amazed!'

Below, there was extra, more explanatory text.

'It has been established by our reporter that the Calendar's slow movement was first noticed yesterday. It was later observed that the cogs had moved to register the passing of another day.'

I told them the calendar had moved by itself!

Beth was so ecstatic she almost crowed out loud, almost raised her arms in a grateful cheer.

She read on.

'It had originally been presumed that the cogs had been knocked or dislodged by a careless archaeologist. But playback of the camera's recording revealed that the cogs' movement had taken place unaided.'

The cogs' movement was now more pronounced, more obvious than ever, on the video footage.

The teeth of one cog were pushing hard against the teeth of another.

Inaudibly, the cogs clicked into their new position.

It registered the passing of one more day.

That would be _today's_ date then, Beth surmised.

With the fizz and buzz of interrupted electronic signals, the computer's screen abruptly blanked out.

*

# Chapter 23

The classroom's neon lights instantly died.

Everyone in the class moaned and groaned.

There were complaints that a 'computer was bust, Miss,' that 'there's no connection.' 'The power's gone,' others wailed, along with, 'the electricity's been cut off!'

Within a minute, everyone but the teacher was whooping, cheering and laughing excitedly.

Many nosily drummed their desks. Similar noises were coming from the classes next door, which everyone took as a definite sign that the whole school had been affected.

'Does this mean school's over Miss?'

'There's no point in staying here now is there?'

'Might as well all go home! Yeah!'

The teacher, Miss Doughburne, vainly tried to regain order.

'Now now! Let's have some quiet, shall we? It's probably only a power cut, that's all!'

'Then how come our mobiles aren't working Miss?

A number of girls towards the back of the glass were irately holding up their mobile phones. They blankly glared at Miss Doughburne like she might be the one responsible.

'We tried to ring our mates, but there ain't no network!'

'My iPod's not working neither,' another grumbled miserably, shaking it as if the battery just needed jolting back into position.

'Well I'm sure that–'

With the intention of calling reception to see if anyone knew what was happening, Miss Doughburne had reached for her own desk phone. But it was completely dead. All she heard was the dull whistle of a broken connection.

Beth eyed Kate warily, looking for the secret, gleeful smile that would indicate she had somehow caused all this with her recently acquired powers.

But Kate appeared to be as bemused as anyone else in the class.

'Well that _is_ odd.' Miss Doughburne turned back to the class. 'But I'm sure there's some simple explanation for everything that's happening. So there's no need for us all to go acting silly now, is there?'

Her face filled with relief as one of the other teachers stepped into the classroom. They talked quietly for a moment, taking turns to frown or raise their eyebrows in puzzlement.

When the other teacher finally left, Miss Doughburne had to shout above the noise of the increasingly rowdy class.

'Listen carefully, please! Listen carefully! Now, if you normally catch a school bus, or are usually picked up to go home, you need to make your way to the school hall. Once the phones are working again, we can make arrangements for you. As for the rest of you – you can all go home! The school has been closed for the day!'

The whooping, laughing, cheering and crashing of desktops reached a crescendo. Even Beth leapt up excitedly from her seat, throwing her schoolbooks into her bag.

She cast a wary eye Kate's way once again, realising she would have to take care to avoid crossing her path once they were all outside.

But Kate, who was sitting by the long row of windows looking out on to the street, was too busy breathlessly babbling with some of her new followers to pay Beth any attention.

Besides, Beth had just caught sight of something that was far worse than Kate, Claris and Donna combined.

Foley.

Out on the street, Foley was casually leaning against a lamppost.

He turned, as if he had sensed that Beth was watching him.

He smiled.

He waved cheerily, mockingly.

*

# Chapter 24

Outside in the schoolyard, it was more chaotic than it had been in the classroom.

It seemed that no one had bothered making their way to the school hall, as they had been ordered to do if they had no way of getting home.

Everyone was eager to just get free of the school buildings, leaving worrying about making their way home for later.

Beth breathed a sigh of relief. She could use the densely packed crowd slowly pushing its way through the gates as cover to get past Foley.

What chance did he have of spotting her amongst all these excited school kids?

Just to be sure, she wormed her way towards the very centre. She bent her legs slightly too, trying to completely disappear amongst them.

She was no longer concerned about Donna and her friends; they would merely taunt her, torment her. But Foley – he would come pretty well close to killing her for losing Foal.

Through the mass of bobbing heads that lay between them, Beth caught glimpses of the patiently waiting Foley.

He had moved away from the lamppost. He was now hanging around the edges of the languidly moving throng of children, where it began to fan out and disperse once clear of the gates.

It wasn't just Foley's tall, lanky frame that made him standout so much.

His dyed blue-black hair, his pinched, ghostly-white face, made him a comic-book artist's dream.

If a movie director ever came into town seeking an extra for a vampire movie, Foley was your man.

He even had the right kind of red-ringed, endlessly searching eyes too.

Ones that looked like they could peer through wood to find you.

And yep, the more Beth thought about it, Foley's mouth _always_ hung partially open, like long fangs were getting in the way. (But really, of course, because an over reliance on drugs had sapped his face muscles.)

He didn't seem unduly concerned that Beth could be hiding amongst the frantically buzzing swarm slowly making its way past him.

He nonchalantly scanned the crowd, looking this way then that over their heads.

Then, suddenly, his gaze alighted on Beth.

Damn!

How did he do that?

It was like he knew I was here!

He did, idiot!

*

Beth ignored the voice.

She told herself it was just her conscience screaming at her to start doing the sensible rather than the idiot thing.

She ducked and moved farther into the surrounding crowd.

Farther away from Foley.

He didn't seem to be following her from what she could see.

He didn't seem to care that she was slipping farther away from him.

Perhaps, she hoped, he could no longer see her.

She still had all those excited, swarming children between her and Foley. And, with every passing second, she was putting even more distance between them.

Sure, she was rapidly coming to the point where the crowd was fanning out and dispersing. Which would mean she would be more or less in the open and would have to make a run for it.

But to get to her, Foley would either have to push his way past the other children or head around the crowd's front.

Either way, it would delay him enough for her to get a head start on him.

Just to increase that start as much as possible, she broke into a run before she was even completely out in the open.

Tucking the shoulder bag holding her books hard against her waist to stop it flapping painfully against her hips, she weaved between the other children.

She brusquely pushed aside anyone who was careless enough to get in her way

'Sorry, sorry, but my life depends on this, honest!'

*

As soon as she could, Beth ducked down one of the long, winding gaps that ran between the houses.

It would take her on a detour, but by the time Foley had fought his way through the crowd he would find himself looking down a street full of uniformed children. There would be enough of them who looked like her from a distance to confuse him, extending her lead by a few more minutes.

By the time he had worked out which path she had taken, she would have made so many quick directional changes down the warren of lanes and ginnels that he wouldn't have any idea where she was headed.

Unless – had she ever let Foley, or anyone else amongst the crusties, know where her mum lived?

She didn't think so.

Then again, she had never let anyone know which school she had attended.

Yet he had still found her.

How had he done that?

_Why_ had he done that?

Surely he wasn't that angry about losing Foal?

She smelt it before she saw it – the reek of burning wood, like someone had lit a huge bonfire amongst the maze of houses.

Wisps of smoke were curling their way down towards her.

Looking up, she saw thicker, darker plumes scudding across the rooftops.

It was blowing her way from the direction of her mum's house.

But surely...

She broke into a sprint.

She was worrying needlessly, she knew that. It would just be a bonfire, lit in the garden of one of mum's neighbours and now just a little bit out of control.

She turned the corner into her mum's street.

Her mum's house was fiercely ablaze.

*

# Chapter 25

'Mum, mum!'

Beth charged down the street.

The fire brigade were already there. The fire engine was parked up as close as it could to the blazing house. By the garden wall, crouching firemen were tightly gripping a bucking hose.

The house was being sprayed with plumes of water that, reflecting the flames, glowed as fiercely red as the fire itself. Horrified neighbours milled in the street, kept at a safe distance by a handful of firemen who were stretching out a rickety fence of tape.

People screamed, or cried, or hid their faces in their hands.

Urgently and carelessly, Beth pushed through the watching people, ignoring their concerned cries.

'Beth, it's Beth! Her daughter.'

'Don't go on in Beth love! It's too late!'

'You can't do anything!'

'It's too dangerous Beth!'

She ducked beneath the long lines of yellow tape.

She caught a glimpse of a boy she recognised amongst the watching crowd.

Galilee Green!

It was Galilee Green, the boy who had rescued her from Donna and her friends yesterday.

He gawped at her, like he was more shocked to see her here than she was surprised to see him.

As she rose up on the other side of the tape, one of the firemen suddenly reached out to grab her.

But she swerved, wriggled. She easily slipped out of the poor grip offered by his thick, unwieldy gloves.

He spun around as if to chase after her, but he had to turn back to contain the surging crowd. Many of them seemed ready to follow her through the tape.

Beth rushed towards the crouching firemen playing the hose's spouting contents back and forth across the front of the house.

'Mum! My mum's in there! I've got to go in!'

Despite her anxiety, Beth almost froze in astonishment.

Was she going crazy?

Weren't those _flames_ shooting out from the hose's end, not water?

From a distance, she had assumed it was simply the jets of water reflecting the blaze's red glow.

But now she was up close, she was almost sure of it; the firemen were pouring streams of fire onto her mum's house!

They were feeding the blaze, not dousing it!

'What are you doing here?'

As if he had come out of nowhere, a fireman was standing in front of her, blocking her way. He had the air of authority about him, the slightly different uniform of an officer.

He had to shout over the incredible noise of the hose.

'Get back behind the tape! It isn't safe here!'

Beth shook her head. She must be panicked, confused.

Yes, it still _looked_ like the firemen were shooting a fountain of flames towards her mother's house. But that was crazy; why would they be doing that?

Her mum was in there, needing help.

And she was wasting time thinking crazy thoughts!

'But my mum; my mum might still be in there!' Beth wailed.

The officer's eyes narrowed in puzzlement.

'Your mum, you say? You say your _mum's_ in there?'

Didn't they know? Hadn't any of the neighbours told them?

'Yes, yes! My mum! I need to get in there! Please!'

Beth could see very little of the commander's face, yet she still recognised the horror rising in his eyes.

'But we were told th– You're her _daughter_? You're Jerusalem Jones' _daughter_?'

'Yes, yes, I'm her daughter!' What was wrong with him? 'Please, please! I need to see if she's okay!'

The officer tapped the shoulder of one of the crouching firemen. The fireman had to turn around to hear the command being yelled at him.

'Let her in!'

The officer indicated Beth with a nod of his head. The crouching firemen momentarily appeared confused.

'But – it's too dangerous in there!' he bellowed back at his officer.

'Let her in!' the officer insisted. 'She's her _daughter_!'

The crouching fireman's eyebrows raised in surprise.

He spun back towards the rest of his team, giving instructions by tapping shoulders and pointing off to one side of the house.

They directed the hose towards that side, leaving the way up the garden path towards the door clear.

Suddenly, the officer's hand was on the back of Beth's shoulders, pushing her forward.

'Go on then; run!'

Without stopping to think too deeply about how odd all this was – a gang of firemen allowing a young girl to go rushing into a blazing building – Beth dashed up the path towards what was left of the heavily burnt door.

But – it _was_ all _very_ odd, wasn't it?

She slowed, began to turn, to look back.

It really was a jet of flame gushing from the hose, bathing the house in vast blooms of roaring fire.

The firemen were once again changing the direction of the surging fountain of flame.

They were swinging it back.

And pointing it directly at her.

*

# Chapter 26

Instinctively – pathetically – Beth ducked.

Equally uselessly, she cradled her head in her arms.

The roaring flames should have engulfed her.

Instead, they either wrapped around her, or soared high over her head.

Beth felt the incredible heat of the passing flames. Yet, incredibly, she was still alive.

Cautiously, she raised her head.

She gawped in amazement.

It wasn't just the flames that had curled about her.

Somehow, the ground itself had risen up around her, forming a barrier that was redirecting the blaze. The earth poured with water.

All she could think was that the incredible heat had burst an underground water main, the water fiercely gushing to the surface and bringing up all the soil with it.

It seemed unlikely – but wasn't everything else that was happening to her today?

Mum!

Beth abruptly remembered why she was here. Why she was trying to avoid being incinerated by a bunch of murderous firemen.

She was supposed to be rescuing her mum.

She spun around, wondering how far it was to the door. But it was completely hidden behind a flowing, roaring wall of flame.

There was no way she could make her way through that without being burnt to a crisp within a couple of seconds.

Before she could decide what to do, there was an ear-dulling _whhoomph_!

An incredibly strong blast almost blew her to the ground.

The gust whipped her hair and clothes as if she had been caught in a tornado. Vast sheets of flame erupted from the street, leaping high into the air.

Amongst the soaring flames there were also huge chunks of metal, pieces of ladder, numerous wheels and tyres, and curls of writhing hose.

The fire engine had exploded. And – confirming Beth's belief that it had been filled with inflammable materials rather than water – the flames shot up higher than ever.

They also burned with ever-greater intensity around her.

'Beth! Come with me!'

A man's voice!

Foley's voice!

It seemed to be coming from deep within the conflagration lying between her and where the fire engine had been.

'Beth – trust me!'

And it sounded like he was drawing nearer.

*

Foley didn't just step out of the flames – he seemed to be almost walking on them.

They allowed him to step over the wall protecting Beth. He dropped down to the floor alongside her.

He smiled crookedly, offering her his arm as if he were a Victorian gentleman asking a lady for the next dance.

'Beth, this is no problem for us.' He winked conspiratorially. 'What are you messing about at, eh?'

'Us? Messing about?'

'Yes, us! I recognise who you really are now, Beth. No wonder I put up with you for so long! I must've sensed who you really were long ago!'

Beth couldn't make any sense of what Foley was saying.

She was so bewildered by it all that, as if she were in some perplexing dream, she allowed Foley to put his arm around her. He calmly walked her through the flames towards the door.

The flames weren't touching either of them. They were walking inside a swirling, whirling ball of fire.

The door burst into fragments before the spinning ball of fire. They stepped into the house.

It was a chaos of burning, falling timbers. Flames devoured curtains, carpets and the remnants of furniture.

The unwashed bed sheets left on the kitchen top by Beth's mum were also alight, making their own small, individual bonfire.

'Mum! Mum! Where are you?'

Beth anxiously peered up through the massive holes in the layers of floors and ceilings, hoping for at least get a glimpse or her mum. Perhaps she might even hear her shouting back.

'She's dead, Beth,' Foley coolly stated. 'You must know that. That's why they're here – to kill. Although it was you they were meant to kill.'

Beth didn't want to believe him.

She struggled to break free, to charge through the churning wall of flame protecting them.

But burning timbers were falling everywhere around them. The ball of flame was her only protection. It either deflected or swiftly incinerated anything falling directly their way.

No one could have survived this.

She whirled angrily on Foley, tears in her eyes, like it was all his fault.

'To kill _me_? But...but why set the house on fire? Why kill mum?'

Foley grinned.

'Because we were lucky! They must've thought your mum was still you!'

_'Still_ me?'

From the rear of the house, there came a tremendous crashing of splintering wood and glass.

Through the haze of the roaring flames, through the gaps that used to be gaily papered walls full of paintings, Beth glimpsed a colossal fireman. Using a double-handed axe, he was smashing his way in through the rear door.

'There are more of them! Coming in through the back!'

*

Strangely, Foley didn't have to shout to be heard above the incredible levels of noise.

He seemed unconcerned, too, by the heavily muscled fireman making his way towards them.

The fireman smashing everything in his path with his huge axe.

With a casual hand movement, Foley seemed to redirect the flames towards the approaching fireman.

Beth screamed, expecting the poor fireman to be engulfed by the swiftly advancing flames. But, as if abruptly caught in a vortex of swirling wind, the flames abruptly stopped rushing forward.

They danced, flickered, then soared up through what was left of the building.

For the first time, Beth detected a touch of nervousness in Foley. Other firemen were now breaking in through the windows at both the front and back of the house.

'There aren't just humans here!'

Clutching her waist tighter than ever, Foley effortlessly lifted Beth off her feet.

'We have to get out of here! They might have more developed powers than ours!'

Beth tensed as she felt him preparing to carry her off through the flames once more.

Not just humans? Powers more developed than ours? What was he on about?

Amongst the chaos, something gleamed, sparkled.

It was as if all the brightness of the flames had been condensed into one small spot.

Despite it being a fake, the huge ruby of the replica Excalibur glowed like a setting sun. Standing upright amid the burning wreck of the house, the sword was embedded in what had been the living room's floor.

Glancing up, Beth saw that it must have tumbled down through the broken floors once most of the loft had burnt away.

'No, wait!'

She struggled in Foley's arms to stop him rushing off.

'The sword! I must get the sword!'

Foley momentarily looked at her as if she were crazed, then smiled.

'Sure, if it's important.'

Truth was, Beth couldn't understand how it could be important at all. She just knew that she had to take it with her.

They swept through the lashing flames towards the sword.

The tangled remains of a pearl-studded gown lay around it.

Beth gripped the handle. It was hot, but she didn't mind.

She wrenched on it, only to be surprised how easily it slipped out of the wooden floorboards it had become embedded in.

As part of the movement, the sword rose into the air, the blade flashing and gleaming as if it were made of fire.

It was the oddest thing; Beth felt exhilarated, invincible.

'Right, let's go,' Foley insisted, breaking what had felt like a powerful spell.

Beth was expecting Foley to somehow break out of the front door in the same way they had entered the house, perhaps rushing past the surprised firemen.

Instead, he spun them both around and charged towards the wall adjoining the neighbouring house.

As if they were a blazing meteor, they burst through the wall in an explosion of shattered bricks and plaster.

They tore through the house next door, a house that still looked more or less as her mum's house had looked when Beth had left it that morning; cosy furniture, bright curtains, pretty pictures.

Next came another wall, then another surprisingly normal looking home.

Foley's ball of flame effortlessly tore through them all.

At last, they exploded though the very last wall of the row of houses. They found themselves standing on a curiously calm and quiet street.

The fireball's roaring flames swirled, ebbed, rushed into each other; then seemed to slip away into Foley's fingertips.

'We don't want to draw attention to ourselves do we?'

With a gently applied pressure on her arm, Foley forced Beth into a run.

'Not just yet, anyway, eh?' he added with a mischievous grin.

Just as Beth had tried to avoid Foley by taking the lanes running between the houses, they headed down the nearest alleyway.

Beth wistfully glanced back towards the burning house.

From behind the corner of a house, a boy was watching them.

He ducked back behind the wall.

But it was too late; Beth had recognised him.

Galilee Green.

And she had also seen that his face was etched with anguish and fear.

*

# Chapter 27

As soon as they were sure they weren't being followed, Foley slid to a halt.

Lifting Beth up high by the waist, he twirled her in the air like she was some long-lost sister.

Beth would have dropped the sword in surprise if her hand hadn't instinctively tightened around the handle.

Even by Foley's usual crass standards, it was incredibly insensitive. How could he wave her around so jubilantly when he knew she had just lost her mum in the most horrible way imaginable?

'Incredible!' he cried excitedly. 'You did it! The riddle! The calendar! It was all so amazing!'

If anyone was talking in riddles, it was Foley.

Obviously, he was referring to her discovery of the riddle and the calendar. But why would he think it was so amazing?

'Foley,' she cried tearfully, 'don't you realise my mum has just died in that fire? And now...now I won't even get to see her body!'

Struggling against him furiously, she pushed herself free and moved away from him.

He laughed.

Laughed!

'Oh come on! We don't need to worry about silly little things like that anymore!'

Silly little things? Mum's death is a silly little thing?

Beth was dumbstruck.

Foley was trying to phone someone on his mobile phone.

He sniggered.

'Now I'm being the silly one, aren't I, eh? There's no signal, is there, eh?' He nonchalantly tossed the mobile aside. 'Force of habit, yeah?'

He caught Beth giving him a bewildered stare,

As he stared back into her eyes, he frowned, like something had just dawned on him.

'You don't really know, do you?'

His stare was now intense, probing.

Beth sensed his gaze somehow penetrating way beyond her eyes. He seemed to be seeing something deep within her that even she wasn't conscious of.

'No. You're not completely aware yet, are you?' he said. 'But then how...all those? That really _is_ incredible!'

'Not aware? Sure, Foley; I'm not at all aware what you're jabbering on about!'

Foley stepped back, but only so he could observe her even more intently.

'Now that _is_ interesting! Very interesting indeed!'

'What was happening back there Foley? Why did those firemen kill my mum?'

Foley shrugged, like it was a trivial question and the answer didn't really matter.

'Because they made a big mistake. It's you they were after.' As he spoke, he reached towards the bag still hanging off Beth's shoulder. 'Could I have your bag a minute?'

Beth hadn't realised she still had her shoulder bag. It hung limp and weightless against her side. The books and pens had been lost at some time during the last few minutes.

'Me? But why would they want to kill me?'

Blankly, Beth slipped the bag off her shoulder and handed it to Foley.

He sniggered again as he began to skilfully tear at the bag with a knife he had produced from his trousers. He began to swiftly retie the straps and buckles, creating a whole new contraption.

Foley was a genius when it came to creating new uses for salvaged materials.

'Well, that's something you _should_ know. But the fact you don't shows you've still got a long way to go, eh?'

He placed a hand on her shoulder and, as he had done earlier, gave a little push to set her off walking once again.

'Talking of which, as I can't use my mobile, we're going to have to walk to the Magic Bus.'

'The Magic Bus? You brought it here?'

The Magic Bus meant friends she hadn't seen for a while. Friends she thought she would never see again.

Friends who, unlike Foley, would understand she needed comforting.

'Well, it actually brought me! Or did you think I flew here?'

Beth stared quizzically at Foley.

Yep, if he hadn't been so flip about it, she might actually have considered that he had flown here.

'Foley, were you really controlling the flames back there? That's what it seemed like. Where did all these powers come from? Was it you who blew up the fire engine?'

She brought a hand up to her mouth in horror

'Did you kill them – the firemen? And the neighbours? Did you kill any of them too?'

Indicating that he wanted her to draw closer, Foley slipped the contraption of straps he had created over both her shoulders.

'The firemen were trying to kill you, remember? As for all the other questions, well; you'll find the answers to all of them soon enough once you start really waking up.'

He gave a further indication that he needed the sword.

Taking it, he carefully slid it through a series of loops so that it hung uncomfortably down Beth's back.

Waking up? What did he mean by that?

Yes, she really did have so many questions to ask.

But for the moment, thinking about it, she just wanted to walk, to trudge along doing nothing more than putting one foot in front of the other.

She had just lost her mum. Just a day after having, in a sense, found her for the first time.

Her mum, her poor mum.

She would never see her again

Oh don't be such a crybaby! Of course you will!

*

# Chapter 28

Okay okay, she got it!

There was a _something_ , or a _someone_ , deep inside her!

That voice, that voice! It really was coming from every single part of her! Not just from somewhere within her head.

Did that terrify her?

It sure did!

Which is why she didn't want to believe that this is what Foley meant when he had said she wasn't aware yet.

That she wasn't aware of this spirit or whatever it was hiding away within her.

What had he also said?

That she wasn't fully awake yet?

And he wasn't scared, was he?

And he seemed to have all these extra, amazing powers too!

So...was she some sort of ultra-special person? Someone who just needed to realise her powers?

And that voice – was it just her conscience after all, trying to bring her attention to her hidden talents?

She wasn't sure.

She _couldn't_ be sure.

But she wanted to believe that the voice inside her, whatever it was, was right when it said she would meet her mum once again.

She didn't know, couldn't see, how that would be possible.

But there were an awful lot of things that had happened over the last few days that she wouldn't have said were possible either.

*

As she and Foley turned the corner, they were faced with the explosion of bright colours that was the Magic Bus.

A one-time wreck of a coach from the nineteen-fifties, it was only just kept roadworthy with the judicious use of scavenged materials.

The paintwork looked as if it had been left in the hands of a graffiti gang with too much money to spend on spray cans. The rooftop luggage rack was decked out like an old living room. Foley and anyone else crazy enough to join him would sometimes sit on the rooftop's old sofas and chairs as the coach rattled and belched its way down the motorway.

The swing door towards the front was open.

Beth could hear the strains of The Cure playing. She could also hear the excited yapping of a small, overly-energetic dog.

'Foal!'

Beth started to run.

Almost immediately, the little sausage dog appeared at the door. Bounding down the bus steps, Foal sprinted towards Beth.

As Beth dropped to her knees, Foal leapt into her arms, licking her face so ferociously it made Beth giggle.

'Foal, Foal! You're all right. You're back!'

She turned to look back at the nonchalantly approaching Foley.

'But how...? I thought you'd come looking for me! I thought you'd blamed me for losing her!'

'I did blame you!' Foley gave her a self-satisfied grin. 'But we found out where she had been taken. We took her back!'

'Thanks to our superhero here, we didn't have no problems neither.'

Hearing the familiar deep, slightly croaky voice, Beth looked up. The massive, rounded bulk that was Geraldine loomed over her.

'You really wouldn't believe how he did it neither,' Geraldine added, observing Foley with a puzzled frown.

Beth couldn't be sure, yet, somehow, Geraldine didn't seem quite as, well, _rounded_ as she had been just a few days ago.

Surely she couldn't have had the baby already?

Beth, still cuddling the excitedly writhing Foal, rose to her feet.

'I think I would,' she said in reply to Geraldine. 'Was it anything to do with fire?'

Geraldine nodded. 'Been up to it again has he? Naughty boy!'

Beth smiled, for the moment hiding her curiosity about the lack of Geraldine's bump.

Just as she was hiding and keeping in check her anguish over the loss of her mum.

She desperately wanted to let all her grief pour out. And Geraldine would be typically understanding and sympathetic.

But Beth knew that once she started talking about her mum, she would break down, letting the tears and the reminiscences and the self-recriminations flow.

And, for some reason, she didn't want Foley to see her that way.

She didn't want him to see her being _weak_.

Good girl – you're learning.

*

# Chapter 29

Foley was at the wheel of the Magic Bus.

That meant everyone else had to cling precariously to their seats.

As usual, he was throwing the bus around as if it had never been built to go straight.

Fortunately, there were fewer cars on the road than normal. The surprisingly large number that were parked along the roadsides, however, created frustrating obstacles in their own right.

Every move Foley made elicited angry cries (but not, surprisingly, the usual blare of horns) from the cars he had only just marginally avoided steaming into.

If anything, he was being more daring and reckless than ever. He was almost miraculously fitting the Magic Bus through the narrowest of gaps.

'Use your lights, your lights you stupid old git,' he would scream every now and again.

He seemed completely oblivious to the fact he never used tiresome things like indicators himself.

'What's wrong with everyone today? No one's using their lights!'

Beth clung on to Foal who, nose to the window, yapped excitedly at the many angrily waving people they passed.

Geraldine resolutely stared directly ahead, her vast, swaying bulk apparently absorbing most of the bus's erratic scything.

The only other crusty aboard the bus was Solstice. His lean body bent and curved rhythmically with each jolt, like a reed in the wind.

His eyes were locked on the sword Beth had laid across one of the empty seats.

Solstice had eagerly reached for the sword when Beth had first boarded the bus.

Noticing how effortlessly Beth had slipped it out of its shoulder strap, he had been taken by surprise by its weight. He had glared at her, assuming it must be some trick designed to make him look foolish.

'Sorry,' Beth had said quickly, sensing his anger.

She had seen the way Solstice could quickly flare up over any perceived slight. 'I don't know why it does that. Or why I don't find it heavy.'

'Ah, _another_ mystery, eh?'

Whenever he made a rare attempt at smiling, baring a mouth crammed with large, sharp teeth, Solstice's wasted, pointed face looked more rat-like than ever.

'Like the mystery of where Foley got all these weird powers, eh?'

His bulging, probing eyes were overflowing with distrust, like he believed she and Foley were keeping something from him. Something that he had far more right to than they did.

His intense stare had only wavered when he had been momentarily distracted by Foley sliding into the driving seat, his eyes popping all the more as his waxy skin tightened with fear.

Solstice was obviously more terrified of Foley than ever. Especially a Foley who insisted on driving the Magic Bus through crowded traffic.

Pulling Foal back from barking at a furious cyclist forced onto the pavement, Beth ignored Solstice's envious gawping at the sword.

What had Beth been thinking earlier when she had heard the Magic Bus was in town? That it would be great to be amongst friends once again?

Yeah, she had forgotten about six-foot rodents like Solstice.

Still, there were people she _had_ missed, including Geraldine.

Geraldine's determined expression creased into a sour frown as she took an abrupt swallow from a can of strong lager.

That decided it for Beth. Geraldine was no longer pregnant.

It had amazed everyone when Geraldine – 'For the good of the wee mite, you understand?' – had consistently refused all offers of a drink while pregnant.

Was Geraldine's loss so painful to her that she just didn't want to talk about it? Or did she fear that mentioning it would look like she was laying her troubles on other people?

That would be typical of Geraldine.

How could Beth bring up such a delicate subject without risking upsetting Geraldine?

She realised she literally had the answer in her hands. Foal.

'Gerry,' she said, 'when I was, er, caught outside Silbury Hill, they told me Foal wasn't pregnant. Is that right? Wasn't she pregnant after all?'

Beth almost bit her tongue. This wasn't a great way of bringing up the subject at all!

What had she been thinking?

Fortunately, Geraldine didn't look upset in the slightest. She actually gave a resigned chuckle.

'I reckon she had exactly the same thing as me, dearie – a phantom pregnancy. That's what the doctor called it.'

Shifting in her seat, she raised her stomach towards Beth as if making it obvious that there was no longer any bump there.

'See, what the doctor didn't tell me – but what I found out from other women I'd met visiting him around the same time – is that there's an awful lot of women in our area who suffered these here phantom pregnancies. Which says to me, girl, that what we were all really suffering from was pollution! Pollution in the land, or pollution in the water – who knows? But pollution's the only thing that could explain it, don't you think?'

Beth nodded in agreement.

'So...you're not...'

'Not upset?' Geraldine followed it with a full-hearted laugh. 'Course I regret it! How many months did I go without a drink, eh? Making up for it now like, eh, me dearie?'

She raised the can of lager in a mock toast before taking another long slug.

Beth smiled wryly. That's how Geraldine had ended up thinking she was pregnant without knowing who the father was.

'Petrol station coming up!'

In response to Foley's cry from the front of the bus, Solstice leapt up out of his seat and dashed forward.

In a well practised if still ridiculously dangerous manoeuvre, Foley clambered out of the driving seat. Solstice, slipping in around the other side, deftly took his place.

To make all this possible, the back of what had been a separate driving cab had been cutaway. The original seat had also been replaced with one boasting both a swivel base and a back that flipped positions.

The bus hardly slowed, moving forward under its own momentum until Solstice could reach the accelerator.

Foley took up his place by the door, geeing himself up in readiness to jump out and run around to the other side of the small island of pumps.

There he would start filling up the tank with petrol from the pump some other poor, surprised schmuck had parked his car by.

It was up to Solstice to choose a set of pumps where the bus could block the view of any garage attendants.

'Oh ohh.'

Solstice's worried tones floated back from the cab as he pulled into the garage's drive.

'Take a look see Foley! We might just have to spoil the habit of a lifetime and pay up here!'

Everyone stared out of the windows.

There weren't any other cars parked up alongside any of the pumps, most of which had large 'Out of order' signs draped across them.

The attendant, a brightly dressed, lanky Asian, was standing by the only set working. He greeted them with a toothy grin, waving an arm to indicate that they should pull over on his side.

But worst of all, as far as Foley and Solstice were concerned, was the heavily armed soldier.

And he was grimly eyeing the bus as if it could be some bizarre form of terrorist attack.

*

# Chapter 30

'What the hell's the army doing here?' Foley breathed furiously.

'I saw a few armoured cars and trucks passing by on the road,' Geraldine said indifferently. 'Probably just out on manoeuvres – or whatever it is they call it. You know, war games, that kind of thing.'

Foley ignored her. He was too busy watching the attendant, who was waving his arms urgently and yelling at them.

'What's he saying?' he shouted up towards Solstice, who had wound down a window.

'He says we shouldn't shut off our engine. We've got to keep it running.'

'Bit odd that, yeah?' Foley frowned. 'Normally we get everybody complaining when we keep it running, ready for a quick getaway.'

'Suits us though! I don't fancy cranking the old girl up again.'

Solstice shrugged his skinny shoulders, his pained muscles remembering how tiring it had been to crank the Magic Bus into action earlier. Being so old, the bus didn't have an electric ignition like just about every other vehicle.

'None of the car batteries are working right!'

The attendant grinned cheerfully as Foley, swinging the bus doors aside, climbed down towards the pumps.

'They'll keep your spark plugs working if you're lucky, but that's about it. Probably because everything else just sparks even when it's not supposed to!'

The attendant pointed off towards a corner of the forecourt where a number of cars had been crammed as close together as possible.

'The ones we couldn't push into life, we ended up pushing over there!'

'Why's that?' Beth asked.

She and Geraldine had stepped off the bus just behind Foley, intending to visit the garage's shop. They had left Foal angrily yapping away in the bus's specially constructed animal pen.

'Is it anything to do with the computers going down? And with the electricity being cut off?'

As Foley opened the petrol cap and inserted the pipe end, the attendant started to frenziedly work a large handle to pump up the petrol. Despite the effort he had to put into it, he was still grinning happily.

'Everything electrical's down, Miss. Including these petrol pumps.'

He nodded over to the sternly grimacing soldier.

'Affected supplies too, so everything's rationed. Oh, and that includes what you can buy in the shop.'

He yelled the last bit at Geraldine, who was already languidly making her way towards the store.

There was another grim faced soldier and another smiling attendant inside the shop, both standing behind the counter.

The rationing didn't bother Geraldine, who had no intention of paying for the vast majority of things she wanted. These were deftly slipped inside the innumerable pockets lining her baggy coat.

Five items disappeared beneath its multiple, dishevelled folds for every one going into her basket.

It was even easier than normal, as the video cameras weren't working.

Even so, as Beth entered she slid naturally into her own familiar role, distracting the young attendant's attention. She constantly appeared to be on the point of sneaking something into her pocket only to put it back at the last second.

Solstice stepped through the double doors that, devoid of electricity, had had to be forced and jammed into a partially open position.

He half turned, his heavily tattooed body lizard-like as it twisted almost unnaturally on prominently bony hips.

Checking on Foley's progress filling up the bus – the cap being tightened, the pump pipe being returned to its holster – he grinned wickedly.

Oh no! Not here Solstice!

Knowing from experience what that grin usually meant, Beth secretly prayed.

Please! Not when we have soldiers about!

Geraldine was at the counter, paying for the handful of items in her basket.

Solstice took his place behind her, drawing a few crumpled notes from his pocket to pay for the petrol – and Beth sighed with relief.

Even so, as she followed Geraldine out of the door, she glanced back to check that Solstice wasn't going to try something completely stupid.

Like insisting that the attendant paid him everything in the till as a special thank you for his custom.

Thankfully, he innocently slid the money across the counter. He smiled, and waited for his change.

But his face was tautly sunken. It was a sure sign that he was tensing.

He was preparing himself to put into action whatever crazy thing he had got in mind.

Please, please no Solstice! You'll get us killed this time!

Beth hurried after Geraldine.

Geraldine moved in a slow, practised waddle to hide the fact that she was weighed down with enough shopping to feed a family of three for a week.

She was so well trained in this tactic that she didn't even jump when a shot rang out behind her in the shop.

On the sharp crack of a second shot, however, both she and Beth broke into a run towards the bus.

*

The soldier who had been at the pump was already hurtling past Beth and Geraldine.

Automatic rifle at the ready, his eyes were focused on the shop windows as he tried to see past their glare into the interior.

Solstice appeared at the door, raising a pistol at the approaching soldier.

Solstice had been okay against an unprepared soldier, a soldier taking his eyes off the customers to flick through a magazine he had helped himself to from the top-shelf.

But Solstice was way too slow against a soldier expecting trouble.

This time it was a rifle that cracked, not a pistol.

Solstice's shoulder exploded as the bullet tore through it. The impact picked him up, spun him around, threw him back.

'Foley!' Solstice croaked in agony.

Foley was already in action.

When he had heard the first gunshot, he had cursed Solstice for his stupidity. He had assumed Solstice had tried his usual demand for a share of the till and got himself an army regulation bullet instead for his trouble.

But as soon as he had seen Solstice sprinting out the door, he had waved a hand towards the parked cars.

The petrol in the tanks instantly began to slosh and churn, increasing the pressure till it ignited and burst out as jets of raw flame.

Under Foley's direction, the flames raced through the air, heading for the running soldier.

'No Foley!' Beth screamed.

Huge sections of the nearby car wash abruptly shattered and splintered. A tidal wave arched towards the plumes of fire, deflecting them long enough for another wash of dirty water to rush against the soldier.

The waves bowled him across the forecourt, but carried him to safety.

Irritation flashed across Foley's face. Almost instantaneously, however, it was replaced by a satisfied grin.

'Everybody aboard the Magic Bus!'

He darted off towards Solstice who – with a series of anguished shrieks – was slowly rising to his feet, clutching his shattered shoulder.

Geraldine hurriedly clambered up the bus steps, no longer caring about the packets of biscuits and bottles of wine that now fell from her inner pockets. They hit the ground with a crunch and a splintering of glass.

As Beth swiftly followed her, she turned towards where she had last seen the attendant, intending to warn him that the fire might spread to the pumps. But he needed no warning; he had already taken to his heels, stopping only to help drag the drenched and concussed soldier with him.

Small, gaily flickering flames were already spreading across the forecourt, growing like beautiful, bright red flowers everywhere around the pumps.

Beth glanced back towards the shop.

Foley was helping support the groaning, badly injured Solstice to run as fast as he could.

'Come on, hurry up!' Geraldine screamed, forcing her bulk into the small driving cabin and getting behind the wheel.

Beth reached out past the bus doors to grab hold of Solstice. She helped pull him aboard as Foley leapt up onto the first step.

Immediately, Geraldine slammed the bus into gear, accelerating away from the pumps as fast as she could make the old bus go.

Foley swung the doors closed.

Beth let Solstice lean against her until he slumped down on the nearest seat.

Foal barked excitedly, leaping at the pen's sides.

Then the first pump exploded.

The bus rocked, even as Geraldine skilfully threw it into a tyre-squealing turn.

Beth felt the blast of wind strike the windows, heard the glass rattle and shake like it was going to implode.

The heat was incredible, her skin tingling as if she had suffered instantaneous sunburn.

It was like driving through hell, the only view on one whole side of the bus being a solid wall of flames.

Another pump erupted, enveloping them in another blast of heat. It gave the poor old Magic Bus another violent shaking.

Sweating heavily, Geraldine fought the wheel, crying out, 'Come on old girl, you can do it!'

Bringing it all back under control, Geraldine spun 'my beautiful, precious girl' out towards the garage's exit.

There was a further eruption, quickly followed by yet another.

But now the blasts of heat were only striking the rear window.

Foley looked back at the vast wall of fire they were leaving safely behind them.

He turned to Beth.

'You know, we could have handled all that. Played with it even.'

Beth didn't know what to say.

Foley stepped closer towards her until he was staring directly into her eyes.

Beth shivered.

Once again, it felt as if he were looking beyond the surface and slipping inside.

Dipping down deeper and deeper.

Exploring every part of her.

'Now why would you want to go and do that with the water, Annie?'

_Yes, why_ would _we want to do that?_

Her inner voice sounded far more annoyed than Foley.

He was surprisingly calm, particularly as he seemed to have assumed Beth was somehow responsible for the waves of water that had doused his flames.

'Annie?' Beth said fearfully.

She feared the reply. Feared that she already knew the answer; she wasn't who she thought she was. There was someone, or something, lying deep inside her.

'Shusssh, I'm not talking to you little girl!' Foley hissed, his eyes seeming to probe deeper still within her. 'I can see you're waking up, dear Annie.'

He suddenly pulled back, frowning in puzzlement.

'But there are some things about you I just can't figure out.'

*

# Chapter 31

Had she really done that?

That amazing trick with the water?

Was it connected with the way that burst water pipe had originally saved her from the firemen and their hoses full of flame?

And the water that had weakened the wall that had crushed Miss Hilary?

Surely, no!

She wasn't responsible for _that_!

It was coincidence, yes?

Coincidences were two a penny these days, weren't they?

Hadn't all the rules of chance being altered? Wasn't that what all the papers, the TV news, had been saying for ages?

And if she really could control water like that, why the heck hadn't she used it to put out the fire at home?

She could have saved her mum!

_Easily! If you thought it was_ really _so important._

*

'How is he? Bad?'

Geraldine glanced over her shoulder, yelled back towards Beth.

Beth hadn't really been looking at Solstice. She had been too self-absorbed.

Now that she looked at Solstice, she could see that he was in shock, shivering and whiter than paper.

His eyes bulged, his lips quivered.

What was left of his shoulder was a mess of – what _was_ it a mess of?

She knelt closer to him, where she could get a better view of his wound.

His jacket had been worn and threadbare to start with, but now the gunshot blast had weakened the shoulder area even further. It was relatively easy for her to carefully tear it some more and make the hole bigger.

She had expected the wound to be a chaos of torn flesh, blood and muscle tissue.

But no; it was a mess all right, but what looked more like a tangle of spilt, then abruptly hardened, fluids.

It made her think of the mingled wax of an old wine bottle used as a candleholder.

Fortunately, it didn't appear to be bleeding.

'Anyone listening to me back there?' Geraldine persisted.

'He's pretty bad. What sort of bullets are our army using these days? His shoulder looks like it's been melted!'

Foley looked over, took a peek, pouted as if it were nothing unusual, perhaps even to be expected.

He stared quizzically at Beth, perhaps wondering what she found so odd about it all.

'Do you reckon those soldiers got off any warning?' Geraldine continued to yell back from the driving cab. 'To their mates, I mean?'

'Don't think so,' Foley replied. 'I think we'll be okay. Everyone will just think it was some idiot smoking by the pumps that caused all those explosions. Specially as it's all being cranked up by hand. Accidents happen, don't they? Specially when you're doing stupid things like cranking up petrol?'

'Good; cos there's an awful lot of their mates around.'

Beth and Foley peered out of the windows.

Army trucks and armoured cars were zooming past on the road. Some stopped outside shops or superstores, unloading troops.

The soldiers swiftly took up positions on the streets, or charged inside.

'What's going on out there?' Geraldine hollered. 'Martial law?'

Foley turned to Beth, his face lighting up with an elated grin.

'I reckon that's it Annie! I reckon martial law's been declared! Everything's come to a halt! All your deliveries, your farming, your drilling up the oil, your shipping it! Everything's been rationed!'

For the first time, he noticed the stolen shopping that had scattered across the floor as Geraldine had hurriedly fought her way to the wheel.

Without bothering to turn his head, Foley shouted up to the driving cab.

'You need anything to eat Gerry?'

'Not hungry,' she cried back, sounding not a little surprised by this realisation.

'Me neither,' Foley said, adding, with a smile at Beth, 'And you?'

Beth shook her head. She wasn't hungry.

Even though the last thing she had eaten was her breakfast.

Alongside them, Solstice groaned.

'I'm burning, burning everywhere.'

The patterns made by the apparently hardened fluids had changed, creating an even more gruesome melange of red, pink and white.

If the bullet was still in there, Beth realised, it could cause even more complications.

She hoped it had passed completely through him. It was impossible, however, to see if there had ever been a hole running completely through his shoulder.

'You're not burning, you just feel like you are,' Foley cruelly snickered, adding with a shout, 'Hey Gerry; you pinch any painkillers while you were in that shop?'

'Ah ah,' Geraldine yelled back, shaking her head.

'Ah well, they wouldn't have done you much good anyway Solly, my old mate.'

Solstice, his skin tautly pulled across his skull, clenched hard on Foley's jacket.

'It feels like my whole body's tearing apart!'

'It probably is, Solly, it probably is. We'll be back soon. Get some sleep.'

Quickly rising to his feet, Foley punched Solstice hard across his chin, knocking him out.

'Save him suffering too much, eh?'

He smiled, ignoring Beth's reproachful frown.

*

'Don't give me that look, Annie!' Foley snapped almost playfully at Beth. 'You could save him, but I don't see you rushing to help. You know what's inside him is more use to us than he could ever be.'

'Me? Save him? How could I do that? And what do you mean, what's inside him? Are you saying he's got something inside him too? Have we all – including Gerry?'

Her eyes flickered towards Geraldine. What could be lying inside that vast bulk?

'Course not!' Foley chuckled. 'And of those of us that have,' he said, closely observing Solstice's trembling, anguished features, 'some are far less fortunate than others. And you made a mistake, didn't you Solly mate? Getting yourself injured after Annie's calendar had called time on everything!'

'Can't you explain anything to me?' Beth snapped in frustration. 'You just talk in riddles. How's it my calendar? How's it affect Solly's injury?'

Foley shook his head sadly.

'Ah, but you see, you should know all these answers for yourself, Annie dear. That's what _I_ don't understand about all this. You're getting some things right, yeah – like the riddle _you_ created, right, as well as the calendar. But then, other times, you act like it's all nothing to do with you!'

'I didn't create the riddle and the calendar! I just found them! They were already there, Foley!'

Foley grinned, like she had just proved the very point he was trying to make.

'See what I mean? It's the riddle that woke me up, Annie. That's waking everyone up. Letting everyone recognise who they really are. And the calendar; that says, yeah, the time is finally right. Though, of course, as soon as I realised I was here – inside a man rather than a woman – I knew it was finally the end game.'

'A man? The end game?'

'You _really_ don't know?'

Foley appeared genuinely surprised. He shook his head in amazement.

He reached out, placed a hand on each side of Beth's head. He drew her closer to him until they were face to face.

'Annie, our time has finally arrived! The war's about to start all over again!'

'War?'

Foley guffawed excitedly.

'The war the idiots call the war between good and evil – which really depends on which side you're on, doesn't it? And this time, Annie, we'll win!'

*

# Chapter 32

Naturally, in Beth's dreams that night, she was surrounded by roaring flames.

Her poor mum!

How could she possibly see her again?

The only thing she had managed to save was the sword.

The only thing connecting her to her life with her mum was a fake Excalibur!

Everything in the old trunk, full of the writings and thoughts from countless past generations of her family, had all been lost to the fire.

She had only just discovered it all too.

Only to lose it all the very next day!

Wait! Hadn't there been an odd piece of poetry or something, appearing time and time again?

About Merlin bringing an end to a war with demons and sprites?

Could that be what Foley meant?

Didn't he say the war between good and evil was starting all over again?

Yes! Merlin had trapped both 'good and bad'.

(Was that it? She couldn't quite remember it exactly!)

For 'over a thousand years'. And over a thousand years had passed, easily, since those lines had been written.

He had trapped them in – what was it – a most enduring substance?

Rock? Diamond?

No! Of course!

What could be more enduring than generation after generation of humans?

Merlin had trapped the magical beings – or spirits, or whatever they were – inside _man_!

*

That's why she could hear the voices! Why she could feel something odd inside her!

Why Foley was changing, too! Why he had those magical powers!

And why Kate had those powers!

All because Merlin had chosen man to trap the warring spirits inside!

No!

Inside _women_.

Because only women, surely, could pass on the magical spirit to their baby?

And that's why her mum had felt such a sense of loss when Beth had been born!

That's what Foley had meant, too, when he had said he knew the 'end game' was near. Because his spirit had found himself trapped inside a man!

And a man can't pass on the magical spirit!

She was suddenly elated.

It made sense of so much that had been happening to her!

But – her elation abruptly died.

If she _had_ got a magical spirit inside her, what sort was it?

Good?

Or bad?

*

When they had arrived back at the old farmhouse serving as their squat, everyone had been asleep.

Foley had wanted to wake them. To kick them awake as he usually did, telling them to make him some food.

But no one had been hungry. They had just been tired, and weren't in the mood for talking.

So they had made their way to the corners or sections of wall that they had transformed, as best as they could, into their own individual space.

Beth's old mattress and quilt were still where she had left them just a few days earlier. It was like everyone had been expecting her back.

At Foley's insistence, they had left Solstice on the bus.

'If you don't want to wake anyone up, you can hardly bring that squealing pig in!'

Solstice had been getting worse as they had travelled. He had shrieked in a mix of agony and curses whenever they had tried to move him.

So Beth and Gerry had wrapped him up as tightly and warmly as they could in the blankets taken from the Magic Bus's own stores.

They had also changed the dressing and poultice of herbs that Beth had earlier wrapped around the wound, again using the supplies carried on the bus.

If he's worse in the morning, Gerry and Beth had agreed, we're taking him to the hospital. No matter how much Foley says it's something we should be able to handle ourselves.

In the morning, however, when Beth checked on Solly, she found him soundly asleep.

She would leave him a while longer, she decided, rather than disturbing him.

He needed the sleep. It would help him begin to recover.

She had woken up earlier than anyone else. Everyone slept late, as no one had a job to go to. But Beth wanted to wash the clothes she had worn while tending Solly.

They were stained with something that might have been blood or might have been sauce. All kinds of food had spilled across the bus floor as Geraldine's stolen shopping had rattled, crashed and smashed against the seat legs.

Beth scooped up Foley's even filthier clothes. He had discarded them across the floor as he had wearily stumbled towards his own corner.

They would have to be scrubbed by hand, as there was still no electricity. But if she didn't wash them, Foley would take a perverse pride in walking around in clothes covered in what could be Solly's blood.

The water was cold. There was no gas for the water heater.

This being a squat, all their regular power supplies depended on an illegal system of pipes and cables they had used to tap into the main system. But no gas was coming through the pipes.

They also had a back up system for whenever they were cut off from the general electricity supply. As the others began to gradually wake up, however, it soon became clear that, no matter how hard they ran the petrol driven generator, it only made the toasters and a heater fizzle and pop worryingly.

There was a good supply of canisters of calor gas, but this could only be used to power an old cooker.

As it happened, however, no one was hungry. Not even Geraldine.

Beth was a bit disappointed that there wasn't more of a celebration over her return, until it dawned on her that she had only been away a few days.

In the crusty community, people would disappear for months and nobody would see anything unusual about it.

Fact was, it would be more unusual if people _didn't_ go walkabout every now and again.

At least Drek seemed happy to see her.

Beth was pleased to see that he had finally got rid of those broken spectacles and replaced them with a much smarter looking pair of dark sunglasses. He bounded towards her as soon as he saw her tidying up her corner.

'So hey, that's why you were so desperate to get inside that old hill, is it?' he said, giving her a tight, playful hug. 'You wanted Excalibur!'

Picking up the sword Beth had placed by the side of her bed, he briefly swung it around. The heavy blade was obviously putting a strain on his wrist, however, for it wavered frighteningly, like he might let it fall at any moment.

'Cool,' he said. 'It feels real! I wasn't expecting it to be so heavy.'

'Yeah, it's really sharp too Drek.'

Beth was warily keeping out of his way as he continued to practise a few sword thrusts and parries.

'So perhaps you could be a little more careful with it, eh?'

She gave a silent sigh of relief as Drek finally set the sword down.

'But how come you ended up with it Beth? How did you get it out of the stone they found it in? Don't tell me you pulled it out! So now you're the King of England, right?'

Beth realised that he was confusing the sword with the one she had discovered under Silbury Hill. As she had noticed herself earlier, they looked surprisingly similar.

'No, it's just a copy. There's probably a few of them that were made. Someone must have bought one, and that gave them the idea for the joke Sword in the Stone.'

'That was a joke? It wasn't real?'

Drek was suddenly crestfallen. He had obviously enjoyed the idea that the real Sword in the Stone had been found.

Since he had first rushed over to her, Beth had sensed there was something different about Drek, but she hadn't been able to work out what it was. Now it suddenly dawned on her.

'You're not coughing! You're taking your medicine again!'

Drek smiled, shook his head.

'I mean, yes, you're right about me no longer coughing. But no, I'm not taking my medicine. Foley sold off this month's prescription weeks ago!'

To make his point that he was fine, he breathed in deeply then let the air out slowly.

This simple exercise would have set him violently coughing and spluttering just a few days ago.

'So, I don't get it,' Beth said happily. 'How come the cough's gone? I thought the doctor had said it's just one of these things you'll just have to live with for the rest of your life?'

Drek shrugged.

'How should I know? Genetic crop mutations, maybe? Got to be some beneficial effects from them, yeah?'

Beth giggled.

'Drek, I don't think your cough disappearing – no matter how miraculous it is, right? – is going to have anything to do with genetic crops!'

'Oh yeah smarty pants? Then how do you explain this?'

He suddenly whipped off his sunglasses.

Beth gawped in astonishment.

Both of Drek's eyes were perfectly normal.

*

# Chapter 33

Drek's eyes sparkled mischievously.

He was relishing the effect this incredible revelation had had on Beth.

'I'd wanted to surprise you with it later,' he chuckled happily. 'Isn't it amazing? Isn't it wonderful?'

'Wonderful?'

Beth shook her head, like she thought she must be dreaming, or finally going crazy.

She leant forward, giving Drek the most incredibly tight hug she could manage.

'It...it's _fantastic_ Drek! I'm so glad for you. It's amazing! Unbelievable!'

'Yeah, so _now_ do you believe me that there must be some genetic mutation thing going on, eh?' he said as they drew apart. 'Cos it's not just me, right? It's a pity you can't see Limpet. But you'll see the old geezers aren't endlessly complaining about their aches and pains any longer.'

'Limpet?' Beth knew she shouldn't laugh, but she couldn't stop giggling as she scoffed, 'You're not telling me he's no longer got a limp!'

'Straight up, Beth! He's taken off, hasn't he? Says he's knows some babes out in Bath. Says he's got a lot of wasted time to make up for!'

'No!'

'Honest. Left the farm at a run. Almost did the hop, skip and jump he did!'

'That's impossible Drek! His leg had almost wasted away! It's been so long since he had used it right!'

'I _saw_ his leg Beth! It was just like his other one – well, not _exactly_ like, as he'd have two left feet, wouldn't he? But you know what I mean!'

Beth scratched her head, wondering how such a thing could be possible.

Wondering, too, if Drek was just winding her up and was going to crack out laughing any moment now.

Then she saw Geraldine pulling in her long flowing skirt about her waist.

Geraldine looked every bit as surprised as Beth was.

Sure, she was still, as Geraldine would like to describe herself, 'heavyset'. But she was nowhere near as 'heavyset' as she had been last night.

'Gerry! Have you lost weight? How did you manage that so quickly?'

Geraldine looked up, her eyes wide with astonishment.

'So you noticed too? I thought I had to be imagining it! How the heck have I lost all this weight over a few days? Sure, I haven't felt even the tiniest bit hungry, but–'

'You should make one of those fitness videos Gerry!'

Solstice had just entered the room. His voice was a harsh, pained grumble.

'Make yourself a million, like Jane Fonda.'

He looked so frail it seemed that he would fall at any moment. He dragged his feet, staggered and stumbled.

He had to support himself on the wall every now and again.

He managed an anguished grin.

'Morning all!' he growled as brightly as he could.

Brightness wasn't usually to be expected of Solstice. He knew he looked terrible.

He was trying to make light of the way he looked, in the hope of somehow fooling everyone, including himself, into thinking everything was really all right, all fine.

But he looked worse than he thought.

Even those with the natural inclination to help support someone who looked so frail and unsteady held back, fearing that what he had might be catching.

'Solly! Good to see you!'

Nobody noticed who spoke. All eyes were on the shambling wreck of a man slowly making his way across the floor.

'What's wrong with him?'

Drek couldn't take his eyes of Solstice. He spoke in a mumbled whisper through the corner of his mouth.

'He never looked great, but now he looks worse than ever!'

Yeah, he is worse than ever, Beth thought.

When she had checked on Solstice earlier she had resisted the urge to pull back the blankets or the dressing.

She hadn't wanted to risk waking him.

Now she could see that the wound had somehow grown, the pattern of hardened, molten flesh expanding way beyond the confines of the dressing.

Beth and Geraldine had torn way what had been left of the right side of his jacket while applying the poultice. Now every inch of revealed skin appeared affected.

Could a wound do that?

Could it grow, increase in size?

Gangrene didn't look like that, did it?

'Solly, my old man!'

As Foley energetically stepped into the room, he had no qualms about eagerly embracing Solstice.

It almost caused the poor man to stumble and crumple to the floor.

Foal bounded along beside her master's heels. She cowed back, however, quietly whimpering, as soon as she caught sight of Solstice.

'So, you're feeling well enough to help us go on the scrounge, right?'

'Yeah, sure I am Foley!'

It sounded like Solstice had to force the words out past a mouthful of bubbling dribble.

'But he's too ill to go out! Just look at him!'

Beth was increasingly worried by Solly's appearance.

Okay, so he had been shot, which would mean that under any normal circumstances he would be in a bad way. A very bad way too, perhaps.

But what was all this with the way his shoulder and arm looked like they were melting?

And why was he suffering so much when everyone else around here had made truly miraculous recoveries?

Most people suddenly seemed to be in better condition than they had ever been in their lives.

Foley glared at Beth.

It was a look that half implied she must be crazy.

As he turned to face Solstice again, Foley grabbed him by the arms, pushing him back so he was at arm's length.

He exaggeratedly moved his head, a theatrical impression of making a close and studied observation.

'What Beth? But ain't Solly always looked like death warmed up, eh?'

He laughed aggressively.

'Ain't that right Solly?'

Beth noticed that Foley had reverted to calling her by her real name rather than Annie in front of everyone else.

Solstice started laughing along with Foley.

'Yeah, that's right Foley! Right as rain I am!'

'We need him out in the fresh air, Beth!'

Foley gave Solstice a slap on the back. It made him stagger as he sought to keep his balance.

'Fresh air, yeah! That's all I need!'

'Right, so come on then!'

Looking about him, Foley took in everyone in the room.

'Dig into your pockets! Let's have a collection for our usual goodies from farmer Hayart.'

With a nudge of his elbow, Foley indicated that he wanted Solstice to cup his hands and collect the money.

With a greedy grin, Solstice happily complied. Under Foley's authoritative glare, everyone began shuffling forward, dropping coins into his clammy palms.

Only one of them dared to hang back.

'I don't need anything,' he said. 'I don't feel hungry anymore.'

'Yeah, none of us are hungry, Barfhead.' Foley frowned angrily at him. 'But you're soon gonna miss having something tasty in your mouth, hungry or not. Believe me! So come on; out with that Social money and–'

His grin faded. His eyes widened in horror.

He was looking up at the washing line Beth had strung across her corner of the room.

'Those are _my_ clothes,' he breathed, desperately trying to hide the tremor in his voice.

He whirled on Beth.

'Tell me you didn't wash them you...you...'

He wasn't so much struggling for the right words as forcibly restraining himself from saying what he wanted to say.

Beth couldn't understand why he was so angry, so strangely frightened.

'But they were covered in what looked like blood and–'

'Covered in blood?'

His face, his whole body, creased up in anguish.

He rushed towards her, raising an arm to strike her.

Yet he held it there, like he was struggling to control himself once again.

'What...what are you playing at?' he snarled. 'Are you trying to get rid of me?'

'I...I...don't know what you mean,' Beth stammered nervously, cowering beneath his furious glare. 'I...I...just washed your clothes!'

Foley clenched his fists. His neck and head twisted as he fought the urge to strike her.

That's when he saw that everyone was watching him.

Saw the shock on every face.

The shock of people who had never seen Foley hang back from striking anyone or anything.

He pulled back, straightened, grinned.

He waved his arms out like it was all a huge joke; nothing to be taken seriously.

He wagged his finger at Beth, the action of a man who appreciated and was laughing good-naturedly at the joke played on him.

'You'd better not go playing any more silly tricks on me, eh girl?'

Beth recognised the menace in his voice. The way his eyes held hers.

But he didn't kick her, the way he usually would.

We're going to have problems with him soon, you know?

*

# Chapter 34

They made their way along paths that either meandered alongside the fields or cut straight through the rows of corn and rape.

Foal recklessly charged ahead of them.

Their progress was slow, as Solstice continually refused any offers of help.

He even staggered back a few steps every now and again.

He often paused, shading his eyes from the sun as if were at its most blinding.

Geraldine was little better. She was already on her third can of strong lager.

Naturally, it had been Foley who had made the final decision on who would make up this little foraging party. Strangely, though, he had also tagged along.

Now he watched Solstice closely, his face creased with impatience.

Beth was amazed at how beautiful everything looked. A beauty that could have fooled you into thinking there was absolutely nothing wrong with the world.

It all seemed so perfect, as if a landscape painter had finally created his masterpiece of an ideal English countryside.

The huge variety of greens and yellows in the trees, hedgerows and crops. The reds of poppies and berries. The shimmering blues of the sky.

Yes, that painter would have had to squeeze out every shade of paint he had.

Yet...yet...there was something about it all that wasn't quite right.

Beth couldn't work out what it was, however, no matter how hard she tried.

*

It wasn't until they passed a bramble full of ripe blackberries and Beth picked and popped one in her mouth – simply for the sensation of tasting something that looked so perfectly delicious, rather than because she was hungry – that it began to dawn on her what was wrong with all this natural beauty.

Should blackberries be out at this time of year?

'Me and Foal, we'll go check on the traps by the warren.'

With a whistle, Foley called Foal back to him. He gave a sharp nod towards the slowly shuffling Solstice.

'Keep an eye on Solly will you Beth? Oh, on Gerry too.'

He grinned as he gave another nod towards the increasingly drunk Geraldine. Then he set off across the fields, heading for a small copse that was home to a large colony of rabbits.

Great, Beth thought, glancing at her charges. It looks like I'm taking a couple of zombies out for their daily stroll.

Still, they were both going the right way, even if they were on autopilot.

So, if there's no one here worth talking to, how about you, 'Annie'?

Are you going to talk to me?

Talk to me properly, I mean?

Not just come out with snide little comments. Then suddenly vanish again.

'So come on, talk to me! Or are you just too scared to let me know _what_ you are?'

I resent being called a 'what'. Please show some consideration when you're talking to me girl!

'Ah, so there you are! As you seem to be a part of me, don't you think I'm the one who deserves "some consideration"?'

If you were a prisoner, how much consideration would you give your prison cell?

'Way I see it, I've got a _something_ inside me I wish wasn't there!'

And you think I wanted to be here? Huh!

There was a pause, like they had both gone into a sulk.

Like they would have turned their backs on each other, if they could.

'So, okay,' Beth said, 'I didn't have a choice in this, and you didn't either. So let's try and work something out between us that works for us both, yeah?'

There was no answer.

'You haven't gone away again have you?' Beth asked irately. 'Annie?'

Well if we're going to have to get on, you can drop this "Annie"!

'That's what Foley called you. Well, I figured it was you he was talking to anyway.'

Yes, it was me. But it was...well, derogatory. We both know what this Foley character is like, right? My real name's Lynese.

'Lynese? So where's Foley get "Annie" from that?'

Beth was still suspicious.

Didn't we just agree he's an odd sort of character? What was it your friends called you? Bedlam, right? Bedlam from Bethlehem.

'There's a connection! An historical connection!'

I'm sure your friends would just love to hear you saying that!

'I thought we'd agreed to try and get on?'

_That's right; but then you started up with the interrogation! Asking me to try and fathom a warped mind like Foley's! Perhaps it's because I had an island named after me – Lyonessee. I suppose there's an 'Anne' in there somewhere if you insist on pronouncing it a certain way_.

'I never heard of any island called Lyonessee.'

There you go being all doubtful again, see? So, just because you never heard of anything, it means it never existed, right? If you must know, it was off the Cornish coast. But it vanished beneath the sea. You know, like Atlantis.

'That's pretty convenient for your story; an island that no longer exists. And Atlantis never existed too – it's just a legend.'

Full of doubts and suspicions aren't you? Usually, you know, legends are just a poor memory of something that happened so long ago no one knows the true story anymore.

'I think I'm taking all this pretty well considering I've suddenly found out there's somebody else living inside me!'

Believe me girl, it isn't 'living' in here!

Beth breathed in deeply, telling herself to try and act just a little calmer, just a little bit nicer to Lynese.

'Look, I realise it can't be wonderful for you, waking up and finding you're trapped inside me, right? But it isn't exactly wonderful for me either, savvy? You can thank all my great-great-grans and great-great-great-grans that I'm not going completely mental about all this. Obviously, they always knew they were a bit odd, and must've sort of prepared me for it.'

You ask me, people like this Foley seem to be handling it all a whole lot better than you. He seems to accept that he can get along quite nicely with whatever's inside him. And for their mutual benefit too. You, you're fighting it all the time. You're a bit scared of me Beth; admit it.

'Okay, yeah,' Beth agreed grudgingly. 'Merlin had a bit of a cheek, shelving the problems he had for people like me to deal with in the future.'

_Ah yes, Merlin_. She chuckled.

'What's so funny?' Beth couldn't hold back the irritation in her voice.

_What did I just say about legends being nothing more than a poor recollection of what had actually happened? It all happened thousands of years before this Merlin was supposed to have existed. How he came to get all the credit, I just don't know. Then again, who would want the credit? There we all were, minding are own business – well, apart from the matter of that tiresome war – when along comes somebody – and no, before you ask, I don't know whom – and suddenly,_ wham! _I take it everyone felt much as I did; that I was quickly draining away into nothing. It felt as if I were ceasing to exist, forever. And we're all imprisoned; both good and bad. I mean, it's hardly a military masterstroke, is it?_

Beth cringed. She still hadn't resolved whether Lynese was good or bad.

Or, for that matter, whether Lynese could read her thoughts when she was trying to figure things like this out.

'So, okay, Lynese; what type of spirit are you?'

Well, I would have thought that was pretty obvious even to you by now. You know, all those water spouts that came to your rescue? Remember them?

'Water? You can control water?'

Hey, a silver trophy to the girl with the funny hairstyle please! And, by the way, I prefer to be called a fay – that's a fairy to you – rather than spirit, thank you very much. So yes, I'm a water fay – though with nowhere near the powers I used to have, I'm afraid.

Beth suddenly froze.

She couldn't help but remember the wall that had killed Miss Hilary. The wall that had been weakened by water.

What's wrong dear? I can sense that you're upset about something. But – it's so frustrating! I can't access your thoughts like I would have expected.

'The wall! I killed Miss Hilary? Why, why did I – _we_ – kill her?'

Oh dear, there's that accusatory tone again! You really must stop being so suspicious, dear! It was that little minx friend of yours, Kate; well, that obnoxious little sprite that's inside her anyway. Obviously quite a precocious little thing. Some of us are so much more aware of what's going on around us than others are!

Beth sighed with relief. She didn't want to be responsible for Miss Hilary's death.

'But why kill her? She wasn't doing any harm to any one.'

She probably didn't want someone as intelligent and questioning as your poor little Miss Hilary going off and blabbing and making a big deal about something that was still just getting underway. That little stinker Donna shouldn't have been using things like those symbols; things she didn't understand. Not everyone was in a rush to show themselves.

'You can say that again. It's amazing how hard it is to find you, considering you're right here in my own body somewhere!'

Yes, and that's the way I'd like to keep it. See, it's a very dangerous place out there for some of us, Beth dear. For the weaker ones among us, especially. We're easy pickings aren't we, while we're still getting used to our powers again? And some of us are taking longer than others.

'Is...is that why my mum was killed? They we're trying to get me – us – while your powers were weak?'

Yes, I'm sorry about that dear, really sorry. But yes, that's what I mean when I say we should keep our heads down. It's not just those with fays and demons inside them that we've got to avoid; various groups of humans have been expecting this for years. They've already taken sides. Given a bit of magical help, they can be quite formidable too. As we unfortunately saw with those firemen, who set fire to your poor mum's house.

'They...they were just ordinary men?'

Yes, but aided by somebody with extra powers.

The boy!

Beth had seen the boy, Galilee Green, at the fire!

And she had already seen that he was capable of magic.

'About my mum, Lynese – you said I'd see her again.'

Yes, of course you will girl! But before we go into that – that boy over there, by the combined harvester? Isn't he the boy that was at the fire?

*

# Chapter 35

Beth spun around.

A combine-harvester had come to a halt, the tracks left behind it a dull, bristling brown against the swaying golden waves of the rest of the field.

A solidly built man was partially hanging out of the driver's cab, waving angrily at a boy standing in his way.

It was hard to tell at such a distance, but yes, the boy could well be Galilee Green.

Even though the drink was now making her unsteady on her feet, Geraldine noticed that Beth was staring uncertainly at the strange commotion taking place by the halted harvester.

'What's wrong, me dearie?'

'I think that boy might have been there when my mum was killed,' Beth answered.

Geraldine screwed her eyes, attempting to focus through a haze of drink.

Other men, who had been hidden by the harvester's vast bulk, were now aggressively pushing the boy out of the way.

'Hmn, you could be imagining it. He's a long way away. At that distance, a boy's a boy.'

'Suppose so,' Beth agreed unsurely, now staring every bit as hard as Geraldine at the boy.

She tried to pick out the detail that would confirm it was Galilee Green.

At that moment, the boy looked up from talking with the men.

His eyes locked with Beth's.

Startled, he moved quickly, ducking behind the surrounding men like he was trying to hide from her.

Too late.

She knew for sure now that it was him.

The boy who had helped those firemen kill her mum!

*

For a moment, Beth wasn't sure what to do.

She wanted to march over to the boy, accuse him of murder. Tell him she was going to fetch the police.

But another part of her (Was it Lynese? Beth didn't think so) was already struggling with this idea, reminding her that he was dangerous.

He had magical abilities, stronger than the fledgling powers she had managed to accidentally use.

And it wasn't her mum that he had meant to kill.

It was her.

*

'Gerry, let's go this way today.'

With a touch and pull of her hand, Beth guided the unsteadily shuffling Solly towards a gate opening on to the other side of the hedgerow.

It took them to a path that branched out into three possible directions.

It also took them out of sight of the boy.

If he continued to argue with the farm hands, with luck he wouldn't be able to follow them until it was too late for him to see which path they had taken.

*

They made their way to the farm without seeing anything more of the boy.

But the farm itself was far from reassuring.

An armoured car was parked outside. A handful of soldiers were lazily lounging against it.

The soldiers smiled, grinned, winked. They swapped quiet jokes, both jealous and scornful of the stumbling, obviously drunken crusties.

Beth helped Gerry and Solly to sit down against the porch.

She knocked on the door.

The door was answered by the farmer's daughter, Heddy.

'Beth!'

As always, Heddy was glad to see Beth. She looked up to Beth, envying her freedom and individuality.

'Come for the usual stuff? You really feeling hungry?'

'Ah ah.' Beth smiled, shook her head. 'But, you know, surely we can't go without food _forever_.'

She could smell coffee bubbling on the stove. She might not feel thirsty but, as Foley had predicted, she missed the taste of something in her mouth.

Perhaps that's why Gerry continued to drink her lager? Or did she just like drifting through life in a permanent haze?

As Heddy invited her in, Beth realised that there was something different about her.

She was taller, wasn't she?

And didn't she look slightly older than – how old was she? Eleven?

The heavy spectacles had also disappeared. Had her eyesight improved, the way Drek's had?

'It's Beth, dad,' Heddy said, making her way to a kitchen table covered with schoolbooks, most of them open.

'Can't say I was expecting you just yet!'

Beth's dad, farmer Hayart, grinned amiably.

'Oddest thing I've ever seen, this thing where no one's feeling hungry. Oh, this, by the way, is Police Commissioner Frobisher.'

A pristinely and darkly uniformed man stood towards the back of the room, admiring a large watercolour of the local hunt of over a hundred years ago.

He spun around smartly, nodding a pleasant if wary greeting.

Unusually for a police officer, he had a gun, its holster and belt strapped smartly around his waist.

'Sorry Beth, darling,' farmer Hayart continued, 'but I'm afraid I can't let you have anything just yet.'

Unlike the vast majority of other farms in the area, he didn't mind that the crusties had set up their community on the edges of his land. In recognition of his good will towards them, Foley had decreed that nothing should be stolen from him; everything would be paid for, particularly as he only ever charged the same ridiculously low price the big supermarket chains had forced out of him.

With a turn of his head, he indicated the Police Commissioner once again.

'They're requisitioning everything from all the local farms.'

'Everything? But–'

'Yes, _everything_ I'm afraid.' The Police Commissioner coolly interrupted Beth. 'Just until things improve, you understand? Which won't be long, won't be long at all.'

His attention returned to the Edwardian painting.

'But how are we supposed to–'

'Now now young girl.'

Police Commissioner Frobisher whipped around, retaining a pained smile on his face even though he was obviously irritated.

'I'm sure you realise you're not feeling any pangs of hunger now, are you? And I assure you this lack of any need for food will continue long into the near future.'

How would he know that?

Beth was about to ask him, but only managed to blurt out the 'How' before he rudely interrupted her yet again.

'Didn't I just explain it's only until things improve? All our supply problems are already being sorted out. It will all soon be back to normal.'

'But I don't think they will, officer.'

Heddy looked up from her homework, habitually raising a hand to adjust spectacles that were no longer there.

'What?' Police Commissioner Frobisher's face reddened with fury.

'I don't think what you call your supply problems will ever be back to normal.' Heddy rose from her chair. 'And I think you know they won't.'

'Little girl, I assure you–'

'See, all these electrical things that are no longer working, all these computers we've come to rely on for just about everything, and that're now completely useless, throwing everything into confusion – well, I think it's all connected with that riddle. The one I'd heard you'd found, Beth.'

Beth was astonished by Heddy's confident poise. The gawky, shy schoolgirl of a few days ago had completely vanished.

'Riddle? Really, this is completely ridiculous–'

'Go on Heddy.'

Heddy's father gave the sneering Frobisher a warning frown.

Years of hard graft on the farm had granted him a formidable bulk, the rolled up sleeves of his shirt revealing thick, powerful arms.

Beth noted that the long, twisted weal that had run down his right arm ('Ahh, that was the young, stupid me, Beth; before I'd got the sense to treat farm machinery with respect!') had vanished.

'Our Heddy's top of her class in just about every subject going at her school. So I for one, Mr Frobisher, would like to hear what she has to say on all these here weird going ons!'

The Police Commissioner glowered. His lips tightened menacingly as Heddy indicated the mass of books she had gathered together on the table.

'As school's still shut, that's what I've been working on – just for a bit of fun, you know?'

She smiled happily, like this was everybody's idea of a good time.

'The riddle referred to Pi, and how it was going to disappear, yes? Now, if it did, that would lead to the disruption of the wavelengths of electrical signals–'

'Oh, this is ridiculous!' Frobisher scoffed furiously. 'You're saying this girl is top of her class, when she's not even aware that Pi is a constant and so can't be–'

A glare from Heddy's father silenced his rant.

'I know it sounds impossible,' Heddy admitted. 'But we've already seen the laws of chance change, and the laws of aerodynamics, and other physical laws too, right? That's all supposed to be impossible as well, yes? So if they can change, why not constants – well, what we always _thought_ were constants – like Pi?'

'All we're suffering is an extended power cut – one we couldn't have accounted for – that's had a knock on effect regarding our supply systems–'

'Power cut?' Heddy's father exclaimed incredulously.

His entire, thickset frame tensed with barely controlled anger as he pointed first this way then that.

'So how does a power cut explain crops out there ready for harvesting way ahead of their season? How does your power cut explain the tales I've heard of the hospital, and people walking away from it like they've never had a care in the world? How do _I_ explain to my poor cows, sows and mares what happened to their foals and calves that never came?'

'There are some unusual happenings, caused by extreme weather events and electrical storms, I'll give you that.'

Frobisher had managed to regain his confidence as Heddy's father had given vent to his frustration and confusion.

'But what I can't accept is this nonsense that it all somehow points to universal laws simply vanishing! A constant like Pi can't simply vanish! If that's the case, why is it that we don't see it affecting, say, the wheels of your tractor, eh farmer Hayart?'

The farmer narrowed his eyes. He turned to his daughter.

'Heddy?' He said it like he was expecting her to know the answer.

'Remember how, when all those other planes were just about falling out of the sky, that military jet kept flying?'

Heddy once again raised a hand to adjust non-existent spectacles, like she still hadn't got used to being without them.

'It had computers that continually readjusted and compensated for all the fluctuations that were now taking place in the laws of aerodynamics, right? Those computers are also useless now, of course, so I suspect even that jet can't fly anymore. But things like dragonflies, birds, insects; they're all continuing to fly. Why? Because they're all instinctively compensating for all the changes that are taking place, without having to even think about it. We're the same of course–'

'We're hardly talking tractor's wheels here, Miss Hayart.'

The sneering Frobisher glanced at Beth and farmer Hayart in the hope that they agreed with him.

Heddy's father glared back at him in disapproval.

Heddy turned back to the table, picking up one of the notebooks she had been writing in.

'But when it comes to machines, something _similar_ is happening. A lot of minute fluctuations are all taking place at once, compensating for or cancelling each other out. Sure, you might never have a true circle anymore, as it's continually changing; but as everything else is changing with it, it's effectively imperceptible. That's why everything still seems so normal even though we no longer have any laws of physics, or even a law of gravity – there are _some_ constraints. It's just not as _precise_ as it all was before.'

_Clever girl_! Inside Beth, Lynese chuckled.

'No gravity?' Frobisher sniggered. 'So what's keeping the planets revolving, eh, you stupid girl?'

But before Heddy could answer, a harsh, commanding voice rang out from just outside the front door.

'Stop right there stupid!'

*

# Chapter 36

Beth was first outside the door.

But Farmer Hayart was only just behind her, with Frobisher and then Heddy directly following him out.

One of the soldiers had his hand raised. It was a warning to the incoherently mumbling Solly that he had stepped close enough towards the armoured car.

Beth immediately took in that Gerry hadn't been prevented from approaching the soldiers. She was lazing drunkenly against the vehicle's side, a can of lager in her hand.

One of the soldiers quickly hid a can behind his back. Gerry had obviously shared out some of the cans from the six-pack she had brought along.

But Beth could see why the soldiers had felt nervous about Solly approaching them.

Although he was standing once again, and managing a staggered, painful walk, he was now almost zombie like in his pallor and tautly drawn skin.

His eyes popped frighteningly. The angled features of his skull were clearly visible.

The soldiers weren't pointing their guns at him, but they had them nervously at the ready.

'Sergeant? What's going on here?'

Frobisher had instantaneously regained his authority.

The soldier with the raised hand fleetingly glanced Frobisher's way.

'Sorry sir.'

His wary gaze focused once again on the swaying, quivering mess that was Solly.

'It's just that – well, look at him sir. What's he on? He looks drugged up to his eyeballs, you ask me.'

'What with what we've heard about the riots in town, sir,' said another soldier, 'we can't be too careful.'

Even though he was sitting inside the armoured car's small, open gun turret, he seemed strangely unnerved by Solly.

Beth found herself swapping questioning glances with Heddy.

'Riots?' Heddy asked curiously.

'There aren't any lights, water; they've got problems with sewage–'

'That's enough soldier!' Frobisher hissed.

Seeing the sergeant nervously readjusting his gun, Beth decided that she had better get Solly away from them as quickly as possible.

'We have to get back now anyway.'

She moved cautiously towards Solly.

For one thing, the soldiers were already ridiculously jumpy, and she didn't want to unnerve them anymore than she had to.

But for another, she herself was nervous of approaching Solly. He looked worse than ever, like he had just popped up from the nearest grave for a quiet stroll.

Up close, his eyes seemed dead, the only sparkle coming from an almost opaque glaze. The skin on his face and arms appeared hard and brittle, like it was ready to split like a cracked nut.

My God! What's happening to him?

'Sorry, sorry.'

Beth spoke as reassuringly as she could to the uneasy, wary soldiers.

She glared at Gerry, who was now so drunk she observed everything taking place around her as if it were nothing more than an interesting play.

'Gerry, give me a hand would you?'

Spurred into action at last by Beth's harsh tone, Gerry stumbled forward to help her support the trembling, wobbling Solly.

'He's come down with something, that's all,' Beth added unconvincingly.

'Sure, we all look like that when we've got a bit of flu.'

The sergeant's quip was rewarded with a burst of relieved laughter from his men. They all relaxed, lowering their guns into more comfortable positions.

Even though they were obviously having trouble supporting Solly, no one offered to help Beth and Gerry.

The threesome made their way as quickly as possible across the farmyard towards the gate.

'Take care Beth!' Heddy cried out.

*

As soon as she believed they were out of hearing, Beth whirled on Gerry.

'What's this about riots in town?' she asked in an urgent whisper. 'What's it got to do with the way they seemed scared of Solly?'

To help Beth support Solly, Gerry had had to leave behind what remained of her cans of lager. Beth was thankful for this, as Gerry answered her in a faltering mumble that could only have got worse if she had continued drinking.

'Well, me dearie, Foley was right wasn't he? When he said we'd all like the pleasure of tasting something, even if we aren't hungry or thirsty? There's water at the farm; it's got a well. But those soldiers, well, I can tell you they really appreciated those cans I gave them.'

Hearing the harsh, guttural choking of a car engine starting up, Gerry and Beth glanced back towards the farmyard.

Two soldiers had clambered onto the back of the armoured car. It was now unhurriedly making its way up a track running off at a slight angle to theirs.

'Loosened their lips a bit it did too; said they're glad they're out here, rather than being roped in trying to get supplies running again. Seems they're dragging out steam tractors and horse and carts from the museums. No one's piping up oil, see? Not until they figure out how to do it without computers and all that electrical stuff.'

'That's more or less what Heddy said; that mechanical things can still be made to work, but nothing electrical. But what's that got to do with riots? What's it got to do with Solly?'

'Well, the townies right, just like me and those soldiers back there, they're' missing that sort of nice little thrill you get from just letting something nice pass your lips. So they've stormed the supermarkets, thinking the soldiers wouldn't really shoot.'

Beth glanced at Gerry with wide, horror-stricken eyes.

'They...they can't have _shot_ them! Not...not for just trying to get something to drink!'

Gerry nodded.

'Martial law, Beth. They shot them all right. Or so our soldiers back there heard.'

'But why would that make them so nervous of Solly? Surely they didn't think he was going to start a riot!'

She chuckled at the thought.

'They had kept a wary eye on him since we'd sat down. Seems they'd also heard that a lot of soldiers had been killed. Some of the rioters were, well, just about unstoppable, they said.'

'Unstoppable? How's that possible? You mean they were being shot but...but what? They just kept coming?'

Gerry shrugged, like she knew what she was about to say didn't sound believable.

'That's right, Beth. They said it sounded to them like their mates were fighting zombies or something. It took ages for some of them to die.'

*

# Chapter 37

Beth had noticed that, as Gerry had used the word 'zombies', she had fleetingly looked Solly's way.

He was rolling along like he no longer knew how to use his legs. They seemed to be just moving automatically, with no real thought coming from him about how they should be used to ensure he moved smoothly and quickly.

No one seeing him like this would have thought he was capable of even the most basic level of thought. He stared ahead blankly.

If he started drooling, she figured, she would be high-tailing it across the fields before he even had chance to start chanting 'Brains, brains'.

*

Beth glanced across the fields.

Oh no!

High-tailing it over there really would be out of the frying pan and into the fire, wouldn't it?

Galilee Green was in the midst of the swaying corn. And he was determinedly heading her way.

In a panic, Beth quickly glanced about her, looking for an escape route.

But they were walking alongside a thick, impassable hedgerow of tightly clustered hawthorn and brambles.

She could hear the rhythmic chug of the armoured car's engine somewhere off in the field beyond, yet it sounded too far away to be within calling distance.

The gate they had entered through was now way behind them, the field being far longer than it was wide.

The nearest gate ahead was farther away than Galilee Green was.

He would reach them long before Beth had a chance to reach the gate. Even if she set off running on her own.

'Gerry, it's that boy I told you about,' Beth said, nodding her head in his direction.

Gerry blinked and narrowed her eyes. She drunkenly tried to focus on the boy swiftly closing in on them.

'Hold on to Solly a moment, will you?' Beth asked. 'While I try and frighten him off.'

As she felt Gerry take most of Solly's weight, Beth stepped away and turned towards the oncoming boy.

He was still confidently striding towards them.

She didn't want to face him. But what choice did she have?

She had seen his powers when, ironically, he had rescued her from Kate.

He probably hadn't realised who I was, Beth thought bitterly.

'Stop following me! I warn you!'

He was too far off to hear her.

She raised her arms as if she were about to conjure up a terrifying storm equivalent to the parting of the Red Sea.

Yeah, like that's gonna happen.

I'll be lucky if I manage to cause a mild shower of rain to fall on him.

Sure, she had managed to save the soldier at the garage with a vast plume of water; but she had no idea how she had done it.

It had just _happened_.

She had been as surprised as anybody when the waves had doused the flames.

Lynese; it could only have been Lynese who had made it all happen.

'Lynese? Are you there?

She kept her voice low, so the boy wouldn't hear.

He had ignored her warning, and was still drawing near.

'What's that me dearie?'

Beth spun around. Gerry was eyeing her curiously.

Increasingly unsteady on her feet, Gerry was pulling hard on Solly's arm to stop herself tumbling off to one side.

'No no, sorry Gerry. I wasn't talking to you; I was just talking to myself.'

Solly's legs began to crumple under Gerry's extra weight.

He swayed, stumbled.

Suddenly, both he and Gerry were uncontrollably tottering towards the ditch running alongside the hedgerow. They plunged into the mass of twisted branches and sharp thorns.

Beth didn't have time to worry about them just yet.

She turned back to face the oncoming Galilee Green.

'I need your help Lynese – I need it right now!'

She didn't bother murmuring it to herself this time. She said it loudly and clearly.

There was still no answer.

The boy had burst into an urgent sprint.

Beth whipped around, intending to warn Gerry and Solly to run or hide.

The warning never left her lips.

Gerry had peacefully fallen asleep amongst the nest of branches. But Solly was as shredded and torn as if he had just made his way through a whole field of brambles.

Beth shook her head, forcing herself to admit that she must be imagining things; Solly's skin couldn't really be hanging off in vast chunks like that, could it?

She whirled around again.

The boy was now half way across the field.

Worse, he was raising his hands, twilling them before him.

A whirlwind of air was already rapidly propelling towards her from each palm.

*

# Chapter 38

Beth ducked.

She knew it wouldn't' do her any good, but she couldn't think what else to do.

She shut her eyes tight, her ears tingling, the strands of hair hanging behind them twirling wildly.

The spiralling, whirling blasts of air emanating from the boy's hands rushed by without harming her.

They passed on either side of her rather than striking her head-on as she had feared.

Behind her, there was an agonised growl. A frustrated roar.

Yet again, she found herself spinning around to see what was going on.

*

The squalling blasts of air were ripping up the hawthorns and brambles by their roots.

The gusts tossed and twirled them as effortlessly as leaves caught in a strong breeze.

Amazingly, the still sleeping Gerry was being carefully borne aloft and to one side on a bed of branches. But poor Solly was being completely enveloped by the whirling bushes and their frenziedly whipping branches.

He howled and snarled like a cornered beast.

He lashed out with arms and legs, trying to fight clear of the thorny strands tightening around him.

In his frantic struggle to free himself, great chunks of his flesh seemed to be tearing off.

Poor Solly!

Why is the boy attacking him?

'It's a holak – a demon!'

Beth could hardly hear what the boy was shouting.

'Watch out!'

With a display of colossal strength, Solly finally ripped apart the churning bushes, scattering them like so many harmless twigs.

Like pieces from a butcher's, parts of him fell away with the shredded branches, revealing glimpses of a dark, shadowy core.

What was left of Solly's flesh abruptly cracked apart.

*

With a triumphant roar, the coal-black core unfurled and straightened up.

Growing phenomenally quickly, it threw off what little remained of Solly like a huge bear breaking free of constraining chains.

But although it was the size of a bear, although it had a head that could have been a bear's, it also had the long tail, the powerful claws, and the thick scales of an alligator.

'Run,' Galilee screamed in warning. 'It will attack you! I can't stop it if you're in the way!'

The beast – the holak – fought against the pummelling wind.

Somehow, it forced its colossal bulk through the spiralling, screeching tunnel of air, making its way towards the weaker edge.

It broke free of the whirlwind's hold, jumping to the ground.

It cleverly kept Beth as a barrier between itself and the more powerful boy.

Glowing red eyes fixed on Beth. She didn't know what to do.

Snarling hungrily, the holak bounded swiftly towards her.

*

# Chapter 39

Hew! Come to me!

Momentarily dazzled by a flash of spiralling sliver, Beth jumped as something hard rested against the palm of her right hand.

She gripped it instinctively.

Without even the briefest glance, she instantly knew what it was.

It was the sword. It was Excalibur.

Hugh? Did Lynese just call the sword Hugh?

Move girl, just move!

The onrushing holak was almost upon her.

A thick, powerful arm was already raised, ready to smash down and separate her head from her body.

At the last moment, in a graceful, fluid motion, Beth calmly stepped back and off to one side.

The descending claw cleaved nothing but empty air.

As part of a step forward and a spin, Beth lifted the sword above her head in a two handed grip, whirling the blade like a viciously revolving circular saw.

The blade carved across the holak's chest, finding little resistance.

Even the creature's armoured scales and rib cage sliced open as if by magic.

Howling in a mix of agony and surprise, the holak pulled back.

It swiftly ducked, crouching low to present less of a target. Once again it swung out at Beth, this time with its other arm.

Having spun completely around, Beth was facing the beast once more.

Throwing her whole body into a standing jump, she somersaulted sideways over the powerful arm, letting it swing uselessly beneath her.

Utilising the momentum of the leap, she thrust upwards with the sword as she landed.

She plunged it as deeply as she could into the holak's stomach.

The holak staggered back, the sword's bloodied blade withdrawing from its gut as Beth kept a tight grip on the hilt.

Its roaring groan mingled with the whirring screech of the armoured car.

Careering through the gap created in the hedgerow, the heavy vehicle bounced wildly over the ditch and what was left of the hawthorn.

The holak juddered in time with the rhythmic, harsh rap of machinegun fire.

The beast's eyes blazed with astonishment and fury.

It whirled around, bellowing vengefully. It charged towards the armoured car as it slewed to a halt.

The soldiers on the back of the vehicle fired at the furious beast. Kneeling behind the turret, one soldier rested his gun on its edge, aiming carefully. The other leapt to the ground, slowing moving forward to ensure every bullet stuck home with the maximum damage.

The bullets tore at a fantastic rate into the holak's swiftly shredding chest.

The holak should have fallen. Instead, it hurtled on.

A wounded, bloody arm still possessed more than enough power to lift the nearest soldier high into the air, ripping his flesh deeply with its sharp claws.

The soldier's torn and broken body smashed into the armoured car's side. But the turret's gunner at last had a clear shot of the beast.

The turret's heavy machinegun spat and spat ferociously.

The holak shuddered under the onslaught of heavy, explosive bullets. Suddenly, it burst apart, disintegrating into a mass of bloody parts and finely powdered flesh.

Everyone instinctively ducked, instinctively groaned as they were splattered with gore.

Even Galilee Green, who had at last appeared alongside Beth, moaned in disgust as he received a light spattering.

The soldier crouching on the back of the armoured car had taken the worst of it. He ran the back of his hand across his eyes, wiping them clear.

'What the heck _was_ that?'

'It was a hol–'

'You! Stay where you are!'

Galilee's explanation was cut short as the sergeant threw open the turret's hatch.

The turret's gun was now pointing directly at Beth and Galilee.

'And you young lady. Put that sword down; _now_!'

Beth glanced down at the sword. It felt so light, so much a part of her.

She had forgotten she still held it.

Lynese had called it. And, magically, it had simply flown into her hand.

What would a water fay need a sword for?

And what sort of name was 'Hugh' for a sword anyway?

She let the sword slip to the floor, the blood on the blade splashing across the grass.

*

The holak had bled, had splattered them with blood when it had disintegrated.

Normally, there wouldn't be anything unusual about a creature bleeding.

But Solly hadn't bled.

The injured soldier wasn't bleeding either. The skin revealed through his torn uniform looked like it had partially melted.

The same way Solly's had.

'There's no blood! Perhaps he's all right!'

The wounded soldier's friend was inspecting him. He looked up at the sergeant.

'He's still breathing! We need to get him to hospital, quick!'

'Okay Ed.' The sergeant shouted to someone inside the armoured car. 'Tom, get out here and help Ed put Will on the back.'

With a nod of his head, the sergeant indicated the still slumbering Gerry.

'And you two had better help sleeping beauty onto the back too I suppose,' he said to Beth and Galilee.

*

'Why are you after me?' Beth hissed at Galilee as they turned and made their way towards Gerry.

'After you?' He genuinely sounded surprised. 'I tried to help you! I just haven't got full control over my powers yet.'

It wasn't easy helping Gerry to her feet. She wasn't in complete control of her body. And she was heavy.

'Yeah, like you tried to help me at the fire you mean?'

Beth bit her lip.

How can I just talk about the fire like that, like it's just some small, unimportant event in my life?

How callous, unthinking, can I be? Mum died in that fire!

Do I believe Lynese, do I _want_ to believe her, when she says I'll meet mum again?

'I sensed magic was being used.' Galilee said.

He groaned, taking most of Gerry's weight as they began to stumble across the uneven ground.

'When I was there, I immediately sensed a threatening magical presence.'

'Foley? You mean Foley?'

'That the guy controlling the fire?'

His eyes sparkled with curiosity. He pouted as if he was considering this new information, as if it was all beginning to make sense.

'Yeah,' Beth said. 'Foley has always been, well – not exactly in control of his temper, if you know what I mean?'

'It made you easy to follow. Good job I did too, eh?'

'What _was_ that...that _thing_?'

Beth continued to keep her voice low so the soldiers wouldn't hear her.

'You said it was a _demon_?'

'Well, it was the best word I could think of to warn you that you were in danger.'

Slowly and painfully, they made their way back to the armoured car. From the soldiers' agitated conversation, Beth picked up that they had rushed over after seeing the 'weird storm' uprooting the hedgerow.

They treated their wounded friend with incredible care as they laid him on the back of the armoured car.

'So that's what we're like inside? These creatures inside us are like that...that demon?'

'No, no,' Galilee replied to Beth's question. 'We're the, well, the lucky ones.'

'Lucky? Having someone, _something_ inside you, is _lucky_?'

'Yeah, considering some poor guys – and women – have creatures like holaks and frags inside. All just itching to get out.'

Ahead of them, the blood splattered solider picked up the sword.

'It's too heavy. Poor balance too, sarge. A fake!' he shouted back towards the armoured car.

'Toss it away then!'

With a casual flip of his wrist, the soldier threw the sword aside. It landed with a dull splat in the mud churned up by the armoured car.

'There are more of them?' Beth was horrified by Galilee's nonchalant comment. 'More demons?'

'More than enough to cause us real problems. But they're not in everyone, thank goodness. We'd be in real trouble if they were.'

As they helped a dazed Gerry to unsteadily climb onto the back of the armoured car, Beth took a look at the badly injured solider.

As she had thought she had spotted earlier, his damaged skin was just as Solly's had been.

It wasn't real flesh any more, but a tangled mess of what could have been solidified fluids.

Beth swapped anxious glances with Galilee.

'So he's not...?'

Galilee saw she was terrified that the soldier might crack open to reveal a demon, just like Solly. He shook his head.

'It's not likely.'

The soldier groaned and shifted painfully.

'You're sure he...?'

Galilee shook his head once again.

'I said it wasn't likely. I didn't say I was sure.'

*

# Chapter 40

'We need to get away!' Galilee whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

'Why? They're not harming us. And I feel safer with them around anyway.'

Beth glanced back, giving the soldier following on foot behind a pleasant smile.

He grinned.

But the sergeant, perched in the turret of the armoured car trundling along in the rear, gave her a warning grimace.

'They're working for the authorities; and most people in authority were corrupted long ago, Beth.'

Beth had told Galilee her name as their small column had set off towards the farm.

She had also asked him if his family, like hers, had used biblical and religious names to ward off the sense that they were possessed.

Yes, he had answered: perhaps some families were more sensitive to the presence of these magical spirits than others; perhaps they just felt there was something about themselves that wasn't quite right.

Some of the spirits had probably experienced brief periods of awareness too. Waking up in a body they knew wasn't their own, couldn't control, and in a bewilderingly different time.

It would all add to a sense of confusion.

Recognising the sergeant's displeasure, Beth turned back to Galilee.

'All our politicians, our judges,' Galilee continued, 'our higher-ranking police, our town councillors – none of them can be trusted.'

As he said the words 'higher-ranking police', Beth thought of Frobisher.

Yes, he looked sneaky, acted arrogantly. But did that mean no other Police Commissioner could be trusted?

No! Surely things couldn't be that bad?

'Can't you just knock them out or something? Use your magic?'

Galilee chuckled ruefully.

'Like you, I'm still learning how to use my powers. So as guns are involved, someone could end up getting killed.'

He looked about him, a bemused expression on his face.

'Besides, it's odd round here; like someone's already soaked up all the energy and – leave that wasp alone Beth!'

Beth was idly attempting to shoo a bothersome wasp away.

'It's just a wasp, silly little thing!'

'If you kill it Beth, it won't be replaced.'

'And that's a bad thing?' Beth giggled.

'I think so. Just as I think we'll miss that field of corn when they harvest it and it never returns.'

He pointed off towards the slightly higher field where he'd had the argument with the farmhands. The harvester had gone back to carving its dark track through the golden waves of corn.

'Never returns?'

Beth looked at the muddy brown strands feeding out from behind the harvester.

'That's why you were arguing with them? You wanted them to stop?'

With a nod of agreement, Galilee pointed down to the areas of grass that had already been flattened and churned up into a muddy track by their earlier passing.

'See this grass? It's not going to grow again – there's no reproduction, no germination, taking place.'

Beth thought of Gerry's phantom pregnancy, and Foal's. And what had farmer Hayart said? Something about his cows and pigs, and the calves and piglets that never came?

'It's beautiful, isn't it?'

With a wave of his hand, Galilee drew Beth's attention to their almost perfect surroundings.

'Nature at its most ideal; abundant, flowering, blossoming. The perfect spirit of nature. The downside of it all, Beth, is that like this muddy track, once it's damaged it will just continue to deteriorate. And it won't recover unless somebody uses their powers to help it.'

If magic was the answer, Beth couldn't see what the problem was. Surely, _anything_ could be achieved using magic?

'Then once I have better control of my powers, _I'll_ make it grow again,' she firmly declared.

Galilee chuckled wryly.

'Well, if you're really a water fay, and all you're controlling is water, it's never, _ever_ really going to be enough. Besides, we'd just be endangering ourselves using up energy like that – it has to wait.'

'Wait? Endangering ourselves? Why does it have to wait? It's _magic_!'

'What – for a better word – we call magic is just our own reordering of whatever energy's surrounding us. All these physical laws, they gave it order; but now everything's malleable, fluid, once again. But there's only so much energy close by that we can draw on, right?'

'You mean – what? If we use it up, and something attacks us again, we've got nothing to defend ourselves with?'

He frowned, nodded.

'Plus it's much more tiring using magic than you'd think.'

'If you say so, Mr Know-it-all,' Beth replied peevishly.

She was annoyed by the way Galilee seemed to have a ready answer for anything.

Wasn't there anything he didn't know? She found everything so confusing.

What had Frobisher asked Heddy Back at the farm? To explain how the planets continued to revolve if there were no longer any laws of gravity?

Didn't he have a point?

She pointed up at the sun.

'The planets and stars;' she said. 'How come they're all still up there, if there isn't any gravity?'

'Gravity still exists,' Galilee said with remarkable assurance. 'But like everything else, it's just not so clearly defined anymore. As long as enough of us expect the planets to keep on revolving as we're used to, they'll keep on revolving for the moment.'

For the moment? Beth wasn't sure she wanted to ask how long Galilee thought that 'moment' would be.

'How come you know all this?' she asked instead.

Galilee shrugged.

'I'm only picking it up bit by bit from Machal to be honest.'

'Machal? He's the magic spirit inside you, yeah?'

Galilee laughed.

'Well, "magic spirit" is a bit of an odd description. But, yeah, I suppose that's the easiest way to understand how they can be a part of us. But they're real enough, Beth. And could be again.'

Beth shuddered.

'You mean like that holak thing, that burst out of Solly? That was real enough.'

'That's why we need to take it slow while we get used to them, Beth; so we're the ones remaining in control. It helps, I must admit, if they're the good guys. They're more likely to think you also have a right to exist.'

Inclining his head slightly, he stared directly into Beth's eyes.

She felt that he wasn't just expecting her to _say_ something, but also to _admit_ something.

'Hmmn, well luckily for me,' she said, 'Lynese is pretty shy, if a bit spiky. It's not easy getting her to talk.'

'Spiky?' Galilee grinned. 'Well, I suppose you'd be a bit "spiky" if you'd woken up and found you'd been imprisoned for thousands of years. And yeah, okay; I _could_ understand her wanting to lie low. Your house was attacked because they wanted to kill her – and yes, you too of course – before she was in full control of her powers.'

'But why me? Why did mum have to die, just because they wanted to get an innocent little water fay?'

'Innocent? Water fay? Beth, those firemen wouldn't go to all that trouble for an "innocent little water fay".'

Beth didn't know whether to be surprised or angry.

Galilee was just about calling her a liar by saying she couldn't really be a water fay.

'And Beth, those firemen, right?' he added. 'They were the _good_ guys!'

*

# Chapter 41

A heavy metallic clunk behind them made Beth jump.

She whirled around.

The armoured car had come to halt.

It was rocking wildly on strained, squeaking springs. From inside, there came a rapid series of clangs and thuds.

Like bodies careering around. Crashing into levers, boxes and booming metal walls.

'Sarge? Tom?'

In a defensive crouch, his gun at the ready, the soldier nervously edged closer to the armoured car.

He leapt back, shuddering with horror.

A section of the car's steel sides seemed to have temporarily come alive. It was sprouting a number of small tentacles.

'What the–?'

The steel tentacles swiftly withdrew. They instantly reappeared higher up the vehicle.

When these also quickly vanished, they re-emerged as freshly sprouting limbs along another side of the car.

'Quick! Come back!' Galilee sprinted forward, reaching out to grab the stunned soldier and pull him away.

He was too late.

The metallic tentacles burst out of the armoured car's front plates.

Reaching out towards the soldier far faster than Galilee could, they sprang free of the metal. They pierced and deeply embedded themselves in the soldier as if he were made of molten rubber.

They stretched out inside him, until he appeared to be a writhing, fleshy octopus.

Galilee jumped back, warning Beth to keep her distance.

'An odrad! Stay back!'

Beth didn't need any orders.

Thankfully, she couldn't see the poor soldier's face. But she heard what sounded like a choking gurgling.

The tentacles, no longer metallic but formed from white, quivering flesh, disappeared and reappeared in quick succession.

Gradually, they shredded the uniform. Abruptly, a cluster of eyes protruded from what had been the soldier's back.

Ungainly walking backwards, the hideously transformed soldier began to slowly approach Beth and Galilee.

Out of the corner of her eye, Beth saw that Galilee, like her, was steadily backing away from the oncoming soldier.

Why isn't he using his powers to keep this...this _thing_ back?

His hands were raised, as if he were about to create the whirlwinds he had used earlier.

Yet he was grimacing, his teeth clenched in agony as if he were straining hard to conjure up a blast of air.

A slight turbulence began to form around his hands. But Galilee appeared to be painfully struggling to create even this pathetic effect.

The tentacled odrad suddenly exploded from the soldier's squirming body.

Leaving a wasted husk to crumple to the ground, it leapt through the air towards Galilee.

*

A whirling gust at last shot forwards from the boy's hands.

Rippling around the odrad, it violently spun the shrieking beast in mid-air.

With a pained, surprised squeal, the creature was cast aside. It rolled across the ground, a mass of tangled tentacles.

What looked to Beth like a grotesque hybrid of squid and massive spider hurriedly scampered across the grass, heading for the cover of the hedgerow.

Galilee, his face etched with the strain, tried to catch it once more in the whirling wind emanating from his hands. The air whipped up the grass behind the rapidly retreating odrad.

The odrad disappeared into the hedgerow, merging into its branches as fluidly as it had merged into the armoured car's metal and the soldier's flesh.

A swiftly moving wave, it rapidly flowed from one bush into the next, the swaying branches indistinguishable from the woody tentacles.

Galilee's whirlwinds pursued the retreating beast, churning up and shaking the hawthorns and brambles. But they lacked the strength and speed of the gusts that had earlier torn the hedgerow apart.

Soon, even these weak squalls petered out. The escaping odrad rippled down the line of bushes, passing farther into the distance with every second.

'What...what did you say that was? An odrad?'

Beth stared at what remained of the poor soldier.

His body could have been a shredded, deflated balloon.

The armoured car was unmoving, silent. Beth didn't like to think what the soldiers inside looked like.

'Just how many of these creatures are there?'

She stared at the soldier's body again, this time with a twinge of fear.

'Fortunately, not that many!'

Galilee answered almost thoughtlessly. He was looking about himself with a perplexed expression.

'I'm surprised we've come across two so close together, to be honest.'

'Gerry!'

Suddenly remembering her friend, Beth rushed around to the back of the armoured car.

She was dreading what she would find.

*

Gerry was still laid out across the vehicle's back, snoring contentedly as she slept.

Beth broke into a harsh burst of relieved laughter.

'Asleep! Asleep through all that!'

As Galilee came alongside her, he remained serious, anxious.

Rather than Gerry, he was looking at the soldier laid alongside her. The soldier's body had split open, as Solly's had.

'It came from him didn't it, that odrad?'

Beth recognised the way the flesh had parted in great chunks.

'Like the holak came from Solly?'

Galilee nodded.

'So how come it didn't attack Gerry first?'

'She was asleep. It probably saved her. It would have heard the men moving around inside first.'

He was still frowning, like he was trying to figure something out.

'Why have we got two of them here, so close together?'

He stared at Beth curiously, almost accusingly.

'This Foley; you've known him for, what? A few weeks? Months? Years?'

'Well, since I ran away from home. He saw me begging in the streets. Said I should join his group. He took me in when I needed help. So, yeah, he isn't the nicest guy around for sure; but, you know, perhaps that's the sort of guy you need on your side when life's against you.'

She realised she was being defensive.

She was suddenly furious that Galilee, just like so many other people in her life, made her feel like she had to explain her actions, her choices.

'Why are you asking me all this? Is it because you couldn't use you powers? Are you blaming _me_?'

Galilee angrily glared back at her.

'See the thing is, Beth, you and Foley coming together doesn't strike me as just a coincidence. You probably sensed some sort of connection. Even though you weren't aware of it yet, let alone what it could be. So, what was it drawing you together, Beth?'

'I don't believe this! You really are blaming me for your lack of powers, aren't you? So what if there were two beasts here? One of them was a soldier, right, Mr Smarty-pants! He was ordered here! So where's the coincidence in that, eh?'

'Remember what I said about all authority being corrupt? Yes, he was ordered here, but that might have been for a reason! I can't tell who's got these creatures inside them. But some people can!'

'And you think I must've had something to do with it? So I'm in control of the army now am I? So, hey, I know there's this murderous beast just hanging around inside Solly, just waiting to split him open and attack me, but, hey – bring it on! And hey, let's have an odrad too! That's what I call real fun these days! Or is it just that – oh yeah, I get it now! We're all bosom buddies, aren't we? Just like me and Foley, we're all somehow being happily drawn together. Because, you know, we're all birds of a feather, aren't we?'

'Well look, right, _something_ , or someone, is using up most of the energy around here!'

Galilee sounded every bit as furious and exasperated as Beth.

'It's almost impossible to draw on _any_ energy! It's like someone wanted the odrad to escape.'

'Oh, and that would be me, would it? I'd like a thing like a six-foot spider with tentacles that tear you apart to escape would I?'

'Okay, okay, you've made your point Beth!' Galilee raised his hands resignedly. 'I'm sorry! But I've never come across anything like it before. It's like someone's just _hardened_ everything around us slightly. Making sure it's no longer fluid, no longer usable.'

Beth looked out across the fields.

'I never saw anything magical happening,' she said. 'It's all just the same, isn't it?'

'Yeah, see, but that's the weird thing; it's been given the barest minimum of order. _All_ of it. _Everything_ around us. And barely any chinks in it, either, for me to use and break up that order to make it usable again. Do you know how much power it takes to do that?'

'Well there you go, see? And you thought _I_ was responsible? Someone who doesn't even have the slightest idea what you're rabbiting on about?'

The sharp rap and bark of machinegun fire stopped Galilee from answering.

'The farm!' His eyes widened in alarm. 'That seemed to come from the farm!'

'What? What's that me dearie?'

The shots had woken Gerry. Still dazed, still half drunk, she began to slide off the back of the armoured car.

'Going back to the farm are we?' she asked with a slur.

'Heddy!' Ignoring Gerry, Beth glanced fearfully at Galilee. 'And her dad!'

'The odrad,' he said, confirming Beth's worst fears.

*

# Chapter 42

There was no more gunfire from the farm.

Beth looked hopefully at Galilee; did that mean that the soldiers had killed the odrad?

His tight-lipped frown was all the answer she needed.

'We have to help them,' he said.

'But...but your powers – what can you do?'

'Whatever it is that's stopping me, I can't see it extending that far.'

'That far?'

Gerry, leaning unsteadily against the armoured car, was still slurring her words.

'What far?' she added, obviously confused by Galilee and Beth's conversation.

Reaching for her, Galilee began to gently help her move away from the armoured car.

'We'd better get her somewhere safer,' Galilee said to Beth, indicating with a nod of his head the steam pouring from the mass of holes in the vehicle's sides. 'The odrad's wrecked the engine. It could explode, along with any ammunition in there.'

Gerry continued to stumble drunkenly.

It took quite an effort to quickly move her to a safe distance away from the armoured car, even with both Beth and Galilee supporting her.

'Beth,' Galilee said, 'we've either got to leave your friend here, or I'm going to have to run on ahead to the farm.'

'I can't leave her.'

Beth glanced nervously at the husk of the solider that lay crumpled on the floor. There would be others inside the armoured car too.

'What about these soldiers? Will they...?'

'Turn into other creatures? As I said, there aren't usually too many around. Besides, once an odrad has done its work inside, there's not usually much that's usable.'

'"Usually"? That's two "usuallys" you just used.'

Galilee shrugged, like there wasn't much he could do about it.

*

'Catch up as soon as you can,' Galilee called back as he set off at a sprint towards the farm.

'Come on Gerry!'

Beth tried to readjust the way she was supporting her friend, hoping to find a more comfortable position that made it easier to support her weight.

'Sober up! Put a bit of life into it!'

Beth's own feet caught and stumbled in the ruts of the uneven path.

'Does a water fay know any magic for carrying a drunken friend across a field?' Beth mumbled irritably.

Well, there's plenty of water in these ditches. Usually we'd just splash some water up in her face.

'Not another "usually",' Beth grumbled. 'What's stopping you – oh yeah, I remember. This "hardening" of the magic Galilee was complaining about.'

Yes, interesting that, isn't it? The way lover boy's powers were restricted like that.

'Lover boy? I'd hardly call him _lover_ boy!'

Oh come on Beth! You can't fool me. I'm here inside you, remember?

'What?'

Beth was aghast. She felt, well, somehow _naked_.

'You're saying you can read my thoughts after all?'

_Well, I can when you give yourself away like that, silly! Your_ emotions _, though; now_ they're _an open book to me. He's handsome, intelligent, powerful. What's not to like? Oh yes. He's a bit of a goody-goody, isn't he?_

'And infuriating, annoying, big-headed, arrogant! He won't listen to a word I say. And he doesn't trust me, so I don't reckon he likes me, do you?'

Hmmn, sounds like love to me. You're finding him exasperating, don't you think, because you wish he liked you?

'Hah ha! That's rubbish. Read my mind; see, it's saying, "that's rubbish"!'

If he doesn't like you, what's he still doing here? The way you've been talking to him, I wouldn't blame lover boy at all if he just decided to take off and leave you to it.

'Look, he's not _lover_ _boy_ , okay?'

Beth staggered under Gerry's weight as they slowly worked their way over a particularly rocky piece of ground. She could easily twist an ankle if she wasn't careful.

'Any sign that this thing or whatever it is that's stopping magic being used is fading yet?'

_It's_ gradually _fading. As if no one's really controlling it anymore. But it covers a pretty wide area; probably to make sure lover b– your friend couldn't draw on anything outside it. He did remarkably well to do what he did, considering._

'Yeah, considering he thinks _I_ did it! How's that for trust, eh? The suspicious...jerk!'

It suddenly dawned on Beth that Lynese might be responsible.

'We _didn't_ do it, right? Did you let that odrad go?'

_Now who's being a suspicious jerk? Of course I didn't! As lover boy put it, someone, or_ something _, had already reordered most of the energy surrounding us. Once someone's done that, it isn't easy to make it flexible again._

'He said it felt like it had been hardened. Does that make sense?'

Only in the sense that he was trying to express it in a way you'd understand. To put it even simpler; first, you can keep on moulding a piece of clay until you let it begin to harden, can't you? In which case you could end up stuck with what you have. Second, if a lump of clay is left shapeless – rather than someone making the effort and taking the time to create something from it – it's not easy to work out who was responsible, yes? Genius really; you can put a vast area of energy out of use with relatively little effort. And without drawing attention to where the forming's coming from.'

'So...if you didn't do it – are you really, well, you know, _bad_? Or did those firemen make a...well, a mistake?'

We both know they made a mistake darling. They ended up killing your poor mother instead, didn't they?

That last part upset Beth. She tried not to think about her mum's death.

'I...I still don't think you're answering my question. I know you're not telling me everything. That sword, Hugh – the way it flew into my hand. The way I could use it so easily. Why would a water fay need a sword?'

_Well, first off, it's_ Hew _, darling. As in hewing wood._

'Yeah, or bodies. Or flesh.'

I came from a time when everyone needed a sword, dear, remember? You've just seen how it wasn't always possible to use magic. What's a poor little girl like me supposed to do? Just hope someone like lover boy comes along to protect me?'

Before Beth could insist yet again that Galilee wasn't her 'lover boy', the air around them cracked, glowed and punched her hard on the back.

The armoured car finally exploded, with shells and bullets loudly detonating in quick succession.

Beth forced Gerry into a faster walk, urging her on.

Wisps of tar-black smoke passed high above their heads.

'So, _were_ you bad?'

Bad, good. It's all semantics darling.

'So you were bad! Oh no, this is terrible!'

Oh stop fussing child! I was young! I got mixed up with the wrong crowd; that age old story! But I thought I was doing the right thing, if you must know. Because it was simply a difference of opinion between–

'Difference of opinion? A _war_ , you mean?'

Please don't interrupt; we have to make the best of this situation, which means showing a little politeness to each other, yes?'

'Okay, sorry.'

So, as I was saying; it was between those who wanted life to carry on as it always had, and those who wanted change for change's sake. Those who wanted everything to remain fluid, so that we could continue to do magic. And those who insisted that, for the sake of the humans, everything needed order – even if that meant they too would no longer be capable of magic. That's hardly bad is it; wanting to keep magic?

'I suppose it could be used to do bad things.'

And good, too. I healed humans. I temporarily strengthened their own, weakened spirit by exchanging some of it for some of my own spirit. I was originally nearer to what you would call a mermaid than a human. But I gradually became more human than magical spirit. And besides, if it makes you feel any better, I did change sides in the end.'

'Hmn, why?' Beth said doubtfully. 'Why change sides if you wanted to continue doing magic?'

_I realised that not everyone on the side I'd chosen had the wellbeing of humans in mind after all. The island of Lyonessee I mentioned earlier; it didn't just sink out of sight through some sort of natural catastrophe. It was deliberately sunk_.

'Why? Who'd do such a thing?'

I'm not sure who she was – someone powerful, though, that's for sure. Morrigan; I think that was her name. Very beautiful. I tried to stop her, naturally. It was hopeless, I knew that, but I was so angry. I would have died but...well, thankfully that's when it all happened, isn't it?

'What happened?'

All this thing you think this Merlin character did. Suddenly, we're all just sort of sucked up – well, that's what it felt like anyway – and then, well, nothing. I can't remember anything else immediately after that. There were just odd, brief moments when I felt like I was waking up from a long, drugged sleep. But I was seeing things through other people's eyes. I had no control over anything. And life had changed. And it changed all over again the next time I thought I was waking up.

'This waking up; this is what made my ancestors think we were, what – possessed? Had a demon or something inside us?'

Probably. Some saw it as a gift, set themselves up as fortune tellers – not very good ones, I suspect. Others, well, to them it was a curse; some were burnt as witches. But fortunately it was always when it was too late, when they had already had a daughter.

'So let me get this straight; you say you changed sides, but no one was around to see that you'd changed sides, yeah?'

Well, I suppose it was what could be called a late conversion. That's probably what's confusing lover boy; are you good or bad, it's hard for him to tell. Oh, wait – do you still want to wake your friend up?

'Yes, I–'

A fountain of freezing, muddy water erupted from the nearby ditch. It struck Gerry directly in her face.

'What the, what's wrong, what...'

Gerry spluttered and cursed, her eyes widening in shock.

She immediately straightened, shaking off the last of the water as the spraying fountain came to an abrupt halt.

Everything's fluid again. We've either moved out of the affected area, or the original spell has faded.

'Gerry, we need to get to the farm as quickly as we can.'

Beth began to help Gerry wipe the water away from her drenched face.

'Can you run?'

'I could _never_ run, me dearie. But I'll give it a try!'

*

# Chapter 43

Gerry didn't so much run as force her body into a speedy wobble.

But, at last, they were covering ground reasonably quickly.

In the farmyard, they came across the husks of two soldiers. Guns lay to one side, bent and mangled.

The odrad's squirming tentacles had mingled with wood and metal as the writhing, dying soldiers had uselessly clung on to their weapons.

Inside the farmhouse, they could hear screaming, yells, crashes, bangs and the rushing of violent winds.

The front door was smashed and splintered, and hanging off its hinges.

As Beth and Gerry ran inside, they felt the incredible pressure of the whirling squalls being conjured up by Galilee.

The whirlwinds weren't as powerful as Beth had expected them to be. Perhaps, she reasoned, he had to be careful, making sure he didn't injure anyone.

Heddy, her father and Police Commissioner Frobisher were flat against the floor, covering their heads.

As Galilee was the only one standing, it looked as if they were all cowering from the gusts spiralling from his waving hands.

The heavy table Heddy had been working on earlier had been shattered, what was left of it leaning steeply on its two remaining legs. Sideboards and cupboards looked like they had been smashed with a sledgehammer.

The large, white sink was upturned and crazily shaped, almost as if it had melted at some point. Every wall was crazily fractured and partially bulging, with cracked pictures hanging at wild angles.

The brick and tiles of the fireplace quivered like they were shivering. Almost instantaneously, a broken dresser and its shattered china plates squirmed and rippled as if transformed into some enormous, exotic jellyfish.

Next, the odrad swiftly slithered down through an armchair leaning against the wall. Its tentacles rose and fell as it swam through cloth and springs.

It hurtled at incredible speed into the floor, passing as effortlessly through the stone and carpets as a shark through water.

'Beth, keep still!'

Galilee's face was creased with the pain and frustration he had displayed earlier when struggling to conjure up his miniature storms.

'Don't move!'

Suddenly, the odrad turned sharply towards Beth.

A whirling squall struck the stone flags just in front of the onrushing odrad. The demon ran into the squall, abruptly jumping back with an agonised squeal as if it had struck an electrified fence.

It shot away from the wind as swiftly as it could, rippling up and along the nearest wall.

Behind Galilee, Frobisher quietly rose up from the floor.

Raising his gun, he brought it down hard on the back of the boy's head.

*

The squalling wind stopped.

Galilee flopped forward, disappearing behind what was left of the table.

'What are you doing Frobisher?' Farmer Hayart demanded, reaching out and grabbing Frobisher by his ankle.

Sensing the movement, the odrad started to ripple along the wall, darting towards them.

Frobisher calmly shot the farmer twice in his back.

The odrad came to a halt in the wall just above the farmer's lifeless body.

'Daddy! No!' Heddy wailed, leaping to her feet.

'Do as I say!' Frobisher screamed at the odrad with the authoritative tones he used on the parade ground.

He raised a hand high into the air, forming it into a fist, yet holding the two outer fingers up like horns.

Ignoring him, the odrad flowed down through the wall. It surged through the stone flags, heading across the floor towards Heddy.

Without even having to think about it, Beth raised a calming hand towards the distressed Heddy.

The girl immediately became strangely peaceful and still.

'Obey me!'

Frobisher leant towards the odrad, his hand an urgently waved, horn-fisted sign.

Sensing the new, more exaggerated movement of the Police Commissioner, the odrad whirled towards him.

'Obey me! Obey me!' he screeched, his face contorted with fear.

'Stop!'

The odrad stopped.

Frobisher nearly fainted with relief, his whole body trembling.

Foley had entered by the smashed door.

He pushed his way past a stupefied Gerry, a horrified Beth.

His hand was clenched in the same horn-fisted shape Frobisher had made.

As he stepped farther into the room, he shouted out another command to the stilled odrad.

'Reveal yourself!'

He kept his hand firmly clenched.

Frobisher shivered in fright as the odrad began to slowly move closer towards him once more.

At the last second, however, the odrad twisted off to one side. It sickeningly slithered into the lifeless farmer Hayart.

Beth made a slight movement with her hand towards Heddy. As if in a dream, Heddy turned to stare out of what remained of the main window.

Farmer Hayart rose to his feet, a quivering mass of swaying feelers.

His sagging head suddenly straightened up, a tentacle protruding and waving from its very top.

He stared blankly at a trembling Frobisher.

But the multiple eyes of the odrad looked out of his back, towards a triumphantly beaming Foley.

'An odrad! Well well well! And I'm so used to Solly letting me down!'

Foley's eyes narrowed as he more closely observed the weirdly swaying amalgamation of farmer and odrad.

'Foley? What's going on around here?' Gerry demanded.

She looked more bewildered than when she had been drunk.

'Has someone been dropping certain substances into my drink?'

Foley ignored her. He stepped closer towards the odrad.

'Hmn, but you're _not_ Solly are you? I was right when I thought he'd be a holak, wasn't I?

Beth was about to speak when Frobisher fell to his knees before Foley.

'My...my liege?' he burbled unsurely.

'My liege?' Foley gave a satisfied chuckle. 'Hah, I like it! Yes, I like it!'

He noted that Frobisher was still wary of the nearby odrad.

'Lucky for you, isn't it, that I noticed someone's been holding back the use of magic round here. I came to see what was going on.'

Foley glanced about himself, like he was attempting to find the source of this remarkable power. He stared at Beth with a mocking smile.

'And it isn't you, is it Annie?'

Beth shook her head.

'I don't know who's doing it,' she admitted.

So it's happened again, she thought.

That's why Galilee was struggling to conjure up his whirlwinds!

But...but then how did I manage to calm Heddy? And without even really thinking about it too?

She looked over to where Heddy was still dreamily staring out of the shattered window. The girl seemed to be thankfully oblivious of the horrendous things that had happened to her poor father.

'The odrad, my liege,' Frobisher was saying to Foley. 'I was told it would be my servant.'

'Yours eh? It didn't seem to me that it wanted to be your servant. But, as you wish–'

He waved his hand nonchalantly.

The odrad swung around, the farmer now curiously staring towards the wall.

The beast's clump of dark eyes hooked hungrily onto the kneeling Frobisher.

'No no, sir!' Frobisher shrieked urgently. 'He's yours, he's yours!

With a mischievous chuckle, Foley waved a hand once more, taking back control of the odrad.

'A fair exchange, I think. As my holak has disappeared.'

He turned to peer accusingly at Beth.

'But–'

'No matter Annie.'

As Foley interrupted Beth's attempt to explain, he indicated that Frobisher should stand.

'But I'm surprised you'd kill such a useful friend of ours. As I'm surprised you couldn't control our pretty little odrad here.'

His hand flicked from horned fist to a looser clenching of his fingers, as if he were pulling on an invisible thread.

The odrad slithered forward, leaving the body of the farmer to crumple to the floor.

Frobisher's face creased in disgust and terror. The odrad supported itself on three tentacles as if they were legs.

Five more tentacles splayed out in all directions, their positions on the body constantly changing.

'You can go now,' Foley sneered at the cowering Frobisher.

Nodding gratefully, Frobisher bent down to pick up his cap from the floor.

'This mess – I'll send someone round to clean it up.'

He forced his cap tightly on his head as if it would somehow restore his authority.

'You do that.' Foley grinned scornfully.

Frobisher pushed his way past Beth and Gerry, hurrying out of the door.

'Is it deaf?' Gerry said, tentatively drawing closer to the odrad.

'Deaf?' Even Beth was surprised by Gerry's query.

'Well, that hand signal thing.'

She mimicked Foley's use of the horn-fisted sign.

'It's sign language for "I love you".'

Noticing that both Beth and Foley were staring at her curiously, she added, 'I had a niece who was deaf.'

'I love you?'

Foley repeated Gerry's comment with a satisfied snigger.

'Hmn, pretty apt, I suppose. But haven't either of you two noticed it on TV? In newspaper photos? Our politicians, our PM, the US President? The New World Order? They're all using it for God's – for the _Devil's_ sake!'

He made the sign again, raising his hand this time so that Beth and Gerry could see it clearly.

The horns. The thumb resting on the bent, middle fingers, like a pointed face.

Yes, there was something about it that made it look like the face of the Devil.

*

# Chapter 44

Foal proudly strutted into the room, dragging one of the dead rabbits Foley had left her guarding outside.

The rabbit's leg dropped to the floor, Foal's mouth falling open on sight of the odrad.

She whimpered, looking to both Foley and Beth for reassurance. Should she be frightened? Was she expected to attack this strange creature?

The odrad shifted slightly, curiously observing this new intruder.

'Hah, it doesn't know what to make of our little dachshund here,' Foley snickered appreciatively. 'They weren't around, of course, in its heyday.'

Foal began sniffing the air. She padded quietly around what remained of the table, where she began to urgently bark.

Oh no! Galilee!

Beth cursed herself for her lack of consideration. She had forgotten all about him!

'Hello, what've we got here?'

Intrigued by Foal's yapping, Foley had stepped behind the upturned table. He crouched down, slightly pulling Galilee's head up to get a better look at him.

'I recognise this little man, I really do!'

'He doesn't mean us any harm Foley.'

Beth rushed towards him, worried for Galilee's safety.

'Yes, he was at the fire; but he's helped me! He saved me from the holak!'

'At the fire?'

Foley said this like he had never even considered it until now.

'Helped you, did he?'

He balefully stared up at Beth.

_'Saved_ you from the holak – which was _attacking_ you, then, I suppose?'

Beth nodded uncertainly. Foley sounded surprised, suspicious even, that the holak had attacked her.

As he stood up once more, Foley let Galilee's head fall back against the stone floor. The head stuck the floor so hard that Beth wondered if Foley hadn't actually pushed it.

'How very interesting Beth,' Foley said. 'How very, very interesting indeed!'

Beth wasn't sure why, but she felt that Foley's dropping of 'Annie', his return to saying 'Beth', seemed to carry a hint of menace.

His eyes lit up in wonder.

'You really really don't know who he is, do you?'

Foley clicked his fingers, drawing the odrad's attention. He pointed at Gerry.

The odrad leapt towards a smashed, toppled cupboard. Merging into the wreckage, the beast used it as a jumping off point that took it into the wall.

The window frame rippled as the odrad surged through the narrow band of wall above it. The dreamy Heddy was completely oblivious of its swift passing.

Confused and bewildered, Gerry was no longer sure where to look.

But Beth saw that the odrad was using the wall to curve around and come out from behind her.

Hew! To me!

As before, with a flash of highly burnished steel the sword slipped neatly into Beth's waiting hand.

She hopped and spun, smoothly curling around Gerry. As part of the same fluid movement, she brought up the sword.

The odrad erupted from a wall cabinet it had temporarily mingled with. The blade curved up towards it, catching it in mid-flight.

The steel effortlessly sliced through two of the demon's tentacles, one of which was still mainly formed of wood.

With a high-pitched shriek, the odrad immediately retreated back into the cabinet.

Beth whirled and struck again. She carved off another brittle, wooden tentacle even as the odrad swam up the wall.

'Bravo Beth, bravo!'

Foley was enjoying himself immensely. He clapped as if he were watching a theatrical show.

Foal ran around the room, excitedly barking, though she wasn't quite sure what she was chasing, or why.

The wall rose and fell as the odrad surged through it. First a row of pine cupboards momentarily sprouted tentacles, then the brick of the fireplace.

Finally, the odrad slithered into the ancient and massive iron stove.

Metal tentacles pushed hard against the stone floor. They pushed up, wrenching everything forward.

The chimney pipe cracked under the strain. Thick, black smoke poured into the room.

It was more iron octopus than iron stove, more smoothly moving praying mantis than solidly heavy block, that strode forth from the fireplace.

Long tentacles stretched across the room. They whipped wildly around Beth's head, trying to find a way past her swinging blade.

They changed shape, transforming into razor-sharp blades themselves. Hot coals spat from the creature's mouth, striking Beth's face, her chest.

Beth ducked and weaved, avoiding the worst of the rain of hot coals.

For the moment, she had no choice but to ignore those landing around her, even though they were setting piles of splintered wood on fire.

Foal, despite being terrified, rushed around the tentacles serving as the odrad's feet, yapping, snapping.

With a ringing clang, the sharpened end of a tentacle was severed. Yet even as it flew across the room, what remained of the tentacle sharpened into a new blade that continued to probe for weaknesses in Beth's defences.

The rain of hot coals abruptly ended, only to suddenly explode in Heddy's direction.

Beth had to dive and roll, bringing Heddy down to the floor with a one-armed flying tackle to her legs.

The odrad sprang forward, its tentacles curving down towards the temporarily vulnerable Beth.

Foal leapt for the beast's clump of eyes. In mid-leap, she transformed into a small wolf.

Her jaws rived viciously at the clustered eyes. The eyes spurted juice like squashed blackberries.

The odrad shrieked and jerked backwards. The plumes of dark smoke spurting from the stovepipe immediately filled the room, like an octopus's defensive cloud of ink.

But even in its retreat, the demon struck out at Beth with its sharpened tentacles. They struck the stone flags with a clatter and shower of sparks as Beth rolled clear.

A tentacle exploded from the stove's furnace as a thick feeler of burning hot coals, coiling up towards Foal. Foal leapt away, only for the tentacle to immediately lash out once again.

This time, the tentacle caught and painfully curled around Foal's leg. She yelped in agony, the coals burning though to the bone.

But now Beth was back on her feet, keeping low and rushing beneath the swaying tentacles.

Gripping Hew in two hands, she raised the handle high above her head, the blade pointing down towards the odrad's massed eyes.

She brought it down hard, the blade sinking and sinking as if she were pushing it into soft cheese rather than ancient iron.

The odrad's shrieks were grinding and metallic, like fingernails drawn across a blackboard.

Its tentacles shivered, shook, quivered uncontrollably.

With a grateful whimper, Foal limped away.

Beth twisted the sword, jerked it to change its angle, then violently wrenched it back.

Slowly, she began to pull the screaming odrad from the stove, as if it were a snail being twisted out of its shell.

The odrad slithered and writhed, lashing out weakly and uselessly.

As Beth dragged the repulsively fleshy odrad clear of the stove, she sensed that she had to work quickly.

The odrad began to take on the substance of the sword itself, hardening as it intermingled with it.

It threatened to bend and mould the blade to its own will.

Beth pushed hard on the sword again, her hand plunging into the gelatinous head. Her skin caught and split on odrad flesh that was already turning to steel.

Her hand tingled as the odrad sought to seep into and fuse with her own substance.

She pulled her hand clear, leaving the sword deeply embedded.

With what was left of its eyes, the odrad stared at her in a mix of triumph and surprise at its unexpected reprieve.

Its tentacles hardened as it drew on the strength of the sword's steel.

It began to straighten up, advancing on Beth once more.

*

# Chapter 45

Parts of the transformed and rejuvenated odrad were now even lustrously beautiful, taking on the brilliance of the hilt's rubies and gems.

Hew! To me!

In response to Beth's call, the sword spun and wheeled.

The odrad wailed in agony as it was sliced apart deep within its bowels.

Hew leapt into Beth's hand, the handle and blade greasy with severed flesh and an orange blood.

Gutted in its fleshy part, severed where it was steel, shattered along flaws in the gemstone, the odrad crumbled to the floor.

A hoard of roughly shaped jewels tumbled across the stone flags.

Beth looked down at what remained of the odrad in astonishment.

Had she done that?

*

Beth was brought out of her stupor by a slow handclap.

'So so _so_ theatrical Beth!'

Foley languidly walked towards her, his hands raised before him as he mockingly applauded her. He casually leant against the weirdly mangled stove.

'Admirable, in some ways, too. The way you passed that test with only a modicum of your powers.'

'That was a _test_?' Beth snapped angrily. 'You risked Gerry's life – and you've injured Foal! – for the sake of a _test_?'

Foal had retired to a corner where, whimpering painfully, she was licking her badly burned leg.

Beth wanted to help her, but Gerry was having difficulty trying to stamp out the fires started by the hot coals. With a wave of her hand, Beth drew in spurts of water from the farmhouse's blocked guttering.

The jets of filthy water surged in through the smashed windows, curling around a still oblivious Heddy. They sprayed across the most persistent flames, the dying fires emitting streams of smoke that curled everywhere.

They added to the thick spirals of steam belching from the stove as if it were a wrecked battleship.

Beth rushed over to Foal. Her leg appeared semi-roasted, the skin and muscles charred and hardened, the bone visible in places.

'Oh Foal, poor Foal! What have I done to you?'

Foal was still a wolf. Recalling the wolf that had walked by her house, and the wolf that had chased away Galilee, Beth assumed she was somehow responsible for the transformation.

But those had changed back into dogs, hadn't they?

Whereas Foal was still a medium-sized wolf, rather than a minute sausage dog.

'Poor Foal?'

Foley chuckled as he watched Beth tenderly stroke the injured wolf.

'Poor, poor Annie more like!'

Hadn't Lynese claimed that she had been able to heal? And hadn't Beth somehow managed to spare Heddy the worst of seeing what had happened to her father?

She wanted Foal to be better. But nothing was happening.

'Poor Annie,' Foley gloated. 'What's happened to all your fabulous powers?'

Beth sensed that Foley was backing away.

Lifting her head, and turning a little, she saw that she had missed some of the flames.

She called on fresh spouts of water, weaker ones this time as there was hardly anything left in the guttering.

She sensed, too, that the farmhouse's water pipes were dry, as water was no longer being pumped through them.

She doused the flames, but more were erupting amongst a shattered cabinet and around the table.

'Ah yes Annie; it always makes sense, doesn't it, to use whatever's to hand, rather than creating something out of nothing?'

Foley sounded like he was glorying in Beth's problems. He also seemed fully aware that there would soon be no more water nearby to draw on.

'I'll get Heddy!' Gerry screamed from somewhere within the smoke filled room.

Gerry had obviously seen that the flames were spreading. Through a gap in the thick smoke, Beth saw Gerry striding towards Heddy and reaching out for her.

'You bring Foal!' Gerry cried.

To lift Foal, Beth had to drop her sword. She felt like it was a betrayal, leaving Hew to the flames when it had served her so well on two occasions now.

Gerry was guiding Heddy out of the door, a line of soaring flames roaring after them.

Although it was a struggle to keep Foal safe, Beth, with a wave of a hand, drenched the flames in a last, spluttering gush.

'Tut tut, yes, it always saves energy, Annie. But what happens when there's nothing there?'

Beth whirled on Foley, wondering why the heck he wasn't using his own powers to control the fire.

With a start, she saw that he was – flames were pouring from his outstretched arms.

And he was chuckling mischievously.

*

The flames rushed around Beth like circus animals responding to the whip and taunts of their trainer.

They flickered and danced, forming a curved, impenetrable wall around her.

Hew. To me!

As the faithful sword once again spun towards Beth's hand, Foley, with a satisfied chuckle, sent a fireball that struck it in mid-flight.

Immediately behind the fireball there came a roaring jet of flame.

The flailing sword, picked up in the jet's powerful stream, was carried at colossal speed towards the stone wall.

The blade struck stone that, already momentarily liquefied by the fireball's impact, effortlessly parted.

The sword sunk to its hilt, the point abruptly erupting on the other side of the wall.

'A remarkable sword, Annie! I thought it would melt.' Foley grinned wryly. 'I didn't think it could possibly be your original Hew.'

Beth grinned sickly.

She wasn't sure how she would have used the sword against Foley anyway.

She still cradled the injured Foal in her arms.

It was strange seeing the sword so deeply embedded in the rapidly cooled stone. Its ruby hilt was a miniature sun, reflecting and refracting the red, orange and yellow glow of the flames.

Hadn't this whole thing begun when she had found a similar sword embedded in stone?

Hadn't her previous life ended when she had found the sword in the fire that had killed her mum?

Was this what Lynese had meant when she had said Beth would meet her mother again?

That she would die in the flames just as her mother had done?

*

# Chapter 46

The flames flickered in the ruby.

The way they had flickered when Beth had found the sword embedded in the floor of her mum's house.

Usually, one flame looks much like any other.

The flames in her mum's house looked just like these flames.

_Just_ like them.

The flames about Beth were licking at white walls.

In places, they were revealing medieval-style wallpaper underneath.

No; the flames were _covering_ the wallpaper in white paint.

Because that's the other strange thing about a flame; it looks the same no matter which way time is flowing. Whether time is flowing the way we're used to, or whether it's decided it's – well, _time_ – to flow backwards.

The caressing flames were swiftly restoring the white paint that had covered the elaborate, brightly coloured patterns.

*

The flames also began to repair the charred wood. Holes in doorframes. Gaps in the ceilings.

Piece by piece, the flames were rapidly restoring her mum's house.

When their job was almost done, they flickered and shrank, rushing back into carpets and curtains.

They made final, delicate touches to the thread and stitching. Then they vanished in a puff of smoke.

'Mum?' Beth cried out unsurely as she wandered down the hall.

'In here love!' her mum's reply came from the kitchen.

*

Beth walked through the door into the kitchen.

The fire was still burning strongly here.

As in the rest of the house, however, the flames were rapidly restoring everything.

Tables and chairs sprang out of the fire.

Huge, disordered piles of laundry appeared on the kitchen top, waiting to be washed.

It was soon all back to the way it had been yesterday morning, when Beth had left for school.

(Was it really only yesterday morning?)

In the centre of the kitchen, a roaring column of fire extended outside through the cracked window.

The flames quivered and shrivelled, forming the shadow of a human at the column's core.

Suddenly, the fire rushed back along the horizontal jet of flame. It repaired the broken window as it disappeared outside.

And Beth's mum was standing by the kitchen table.

*

'Mum! Is it you?'

Beth wanted to run forward, to hug her mum.

But she feared that it was all a cruel mirage. That her hands would clasp at nothing, dissipating the illusion.

Her mum turned, a curious smile on her face.

'Course it's me love. Who else would it be, eh?'

Beth saw the laundry. Pile after pile of it.

The laundry Beth had begged her mum to wash. Otherwise she would have to keep on washing it until Judgement Day.

'The washing!'

With a casual twist of her head, Beth's mother stared at the piles of sheets and clothes as if she had only just noticed them.

'What? That lot? I really would be here until Judgement Day doing this little lot, wouldn't I, eh? 'Specially what with it being so close. It's all just a myth, you ask me. Put about by men who just want a clean shirt waiting for them when they're off down the pub, I'll bet!'

Beth couldn't hold back any longer.

She dashed forward, throwing her arms around her mum.

Her arms clenched around warm, solid flesh.

'Mum, mum. It's really you!'

Beth couldn't believe how wonderful it felt to have her mum's arms wrapped around her once more.

How wonderful it was to have her mum's cheek fondly resting against her head, like she used to do when Beth was a child.

'But aren't you the clever one, eh girl? You've called me back! Aren't we the lucky ones, eh, with this special thing or whatever it is our family's been carrying around all these years, eh?'

'Lucky?'

Beth pulled back from her mum, tears in her eyes.

'Mum, how can say what's happened to us is being lucky?'

'Now now, no need to go getting so upset love! Come on, let me and you sit down and have a chat, eh, love? Like we should have a long time ago!'

She gently led Beth to a seat at the table. A hot, steaming cup of tea was already waiting for each of them.

'It's nice to have this chance isn't it, eh? Not many have a chance like this, do they?'

As she sat down, Beth's mum took a sip of her tea.

'See, for one thing love, thankfully I died straight away. I figure it must've been that first jet of fire that hit me. Fancy, burning our poor house down for no reason!'

She glances around the small room wistfully.

'Thankfully! Mum, it must have been awful! An awful way to die!'

'Well, I can't see as how there's a _nice_ way to die, love. But, see, strangely it wasn't the slightest bit painful – more like just nodding off to be truthful. I didn't burn, see?'

As if to prove her point, Beth's mum held out an arm for inspection.

'It just sucked the air out of my lungs, apparently. See, when it happened, I felt this thing inside me again. Like I haven't felt it for years, Beth. Only now it was somehow comforting, protective. So you see, it was lucky that we've been a special family after all, eh?'

She couldn't fail to notice the surprise on Beth's face.

'Ah, you wonder how I know all these things, eh? Well, there have to be some advantages in being dead, don't there?'

She ignored Beth's shock.

'Fact is, I still don't know everything, to be honest love. But as I said, I'm lucky because I wouldn't be here to tell you anything I know if I'd been killed just that little bit earlier. Well, if I hadn't been killed after that calendar you found clicked into position, in fact!'

'The calendar? Mum, what would the calendar have to do with you being able to tell me what you know?'

'Well, for a start love, I couldn't tell you what I know if I wasn't here now, could I, eh? And, see, even you, love, wouldn't have been able to call me back to have this nice little chat, would you, if I'd been killed earlier? See, I don't know where all the ones who died normally, the ones who died before the calendar moved, are.'

'Mum, the more you tell me, the more confusing all this gets!'

Beth had so many questions she wanted to ask she wasn't sure which should come first.

'What do you mean, people who died normally? Where _are_ you?'

Reaching across the table, her mum took Beth's hands in hers.

In the blink of an eye, Beth was seeing everything from her mum's point of view.

She could see herself sitting at the table. But instead of the kitchen behind her, all Beth could see were countless hideous, shambling creatures.

They moved around as if there was neither ground nor walls, no up or down.

The creatures walked aimlessly on different planes, some of which were vertical, some at an angle.

It was only as some of the creatures drew near that Beth began to recognise certain human qualities. In some cases it was roughly shaped legs. In others, it was the approximate form of a head or arms.

Now that Beth was looking harder, she could see that some in the distance were almost wholly human, at least in their outline.

They were all naked, but it was the lack of anything that could be called flesh that gave them their repulsive, contorted character.

They could have been crudely formed by a child from angrily mashed boxes of coloured crayons, the wax forced together as it warmed in hot, sweaty hands.

Solly! The soldier!

This is what their flesh had looked like when they had been injured or killed!

Farmer Hayart too; the bullet's exit wound had become visible when the odrad had turned him to face the wall. Where the jacket and shirt had shredded, the flesh beneath swirled like paints wheeling in turpentine.

Come to think of it, she hadn't seen anyone who had – as her mum had put it – died normally since the calendar had clicked into position.

'But I don't understand.' Beth was looking through her own eyes once more. 'Surely it's only our bodies that get damaged when we're hurt or we die? Surely our spirit's supposed to remain, well, you know, untouched, perfect. As we're supposed to look – isn't it?'

Her mother's answer was a self-satisfied chuckle.

'Well, that's what we're always taught, isn't it love? In school and in church? That we've got this thing called a spirit inside us, and that just leaves our body behind when we die. Yes?'

Beth nodded.

'But it turns out your body _is_ your spirit, Beth – it's just hardened spirit, see? It's no longer fluid and free! Only that calendar – well, that made it all fluid again didn't it?'

Hardened? Fluid? Spirit? Beth recognised these terms.

Galilee had said everything had been hardened, taking away the fluidity that allowed him to create his spells. Heddy, too, had said that the laws had changed, that everything was fluid once more.

And hadn't Galilee also said something about the countryside looking so beautiful, so wonderful, because they were seeing the perfect spirit of nature?

'Mum, are you saying that...that people aren't flesh and blood anymore but – well, _spirit_?'

'Well, _almost_. As I said, it's more fluid, somewhere halfway in between.'

'And so now when anyone's injured – it's their spirit, not just their body, that's damaged!'

Beth's hand flew to her mouth, as if she were the one who had made it true by uttering such a dreadful thought.

Now it was her mum who nodded.

'And now they're just waiting, Beth; waiting until we're all called for the final days of judgement.'

'You too mum!' Beth anxiously clasped her mum's hands. 'You're there too! Waiting! Waiting until Judgment Day!'

'Oh Beth, don't be silly! Didn't I say it's not long at all?'

Beth's mum smiled blissfully.

'That's why everyone's changed, love – because we've already reached the End! Everyone's already living in the Last Days of Judgement!'

*

# Chapter 47

'Mum?'

Beth gazed uneasily into her mum's eyes.

The blissful smile had frozen on her mum's face. The eyes were blank, unmoving. Unseeing.

Look, this is all very touching; but if I might just interrupt? We are in the middle of a battle, remember?

Beth sensed that Lynese was studying her mother curiously.

She came out of that fire surprisingly well! What she said about there being this special thing inside her again, by the way – impossible, I'd say! Luck more like – and well, these days that's not impossible, is it?

'You mean she could have been badly burnt?'

Beth was both horrified and furious. She didn't know which she felt more.

'And I'd have seen her like that, like I saw all those deformed spirits?'

She shivered at the thought.

_What choice would I have had? You_ wanted _to see her, Beth. You wanted to see her no matter what! I felt you granting me the leeway to enable you to see her!_

'Lynese. Can't I have longer with her? Can't you do _something_?'

Something? Darling, I can't continue to freeze time just so you can have your little chat. Unless...no no, you wouldn't let me.

'Wouldn't let you what? Unless what?'

There was an urgency in Beth's voice.

_Well, it's just that,_ obviously _it's not easy casting difficult spells like this when, well, when you're keeping me firmly in control._ You _don't know any spells, do you?_

'You can do that? You can let me stay longer with mum if I just let you have a little more...control?'

Beth's enthusiasm abruptly paled as she reached the doubtfully spoken 'control'.

_More_ freedom _, not_ control _. Just give me a little more_ freedom _Beth! You'll be amazed at what we can do! We'll even take care of Argothoth!'_

'Argothoth? Who's Argothoth?'

Ohh, er, you know; this Foley friend of yours. You won't survive against him Beth, unless you–

'So you know this Argothoth? How come–'

Look, can't we have this little discussion later? What did I just say about only being able to hold back time for so long? All you need to know for now about Argothoth is that he will kill you, Beth, unless you give me cont– a little bit more freedom.

'But Galilee said I had to be careful how much control I let you have.'

Lover boy? He's just jealous that we'll be more powerful than he is! And what good's his advice if it leaves you dead, eh, Beth?

Beth felt an involuntary flexing of all her muscles, a surge of something that felt like adrenalin rushing around her entire body.

She wanted to allow it all to happen, to give way to Lynese's desire to take more control of her body.

She wanted to see more of her mum.

She wanted to have the power to defeat Foley, this Argothoth.

Yet there was a part of her unconsciously resisting, holding Lynese back.

What's wrong with you girl? Can't you see we're both going to die?

'Don't let her Beth!'

'Mum?'

Although remaining rigidly still, although her eyes were still glazed and vacant, Beth's mum was mumbling through virtually motionless lips.

'Don't let her!'

How's she doing that? She's not supposed to be able to talk like that, unless I let–

'Unless you _let_ her? You're controlling her, you mean?'

How else do you think all this is happening? Did you really think you were doing it?

'...something else the spirits said...' Beth's mum was struggling hard to get out her words. '...about Morr–'

Beth, sorry, but I can't hold this together any longer!

'About more what mum?'

Her mum shivered, flickered, breaking up into – it seemed to Beth – small, multi-coloured flames.

They shrank as they danced. They left more and more space between them, until there was just an empty chair.

'Mum!'

Don't worry! She's not gone forever! But neither has Argothoth! I need you to let me take him on Beth! You can't do it yourself!

'No! You heard what my mum just said!'

Since when did you listen to what your mum said?

'Since she died, I suppose!' Beth answered tartly.

_Oh, then please yourself girl! Obviously you're determined to meet her by actually dying yourself! Though I'd just like you to know – I_ really _resent the fact you're taking me with you!_

*

# Chapter 48

The flames twirling and pirouetting around them should have unnerved Foal.

Yet the small wolf remained calm and still as Beth cradled her.

If I'm going to die, Beth thought, let's hope that it's like mum – instantly and without pain.

Please, please just let the air be sucked from my lungs! Foal too. Don't let us burn!

*

Beth spun around, hearing an unnerving creaking and snapping off to her side.

A wall was shaking, the mortar crumbling. Perhaps pushed to its limits by first the rapid burrowing of the odrad, then the swift temperature changes of cold water and incredibly hot flames, the wall was swiftly fracturing.

Even Foley appeared surprised.

Stepping back warily, he momentarily forgot to expand his encircling walls of fire.

With a thunderous crack, the stones broke free of each other.

Cascading into the room, the stones brought with them an avalanche of debris. Glass, heavy beams, and the splintered wood of broken wall cabinets all crashed and spilled across the floor, suffocating the fire beneath it.

The stones rolled and rumbled over each other as if in a race. A choking, billowing cloud of dust added to the confusion.

Small chunks clattered around Beth's feet, symbols of how close she had come to being struck by the heavier pieces.

The way they had fallen, though, helped her see what had happened more clearly than Foley. The dust clouds had wafted out either side of what looked like a bridge of rubble, stretching over an avenue of dancing flames.

It was a bridge leading to a bright, clear day beyond the burning building. The day was ridiculously normal and peaceful.

Beth stepped onto the crude crossing and sprinted across it.

She giggled with relief. The wall had fallen so perfectly it had almost been magical, as if she had been helped by Galilee–

Galilee!

He was still unconscious! Still under the table and in the middle of the fire!

She hesitated, looking back into the fire as she wondered how she could rescue him.

Then she saw Foley languidly stepping through the flames towards her.

Water! She could sense the presence of water!

It was water she hadn't been able to draw on previously because it had lain outside her range of influence. But now that she had moved, she could feel that more water was available if she would only draw nearer to it.

She ran farther along the rubble bridge, leaping over what remained of the wall.

In the yard, she kept on running, bending slightly to let Foal down to the ground as gently as she could. She hoped the poor creature's good legs would be able to bear its weight.

She ignored Foal's whimpering, just as she ignored the panicked neighing and dull lowing of horses and cows that had smelled and feared the fire.

Her full attention was on the presence of the water. She was working out how much she would need. Working out how much more water was coming into her range as she ran.

Then she turned, her arms outstretched. She called on the water collected in the gutters, drains, butts and troughs surrounding the stable.

The water rose into the air, coming together as a vast plume that made even Foley stop and look up in awe.

Cresting as a curling wave, it fell down towards Foley as a tsunami.

Foley casually met it with his own creation, created out of nothing but a rearranging of atoms. It emanated from his hands as a rolling, swirling barrier of fire. It easily generated enough heat to turn the water to steam before it fell any farther.

But the water didn't fall any farther.

It curled back up into the air, splitting into multiple spouts. They swerved around the edges of the flaming wall, soaring over a triumphantly grinning Foley.

They came together once again as they fell, drenching the fires still consuming the farmhouse.

Just as Beth had intended all along.

*

'Missed!' Foley chuckled, giving Beth a sarcastic bow.

Immediately, he sent jets of flames flying through the air towards Beth.

At the last moment, as Beth vainly ducked, the plumes of fire wheeled off to one side.

It left her feeling scorched, but alive.

'So did you!'

'Did I?' Foley grinned archly.

Behind Beth, the wailing from the animals was suddenly more urgent and terrified.

Spinning round, she realised that Foley had deliberately directed his flames at the stables and cowsheds. His flames had instantly set them ablaze.

Water! She needed more water!

Gerry and Heddy were already rushing towards the furiously blazing buildings, a whimpering Foal pathetically limping after them.

Heddy, being familiar with the farm, was the one giving directions. She had obviously snapped out of her trance; whether that was because the spell had worn off, or because it could be broken by urgent situations, Beth couldn't be sure. After all, she had only instinctively cast the spell rather than considering its conditions.

Beth knew for certain, however, that Heddy and Gerry would need help rescuing all the petrified animals.

She began to run again, her mind focused on identifying a fresh source of water.

'Run, run, poor, pathetic Annie!' Foley laughed uproariously. 'All this compassion! You're no longer fit to hold your role! Admit it, Annie!'

_Listen to him mocking you! I can_ create _the water for you, you silly girl! Out of nothing. Just like Argothoth did with the fire!_

'How?' Beth snapped. 'How do I do it?'

As she ran, Beth directed small fountains of water onto the flames. She was drawing it up from where it had steadily collected in discarded metal and plastic containers towards the rear of the buildings.

Not you; me! I need more control!'

What little effect the water had on the blaze was immediately counteracted by another blast of roaring flame.

This time, the fire seemed to come from nowhere rather than emanating from Foley.

Beth glanced behind her, to see if Foley had moved. He was still unhurriedly following her, somehow seeming larger than ever.

It was like he was growing, growing even as Beth studied him. His skin appeared to be stretching painfully.

Yet Foley chuckled wickedly, as if he hadn't noticed anything unusual.

'Admit it Annie,' he roared. 'Your time is over! You're too weak. I shall take your place! As you know I've always wanted to do!'

He's right! We're not strong enough to take him on like this!

As more water came within her range, lying within yet another scattering of discarded containers, Beth once again dragged it up into the air. She sprayed it over the worst areas of the fire.

She ducked through an archway cutting through one of the longer buildings, hoping she could grab a few minutes when she would be out of Foley's sight.

It would give her time to think.

Chuckling at such obvious desperation, Foley launched a vast, blazing ball towards her.

It careered through the archway, the flames rolling and turning back on themselves as it struck the walls and ceiling.

Beth leapt out into the open, throwing herself to the ground. She scattered water from a nearby ditch over her as a protective layer.

The muddy water hissed, steamed and evaporated. The fire roared over Beth's back.

The flames hurtled across the field, setting the ditch's thick hedgerow alight.

Quick, while Argothoth can't see us! He's not taken full control yet. Letting me have more control can save us!

Farther along the line of blazing sheds, a sweating, smoke-stained Gerry and Heddy were forcefully dragging out petrified horses and cows.

As Beth rose to her feet and padded farther into the field, she silently cursed herself.

She had now endangered her friends by getting Foley to follow her out to this side of the buildings.

She had to defeat him, no matter what.

'Okay – so what happens to me if I say yes? If I allow it?'

You? You won't even notice the difference! You'll just have more power than you ever imagined possible!

'So what do I do to–'

Beth was interrupted by a thunderous roar of fire.

Flames turned and spun like a condensed sun within the confines of the archway. Foley appeared from the midst of this raging inferno, calmly strolling, as if determined to make a theatrical entrance.

He was demonstrating the ease with which he was toying with her life.

'You're running out of water Annie! And let's face it, water is all you can control these days, I'm afraid. Oh no, wait – _you're_ the one who's afraid!'

Even as he walked free of the blazing entrance, he allowed the flames to continue to envelop and wrap around him.

He had grown in size, and in power, within a matter of minutes.

He was now so tall that his skin should have split and shredded. But it appeared to be a part of the fire itself, waving and swirling as if it were beginning to lose its physical substance.

Beth! Let me have more control! It's our only chance!

'Okay, I – arrrggghhhh!'

She screamed in disgust and horror as she was splattered by chunks of molten, burning flesh.

A whole section of Foley's face flew past her ear.

His grossly overstretched body had finally reached a point where it couldn't take any more growth. It had split, exploded, disintegrated.

A huge, grotesquely muscled creature now stood where Foley had been.

Its muscles twisted and twirled as if they were an amalgamation of flame and flesh.

What passed for a skin was lava-like, a blood-red viscous fluid flowing beneath a cracked, continually moving crust.

The head was a small-planet's molten core, the features formed from broken layers of shifting, blackened ash.

'See Annie?' he boomed. 'At last my power is immeasurably greater than yours!'

Beth sprung to her feet. As part of her movement, she lithely twisted around and ran.

'"You won't even notice the difference," you said!' she gasped furiously at Lynese.

_Oh, so you'd much prefer it if we_ both _died?_

'You were going to sacrifice me to save yourself? Wow, if you're a good spirit, what the heck are the really bad ones like?'

Well, I'm afraid you're about to find out!

A massive wall of fire exploded into life just in front of her.

Its base hovered just above the furrowed ground, the flames needing no fuel to burn. It was as thickly impenetrable and rose higher than a line of closely planted leylandii trees.

Beth whirled around. Foley – no, _not_ Foley; it wasn't Foley anymore, it was _Argothoth_ – was casually striding towards her. The flames around him cavorted hypnotically.

Beth glanced apprehensively off to where she had last seen Gerry and Heddy herding the livestock. Thankfully, they were nowhere to be seen.

They've gone back inside, she reasoned, to try and rescue the rest of the herd. They're probably safer in there than out here.

Perhaps, once he's finished with me, he'll spare them.

But didn't she have one last chance?

'Hew, Hew! Come to me!' she cried as loudly as she could.

Argothoth came to a halt. Was that surprise on his face? Amusement?

Beth could sense the sword's struggle to pull itself free from the stone it was embedded in. She felt the air vibrate.

She thought, maybe, that she could even hear the air quivering.

Or was it Hew's pulsating blade singing in sorrow?

Even Hew can't help us now girl!

*

# Chapter 49

Argothoth was moving towards Beth once again.

'Annie!' He spoke with a mock tenderness. 'You can't even control a young girl!'

Told you!

'Oh just shut it, can't you?'

'You? But...but what are _you_ doing here?'

Argothoth was no longer looking at Beth.

He was looking behind her.

He was looking up, looking up at something that soared even higher than his own wall of flames.

*

Beth turned to see what had caught Argothoth's attention.

But the incredible heat of the flames distorted everything around them in a trembling, whirling haze.

Her own eyes added to the problem; they were out of her control, rapidly-blinking and watering no matter how hard she tried to focus.

An agonised shriek rang out behind her.

Turn around girl! We have to see this!

But by the time Beth had obeyed Lynese, it was too late to see what had happened.

There was no sign of Argothoth.

Unless you counted the small pile of black ash that had collected in one of the furrows.

*

'What the heck's going on Beth?'

Hearing the voice behind her, Beth whirled around.

(She was doing a lot of whirling around these days, she realised.)

Where the wall of flames had been only a moment before, Drek was standing on top of one of the muddy ridges.

'There were flames everywhere!'

His clothes were splattered with dirt and mud as if he had been running.

He was panting, sweating. Like he had run fast and hard.

Or like he had been fighting. Fighting with an opponent who could control fire.

'Going on?' Beth said innocently.

'Come on Beth! I could see the fire from miles away!'

He looked down at his feet. His brow creased in puzzlement. There was nothing around him that could burn.

'And the farm–'

He looked more baffled than ever as he pointed over towards the farm sheds. They were no longer on fire.

Yes, they were heavily charred, and smoke was curling up from every blackened timber. Yet the flames had vanished, just as the wall of fire had disappeared.

Beth was puzzled too.

Once alight, shouldn't the sheds have kept on burning? It wasn't a blaze like the more magical firewall, which had burned despite there being no wood or other type of fuel to keep it going.

She was thankful, however, that the blaze had finally come to an end. Smoke-blackened and weary, Gerry and Heddy were having less trouble bringing the horses and cows outside into the fields. Most of the animals weren't rearing up and lashing out with their hooves as they had been earlier.

'What is that?'

Drek was curiously moving over towards something he had seen on the ground.

'Is it a...a mask?'

Beth tried to warn him.

'Drek! Don't–'

She was too late.

Drek had realised he was looking at the remains of Foley's face.

*

'How come the farm's no longer burning?'

Kneeling and painfully doubled over, Drek was too busy retching to hear Beth's whispered question. She hoped Lynese was listening. She hoped Lynese would answer.

He sucked all the flames back into himself, hoping he could save himself by drawing on their energy.

'What killed him?'

_Well, you can't see me, obviously; but if you could, this is the point where you and all your friends just give a shrug, rather than politely admitting you don't know. I couldn't see who his killer was – or_ what _it was – either, remember? I only have your useless eyes to see with. It's_ so _debilitating. Now, if you'd let me–_

'Let you change me into a monster like Fol – Argothoth – you mean?'

_I'll have you know_ I'm _extremely beautiful!_

'Yeah, and I'd just be a few chunks of butcher's meat lying around in a field, waiting for some dogs to eat!'

Dogs. The word made her think of Foal.

Poor Foal! The little wolf was standing a long way back from where Gerry and Heddy were still struggling to calm a few of the more unnerved horses. Being a wolf, of course, she would have completely the wrong effect on the already terrified animals.

She looked forlorn and miserable, her head and tail hanging low. She held her injured leg out before her as she limped around.

_Oh don't be silly!_ Lynese was still continuing their conversation. _We wouldn't have to go that far! But if you gave me just a_ little _more control, Beth, I could get rid of that_ awful _hair, give your eyes–_

'My hair? What's wrong with my hair? And my eyes?'

Beth, darling, let's get back into the real world, can we please? Why do you think lover boy's not really interested? Now I could just make subtle changes at first, so he wouldn't realise–

'I've told you I'm not interested in him and – wait a minute! You're just trying to draw my attention away, aren't you? What was that Foley was saying about taking over from you? Didn't he say that?'

Well I can't remember what he said it was all so–

'Shhhuussshh! I wasn't asking you if he _said_ it! What I mean is – why would he want to take over from a mild mannered, innocent little water fay, eh?'

Beth's question was met with a silence she would have thought normal only a few days ago.

'Hey, aren't you going to answer me that, eh?'

_Oh, so you mean, you_ are _asking me now?_

'Don't give me this! You knew full well I was!'

_Well, I suppose we were what, these days, you'd call an_ item _. Get what I'm saying girl? Ohh, this really is terrible, you know? I'm sounding more and more like you with each dreadful day!_

'Quit stalling! You went _out_ with him? With _that_?'

_I'll have you know Argothoth used to be_ amazingly _handsome! Way off_ your _scale dear! But you know, some guys – there I go again! – well, they just let themselves go, don't they? He didn't want to waste his powers, he said, on something so trivial as keeping his looks! Trivial!_

As Beth listened, she glanced over towards the limping, sorrowful Foal. If all Argothoth's flames had gone out, if her own calming charm or whatever it was over Heddy had faded, why was Foal still a wolf?

Why was that spell still working? If, indeed, it was a spell, rather than something more akin to the way Solly and the soldier had split to become those hideous creatures.

Yet nothing similar had happened to Foal, from what she had seen.

And what of the other dogs she had seen transforming into wolves? – hadn't they changed back almost immediately?

If she gave Lynese just a little more control, could she transform Foal back into a lovable little sausage dog? Could she cure the burnt leg?

Naturally, he was upset when I said it was over. Obviously far more upset than I'd thought he was! You know how they want to get back at you when their pride's hurt, don't you? Oh, perhaps you don't.

'And you didn't think to let me know this? That a guy who's like some walking weapon of mass destruction might want to "get back at" us?'

Me _darling, not_ you _! I_ do _have a private life you know!_ _Or at least, I_ did _._ _Ooh, look – here comes lover boy!_

Galilee, grimacing as he rubbed the back of his sore head, had appeared beneath the burnt arch. He was heading towards Beth, glaring warily even though she greeted him with a bright smile.

She had been on the point of running over to him – but his glare, combined with Lynese's sarcastic referrals to 'lover boy', made her decide against it.

Besides, Foal had spotted her and was now excitedly bounding across the furrowed field towards her.

Look, let me start with your complexion at least and–

'Complexion? There's nothing wrong with my complexion!'

Darling, perhaps we'd better start with correcting that atrocious eyesight of yours!

'Shuuuusssshh!'

Galilee looked from left to right, his puzzled scowl changing into a curious frown when he spotted the still retching Drek.

'Why? What's wrong?' he whispered back, presuming Beth's shushing had been directed at him.

'No, not you Galilee; Lynese! I'm telling Lynese to be quiet!'

Beth sat down with relief on one of the higher ridges as Foal rushed into her arms.

After leaping up to lick Beth's face, the tiny wolf made herself comfortable in Beth's lap. She whimpered with pleasure under the expert caresses of Beth's hands.

'Lynese? Oh yeah, your "water fay".' He said it like it was something he found very hard to believe. 'You have to _talk_ to her?'

See what I mean? Even lover boy allows this Machal enough leeway to hold a proper, civilised conversation!

'Yeah, well,' Beth replied to Galilee. 'Do you think I should allow her a little more control so we can, well, talk to each other silently like you and Machal?'

'Hmn, no. It's probably for the best if you don't, for the moment. At least until we've got a better idea who this Lynese is.'

'Ha, see, smart ass!'

Galilee glowered.

'No, no, not _you_!' Beth spluttered urgently.

She was finding it hard to concentrate, as Lynese was raging furiously.

Who this Lynese is? What a cheek! So it's okay for him and Machal, but not for us? Don't you realise he's also insulting you, darling? Making out you're not big and strong enough like him to keep everything under control?

'Lynese – she keeps badgering me to let her have a little more control!' Beth added.

'Are you sure she can't read your thoughts already? She might, you know, be making out she can't; just so you're not on guard about what you're thinking.'

He doesn't trust me at all, does he?

Beth thought back to something Lynese had said earlier.

'I don't think she can. She said she thought she'd be able to do it, but she can't. It's just my emotions she reads, I reckon.'

'Hmn, well she would say that, wouldn't she?'

Galilee's puzzled frown had returned as he scanned the smouldering buildings. Even though the sheds were no longer burning, Heddy and Gerry were still busy leading out panicked animals and letting them loose in the fields.

We just can't please him, can we darling?

'What _happened_ here?' Galilee sounded mystified. 'Just what _did_ you do to defeat the odrad? – I presume you _did_ defeat it? And who _is_ that?'

Galilee asked the last question as Drek finally rose to his feet. The boy's face was pale, his eyes bloodshot. His lips were still dripping with saliva until he gave them a wipe on the back of his sleeve.

Ah, picking on your friend too now is he?

'Shuussshhhhh!' Beth was getting irritated.

It was like having a constantly nagging, endlessly berating conscience – although your conscience usually tried to keep you on the straight and narrow rather than persuading you to try stepping off it!

Galilee gave Beth yet another baffled look until it dawned on him that she was once again attempting to keep Lynese quiet.

'Well, Galilee,' Beth said, 'taking your second question first, that's Drek. He's a friend of mine. And yes, I defeated the odrad. With a sword.'

Beth couldn't tell if his suddenly arching eyebrows suggested that he was impressed or found her answer hard to believe.

'And the fire?' He stared back once again at the heavily charred buildings. 'What happened there?'

'Ah, all that was caused by Foley, who–'

_'Another_ friend, eh? And he did all this?'

This time there was an accusatory tone to his questions.

Beth ignored him.

'A friend who _transformed_ into this...well, whatever it was. It was called Argothoth.'

'Argothoth?' Now his eyes widened, a blend of surprise and apprehension. 'And he _transformed_ into him? Sheesh!'

He glanced at the clumps of flesh scattered across the field as if for the first time. He pursed his lips as it dawned on him what they were.

'You know him? You know Argothoth?' Beth asked.

'I know _about_ him. He's not quite up there with the real fire overlords – the ones we think of as gods like Vulcan and Mixcoatl. But yeah, he's important and powerful enough to cause us trouble. So where is he now? What made him take off?'

Yet again, Galilee scanned all the areas around him, this time searching for any signs of Argothoth.

'Well, dead, I suppose. I think.'

'You think?'

'Well, he was here one minute. Then, _poof_ , gone the next!'

'Poof? _Argothoth_ went "poof"? Just like that?'

_He doesn't_ believe _you darling!_

'Yeah, just like that!' Beth snapped back, annoyed by Galilee's disbelief.

She almost woke up Foal, who had fallen asleep in her lap.

'How? How on earth did you defeat him?'

'Well if you must know, Mr Know-it-all, I didn't! It was something behind me. Argothoth looked up at it, said something like, "What are you doing here?" – and he ended up like that.'

She pointed towards the small pile of ashes.

_'Something_ behind you?'

Galilee sounded more doubtful and suspicious than ever.

'You don't trust me, do you? Even when I just nearly ended up like a hog roast. Even when I saved _you_ back there–' she waved a hand in the rough direction of the farmhouse – 'you've still got to make out I'm hiding something from you!'

'Really? You saved me?'

He rubbed a hand through his hair like he was embarrassed, chastised.

'I didn't know, sorry. And it's not you that I don't trust; it's Lynese.'

'Oh yeah, who's inside me, right? Which means you _don't_ trust _me_ either. Go on, admit it Galilee! It's like this Argothoth, who nearly killed us all, and all you can be bothered telling me about him is that he's important and powerful. You don't say! Well if that's all you can be bothered telling me about him, I'll just have to ask Lynese about him, won't–'

She bit her tongue. What a stupid, stupid thing to say when she was having a go at him for not trusting her.

'Lynese? What's she know about him?'

'Well, you know; not too much I suppose. She went on, well, I suppose you'd call it a date–'

'A _date_? She was his _lover_?'

'I wouldn't put it _that_ strongly! I said a _date_.'

_That's my girl._ His _lover? Other way round, more like!_

'It figures, I suppose,' Galilee mumbled sourly.

'Figures? What's that supposed to mean?'

'Look, okay, I'm sorry that we're still going on about this Beth. But look, please; I'm just trying to make sense of how someone as powerful as Argothoth could be beaten so easily.'

Now he was staring hard at Drek, who had begun vomiting again.

'When did your friend show up?'

'Drek? Oh, it was just after Argothoth had – wait, you're not suggesting that _Drek_ –' She giggled. ' _Drek_ couldn't have done it!'

'Just like a few days ago, Beth, you couldn't have defeated an odrad. Just like your other friend – Foley? – couldn't have controlled fire.'

'Well yeah – but _Drek_?'

She looked over towards Drek.

Drek tried to give Beth a wan smile. He tried to get to his feet again. But he was so light headed from his painful retching that he wobbled on the furrowed earth.

He slithered down the loose soil of a ridge and fell.

'It could be an act.' Galilee scowled doubtfully once more.

'Some act!'

Waking up, Foal slipped out of Beth's lap.

Her leg was whole once again. There wasn't the slightest sign of a burn or injury.

Beth smiled in pleasant surprise.

Galilee was also surprised.

He glared suspiciously at the happily gambolling wolf.

He glared suspiciously at Beth.

*

# Chapter 50

'Look, Lynese _cured_ people! Didn't I already say that?'

Beth didn't want her happiness over Foal's recovery spoilt by Galilee's suspicions.

'Curing people, curing wolves – they're different things, Beth.'

'Lynese cured by sharing her soul. That sounds to me like the kind of cure that could work for animals as well as people.'

Galilee didn't look convinced. He nodded anyway, in reluctant agreement.

'Okay, Beth. But we're still missing the most important thing here; which is, what happened to Argothoth, right?'

'We could ask Gerry and Heddy. They might have seen something I didn't.'

The sweet smell of smouldering timbers still hung in the air.

It was still unnerving the animals who had been caught in the worst of the fire. Beth's friends, blackened and sweat-stained, were calming the more skittish, as their nervousness only added to the edginess of the others.

'Good idea.' Galilee headed off towards Gerry and Heddy. 'We could do with bringing the horses together anyway. We need to take them with us.'

'Horses?' Beth sprinted after Galilee.

'For getting around quickly of course. Things like cars aren't going to be running for much longer, Beth.'

*

They hadn't seen anything.

They had mainly been rushing around inside the barns.

Whenever they were outside, Gerry and Heddy explained, it was always while leading out a terrified horse or cow.

Each animal needed an awful lot of careful handling and controlling. If they hadn't been careful, they could have ended up being struck by a flying hoof.

Beth cringed when Galilee told Heddy he would 'tidy everything up at the farmhouse'. It was such an easy-going term, when everyone knew he meant he would take care of her father's body.

But rather than reacting badly, Heddy simply nodded. With a brief 'Thank you', she turned back to corralling the horses.

Beth was both surprised and envious; she wished she could accept the death of her mum so matter-of-factly.

*

Leaving a partially recovered Drek to help Gerry and Heddy gather the horses together (they had all agreed to avoid going anywhere near the area where Foley had 'disappeared'), Galilee and Beth headed back towards the farmhouse.

'One of your spells, I take it?'

Galilee eyed Beth warily. When she appeared mystified by his comment, he added, 'Heddy, I mean; she's under some sort of extremely effective charm, I reckon. Unless she's one of the most hard-hearted people I've ever met. Which I doubt very much.'

Beth shrugged.

'I don't know how I cast it. I thought it had worn off, too, when I saw she'd come out of the trance. She's moving around normally – well, apart from, as you say, not registering that her dad's dead.'

'You ask me, she knows all right. She's just come to terms with it amazingly quickly; blanked out a lot of it too, it seems.'

'How could she handle it if she didn't blank it out? He died – well, pretty horribly.'

Beth shuddered as she recalled the scenes with the odrad.

'And she lost her mum only a few months back. It took her a while to even begin to start, well, you know – getting on with her life once again. Absorbed herself in her schoolwork. Helping her dad run the farm.'

With a twirl of his hands, Galilee conjured up a concentrated whirlwind, directing it towards the crumpled husks of the soldiers still lying in the yard.

The swirling air picked them up, setting them on their feet and their crumpled, shaky legs.

As if Galilee had given them the breath of life, they began to walk, aimlessly, unsteadily. Then, abruptly, the air around them opened like curtains revealing a dark, red world beyond.

They stepped though into this new world.

Suddenly, they were gone, the curtains of air closing behind them.

'Whe...where have they gone?' Beth asked nervously, thinking of the strange world where she had seen and talked to her mother.

'They're soldiers, soldiers who have affectively died in battle. That means there's no peace for them just yet; they can be called upon to fight again.'

'Fight again? How's that possible.'

'So much is possible now that was impossible only hours ago Beth.'

Before they had even reached the remains of the farmhouse, Galilee's deftly controlled air torrents began to dig out a shallow, man-sized hole in the earth.

Another eddying current curled beneath Farmer Hayart's body, lifting it slightly off the ground.

'And...and Heddy's father? Will he be called on to fight again?'

Beth shuddered uncomfortably at the thought.

A bed of churning air bore the farmer's body across the strewn rubble.

'No, I don't think so. He didn't really die in battle, did he? He'll return to the one spirit.'

As had happened with the husks of the soldiers, the current carefully set Heddy's father on his feet. The farmer moved robotically, aiming blankly for the curtains of air opening before him.

Then he stepped though into the dark world waiting for him beyond the blue curtains.

'The one spirit?'

As the curtains of air closed behind Heddy's father, Galilee used a series of other currents to refill the hole with the removed soil.

'He loses the individuality his spirit had gained, I'm afraid. But he'll be at peace.'

At peace? Beth was confused.

Why hadn't her mother passed on to become a part of this 'one spirit'?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a final, strong blast of air that effortlessly picked up one of the wrecked farmhouse's stones.

Placed on top of the mound of soil, it made a crude gravestone.

'Thanks Galilee; I think Heddy would appreciate this. Even though she seems to be taking it all okay at the moment.'

'He would have risen and gone to the beyond even without my help eventually. I just thought that this might help Heddy; if she ever asks what happened to her father.'

Beth stared blankly at the makeshift grave.

Galilee noticed the sadness in her eyes, the nervousness in her voice.

'You're thinking of your own mum, right?'

'Uh uh,' Beth nodded sorrowfully. 'You know, it's awful, but I'm almost jealous of the way Heddy's handling it all. If I knew how to cast a charm like that on myself, I'd do it.'

'If it helps, I think your mum would be glad it was her who died, not you.'

'Yeah.' She even managed a pained laugh. 'She doesn't seem too bothered where she is now anyway!'

'Where she is _now_?'

Galilee's doubtful, anxious attitude had returned.

'Well, remember how Lynese said I'd see mum again? She was right – and you were wrong!'

Beth had spotted the sword, buried to the hilt in the stonewall. Gingerly making her way across the debris, she drew nearer to it.

She wondered if it would be possible to retrieve it by carefully chipping away at the stone.

'You _saw_ her? You're sure of that?'

Galilee was more apprehensive than ever.

'I _talked_ to her, Galilee!'

'Beth, are you crazy?' His eyes were wide with fury. 'How many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn't be using Lynese's powers until we know who she is? _What_ she is!'

Beth ignored him.

She placed her hand on the sword's handle. She placed her other hand against the wall, bracing herself.

Tensing her arm, her whole body, she pulled back on the sword with all the strength she had.

The blade slipped cleanly, effortlessly, from the stone.

It seemed to sing, to whisper.

To shout in joy.

Beth proudly held and admired its glittering steel.

It wasn't a sword.

It was a part of her.

*

# Chapter 51

'A water fay, eh? What sort of water fay has a sword like that, Beth?'

Galilee drew closer to Beth, his eyes narrowed and probing.

'Lynese said a girl had to protect herself in those days.'

'With a _magical_ sword?'

'The Lady of the Lake? Didn't she have a _magical_ sword?'

She emphasised 'magical' the same way Galilee had, gently mocking him.

'I can't recall reading that she used it like Conan the Barba–'

'Machal? You're Machal, yes?'

A man was confidently striding towards them.

Beth recognised him. He was the young Asian she had seen in the garage shop.

The man she could have sworn Solly had shot and killed.

*

'Lord Machal! I've ridden far to be with you!'

An exhausted, overweight carthorse was lazily munching the grass in one of the fields behind the approaching shopkeeper.

He seemed younger, much younger, than Beth remembered him appearing to be in the garage shop.

He bowed low, with a flourish and a beaming smile.

'Khalid Aziz, at your service my lord!'

'And...who...?' Galilee frowned quizzically at the newcomer.

'Ah, _Atalicas_ – it is Atalicas who made me aware of your calling!

'Calling? I _called_ you?'

Beth sensed that Galilee was trying to hide how deeply troubled he was by this information.

He obviously didn't seem to be aware of any 'calling' he had sent out.

Could it be that he's not as fully in control of Machal as he likes to think he is?

*

'Surely you must be aware of your calling, my lord? Atalicas tells me you're calling everyone in the south to your banner.'

'Drop the "my lord" bit,' Galilee said irritably. 'And all this cod Shakespearean stuff.'

'Shakespearean?'

Khalid said it like Galilee was criticising his normal way of speaking. Beth chuckled.

'I recognise you.'

Carefully stepping over the uneven stone, Beth unconsciously held out the gleaming sword before her.

'You were at the garage; the garage where a frien – where a man, er, shot you. Didn't he?'

Khalid eyed her guardedly. For a moment it seemed as if he wouldn't answer her.

Seeing that Galilee appeared to accept her, however, he brusquely said, 'Oh, he most certainly did!'

As he offered no further explanation, Beth felt a little stupid as she found herself saying, 'Then...he didn't kill you; obviously.'

Ending with a grateful sigh, she slipped her sword into one of the many metal-reinforced loop decorations on her dress.

'Oh, but he most certainly would have killed me! It was a most perfectly good shot! Straight to the heart!'

'Then... Atalicas saved you?' Galilee said it as if he were pondering how Khalid's magical spirit would have saved his life.

'The gun shot, the threat of death, awoke Atalicas!'

Khalid used the kind of emphasis he would probably use to recite ancient tales of heroes and gods.

'In the blink of an eye, he moved me off to one side! In the blink of another eye, once the bullet had struck the wall with a mighty bang, he moved me back to where I had been! Then he made me fall, as if I had been shot! Trickery – that, I believe, is what Atalicas is famous for!'

Galilee chuckled.

'Trickery and a great many other useful things, Khalid!'

He turned to Beth.

'In legend, Atalicas is Autolycus, Prince of Thieves; but he never really needed his famous helmet of invisibility to hide away.'

He gave Khalid an admiring smile. 'No wonder we never felt your presence!'

Presence?

Beth recalled that Galilee had said something earlier about sensing a presence; that was, after all, how he had been able to find her.

Yet she couldn't sense anything unusual, either in Khalid or Galilee.

Just as she had failed to sense any 'presence' in Foley.

Perhaps she _was_ holding Lynese too much in control.

Perhaps that's why she couldn't sense the presence of a magical being in the same way Galilee could.

*

There was a whinnying and a clopping of hooves as Gerry and Heddy approached the farmhouse, leading the horses they had managed to round up.

Foal kept way off to one side, and downwind too, so as not to unnerve the horses any more than they had already suffered.

Drek stayed on the edges of the herd, his expression flipping between happiness and a frightened wariness of being kicked or violently nudged by the briskly trotting horses.

Galilee observed Drek with undiminished suspicion.

'Galilee; about Drek.' She shook her head. 'He didn't do it, honestly. Believe me!'

'You said something came up behind you, right?' Galilee growled in answer. 'And, voila, he shows up just after.'

'Well, what about our new friend here?'

With a sharp nod of her head Beth drew Galilee's attention to a surprised looking Khalid.

'He just suddenly showed up too, didn't he?'

Galilee spun around angrily. 'I get a sense of _something_ odd out there around this Drek. Khalid; can you sense anything?'

Khalid's face creased in concentration.

'As you say, my lor – Machal, there's _something_. But it's not plain, not easy to read.'

His gaze switched towards Beth.

'But that's what I find with your friend here too!'

Galilee grinned for a moment before becoming serious once more.

'Hmn, it's puzzling. Someone powerful enough to defeat Argothoth – and yet there's no real sense of a presence around here!'

'Argothoth? Argothoth has been defeated?' Khalid let out an impressed, low whistle.

Foal rushed up alongside Beth, leaping up against a leg as if she were still a small dog rather than a medium-sized wolf.

Beth giggled and stroked her head, treating her as if she were indeed still a cute little dachshund.

Khalid's eyes widened, taking this all in as if it only confirmed his initial doubts about Beth.

'I know this might sound ridiculous,' Gerry growled as she drew nearer, 'but there's a whole heap of people coming across the fields towards us.'

*

# Chapter 52

'Mount up Beth!'

Galilee hoisted himself up onto the bare back of one of the healthier, younger horses as if he had been born in a different age.

Beth hesitated.

Heddy, having been raised on the farm, swung up onto a horse as easily as if she were mounting a bike. Even Drek had clumsily mounted one of the smaller horses, using one of the larger pieces of rubble as a set of steps.

But Beth had decided that, like Gerry, she would pointedly insist that she would much prefer walking, thank you very much.

'I've never ridden before.'

'Yes you have. How do you think you used to get around when you were busy wielding that sword of yours? Mount up!'

Khalid cupped his hands in an offer to help her up onto the nearest horse's back.

Beth smiled gratefully, but her gaze was drawn once again to Gerry. Gerry's arms were resolutely crossed, a bunch of reins aggressively crumpled in each hand.

The horses gathered behind her like supporters of her inflexible stance.

'She doesn't need that, Khalid,' Galilee insisted. 'Mount up Beth! We need to see who these people are – now!'

Khalid swung up onto a horse as naturally as Beth would have expected him to slide into a car.

'What about the horse you arrived on?' Beth asked, if only to delay her attempt to mount up.

'This looks a better one than the one I stole!' Khalid grinned mischievously.

Galilee swung his mount around, pointing it towards the field where the horse Khalid had arrived on was still contently munching the grass.

'We can't afford to waste any horse,' he said, spurring his own horse forward with a short jab of his heels. 'I'll fetch it.'

'You stole it?'

Without even being conscious of what she was doing, Beth grabbed a clump of the horse's main and effortlessly pulled herself up onto its back.

'Why not steal a car? It would've been quicker.'

'As my lor – Machal obviously realises, cars, trucks, automobiles; they will all soon be useless. Soon only magic will keep them going. It's amazing that things like the spark plugs kept working for so long. Perhaps, without being aware of it, their drivers were keeping them going by simply willing and expecting them to work.'

Just as she had handled Hew so ridiculously naturally, Beth found that she relished being on horseback.

With a slight clenching of her knees or heels, or a sharp tug on the reins (all of which Heddy had managed to rescue from an area of the sheds only partially damaged by the fire), she could command her mount to turn first this way then that, even to playfully rear up on its hind legs.

Galilee returned with Khalid's carthorse, signalling that he wanted everyone to follow him as he headed towards the burnt-out archway.

Beth only needed to press lightly with a knee to coax her mount into a casual, relaxing trot.

Clearing the archway, they immediately saw one of many groups of people descending on the farm. Like them, they were generally a mix of people on horseback or on foot. Some had carts, drawn either by other horses or even cows.

'They come to you, my Lord Machal!' Khalid asserted proudly. 'They, too, have heard the calling!'

*

As Galilee and Beth's own band moved away from the farm, the crowds who had been heading towards it now changed direction to account for their movement.

Some of these groups were on a parallel course, passing through the fields to their left and right. Others were behind them, either skirting around the farm or walking directly through the farmyard.

The groups ahead of them turned sharply and slowed down, slowly converging on either side of their own, smaller band.

No one shouted or even spoke. No one appeared willing to draw too close for the moment.

'What's happening?'

Beth gently spurred her mount until she was riding alongside Galilee.

'If they've come because you're calling them, why aren't they coming any closer?'

'Machal.' Galilee spoke the name of his own inner spirit grimly, perhaps even angrily. 'As part of his calling, he's now warning them to hold off from greeting us just a little longer.'

'They look like they don't know what to do next; like they're wondering if they should really have bothered coming here.'

They were surrounded by a host of troubled, uneasy faces.

It was an eerie gathering, a growing rabble of an army, stolidly marching along under a cloud of nervous silence.

'And who can blame them?' Galilee sounded frustrated. 'Machal shouldn't have called them without informing me. Now we have to resolve our differences; not that he's left me much choice. I'll have to greet them all soon, as soon as I'm ready.'

'So...you're saying you haven't got Machal under control, like you thought you had?'

Galilee whirled angrily on Beth. 'Haven't I told you we have to be careful? That it isn't easy?'

'And it's easier to get angry with me rather than with Machal or yourself, obviously!'

Beth irritably drew her mount away from Galilee's.

'Beth; I'm sorry!' Galilee shouted after her.

He urged his horse on to follow her.

'Look,' he said as he drew alongside her, 'yes, I'm sorry. I'm in a furious mood and I shouldn't have taken it out on you.'

'That's all right.' She smiled. 'I understand what it's like to feel you're not in control of your own body anymore.'

'Yeah, that was a bit of a shock for me too, to be honest; I admit that. He should have waited until we were ready. But he says we're short of time. We didn't have time to argue about it anymore.'

'You've been _arguing_?'

He hung his head in embarrassment.

'Fortunately, we agree on most things, so arguments don't really come up.'

He raised his head, turning it from side to side to look over his growing, ragtag medieval army.

'We agreed, too, that this would have to happen at some point. They would have to rally around someone if we're going to make a proper fight of it.'

'So, what's the problem? Here they are.'

'But it's the calling Machal has sent out Beth. He says it should only be our followers who have heard and responded to it. But, of course, he's not in full control of his powers because _I'm_ still _mainly_ in control.'

He emphasised this point, like he was trying to reassert his temporarily slipped right to authority.

'You're saying, I think, that it might not be such a perfect bit of magic after all?'

Galilee nodded. 'So he can't be sure that _others_ haven't sensed it too.'

Beth observed the edgy faces of the converging people with growing alarm.

'So, now you're saying that some those people out there could be here to do us harm, right?'

Galilee nodded again.

*

# Chapter 53

The people gathering around them were a mix of ages and races.

Despite this, even the oldest amongst them seemed to be keeping pace with everyone else.

Ah, of course, Beth thought; just as Farmer Hayart had seemed a little younger than when Beth had last seen him, just as Heddy had appeared a little older – and just, too, as the hospitals had emptied of people who suddenly found themselves apparently miraculously cured – they would no longer be suffering the aches and stiffness of age.

Besides, wouldn't their inner, magical spirit help them out where necessary?

Would there be magical beings from Chinese, Japanese, African and other worldwide legends amongst them? Surely, yes, there would be.

In which case the battles to come would be different to the ones that originally took place all those thousands of years ago.

'This squat of yours,' Galilee abruptly growled irritably. 'I take it it's in a disused farm – and there are lots of barn, sheds, that kind of thing?'

'Yeah, plenty of them, though in a bit of a poor state.'

Beth could guess why Galilee was asking about the sheds.

'They could be fixed up though, with a few bits of wood and what have you. Would be pretty crowded, with all this lot; but they could fit in at a push.'

Galilee smiled, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

'Good. We'll head there then.'

Abruptly, everyone around them smiled too.

Some of the younger ones actually began to gaily skip along. Horses were nudged into a sprightly trot. With a snap of the reins, carts speeded up.

There were busts of laughter, strings of song.

The atmosphere had completely changed. Now it was more like a crowd heading towards a popular fair.

Galilee and Machal had obviously come to some form of agreement. Everything was fine between them once more.

*

There was a rushed clomping of hooves.

A short, squat man, incongruously wearing a smart business suit, galloped up and pulled his horse alongside Galilee.

He offered his hand, greeting Galilee and introducing himself in a loud, barked mumble. He tried to keep a large cigar in the corner of his mouth as he spoke.

'My Lord Machal! Rie-card Folster – Beldeg!'

Despite the cigar tightly clamped between his teeth, he smiled hugely. It was the smile, Beth surmised, that he used when he was about to propose some huge financial deal.

As if he could read Beth's thoughts, he turned sharply towards her. His smile abruptly transformed into a distrustful scowl.

Taking the hint that she wasn't wanted, Beth allowed her mount to drop back, leaving Folster and Galilee to talk.

'Rie-card?' she sulkily mumbled to herself. 'Bet that's just the way he pronounces "Richard".'

And I bet he does too! Quite ironic, though, don't you think, that such a pompous little man has ended up as a walking prison for goody two-shoes?

'Goody two-shoes?' Beth kept her voice low, so no one would hear.

Beldeg! Oh, how I used to tire of the fawning descriptions of that tiresome man! Innocence, purity, joy, light! I mean, what sort of man wants to be talked about in those terms, eh?

Another man had approached Galilee, this one thin and tall.

His legs hung low down his horse's sides. Although he was humped forward, his head was still higher than Galilee's.

He introduced himself first as Sahsgintyr, then as Philip Tull. Like Folster, he briefly interrupted his smiling greeting to glower at Beth.

Why _did_ everyone _do_ that?

Had she ever done anything wrong to them?

No!

Was she even _thinking_ of doing anything wrong to them?

No – although, if they keep on glaring at her like that, perhaps she _might_!

*

Out of the corner of her eye, Beth caught a glimpse of Foal forlornly trotting alongside their small group.

Poor Foal! Poor little wolf!

Beth might be distrusted, but at least she could ride amongst everyone else. Foal had to stay way off to one side, to avoid frightening the horses.

And none of the newcomers would draw near to her either, keeping their distance. They observed her with the same distrustful, hateful glares that Beth had to suffer.

'Lynese; is there anything we can do for Foal?'

Once again, she kept her voice low, so no one would hear her.

You mean change her back? Back into a cute little dog? Of course–

'No, no! Nothing so, er, elaborate, thanks!'

The eagerness in Lynese's comment had put Beth on her guard; would this just provide Lynese with another opportunity to gain more control over her? Probably.

'Couldn't _we_ , er, just calm my horse, say? So that Foal could come over here and be with me?'

Why not?

Now there was a definite touch of sarcasm in Lynese's voice.

_It will be so much fun, seeing all the other horse's panicking and bolting as the little wolf makes her way over to you_.

'Okay, okay sarky; so how about _we_ calm the other horses too, eh?'

_Wouldn't it be better if_ we _just placed a calming charm around your little pet? Otherwise, what happens if any other horses come closer to her? Chaos, darling! It would be absolute mayhem, believe me!_

Beth bit her lip. What harm could it do, allowing Lynese just a little more leeway?

'All right. Let's do it!'

Beth didn't even need to call Foal over.

As if the little wolf herself had recognised that something had changed, she gambolled over towards Beth, skilfully darting between the rising and falling legs and hooves of the other horses.

In one supple, fluid motion, she leapt up behind Beth. Then, shifting carefully from leg to leg until she achieved the correct balance, she sat down on the horse's wide rear.

The baleful looks Beth had been receiving before were nothing to the glares directed at her now.

Obviously, having a wolf sitting behind her confirmed everything everyone had already been thinking about her.

*

# Chapter 54

If felt as if hate, loathing, anger and fear were all being physically rained upon Beth. A bombardment of emotional missiles.

Yet through it all she felt the hard, penetrating gaze of Philip Tull.

His face was now almost skeletal in the way the skin had tightened across the bone.

His eyes had grown and darkened. What little hair he'd had was now plastered to his head with the sweat of a furious heat.

'Why's he looking at me like _that_?' Beth hissed fearfully under her breath.

Well, you...

'What do you expect?' Khalid's face was etched with the surprise of someone asked an obvious question.

Beth hadn't realised she had dropped so far back from Galilee that she was now riding alongside him.

She realised immediately, however, that Khalid had assumed she had asked him why she was so disliked.

'What do you think being friends with a wolf signifies?' Khalid said. 'Especially to people who were hunted down by packs as efficiently organised as an army?'

'A wolf that just a few hours ago was nothing more than a pretty little sausage dog?' Beth snorted dismissively.

'In spirit, every dog could be said to be a wolf. But not everyone can or would wish to call that aspect into being!'

She shot him an angry glare.

'For your information, Khalid, I didn't "call it"! Foal changed because we were fighting to save Galilee's life! While you were prancing around on that carthorse you stole!'

'Then it makes no sense, no sense at all!' He shook his head, mystified.

'Why does it make no sense? _What_ makes no sense?'

'That you are feared, that everyone distrusts you! Yet you fight for Galilee!'

'Well, while you're pondering that,' she snapped with a brusque nod towards the still glowering Philip Tull, 'could you let him know that please?'

Although Tull was now surrounded by a number of other riders who had drawn closer to Galilee, he and Folster still tended to monopolise the young boy's attention.

During every pause in their conversation, however, Tull's long body would twist around, snake-like, his bulging eyes fixing on Beth as if he were about to strike.

Beth was amazed when Khalid chuckled.

'I can't see what you find so funny!'

'But, I wonder, can he _help_ what he's doing? It's now in his nature, of course! But it may be he's every bit as surprised by his hate as you are.'

'You know, it may just be me, Khalid, but I don't exactly find that in any way reassuring.'

'I think I heard him say he was SahsginTyr, yes? Can't you sense the connections with legend? Sahsgint, the Saxon name for Tyr, or Tiwaz; the Shining One. A god of the sky, of war, battle, and honour.'

'So he hates me because...what? I don't like war?'

Khalid chuckled mischievously again, his narrowed eyes flicking towards Foal.

'I suspect your little wolf particularly doesn't help endear you to SahsginTyr. He lost a hand to Fenri, who was more wolf than man. Even the dwarves feared Fenri. Even those on his side; well, _especially_ those on his side!'

'How can you know all this? What did you spend all your time doing in that garage shop – reading legends?'

He frowned, puzzled.

'But can't you sense that stories like these are...well, yes, a _part_ of us? Like they're a part of our DNA, our makeup. Passed on from generation to generation! The myths that are trying to make sense of an unbelievable reality that took place all those thousands of years ago. But we have an extra advantage, because we're aware of the reality. So we can now – as I said – see the connections!'

Beth couldn't see the connections.

She couldn't sense the legends that Khalid claimed were flowing through her DNA.

Perhaps she was keeping _too tight a hold_ on Lynese. Perhaps, if she just _somehow loosened the constraints_ just a _little bit_ , she would be able to access all this _inherent knowledge_ without constantly having to ask someone else.

She pulled herself up sharply.

Were these really her thoughts, her thoughts alone? Or was Lynese intruding on – _manipulating_ – her thoughts?

'So, what of him?'

Beth turned her gaze on the stocky Folster as, leaning back in a self-satisfied manner, he drew hard, long and lovingly on his cigar.

'What do you know of Beldeg?'

'Beldeg?' Khalid grinned, like he was about to regale her with his favourite joke. 'That would be gentle and wise Baldur; full of innocence, joy, light!'

Yes, yes! She's heard all this already, thank you!

Beth ignored Lynese's complaining wail.

'He doesn't look gentle or full of innocence to me!'

Riding alongside Galilee, Folster emanated an undoubted air of pride and arrogance.

He rode with his shoulders back, his head held high, his nose and cigar in the air. His laughter was loud and raucous, like he wanted everyone to know that he was regarded as a leader.

Khalid chuckled with satisfaction that Beth had appreciated the irony.

'It happens this way, obviously; sometimes, our inner spirit is at odds with our outer being! Another of life's many mischievous jokes! What troubles it must cause! What turmoil of conscience!'

'And you Khalid?' She eyed him inquisitively. 'Was a similar _joke_ played on you?'

He shrugged nonchalantly.

'What else could I expect, when I'm inhabited by a trickster like Atalicas? But in my case, naturally, the joke was played differently! My mother always said I must be possessed by a wicked spirit, for – unlike my more observant brother who, fortunately, was religious enough for both of us! – I found myself uncomfortably drawn to the pleasures in life. Wine, women, song; the old story, I'm afraid. And a profound disappointment to my parents, of course.'

'Atalicas; he doesn't sound – well, _Indian_.'

'Greek!' Once again, Khalid deflected Beth's rude probing with light laughter. 'My family traces its ancestry back to when Alexander's army marched into India.'

Beth's attention had been drawn once again to the people congregating around Galilee.

They had been joined by a number of women, a smattering of eager-faced girls. The latter glared back at Beth with something more than fear and mistrust; there was a challenge to their stares, jealousy too.

Ignore them, Beth told herself.

Ah, but you can't, can you?

'Of course I can!'

'You can what?' a perplexed Khalid asked, assuming Beth was still talking to him.

'Oh, er, sorry! I have to talk to Lynese – Lynese, the spirit inside me.'

'Ah.' Khalid nodded as if he understood. Despite this, he still held her eyes with a questioning gaze.

_Well, lover boy_ is _a good-looking catch, I suppose. Or can you really ignore that burgundy-haired beauty?_ She's _not making any attempt to hide_ her _interest, I see!_

'Her? She's way too old for him!'

_Ah, so you_ had _noticed her then?_

Once again, Beth sharply observed the woman with the wild, red hair.

Once again, the woman was using every opportunity she had to lightly touch Galilee.

Every chance to laugh and toss her luxurious mass of hair.

Not that her hair needed much help to curl and flare in the wind like an uncontrollable flame. It bounced with a lively flourish with every smoothly-executed rise and fall of her body as she expertly rode her horse.

Even her horse was a remarkably beautiful thoroughbred.

'Hardly the way for a woman of over forty to act, you ask me!'

Admit it Beth! You thought she was nearer thirty until you started searching for faults! And she'll probably get younger, as Galilee gets older!

Beth thought back to how Heddy had appeared older than when she had last seen her. And her father had seemed younger.

She hadn't been mistaken then.

'How much younger? How much older?'

Oh, a wannabe young floozy like our flame-haired siren over there? Thirty, perhaps. Lover boy, being all so serious, so I'm-the-leader-around-here, more like thirty-five.

'Galilee will be _older_?' Beth gasped.

It could be worse. Who's to say our little wildcat won't be more than just a little tempted to give her looks a little help once she realises she can? I'm sure she'd like to transform herself into a delightful little twenty-something, don't you think? Thing is, looking again at that wonderful head of hair – perhaps she's already cottoned on to this, eh? Do you think she might be even older than we think? She could have been sixty before she set off down here for all we know.

'Sixty! That's _gross_!'

Gross? But how, darling? She's not sixty anymore, even if she ever was. And if she wants to be nearer twenty than forty, why it's as simple as me giving you a little help with your own hair and–

'There's nothing wrong with my hair! We've already been though all this!'

Suit yourself darling. Put yourself at a complete disadvantage to your love rival!

'She's not a lov– ahhrrggghh!'

Beth's frustrated outburst startled Khalid. His shocked stare only served to make Beth more furious than ever.

'Why do you hate me?' she snapped at him. 'Why does everyone hate me?'

'Hate? I don't think they hate you. _I_ don't hate you.'

'Okay, but you don't _trust_ me then. Admit it. You don't, do you?'

Khalid paused before answering, as if he were choosing his words carefully.

'It's so hard to tell who you really are. Well, who the person _inside_ you is.'

'That's good, coming from a thief! Someone who's proud to be a thief. Didn't I hear Galilee say you could hide away, like you're invisible?'

'Only for so long; not forever. But...with you, it's hard to get a sense of whether you're ultimately good or bad. There's just a sense, at best, of...confusion. Which is obviously unsettling in these uncertain, dangerous times.'

'Confusion? At best?'

Khalid shrugged. 'There are _hints_ of...of something _evil_ inside you.'

'Evil? She was a water fay, that's all! Yeah, okay, she was on the wrong side at first. Lynese admits that. But she _changed_ sides!'

'Ah.' Khalid said it the way Galilee said it; like he wanted to imply he understood, but he doubted it anyway.

'You've never heard of her, have you? How she tried to save Lyonessee?'

'Lyonessee? Yes, I've heard of the island. But as for this water fay – I'm sorry, I don't know of everyone.'

'So the human encyclopaedia doesn't bother with bothersome little water fay, right?'

Khalid was shocked by Beth's anger.

'Please, if I've upset you, please forgive me. But if you must know, the confusion you cause isn't all down to this side-changing Lynese. Everyone we call human is now actually more spirit than flesh, yes?'

'Yes.' She said it uneasily, unable to work out why he had brought this up.

'But that's just it, you see.'

He sat straight up on his horse, as if he were preparing himself to say something he would rather not.

'I can't sense _anything_ human in you!'

*

# Chapter 55

Real charmer that one, isn't he? Not human! The cheek of it! Perhaps you need my beauty tips more than you – or even I – think darling!

_'Don't_ start on that again!'

Beth had irately spurred her horse forward to draw herself away from Khalid.

'Have you _any_ idea what he might mean by that? That there's nothing human in me?'

Search me, darling. I can't see how it would be possible for you not to be human, frankly.

Beth kept her voice low, as more people from the other groups had gathered around Galilee.

Some had ridden on ahead, at a gallop. They headed towards the squat, as if under some sort of order or request from Galilee to prepare for their arrival there.

If so, Beth wondered how that would go down with her crusty friends; guys on horses telling them that they would have to make room for a small army of new arrivals.

'How come everyone isn't introducing themselves to his majesty?'

Most people were still hanging back, remaining in their own groups. It appeared to Beth that only the self-appointed leaders – the one's on horses, and the finest ones at that – were approaching Galilee.

So, even now, even after all these changes, we still have some people telling others what to do.

_Hierarchy, darling. There's always an hierarchy. You can't just have_ everyone _approaching lover boy now, can you?_

'I can't believe he's suddenly become _so_ bigheaded! He's acting like he really is some sort of king!'

With a clench of her knees, she spurred her mount to draw closer to Galilee.

'Galilee – can I say something, please?'

Beth said it harshly, a demand rather than a request.

Galilee smiled when he saw her, like he was glad, almost relieved, to see her.

'Beth! Sorry if you think I've been ignoring you.'

He gave a wave of a hand, indicating that he wanted the people crowding around him to give him a little space, a little time on his own.

'There's so much to organise and prepare for.'

Although, as requested, the riders surrounding Galilee drew away from him, they obviously felt aggrieved that they had been dismissed so casually.

They glared at Beth with even more revulsion than before.

The flame-haired woman in particular stared at Beth as if she were an intruder who had no right to be there.

'Khalid says I'm not human!' Beth hissed furiously once she thought no one would hear.

Galilee rolled his eyes.

'Yarrkk! That's not exactly the best way to put it!'

'Not the _best_ way to put it? What exactly _is_ the best way to put it? So you're saying I really aren't human!'

'No, no. It's all to do, yet again, with what we can _sense_. Just because it's hard to _sense_ someone's human qualities doesn't mean they're not there.'

'You can't _sense_ my human qualities?'

As her horse manoeuvred around some branches strewn across their path, Beth felt Foal moving against her back.

'So what are you saying? That I'm like this Fenir guy; more wolf than human?'

'Fenri, you mean Fenri. And no, that's not what I'm saying. You're a hard person to read, Beth; but that's what saved you, I reckon. That's what confused the firemen who'd been sent to...well, to kill you.'

'So I should be grateful for that? That they killed my mum instead of me by mistake?'

'I thought we'd agreed that your mum would have preferred it this way?'

'Sure, it's really nice to know that my mum died because people on our side weren't up to the job!'

'Mistakes happen. Especially in wars.'

'Easy for a king to say; not so easy for the people being sent to their deaths.'

'King?'

'Well, that's what you are, isn't it? All these people gathering around you, taking orders. Why did you get me involved if I'm so unimportant? If I'm not even _human_?'

Galilee sighed.

'Once again Beth, the fact that we can't sense human qualities doesn't mean you're not human. Fact is, it's _that_ that made me seek you out. There's something about you that I do sense must be important to us; to the cause. And I'm not a king. I serve King Ardu. Like everyone else here!'

'Ardu? Is he here too?'

'No, he's making his way south. He's gathering more of our people around him. Until he arrives, our people in this area are making their way to me, responding to Machal's call.'

'And this King Ardu; you think he can save us? He can lead us to victory?'

'He's our only chance, if that's what you mean.'

Galilee's eyes were narrowed in concentration.

'You probably know him better as King Arthur.'

*

As they arrived at the squat their numbers swelled. Even more people were descending on the farm from the opposite direction.

It was indeed a miniature army, one that automatically responded to the militaristic discipline swiftly imposed on them.

A number of people were immediately and universally recognised as commanders and section leaders. They had all done this before, thousands of years ago.

Buildings were quickly repaired and made inhabitable with an efficient use of spare wood and metal found lying in the outer buildings.

There was a surprising amount of regular carpentry and construction skills, supplemented with only a judicious utilisation of magic. Galilee had insisted that the use of magic should be kept to a minimum.

'Conserve energy – our own and the energy we draw on – as much as possible. We need to keep as much in reserve as possible in case we come under attack. A huge depletion of energy could draw attention to us; it would make such an attack more likely.'

Soon, people were milling everywhere around the farm as they got to know each other. They chatted excitedly and noisily, either preparing the areas where they had chosen to settle down for the night, or gathering in the farm's larger rooms set aside as meeting areas.

The crusties, Beth's friends, hadn't taken the arrival of so many people as badly as she had expected. In fact, for well over an hour they walked around with beaming faces, almost as if they had been – well, _charmed_.

Surely they hadn't been...surely Galilee wouldn't allow...?

By the time the unnaturally wide grins had worn off, everyone at the squat accepted the newcomers as if they had been there for years.

This casual acceptance was made easier by the simple fact that no one was going hungry. No one _felt_ hungry.

Yet, as Foley had predicted, there were few of Beth's friends who didn't now crave the _experience_ , the _joy_ , of tasting something, anything.

Bacon, eggs, what remained of the bread; it was all eaten simply to relish the sensation of taste, the strange satisfaction of rolling something around in the mouth, rather than to assuage any hunger.

On Galilee's advice, tinned and longer-lasting food had been set aside for later. Food from the now-defunct fridge would go off soon anyway, and so might as well be eaten as it would only go to waste.

For some, a blob of tomato ketchup or spicy sauce was enough to satisfy their craving. For others it was alcohol or a fizzy drink.

It just had to be _something_ to swirl or chew in their mouth, even if it was only a blade of grass.

As always, Gerry had gone for a can of lager, one of a swiftly diminishing store. To make it last, she went round regaling her friends with a totally believable explanation for Foley's disappearance; 'Turns out, doesn't it, that he had this incredibly evil demon inside him. It more or less just ate him up.'

Every time she told it, even though he had now heard it countless times, Gerry's new friend Barry would cackle gleefully.

He happily followed her around, listening patiently to her tale time and time again. Beaming and grinning, he would laugh all the more when Gerry introduced him.

'Tsao Chun, a Chinese kitchen god,' she would say. 'Just what you need, eh, when we don't have a use for kitchen's anymore?'

Although Barry Cheung spoke with a Birmingham accent, he looked Chinese and was indeed Chinese if you traced his family back towards the end of the Second World War.

His dancing, too, was more Birmingham orientated than oriental. Stranger still, he danced to music that no one else could hear.

The more he unsuccessfully insisted on Gerry joining him to 'dance, dance, to the beautiful music', the more everyone thought he must be the one that was drunk, not Gerry.

Beth had gravitated towards her old friends, leaving the increasingly flustered Galilee to be monopolised by the newcomers.

There were girls who appeared to Beth to be approaching him simply to make eyes. There were also the more serious minded, however, who urgently drew diagrams in the air with their hands as they discussed strategy and anxieties.

Heddy and Drek followed Beth, hanging on close behind her. They giggled as they found excuses to lightly touch each other, blushing whenever they realised they had drawn too close.

Beth didn't feel comfortable. Her skin prickled, she felt on edge.

She knew people were watching her. She could sense it. She could spot it, if she spun around quickly enough.

They would try to quickly avert their gaze, so as not to be caught staring. That is, they would unless they were Philip Tull or Richard Folster (Beth had at least had the satisfaction of hearing him being addressed as Richard by someone who appeared to know him).

These two obviously took great delight in the unease they were causing her. Their stares would intensify. They would each smile ominously.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Folster would draw slowly on his cigar, narrowing his eyes as the smoke curled around him. As he smiled, his face appeared to crack as its many creases deepened and extended.

Tull's face, long, narrow and bony, glowed spectrally as the skin once again tightened across his skull. His eyes were dark points, his mouth nothing more than a shallow scratch.

There was another exception too.

The red haired woman simply ignored Beth. (Beth had only ever heard her being addressed by the name of her inner spirit, Epona.)

Epona didn't stare. She didn't even glance Beth's way.

She moved around the rooms as if nothing concerned her. Least of all Beth, who might as well not have existed.

If anything, Beth was the one doing the staring.

Huh, she probably thinks I'm no competition for her!

Hmn, she looks younger, don't you think?

Yes, Beth did think Epona was looking younger.

Much younger than I would have expected by now, if she were just letting things naturally take their course. You know what? I think she's getting help.

Oh oh. I know where _this_ is going!

_She_ is _looking good, though. Oh, but I suppose that_ is _a bit unfair on_ you _darling!_

Beth ignored her, glad that a loud burst of laughter from the corner of the room gave her an excuse to appear distracted.

They were chuckling once again at Barry's unsuccessful attempts to persuade Gerry to dance.

They cackled and nudged each other as he swayed to a rhythm inaudible to anyone else.

Amongst all the people gathered in the room, only one other person swayed as if she were under the influence of the same, silent music.

She was half hidden in one of the old building's many niches and alcoves.

Her back was to the room, the swaying so gentle and slow it was hardly noticeable. A long, heavy cloak almost veiled what little movement there was.

It also transformed the hunched woman into a virtually shapeless figure.

To get a better view of the woman, Beth had to move slightly to one side.

The woman wasn't old, as the short, hunched pose had implied. She was young, pretty, with ridiculously long white hair.

She had seemed to be short because she was seated, perhaps on a stool covered by the draping cloak. She was hunched over and playing a small harp of polished whalebone.

No sound came from the energetically, speedily plucked strings.

The harpist suddenly looked up and around, her eyes latching on to Beth's.

She didn't appear to be either embarrassed or annoyed. She kept on playing, her expression melancholy.

The movement of her hands, however, was graceful and full of joy.

Her gaze shifted slightly.

Her eyes hardened, the look abruptly knowing and conspiratorial.

They were locked onto the similarly scheming eyes of Philip Tull.

*

# Chapter 56

Despite a cold, early-morning mist, training started almost as soon as everyone was awake, which was only an hour after dawn.

This included even the normally late-rising crusties, who were both curious and insistent on taking part.

They had heard that one of the groups would be learning how to make a swift, sure kill with a sword.

They laughed uproariously as, taking the swords handed out to them, they discovered that the weapons were surprisingly heavy and unwieldy. The heavy blades pulled them off balance, even causing some of them to trip up.

Having witnessed the ease with which everyone else around them used the swords, cutting and thrusting in smooth, flowing movements, they had mistakenly assumed that the swords would be almost weightless.

Even as they at last began to familiarise themselves with the uneven weight of their weapons, revelling in the power they felt in each curving swing, they continued to make fools of themselves by treating the swords as if they were little more than toys.

They didn't seem to realise that their exaggeratedly aggressive mock fights were actually life-threatening.

The swords weren't toys. They were expertly – in fact magically – forged killing machines.

Beth had felt the draining of local energy as the steel and iron taken from the old machinery littering the farm was transformed into sharp blades, guards, hilts, and pommels.

Old tarpaulins and torn car seats became handgrips, sheaths and belts.

In the hands of the new arrivals, the swords were flashes of silver in the air. Although they weren't capable of the naturally mastery displayed by Beth, most of the newcomers skilfully wielded their weapons.

They displayed a clear understanding of the use of their cuts, thrusts and defensive parries. Even so, the moves didn't flow and blend into each other as smoothly as they should. Beth wasn't sure if this was because of the limited skills of their inner spirits, or the poor responses of their new, weaker and less agile bodies.

Certainly, though, everyone was doubtlessly moving quicker and more lithely than they would have believed possible just a few days ago.

'How'd they choose who ended up wrestling with these clumps of iron?' protested an overweight man.

His moves were more fumbling and unbalanced than most.

'I'd have preferred to go off with those improving their magic skills.'

Earlier, they had been split into groups, then led off in different directions across the fields. Each grouping had been given a particular ability to practise and improve upon.

'They're not _really_ being taught magic skills.'

Barry was having as much trouble with his sword as the plump man. Rather than appearing frustrated, however, he laughed and giggled at his own incompetence.

'All these exercises – whether it's with the sword, practising magic, or being taught how to ride a horse – are more to do with learning how to maintain control of your inner spirit than anything else.'

'Barry's right.'

A girl in her twenties, supple and well exercised, relished the way she could move so lightly across the ground.

'The ones taken off to practise magic, you ask me, are the ones in danger of drawing _way_ too much on their inner power.'

'You're now inherently capable of achieving remarkable things!'

Barry suddenly sprung into a surprising whirl of movement. He came to an abrupt halt, his sword held out before him in the middle of a downward strike.

'But at the expense of losing your very self, if you're not careful!'

'Way I've seen you lot performing today,' growled Tull, who had obviously been listening in to their conversation, 'I reckon you're all in danger of drawing too much on your inner spirit.'

He executed a smooth set of movements, as if fighting an accomplished, invisible foe.

'If you're up against an enemy, and you're as stiff and unbalanced as I've witnessed here, you'll be solely tempted to call up the skills of your inner spirit! And one of us, I believe, has already seen what that can lead to!'

He glared at Beth, warily observing her smoothness, her ease, with the sword.

'Not a pretty sight, is it Miss Jones? Their clumsiness?'

'No sir.' Beth wasn't quite sure how Tull expected her to answer his question.

Tull had been placed in charge of the sword training.

Having led them across the field, he had allowed them a few minutes to 'loosen up those muscles; you're going to be using them more than you could have ever imagined.'

As she had practised her own moves, Beth had watched Tull going through his own elaborate, skilful jabs and strikes. He was good, very good.

Yet Beth noticed that, like most of the others, his moves suffered now and again from his lack of physical strength, the inflexibility of a poorly exercised body.

'So we need to remove that rustiness and shrug off that laziness of your body!'

Tull hissed and growled as he moved through a strike, a downward cleave, a recovery and a withdrawal.

'Yes, it will gradually change for the better! But we don't have the time to wait.'

With a commanding glower and a wave of his free hand, he indicated that everyone should now begin to follow and copy the moves he was making. There were stumbles, mistakes, and slow, faltering, delayed actions that earned the culprit a snarled rebuke.

The crusties especially were hopeless; their weapons seemed to be gaining in weight with every passing second.

Unless Beth was mistaken, Tull had more hair today than when she had first seen him.

It seemed strange that he could still be partially bald, still scrawny and weak – or, like some of the others around her, flabby and overweight – while others like Limpet had regained the use of his wasted leg.

And what about those, too, who had walked out of hospital cured of all their ills?

Perhaps, Beth reasoned, the spiritual form quite naturally returned to the typical, standard two legs, two arms etcetera. But there would still be variations dependent upon the wilful choices an individual had made through his or her life.

'As for the idiot who asked why using a sword is important; you use it, laddie, to save magical energy for the opponents you're really going to need it against!'

Although Tull talked as he moved, he didn't sound breathless.

'And if you're up against some clever little beggar who manages to suck away all the energy around you, flattering himself he's now invulnerable; imagine his surprise when you suddenly cleave his skull for him, eh?'

He leapt forward, bringing his sword down hard in a curling strike that would indeed have split someone's head in two if they had been unfortunate enough to be standing there.

'What about a gun?'

Drek grinned childishly, like he was pleased with himself for pointing out such an obvious flaw to Tull's arguments. Far from _looking_ childish however, as he had done only a few days ago – his constant sense of unease, his gawkiness, his pallid, heavily spotted skin – he appeared to have gained the benefits of a few years of aging.

Drek now emanated a confidence and strength that was once alien to him.

'Wouldn't that be easier, faster?' he said.

'A gun?' Tull sneered.

Suddenly, he was a blur of movement.

Drek shrieked in horror as Tull's blade was brought to an abrupt halt only a hand's breadth from the top of his head.

Tull's enraged face was directly in front of his own. He could feel the man's hot breath, see the anger in his eyes.

Despite Tull's incredible burst of speed, Beth had somehow moved even faster.

She was between them both, her body arched back, her sword raised and skilfully blocking Tull's downward strike.

'I wasn't going to kill him, you little fool!' Tull hissed furiously. 'I was demonstrating that it takes too long for a gun's mechanism to work. Too long for bullet to pass through space!'

'Sorry, it was just instin–'

There was another furious whirl of movement as Tull pulled his sword back. He swung it down, aimed it for Beth's midriff.

Once again, she moved even quicker, blocking any possible strike.

'Only a blade moves with you!'

Tull was breathing hard, angrily. He spoke as if to the watching trainees, as if this were all part of their instruction.

'Only a sword is as fast as you are!'

This time, he pulled his sword back slowly, warily.

'Practise your moves,' he barked at everyone.

'You!' he growled specifically at Beth. 'Instinctive? You were going to say your moves were purely instinctive?'

She smoothly, gracefully slipped Hew into the sheath strapped to her back.

'Yes, I–'

'Yes, you're drawing too much on your inner spirit!'

'No, I–'

'Lynese? A water fay? How could you move so fluidly unless you were drawing on every ability of your inner spirit?'

'No, no; would you please just listen–'

'If you can fight like this, why didn't you offer to help train the others?'

'Because I don't really know how–'

'Yes, see? You don't really know how you mange to fight in this way. You have no control, in other words!'

'I can learn it and–'

'Learn it? Don't you think it's a little too late to learn anything? I shall have a word with Galilee. I think there'd be a danger of releasing powers we don't understand if you took part in the magic sessions.'

'Dangerous? How could a water fay be–'

'I knew this Lynese, I think. I can't see that she would need such a remarkable ability with a sword!'

'You knew her?'

'She was seen as a protector by the people of Lyonessee. A beneficial, healing-spirit; yet Galilee says she worked against us?'

'She was confused. She wanted to protect magic so she could continue her healing.'

'Hah, to retain her powers, you mean? And so don't you think that a person who fought to retain her powers would now also fight to regain them?'

'But she's a _good_ spirit, can't you see–'

'Even a good spirit, once it begins to experience and relish the freedoms you grant her, might be tempted to take more and more. It would be oblivious to the damage it's causing you! Soon, the transfer of control becomes unstoppable; for either of you!'

'She _died_ trying to protect the people of Lyonessee! I can't bear to think what this Morrigan woman did–'

'Morrigan? She took on Morrigan?'

'Look, would you please stop interrupting? You really are so incredibly rude an–'

'Yes, yes, that would make sense! Morrigan could sink an island!'

'You know _her_ too?'

'Know _of_ her, thankfully. If Lynese found herself facing Morrigan, then I pity her. She would have had no chance against such a powerful sorceress.'

'Lynese said it was all over pretty quickly–'

'Not so quickly that Morrigan couldn't cull the poor people of Lyonessee, eh?'

'Cull? That's an odd word to use.'

He laughed bitterly.

'Morrigan sees it as her responsibly to cull those she perceives as being too weak to be of use! She prefers those who have died in battle; because she can transform them and make them her own. She enlists them into her own legions of the dead!'

Beth shivered.

'She's probably one of the worst we'll have to face.'

Tull placed a consoling hand on Beth's shoulder, as if he now empathised with Lynese and the struggle she had faced.

'Hence the importance of our training, eh?'

He glanced up, distracted by the rolling thunder of passing horses. Epona, the red haired woman, was at their head.

Her mount was frisky, lithe, and spirited, yet she moved easily and naturally with it. She sat tall and proud upon its back.

Ah, here's someone who's every inch the warrior queen, don't you think?

Although she would rather have bitten her tongue off, Beth had to agree with Lynese.

The woman's mass of hair flowed behind her like an inextinguishable flame. It bobbed and flared in the light as, in an incredibly smooth motion, Epona rose high in her stirrups, swung over a leg, and leapt down to the ground without bothering to draw her horse to a halt.

'Water your horses before you drink yourself!' she ordered, spinning around to face the other riders.

Her mount slowed, then came to a stop, the other horses following suit.

'They've worked hard!' Epona pointed out.

I don't think she got that little number out of her travel bag, do you?

Epona wore a concoction of leather straps and small metal plates that covered little more than a swimsuit would. It was straight out of a fantasy comic.

Yeah, either a Red Sonja boutique has opened up around here recently, or she's used magic!

Oh, we are coming on aren't we? You didn't have to speak a word of that!

Beth was surprised to realise that Lynese was right; suddenly, she could speak to Lynese without saying everything out loud.

'Take a break,' Tull growled resignedly.

He had noticed that the attention of most of his male trainees was now firmly fixed on Epona's arrival.

Besides, there was a further distraction.

A large group of people who had newly arrived at the farm were looking somewhat bewildered and seeking help. Tull cried out, drawing Folster's attention to the newcomers.

In no time, the squat little man was organising their billeting as efficiently as if he had already prepared for it.

Tull next called over an exhausted, sweating Barry. Taking him aside with a serious frown, he began to quietly yet forcefully scold him.

Yet Tull's growing anger only caused the overweight man to ripple with laughter. When they parted, they walked off in opposite directions.

As soon as they had been given permission to take a break, Drek had excitedly rushed over to Heddy as she watered her horse at the troughs.

Being an experienced rider, Heddy was checking for slack and overly tight straps (as with the swords, a range of saddles and reins had been constructed from old leather using the briefest bursts of magic). As Drek called her name and came up behind her, however, she immediately turned to embrace him with an elated giggle.

If Drek's recent and swift transformation had amazed Beth, Heddy's own change had been even more spectacular.

She was tall, graceful, beautiful. Her limbs were slender and athletic, her body already burgeoning into a young woman's elegant curves.

By comparison, Beth felt gangly and pallid. Was she imagining it, or was she still trapped in the body (the spirit?) of a girl?

She didn't feel as if she had matured in the same way Heddy and Drek had. She didn't _look_ as if she had changed, either.

She had checked with a glance at herself in the mirror only this morning.

How was that possible? How could she be so different from everyone else?

'I wish they wouldn't do that.' Galilee sighed forlornly as he drew up alongside her.

Having plucked one of the buttercups growing around his feet, Drek had placed it beneath Heddy's chin. He used the golden glow it brought to her skin as an excuse to playfully kiss Heddy's throat.

'The buttercup, I mean,' he added, in case Beth had mistakenly assumed that he was against Drek and Heddy's budding relationship. 'I wish they wouldn't pick the flowers. They're so much more precious when you know they aren't going to grow back.'

'How many do you think we've flattened as we've practised using the sword?' Beth said it far more sourly than she intended.

'That's unavoidable. But picking them just for pleasure is a luxury we can no longer afford.'

Galilee had also quickly aged. He was no longer a boy.

He was taller, more muscular. More sophisticated, more responsible.

But rather than looking better for it, as Drek and Heddy did, he seemed tired, exhausted. He appeared weighed down by his extra responsibilities.

'Our seeking of unnecessary pleasures Beth; it's going to leave us living in a wasteland.'

Standing alongside him, listening to his concern for the world and the people around him, she felt even more childlike.

How could he ever be attracted to her now?

Wouldn't the red-haired warrior queen make a far more suitable companion for him?

Would accepting a little beauty help from Lynese really be so wrong?

'I think Tull is going to have a word with you,' she said. 'He doesn't think I should have magic training.'

'This Lynese, Beth; do you trust her?'

She had hoped Galilee would simply dismiss Tull's anxieties with a world-weary chuckle.

'Of course,' she lied. 'Why shouldn't I?'

'Because she could kill you, Beth. Even if she doesn't intend to. You can't trust her, not fully. Don't you see? As you grow in power, they do too.'

Now that he was directly facing her, he seemed more drained of energy than ever.

Was he describing his own problems rather than hers?

How much was he drawing on his own powers to hold everything together? He had needed Machal's knowledge, his authority, his magical ability to gather everyone around him.

Was Galilee worried that he was losing control?

'Think about it Beth; to retain control, we have to be permanently alert. Strong at all times. So here's the paradox, Beth. It's exhausting, it saps our energies. So we need sleep, if we're not to become exhausted. Even though we're now mainly spirit, Beth, we still need to recuperate, to regain energies we've spent throughout the day. But _they_ don't have to sleep! They're awake and still aware when you're at your weakest!'

Beth could see that all this could indeed be a warning aimed at her. He was, effectively, asking her if she really wanted to go through all this.

Did she really want to open herself up to all these problems?

Even so, he also spoke as someone already experiencing this dilemma.

'And here's another paradox Beth. The more effort you put into controlling everything, the less chance you have to get on with your own life. So you've lost yourself anyway.'

Beth's only response was to wait, wait while he paused and considered if he should unburden himself anymore than he already had.

'And then there's a third paradox, of course. Because when it all comes down to it, there'll probably be a point when you have to relinquish all that control anyway. Otherwise you'll both die, and we risk losing the war–'

Galilee's eyes sprang wide open.

In the same instant, Beth felt strangely cold.

It was as if all her clothes had been abruptly snatched away, leaving her bare to the elements.

She realised that many of the others must have felt something similar for, like her, they all glanced up into the sky.

The air above them rippled, darkening in parts almost as if it were the precursor of a violent storm. But the colours, the shapes, were wrong; there were purple and yellow hues, like a growing bruise. The air moved in hard, sharp angles.

None of the crusties seemed to be aware of the changing sky. Gerry looked about her, totally bewildered, as she tried to work out what everyone was staring at. Drek and Heddy smiled in bemusement.

'That's a massive depletion of energy,' Galilee breathed uneasily.

Anxious glances were now being fleetingly swapped.

The sky's angled movement churned, drawing the deeper colours together into a whirling, towering spout of mauve and orange.

The lowest, sharpest end of the spout pointed off towards a field a short distance away.

Without a word, everyone began to run towards the field. Epona leapt athletically back onto her horse, immediately spurring it into a fierce gallop. The crusties, after only a moment's hesitation, followed everyone else.

'No, no! Most of you have to stay,' Galilee yelled, signalling to Tull that he wanted him to organise some form of defensive line. 'All this could be intended to draw us out. Defend the farm!'

Heddy drew up on her horse, trailing behind her two empty mounts that she offered to a grateful Galilee and Beth. They slid into the saddles, setting off at a fast sprint after Epona.

As soon as they cleared the field's open gate, they couldn't miss it; a soaring, gleaming black stone.

It dominated the field's very centre like an unimaginably large Neolithic monument.

Being the first to reach it, Epona leapt down from her horse. She moved swiftly around its base, as if studying it closely.

Yet her moves were odd, for she moved back and forth, her head bobbing violently.

A low, sorrowful wailing came from the stone.

It shifted and changed in intensity, the way a strong wind howls around a series of buildings.

A tortured face appeared on the stone's face.

It was swept away, only to briefly reappear somewhere else.

Alongside the face, hands clawed at the surface from inside.

It was a trapped, imprisoned person, fruitlessly attempting to break free.

It was Barry; Barry was trapped inside the stone.

*

# Chapter 57

'Why Barry? He wasn't any harm to anyone.'

'Why do it so _obviously_? Whoever did this had the power to simply make him disappear. We wouldn't have even known he had gone missing until hours later.'

'And why sign post it anyway? That was a massive use of energy, way over what was needed. We were _supposed_ to find him!'

'Look, can't you two just stop asking these useless questions,' Beth screamed at Epona and Galilee. 'Can't you just actually _do_ something to help him?'

Epona looked at Galilee with a 'Well should I tell her or will you?' expression.

With a jaded sigh, Galilee explained. 'We can't free him or change him back, if that's what you mean Beth. It's not possible.'

'Well why not? That's what magic's for isn't it? To _do_ the impossible!'

'The magic's too deeply embedded.' Epona sounded authoritative, competent, confident. 'It's easy to turn eggs into an omelette; a whole lot harder to turn an omelette back into eggs.'

_'Harder_?' Beth picked up on the word Epona had used. 'Not _impossible_?'

Now Epona and Galilee glanced at each other like they had been caught out.

'Okay Beth, so yeah; it's not impossible. But it would mean using a _colossal_ amount of energy. That not only means we'd be left defenceless if anyone chose to attack us. To use it, at least one of us would have to give ourselves over to our inner spirit.'

'One of us would die,' Epona added tersely. 'Who do you think that should be? You?'

'So that's it? You're just going to leave him here?'

Barry screamed and cursed as he flew around inside the stone, his features stretched, contorted, wraithlike.

'Beth,' Galilee said consolingly, 'I think that's why we were supposed to find him like this. To tempt us into attempting a rescue.'

'It's almost deliberately ironic; the way he's been effectively solidified.'

Epona refused to explain further. She either assumed Beth would understand or she was hoping Beth would have to admit her ignorance and ask for an explanation.

'Barry – Tsao – could transform into a wisp of smoke.' Galilee said. 'It was assumed in his legends that he could ascend to heaven, taking messages from earth.'

'His form was insubstantial.' Epona stared despondently at the wretched, ghostly image of Barry flowing around inside the gleaming obelisk. 'Now he's rooted and immovable.'

'The girl!'

Beth recalled the girl with the harp. She had been playing the silent music that Barry had somehow heard and danced to.

'And Tull! They did it! I saw them scheming together!'

She was irritated when, once again, Epona and Galilee exchanged knowing glances as if Beth were a naïve child.

'I saw them,' she insisted angrily. 'Tull and this girl! And I saw Tull having an argument with Barry only a few moments ago!'

'Which girl?' Galilee asked patiently.

'She was playing a harp last night! Barry was dancing to it, even though no one else could hear it! Can't you remember? Everyone was laughing at him, poor man!'

'I think she means Canola,' Epona said calmly.

'Canola? Is that her name?' Beth was relieved that they were at last taking her seriously.

'Beth, I think it's far more likely that someone like your friend Drek is invol–'

'Drek? How could _Drek_ do this?'

Beth was appalled that Galilee was once again accusing Drek.

'So it couldn't possibly be _your_ friends, eh? It _has_ to be one of mine!'

'It couldn't have been Drek,' Heddy pointed out sullenly.

Unlike the others, who had dismounted to closely inspect the stone, she was still astride her horse. She found comfort in its warmth and movement.

'He was with me when this happened.'

'Okay, so he didn't do _this_!'

Galilee, his growing irritation with Beth aggravated by Heddy's unwanted intervention, indicated the stone with an angry stab.

'But we should be asking him about what happened with this other friend of yours, this Foley! If I'd asked him earlier, this might not have happened!'

'How do you figure that out? You've just heard Drek had nothing to do with it. But this girl–'

'Beth, Canola has a magic harp!' Galilee's fury was getting worse. 'Anyone who hears it is more or less destined to die pretty soon after.'

'But I honestly saw her, saw her looking strangely at Tull. Like they had arranged something!'

'They _had_ arranged something,' Epona agreed flatly. 'Tull asked her to play to see if any of us were in danger. He hoped it would give him some idea if we might be attacked.'

'So the _argument_ you saw him having was probably just him trying to warn Barry to be careful Beth!'

Galilee's eyes flared furiously as he leapt back onto his horse.

'Just stop being so suspicious of people like Tull, can't you? Your friend Drek's got far more to answer for, you ask me!'

With a sharp prod of his knees, he rode off at a fierce gallop.

Beth felt stupid, humiliated. She just seemed to sink lower in Galilee's eyes with every passing hour.

'He doesn't mean to be so angry with you.'

Epona no longer sounded superior. She was soothing, consoling.

'He's not sleeping well; he's endangering himself to know more. He doesn't want to make mistakes.'

It only made Beth feel even worse. Epona was obviously aware of what Galilee was going through.

More aware than she was.

_It's really_ not _going too well with lover boy, is it?_

Don't _you_ start!

'I've got to go.'

Beth spoke brusquely as she stepped towards her mount. With a wave of her hand, she called on Heddy to follow her.

_'We_ have a friend who needs _our_ help.'

She had to warn Drek that Galilee was looking for him!

And warn him before Galilee found him!

*

_It's strange, don't you think? How lover boy's always telling you to keep a ridiculously tight control? While_ he's _picking up every little bit of knowledge and power he can from Machal?_

He's endangering himself. Didn't you hear?

Beth and Heddy were spurring their mounts into a continuous headlong charge across the fields. They both rode gracefully, expertly.

The horses powered forward, sweating and breathing hard.

_Oh, of course he is sweetie! Oh, wait; if he doesn't want you to copy him, don't you think he's_ bound _to make out that gaining more power is dangerous? Just a thought, but..._

He's scared, scared he'll go too far. But he doesn't have any choice.

Ah yes; the complaint of every dictator who's ever achieved power.

I don't think they were putting themselves in danger like Galilee is, do you?

Oh dear! You really are a naïve little thing, aren't you? Is it all those new muscles that are blinding you to his faults, darling?

Don't start all that again!

_Touchy are we? Oh, but of course; you know he's_ way _out of your league now, eh?_

Didn't I already say that I didn't want you to start?

Well, he's hardly a boy anymore, is he? And our little red haired floozy has definitely got her eyes on him too, don't you think?

Shut it!

There's quite a nice relationship developing between them, you ask me. One based on mutual respect, as well as attracti–

'Galilee!' Beth bellowed. 'Leave him alone,'

Ahead of her, Galilee was holding a terrified Drek high above the ground in a whirlwind of violently pummelling air.

Without even having to think about it, Beth sent forward a surge of water sucked and plucked up from hollows in the ground.

It struck Galilee hard, sending him bowling across the ground.

The currents of air surrounding Drek wavered and shifted. He toppled then fell slowly to the ground.

'Have you gone crazy?' Beth yelled at the sodden Galilee as he wearily got back to his feet. 'What's wrong with you?'

Galilee appeared shocked and dazed. Leaping from her horse, Beth steamed towards him.

'He said he heard voices,' Galilee spluttered in a half-hearted defence of his actions.

Despite this, he was cowed, chastened. Far from being defiant, he seemed surprised by his own behaviour.

Heddy had leapt from her horse only a second after Beth, rushing over to console a shocked and frightened Drek. She spat back angrily at Galilee.

'Of course he heard voices! He's always heard them!'

'He suffered a bad childhood, Galilee,' Beth added. 'Ever heard of that phenomenon?'

Galilee gave a humbled nod of his head.

'Yes, yes, of course; I'm sorry. What a fool I've been. Please forgive me.'

Now he was shaking his head, like he was trying to regain control of his thoughts and actions.

His embarrassment increased when he noticed a gawping Gerry, observing him warily.

She was open mouthed, as if she had witnessed everything and couldn't quite work out what had been going on.

At last, she turned away, clutching thirstily at her can of lager as she took a long drink.

'I don't know what came over me,' Galilee added contritely.

He shook his head again, this time in bewilderment at what he had just put Drek through.

'I need a rest; all this is just getting too much for me.'

Beth wasn't really listening anymore. Her eyes were on the retreating Gerry.

Should she tell her what had happened to Barry? Had Gerry really grown that close to him, in the short time she had known him, that she would want to know all the details?

'Beth, Galilee.' Heddy stepped over to them, having reassured herself that Drek hadn't been injured. 'Could I talk to you for a moment please?'

'Sure Heddy; what do you want?' Beth smiled, surprised by Heddy's obvious agitation.

'I know you just treated Drek badly Galilee, because you were trying to figure out what had happened when Foley died.'

'Yeah, I'm sorry Heddy. I over reacted.'

'We know you couldn't see,' Beth said. 'You and Gerry were in the barn.'

'Yeah, that's right; only, just seeing Gerry there, well, it made me remember something odd. Or, rather, I remember _thinking_ I saw something odd at the time. Only I can't _remember_ what it was!'

Beth chuckled. 'You might have to run that one by me again Heddy before I begin to make any sense of it!'

'Gerry?' Galilee was far more serious. 'Can you try and think what it was that you thought was odd? Did she disappear for a while?'

Beth eyed Galilee uneasily. 'Galilee. You can't go starting on Ger–'

'Yes, yes. I'm sorry Beth, I won't, I promise. But this _is_ important! Heddy, please – was there a time when Gerry was out of your view?'

'No, no; she _was_ still there with me. I'm sure of it. That's why I find it hard to think what it was that I thought was so odd at the time. It was just pure chaos at the time; the fire, the terrified animals. So whatever it was that I _thought_ I'd seen, I just had to put it to the back of my mind and get on with saving the animals. I thought, anyway, that I must have just imagined it – that the fumes were perhaps making me a little dizzy. Giving me hallucinations, you know? Once everything was over, and we were all safe, I simply forgot all about it; until just a moment ago, when something about Gerry made me think of it again.'

Galilee's face was creased in pained frustration.

'Galilee, I'm not letting you treat Gerry like you did Drek!' Beth warned.

'I know, I know! But, see, we don't even need to ask _Gerry_ , do we? It's Heddy's memory that we've got to somehow jumpstart – and I know just the girl to do that! Canola!'

*

# Chapter 58

Galilee moved fast, very fast.

It was an urgent, rapid walk. Almost a run.

It was hard for Beth to keep up. Her walk was jerky, uncomfortable. Every now and again she had to do a little skip, a little jump, to catch up.

Heddy and Drek were falling behind. They were holding hands, and in no rush at all.

They were heading to the area were the magical training had started once again.

Each one of the trainees was partially veiled, completely surrounded by a quivering, hollow column of air, water or fire they had conjured up.

Some of the walls were stronger, thicker than others. Some wavered violently, possibly uncontrollably.

Some, on closer inspection, weren't columns of air or water after all, but pulsating waves of heat or even sound. One column of sound was so high-pitched it caused Beth to wonder if, directed into a more concentrated form, it could disable or even kill.

'Now hold it, steady it. Don't push it too much. Just get used to it!'

Canola, the girl Beth had seen playing the magical harp, stood at their head, directing and advising them.

No magical field surrounded her, but her speech was as dreamy and calming as Beth imagined her harp must sound.

'Focus on it; draw it back in.'

Shimmering folds of air, water, fire, sound, and heat withdrew back into their creators.

'Then, gently, let it out again. But slowly, slowly, and controlled this time. Like it's a breathing, breathing, _breathing_ exercise.'

She breathed out slowly as she spoke.

Before her, her class followed her instructions. The energy suffusing them expanded gradually, the waves building from shallow wrinkles to a deeply undulating swelling.

'Breathe out, breathe out. Let it all expand _lazily_ , _easily_ – until it's just touching your nearest neighbours.'

The cocoons of fluctuating energy gradually spread out until they touched another field. Some passed through and into each other with a fizzle, or a pop. Others flattened as if striking something solid and immovable.

'Can you _feel_ that other energy? Like it's touching you? Yes?'

They didn't need to answer. Anyone could tell from their surprised reactions that they had sensed when the fields had touched or embraced.

Galilee remained to one side, refraining from interrupting Canola's teaching even though his face became increasingly creased with anxiety and impatience.

Having witnessed the way Galilee had exploded earlier, Beth now recognised the need for Canola's exercises. The way they helped instil control and understanding of the powerful and potentially dangerous energies contained within each of them was obviously essential.

'Can you sense, too, how they are drawing on the same energy that you are? When under attack, you have to carefully judge how much energy to draw on. Use too much in an attack against a powerful foe, who can draw on energy from farther afield, and it could eventually leave you defenceless. Use too little, and you could allow a more powerful foe to draw away all the energy immediately surrounding you.'

The fluctuations of heat surrounding a tall, emaciated woman oscillated and dropped away as she raised a hand and spoke.

'Wouldn't it make sense to draw upon all the energy surrounding us? So they have nothing to use?'

'There are few capable of such a thing. It would almost certainly result in your death, and probably even of your inner spirit. Besides, drawing on so much all at once can draw extra energy in, like air rushing into a vacuum. As you will learn, it's also possible to, as it were, hitch a ride on such an attempt – allowing you to pull in energy from the edges.'

No longer prepared to wait, Galilee stepped closer to Canola.

'Canola, I'm sorry, but there's something urgent, something I need you to do for me.'

Despite being interrupted, Canola beamed beatifically. With a gentle nod of her head, she indicated that she would be with him in a moment.

'I want you to gently, gradually boost the power of your defensive cocoon without letting it expand,' she said to her class. 'Try and sense the depletion of energy taking place as you all draw on it. When I get back, we'll look at feeling for energy beyond our immediate area. We'll also track the way the depleted area can be more swiftly replenished if it comes in on a wind or a storm.'

She turned to Galilee who, drawing her aside, began to explain why he needed her, with the odd nod or waved arm in Heddy and Drek's direction.

Why don't I already know all these things, like Canola does?

Well, you've obviously picked up how to let me know you're addressing me without taking the courtesy of using my name. So you're picking these things up bit by bit – if childishly slowly, I grant you.

So, you're saying it's all now a part of me – or something?

I think 'innate' is the word you're looking for, darling. And yes, it's all just sitting there, all going to waste. The only reason why death's favourite harpist here knows so much is because she's drawn on it. While telling all you other gullible fools to 'take it slowly, control it, blah-de-blah!'

You saw what happened to Galilee. He's losing it; it's driving him crazy.

Hmn, yes, very interesting that, wasn't it? But was it really because he's in touch with Machal? Or isn't it more likely that there are things about lover boy we're not aware of that makes him, shall we say, a little unstable?

So why can't you just _tell_ me whatever it is I'm supposed to know?

But you're not supposed to know, are you darling? Unless you can control it, right? Besides, how long have you got to sit and listen anyway? And, at the end of it all, it would just be like you expecting to know how to swim just because someone told you how it's done. It doesn't work that way, does it, dear? But if you've swum before – well, then you don't need to actually know how you do it, do you?

Galilee returned with Canola. After the briefest of introductions, he instructed Beth and Heddy to hold hands with him, forming a small circle.

'Now, Heddy,' Canola said gently as she moved behind Heddy, 'I want you to think back to when you were in the barns rescuing the horses. Can you do that for me please?'

Heddy gave a quick nod.

'Close your eyes if it helps.' Canola reached around from behind Heddy, placing her open palms on the girl's forehead.

Beth gave a start.

Suddenly, she was amongst the flames in the barn.

She could feel the intense heat. Sense the fear of the horses. Hear their panicked neighing, their clomping hooves.

She was reaching up, trying to calm a dangerously rearing horse. Its eyes were wide and white with terror.

Gerry was there too. She was leading out a pair of horses, their heads covered with old sacking, a rough rope rein slung around their necks.

A wall was almost completely aglow with the orange glow of the flames. Huge shadows of the thrashing horses were being thrown against it, adding to the sense that this was a scene from hell.

The shadows of the two horses being led by Gerry passed across the wall. They were images of relative calm amongst the chaotically changing shapes dominated by Heddy and the rearing stallion.

And that was the odd thing.

The makeshift reins of the two horses simply hovered in the air.

There was no shadow of Gerry leading them to safety.

*

# Chapter 59

They all broke hands with a shocked gasp.

'It's odd,' Canola said calmly, carefully pulling her own hands away from Heddy's brow, 'but this is just a _memory_ , remember. And even the memories I can help recall can sometimes be false to us.'

'It's all we have to go on Canola; thanks!'

With a quick look back at Beth, Heddy and Drek, Galilee broke into a run.

'Come on, we have to find Gerry!'

'But what can it _mean_?' Beth yelled as she ran after him.

'I've no idea – but it _was_ odd, don't you think?'

'It could have been a trick of the light.' Heddy was running alongside Drek. 'All those flames; they were throwing shadows everywhere.'

'Yet it _was_ odd!' Galilee replied, perhaps a little too sternly.

'But she _was_ still there!' Beth pointed out. 'We saw that. How could she have had anything to do with what happened to Foley?'

'We're talking _magic_ , remember!'

They were all running so fast and hard that their shouts and cries came out as stuttering gasps.

'Who's to say Heddy only saw what she expected to see? How quickly can someone experienced in magic move – or even fly?'

'But Gerry's still just...' Beth struggled for the words. 'Well, what passes for human these days! You'd know if she wasn't, wouldn't you?'

'Sense a presence, you mean? It's not infallible, Beth. Not everyone can do it. While some inner spirits are better at hiding away than others.'

When they eventually found Gerry, the first thing they all noticed was that she clearly had a shadow.

'What?' Gerry could hardly have failed to notice them all rushing up towards her.

They all ground to a sudden halt only a body's length away from her.

'Something's going on? What?'

She eyed them suspiciously, even as she took a drink from her can.

'Er, you have a shadow, Gerry.'

Beth said it faltering, embarrassed by their strange behaviour.

With a puzzled frown, Gerry fleetingly glanced down at her own shadow.

'Course I have a shadow. Who doesn't, eh? Is all this anything to do with all that craziness I saw going on with poor Drek here?'

She glared accusingly at Galilee.

'Did Drek suffer all that because blondy here thought Drek didn't have a shadow too?'

'Sorry, yes, it was uncalled for.' Galilee hung his head. 'And no, it wasn't because I thought he didn't have a shadow.'

'He's...he's just under a lot of pressure at the moment Gerry,' Beth said. 'It's...it's Barry, Gerry. Have you heard?'

'Barry? The Chinese guy, right? What about him?'

Beth swapped uneasy glances with the others as she tried to figure out the best way of breaking the news to Gerry.

'Don't worry Beth, I'll handle it.'

Canola came up behind them. Her walk, like her voice, was calm, unrushed.

'Handle what?' Gerry asked suspiciously.

'I thought I might be needed again.'

Canola's voice was strangely soothing. She languidly made her way closer to Gerry.

'I left my class practising the exercises they've already learned.'

Was Canola intending to read Gerry's mind the way she had Heddy's?

Beth wondered how Gerry would react to being asked to join hands in a circle.

Not very well, probably.

'Are you all right, my dear?' Canola asked Gerry kindly, taking one of Gerry's hands in hers.

'Course, course I'm all right!'

Gerry was surprised, even irritated, by the question. But she held onto Canola's hand as if she were a lost child.

Canola smiled. Gerry began to gently cry.

'Poor Barry,' she said. 'He didn't deserve that, did he?'

She looked at the can she held in her other hand as if she couldn't understand what it was doing there.

'I think I've had enough of this. I'll go find somewhere to dump it.'

She walked off. She held the can down by her side as if it were something disgusting she would rather not be holding.

Canola turned to face Galilee. She shook her head.

'There's no inner spirit. There are no signs at all.'

*

By the time everyone had retired back to the farmhouse and its outbuildings for the night, everyone had visited the trapped Barry.

Everyone agreed that he seemed unable to see them, let alone converse with them.

He looked scared. He often appeared to be in agony.

The impression was that he was being chased by something unseen. Something that never gave him rest.

Everyone was subdued. They were shocked. They were also determined; this only gave them more reason to prepare themselves for the coming fight.

Galilee approached Beth tentatively.

'Beth, about earlier with Drek. I just wanted to say again – your nose? What have you done to your nose?'

Beth self-consciously covered her nose with a hand.

'What do you mean? Nothing!'

Galilee bent low, sternly observing her nose as best as he could despite the covering hand.

'You _have_ done something about your nose!'

_'About_ my nose!' she snapped back, letting her hand drop so that she could give proper vent to her anger. 'I've done something _about_ my nose? Are you saying it _needed_ something doing about it?'

He was still closely observing her nose.

'Well you _have_ done something! It was a little bent before!'

Told you he'd noticed it darling.

'It was _not_ a little bent!'

'You shouldn't be using your skills to improve the way you look! That's the very worst thing you can do! Unless you're actually _wanting_ to lose control!'

'Oh, so what about Epona? Or are you telling me that's all completely natural?'

'She's far more in control than you are! Besides, there's no doubt about her–'

'So that's it! It all comes down you still not trusting me!'

'Beth, you have a sword called _Hew_. That's more than a bit like these guys with dogs called Fang and Devil who tell you it's really a soft little thing who wouldn't hurt anyone.'

He smiled to show he was treating all this as lightly as he could.

'There's hardly _anyone_ I can't doubt, Beth! Whoever trapped Barry like that – it could be anyone. Even someone who fought for us last time Beth; if they relish regaining their power, they may be tempted to change sides. They may not be as ready to relinquish their powers this time.'

He took her hands in his.

'There might be a way, Beth, to find out once and for all exactly who Lynese is.'

Beth looked down at their clutching hands. She knew what he had in mind.

'You mean you want Canola to look into my mind.'

He nodded.

'You see, when we were connected earlier, looking into Heddy's memories – well, she, Canola, could also briefly see inside all of us–'

Beth angrily withdrew her hands from his.

'You mean you asked her to take a look inside me?'

He nodded again, only this time with a great deal more embarrassment.

'I'm sorry Beth! Really, really sorry! But I saw it as a chance to put this whole thing to rest, one way or the other.'

'And?'

Although furious at Galilee's deception, she was still curious. What had Canola seen?

Galilee shook his head sadly.

'She saw – confusion. Nothing was clear. It surprised her. She said it might have been because she wasn't in direct contact. But she would still have expected some clearer reading of who you _really_ are, Beth.'

'So – does she think it would help if I allowed her to look inside me directly?'

Again, he gave her an embarrassed nod.

'It would help...clear up so many things that have been troubling us all Beth.'

'All? You mean Tull? "Rie-card" Folster? Epona?'

'And you Beth! You need to know too, surely?'

She glared at him. She wanted him to know how angry she was that they had been discussing her in this way.

'Okay,' she said eventually. 'When? When do you want to do this?'

'Tomorrow morning should be okay; if that's okay with you? Everyone's too tired to do it now.'

He gave a relieved smiled when she nodded her agreement. As he made to leave, he briefly looked back.

'Oh, on a better note; your friend Gerry? Canola says she drinks the way she does because – and sure, she makes sure she hides it well, seemingly so comfortable in her skin, eh? – she feels inadequate. _Incomplete_ , as Canola put it. Like there's an emptiness there she needs to fill. If we're talking shadows, she's just a shadow of what she could be.'

Epona was waiting for him. And Tull.

They looked at Beth blankly, only turning away as Galilee returned to them.

*

A little bit of nose straightening can't do any harm, you said!

Well, if it upsets you dear, we can always change it back.

No no! I'm not falling for letting you get a little more control over me again! I think you've done enough damage!

_Damage? I_ have _noticed you haven't complained about the little tidying up we gave to your ears, dear._

Shut it!

Although Beth couldn't hear the music, a large group of people had broken into a happy dance.

It was odd, seeing them all rhythmically moving together, as all Beth could hear was the loud chatting going on around her.

She jumped when, all of a sudden, she heard the vigorously plucked strings of a harp.

Panicked, she glanced about the room.

Canola was hunched over her harp in a corner, her back moving sorrowfully as she plucked at her magical harp.

There was a burst of raucous laughter as the dancers parted slightly. Khalid made his way through them in his own curious combination of leaping skips and high twirls.

He was playing what Beth took to be a lyre.

She laughed with relief, joining in with the clapping, tapping her feet to Khalid's joyful tune.

Canola spun around on her stool to face the room.

She looked strained, sorrowful.

She began to silently weep.

*

# Chapter 60

They woke to a rainy morning.

Beth was glad to see the rain. It showed that some things hadn't changed after all.

The windows had been thrown open, people gathering at them with a mix of bemusement and joy on their faces.

'It's the rain; the rain's making the noise!'

'How can it be the rain?' another guffawed. 'It's like music.'

'Music _passing_ though the rain?' A young girl looked to the others to see if they agreed with her. 'Being _carried_ by the rain, perhaps?'

At first, Beth assumed they were as happy to see and hear the rain as she was. But as she drew closer, she heard the music they were referring to.

It was plaintive yet somehow ethereally beautiful.

'Like a whale; it's like the calling whales make.'

'Erm, but whale song is passed through water, not rain,' someone replied doubtfully. 'Rain's nowhere near dense enough to carry it.'

'Still, that's what it sounds like,' said another.

'It's being _forced_ through the rain; magically forced.'

Galilee had come up alongside them. His face was pale and drawn. He looked exhausted.

'I recognise the song. I've heard Canola humming it!'

Tull was there too. He looked back at Galilee, his face creased with apprehension.

'It's Canola out there, I'm sure of it. I haven't come across her anywhere this morning.'

'We'll follow the sound an–'

'You! It was you!'

Spotting Beth by one of the windows, Tull pointed accusingly at her.

'You knew she was going to try and find out who you really are!'

Beth felt herself being forced back against her will, bowling aside the unfortunate people around her.

It was like innumerable swift, hard sword strikes constantly slamming against a shield or armour.

She sensed that Lynese was somehow protecting her. She sensed, too, that had she been a lesser character, each one of these vicious blows would have harmed her.

Beth knew she had to strike back.

However, instead of directing powerful plumes of water at Tull, as she had expected, she found herself emanating nothing more than what seemed to be a harmless haze.

Even so, the slamming immediately stopped.

Tull was no longer directing his attack at her but, crazily, at a heavily muscled man standing alongside her. The man fell back, screaming in agony until he managed to erect a defensive cocoon of wailing musical waves.

Almost immediately, he launched an ear-piercing screech that struck and spun Tull around.

Suddenly, Tull was being pulled up off the floor in a chimney of tightly constraining, whirling air.

The man alongside Beth similarly fruitlessly writhed in frustration as he was lifted off the ground.

The air swirling around them bound them as securely as iron bands.

Galilee appeared to be in agony as he fought to control the powerful yet carefully directed columns of swirling air.

It was one thing, Beth reasoned, to use such powerful forces outside, another one completely to focus them so that they didn't cause harm to anyone nearby.

Galilee was staring at her with something approaching total bewilderment in his eyes.

Had he intended to trap her in a pillar of air too?

It would have made sense; she had been a part of the tussle after all. And Tull would have expected it; how will he react to being humiliated while she was spared?

But if Galilee had tried to entrap her, why hadn't it affected her?

'What are you doing?' Galilee demanded angrily of Tull as he slowly released his captives. 'You know we shouldn't be giving _anyone_ the reason to draw heavily on their powers!'

He couldn't help glancing fleetingly at Beth as he said 'anyone'.

Like it wasn't really just _anyone_ they were bothered about, thought Beth.

'But I _know_ it's Canola out there!' Tull retorted angrily. 'I just know it! Where is she?'

'You should be sure of the answer to that question _before_ you begin accusing someone of being responsible,' Epona stated brusquely.

Having both heard and sensed the use of magic, Epona had hurriedly joined them.

'Well why is _that_ like one of her songs?'

Tull indicated one of the opened windows with a waved hand, drawing everyone's attention back to the pleading melody.

'I'm sure we can follow the music–'

'Yes, yes!' Tull was so worried he didn't care that he had interrupted Galilee. 'But please; we need to ride there _now_!'

'I'll organise the horses.' Epona whipped around, making for the door.

'No Epona,' Galilee insisted, 'if Tull's coming, I need you to organise the defences! Nothing happened last time, but it doesn't mean it won't this time!'

'Then you need Heddy,' Epona said. 'She's a natural with the horses.'

'I'm coming with you!' Beth stepped forward. 'If only to see what it is I've been accused of!'

For a moment, it seemed as if Galilee would refuse.

'Okay,' he said. 'We need to move quickly. We've lost enough time.'

As if to back up his call for urgency, the whale song became a long, melancholy wail.

*

As the horses pounded across the fields, they threw up wave after wave of water from the sodden ground.

The heavy rain struck hard and painfully against horse and rider. Beth was tempted to hold the water back, but knew Galilee would frown upon such a misuse of energy, particularly by her.

The mournful whale song led them through the thick, grey veils of rain.

Through eyes squinting against the sharply stabbing raindrops, they finally saw the dark, hazy shape of what appeared to be a hill looming up before them.

But they all knew what it really was.

The song vibrated pityingly as the whale either sensed their presence or saw their arrival.

'Who could _do_ such a thing?' Galilee screamed angrily through the pouring rain.

Did he mean who could do something so monstrous? Or was he wondering who had the power to achieve it? Beth couldn't be sure.

Tull urged his mount into an extra burst of speed. He leapt down to the ground as soon as he drew up alongside the immense, dark walls of the whale's sides.

'Canola, Canola! Who did this? Who could have done this to you?'

As he threw himself against the drenched, thick flesh, arms pleadingly outstretched, the whale responded with a mournful cry.

High above Tull, Canola's huge eye stared forlornly off into the distance, panicked and fearful. Her tailfin flapped tiredly, throwing up fountain after fountain of muddy water.

'She still seems to need water,' Beth cried as she quickly dismounted. 'Like we still need air!'

She immediately began to douse Canola in dense waves, water she pulled up from the ground and whipped together from the rain itself.

The waves sloshed and splattered everywhere, but no one minded; everyone was thoroughly drenched anyway.

'Heddy; is there a large lake or reservoir around here?'

Galilee looked towards Heddy hopefully, but she shook her head.

'Everything's all way too far away, I reckon. Even if you are intending on using magic to get there.'

'The hill...'

Beth regretted saying something so stupid even as it left her mouth. Now that she had gone so far, though, she decided that she might as well continue.

'The land's much lower around Silbury Hill, like there used to be a large lake or moat there. If I could draw on enough water, I could fill it. It's nowhere near deep enough for a whale though.'

'I'll handle that,' Galilee declared resolutely. 'We can only hope Canola's kept enough of her magical powers to live somewhere far from ideal.'

'What about the archaeologists there?' Beth remembered the small encampment that had grown around the hill's base.

'They moved out,' Heddy said. 'When things started getting strange and the army moved them on.'

'Makes sense,' Galilee said. 'The calendar's done its job.'

Having obviously overheard them, Tull swung around, jubilant and full of hope once more.

'A canal! We can build a canal to get her there!'

'Too much magic, too much,' Galilee protested. 'We'd be draining–'

'Just when _do_ we get to use magic?'

Tull angrily pointed off to one of the other fields.

'You left Barry trapped in that stone! Now it's Canola's life that isn't worth us using all this precious energy you want saving! When _do_ you begin to think–'

'I believe it's worth using _now_ , to save her!' Galilee cut Tull's rant short. 'We're going to be using masses of energy to create the lake! But we don't need a canal to get her there – trust me!'

Pulling his horse close, he smoothly remounted.

'Beth, if I can lift her up, can you help – perhaps by rippling the ground water beneath her? Some sort of floating waterbed?'

'I think so,' said Beth, reaching for her own mount.

'Mount up then everybody. Heddy, you lead the way.'

*

# Chapter 61

Galilee and Beth brought together strong, expertly applied air currents and swelling, rolling water drawn up from the soaked ground.

It was a flowing, fluid bed that first gently lifted Canola up from the ground then continued to support her as it slowly propelled her across the fields.

Thankfully, the ground was mostly quite flat. Any hedgerow, fence or gate that might have proved an obstacle was shredded in an instant by Tull's magically whirling blade. The sword leapt from his hand to thrash and cleave at its target as if wielded by an invisible giant.

Each time she saw this, Beth wondered how she would have fared if Tull had unleashed it against her during the training session.

What do you think? Could we have beaten that sword?

In my experience, it's simply better to ensure he doesn't use it against you.

It was an obvious statement, yet Lynese managed to give it a slightly mysterious edge. Was she answering a little more cryptically than it seemed?

'I'd heard that the depression surrounding the hill used to become flooded after heavy storms,' Heddy was explaining to Galilee. She had to shout to be heard over the rain, which was now falling harder than ever.

'It could have been constructed by the hill's builders to do exactly that,' Galilee yelled back. 'A surrounding lake would turn the hill into an island. That way it could only be approached by boat during the ceremonies.'

Earlier, Beth had admired Galilee's tight control of the columns of air used to restrain Tull and his opponent. Now she was achieving something similar in the way she had to carefully transform the falling rain into rolling waves.

She also had to keep up the heavier drenching required to keep Canola alive.

It was actually a huge advance on using vast plumes aggressively; it needed finesse, not the relatively blunt use of moving around thick waterspouts that knocked aside everything in their path.

Yet she was handling it all with surprisingly little trouble. And, despite Galilee's fears, Lynese seemed no closer to asserting her influence than before.

There was no discernable change in their relationship, in fact.

Silbury Hill rose up out of the grey sheets of rain like a long-lost pyramid, a huge, virtually conical mass dominating the landscape.

Each rider jerked slightly as the horses descended into the shallow depression surrounding the hill. The ground beneath the hooves was soft and spongy, already incredibly sodden.

The farther they made their way into the depression, the more marsh-like the earth became.

'Here, I think,' Galilee said finally, drawing his horse to a halt. 'We'll let Canola down here. Then we'll pull back to the edges of the depression.'

Canola emitted a long, thankful note as she was gently lowered onto the swampy ground.

Beth continued to bathe her in wave after wave of water, even as they turned their horses around and set them off in a vigorous trot back to the depression's rim.

Galilee didn't need to explain what he intended to do.

As they had expected, the depression was too shallow to create a lake deep enough for Canola to survive in.

Galilee called up the most powerful winds Beth had yet seen him master, directing their power to scoop up turf, earth and rocks. They turned over the soil and ripped out the surrounding fence. They demolished the archaeologist's camp as completely as if it had been caught in the midst of a raging tornado.

The excavated earth was pushed off towards the edges of the natural depression, building up and solidly packing into a surrounding wall that would help increase the depth of the lake.

Beth felt the most incredible elation as she began to draw on the immense surfeit of water she could sense all around her.

She began to pull the streams of heavy rainfall together, concentrating their force until water began to fall in ever-increasing quantities across the depression. She also reached out to the areas where the rain had already fallen, drawing it up from the ground.

She channelled it into rivulets, that merged into streams, that merged into rivers.

The waters carved their own canals out of the earth, huge, silvery serpents rapidly spreading across the landscape.

They poured into the vast hollow being created by Galilee, a thrashing, angry, seemingly unstoppable deluge.

Beth revelled in controlling this miniature storm. It was a power beyond anything she had even dared to guess she might be capable of.

Tull stood to one side, balefully observing her through the raging wind and rain. Heddy cowered against the terrified horses, calming them as best she could.

As the rising, violently swirling waters began to lap around Canola, Galilee momentarily diverted a whirling blast to erode the mound of soil he had left beneath her.

With a joyfully melodic cry, she dipped beneath the waves, powering herself forward with an effortless, graceful flip of her tail.

'What if she's a _real_ whale? What if she's not partial spirit, like we are? How will we feed her?'

Tull screamed apprehensively though the rain. He angrily gripped the handle of his sheathed sword, frustrated that, despite its unbelievable capabilities, he was nevertheless powerless to help Canola.

'Whales need plankton!' he screamed.

'We'll get Epona out here as soon as we get back,' Galilee roared in reply. 'She might have an answer.'

Overhearing their shouted conversation, Beth yelled irritably, 'Epona? What's she know about whales?'

'Probably nothing,' Galilee admitted. 'But when it comes to healing springs and crops, well, Epona's the one you need to talk to. I don't know of any goddess of plankton, do you?'

In spite of her annoyance that Epona was once again being spoken of in such glowing terms, Beth continued to work in careful coordination with Galilee.

She began stemming the flow of her rivers as Galilee began to close the gaps he had left in the high banks he had created. When they judged that the storm alone would be enough to complete the filling up of the lake, Galilee sealed off and filled in the very last of the gaps.

The rain fell fast and furious, exploding across the new lake like heavy machinegun bullets.

Strangely, the storm was now so contained that – as if Beth had drawn in just about every large drop of water – the weather beyond had improved immeasurably, the rain now nothing more than the lightest drizzle.

Beth smiled.

She felt wonderful.

Yes, she was exhausted, drained. But she was also more excited than she had ever been.

She felt, somehow, so incredibly _happy_. So amazingly _fortunate_ to be Bethlehem Jones.

She felt whole, like this was who she really was. This was who she was meant to be.

She had no doubts, no worries.

Galilee was staring at her worriedly.

Tull was glaring at her doubtfully.

Heddy was looking at her with a beaming smile.

Galilee glowered anxiously. But his eyes were no longer on Beth. He was fretfully gazing up into the sky.

'Can you feel it? The depletion?'

'You used an amazing amount of energy,' agreed Tull.

'But...it's still being used. And it's not just Beth's control of the storm.'

With a few waves and a few hand signals, he indicated to Beth that he wanted her to let the storm ease off naturally.

She immediately ceased the drawing in of rain and water soaked clouds. The storm instantly lost its confined rage, its lacerating power.

In seconds it was nothing more than a heavy rain, peculiarly restricted to a bizarrely small area.

'There...feel it now?'

Galilee looked to Tull and Beth for confirmation.

Tull uneasily scanned the areas beyond the hill.

'What sort of power does it take to use energy over such a wide area?'

'Look!'

Heddy, incapable of sensing the energy loss, hadn't been staring up into the air. She had been looking out across the fields, where she pointed now.

'What _is_ that?'

The fields were turning a dirty brown.

It was like a swift flood of shallow, incredibly filthy water, rapidly spreading across the landscape.

'On the other side too.'

Beth pointed to the left of the lake. Stretching for miles, in a huge, sharply defined curve, the brown flood rushed across the grass and the wheat.

The fields beyond the hill were being similarly flooded, a brown tide advancing towards them surprisingly swiftly.

Taking in the way the huge curve was forming, extending out to either side of the lake, Tull looked back in the direction of the farmhouse.

'I reckon it's surrounding the farm, whatever it is.'

It was a colossal circle, rapidly tightening around the farm.

'We're under attack!'

Galilee dashed towards his horse. No one needed to be told what to do. They all began to mount up as quickly as they could.

It wasn't quickly enough.

The brown waves poured and curled around the edges of the lake, sweeping towards them.

'Rats! It's millions and millions of rats!' Heddy shrieked.

*

# Chapter 62

Squealing and snapping, the rats leapt and sprang and ran across man, woman and horse.

They threatened to cover the riders as effortlessly as they had covered the fields.

Heddy continued to shriek in terror and disgust, trying to dash them from her hair, her arms, her legs. Suddenly, she was helped by Tull's whirling sword. It slashed around her as if it would strike her but, instead, split apart rat after rat. Blood and fur splattered into the air.

Tull had successfully sprung up onto his horse, despite the way it reared, jerked and lashed out in horrified panic at the rats attempting to clamber up its legs. Galilee had also mounted up. Pulling together two fiercely swirling gusts, he sent them tearing through the massed ranks of rats on either side.

Temporarily at least, it kept off the worst of the brown hordes scrambling towards them.

Beth, like Heddy, had been too close to the oncoming rats to jump on her horse before they arrived.

They swarmed over both her and her horse, screeching furiously as they dug into clothes and horseflesh with claw and tooth.

She hadn't tried it before, but just as she had seen Galilee delicately wield his whirling winds, she brought up tightly controlled plumes of water to strike each rat individually, casting them off with surprised and frustrated shrieks.

Heddy and Beth swung up onto their mounts, the sword and plumes of water taking care of the last of the rats snapping at the horses' legs.

With a sharp pull on the reins, everyone whirled their horse around. With a jab of heels or knees, they urged their mounts into an urgent gallop.

They found themselves charging through yet more rats, thousands of them, all of whom had ignored the small party to continue their encircling of the farm.

The violently pounding hooves squashed or threw up rats like they were autumn leaves, only leaves that screeched and snapped furiously.

Sword, wind and water whirled, ripping through the brown legions.

Then, suddenly, they riders were clear, effortlessly leaving the relatively slower-moving rats behind them.

Their grins of relief vanished as they glanced across the surrounding landscape.

They were now trapped within the vast, encircling army of rats.

And the circle was shrinking rapidly, closing in around the farm.

*

As they rode towards the farm, they could see defences being rapidly, magically, constructed.

In the same way that Galilee had hollowed out and created the high embankments surrounding the lake, whirling blasts of wind and water were gouging out a huge circular trench from the ground.

The excavated soil was thrown up and packed down as an inner earthwork barrier.

The riders headed for a gap that appeared to have been deliberately left open for them. Even as they hurtled though it, the gap was instantly filled in directly behind them by churning gusts of air.

'Rats! Thousands of them!' Galilee cried out as he leapt down from his horse.

'We've seen them!' Folster cried.

He had to shout to be heard over the screech of tearing, displaced earth, the roar of the winds, the thunder of rolling waves.

'Or, at least,' Folster added, 'we got James here to take a gander.'

'Millions, more like!' said the teenage boy standing close to Folster. 'I wouldn't have believed there were so many in the whole of Britain!'

Beth wasn't sure whether James had had a closer look at the oncoming rats through some magical insight or by changing into something like a bird.

She handed over the reins of her mount to Heddy who, as they had urgently dismounted, had insisted on taking care of the horses. Then, following Galilee and Tull, she raced up the steps running up the inside of the freshly constructed ramparts.

A great many men, women and teenagers were already there, having already taken up position on a walkway sheltered behind a high parapet.

Lacking the power of Galilee and Beth, a surprisingly high number of people were still involved in erecting and forming the defences. As well as wind and water, the very earth itself was being manipulated, with soil and rocks moving and shifting under invisible commands.

While some turned over huge mounds of soil, others took on the more delicate work of forming the necessary steps and walkways, utilising both recently unearthed stone and wood magically torn from nearby buildings.

A few spells were already taking their toll on the oncoming rats, even though each spell's power naturally weakened over such long distances. Wind, water, fire, noise, lightning, concentrated storms and upending earth were all wreaking havoc.

'I can't imagine how much energy is being used here,' an obviously impressed Galilee observed. 'And over a vast area too. Rounding them up, controlling them.'

He glanced down at the large array of people hurriedly constructing the trench and walls.

'So why isn't some of that energy being used to destroy our defences?'

'It might be; when they're closer,' Beth pointed out.

Beth's own swirling funnels of water required only the most basic directions to whip up and aggressively toss aside hundreds of rats every second.

As an awestruck James declared in an anguished cry from below, however, the reinforcements seemed to be endless. The brown flood stretched out across the landscape as if it were enveloping the whole world.

Millions; James had said there were millions of them. More than he believed could have possibly existed in the whole of Britain.

Beth turned to Galilee.

'Galilee, I–'

She was drowned out by a thunderous blast.

On Tull's urgently yelled command, those who had been ordered to conserve their energy threw a multitude of extra spells at the rapidly encroaching rats.

The front lines of rats were close enough now to be seen as individual creatures, each one pushing itself into a frenzied, headlong rush as if its life depended on it.

The brown flood swarmed into the ditch.

It rushed up the embankment.

Squealing, snapping, gnashing.

And then they were leaping over the parapet, leaping on everyone who was there.

*

# Chapter 63

As a mass, the rats had been an easy target.

Individually, flying through the air, latching onto arms, legs, faces, they were impossible to hit except by the most experienced or powerful of magicians.

In the panic, bluntly wielded spells struck humans rather than rodents.

Whereas Beth, Galilee and Tull had found it relatively easy to remove the rats earlier, their spells being delicately meted out, few others possessed a similar level of skill. The injuries inflicted would have been severe if the inner spirits hadn't instinctively applied defensive cocoons protecting them from the worst effects of other magic.

Still, everywhere people were being sent flying through the air, or painfully rolling across the ground.

The rats, too, seemed impervious to the pain that should have repelled them. They broke though the energy shields to claw, bite and tear.

'Stop using magic if you can't control it!'

Galilee didn't bother yelling out his order. Using magic himself, he sent his command flowing around the farm.

It was heard even above the uproar of screams, cries, screeching, squealing and clap and bang of spells.

Utilising everything they came across as springboards, the rats moved swiftly and unpredictably. Their small size and speed saved many of them time after time from being shredded, fried or crushed by bursts and pulsating waves of air, sound, water, fire, lightning and even plumes of earth.

Tull's sword was a blur of movement, chopping at the rats attempting to force their way into the barns where the horses were stabled. Inside, Heddy and Drek's fiercely brandished shovels landed heavily on any rat that made its way past the whirling blade.

Even Beth found it difficult to hit individual rats. There were too many people rushing around, moving every bit as erratically as her targets.

She was constantly weakening or hanging back from releasing a spell to avoid striking the person she was trying to help. Defensive shields became a hindrance rather than a help, as they held back the swirling waters that would have dashed aside the scrabbling, squealing rats.

'Galilee!' she cried out 'How can there be _so_ many? Are they _all_ real?'

Galilee paused,

'An _illusion_ , you mean?'

With a magical shrug, he shed the rats that had clambered over him.

'Yes, of course! That's why energy wasn't wasted destroying our defences! _Most_ of them are just an illusion!'

'But which ones? And how many?'

Knowing that the majority of rats attacking them didn't actually exist hardly seemed to help them; they couldn't just hold off from protecting themselves without letting the real rats through.

Which were the real rats? Which were the illusions?

'James!' Galilee yelled back to where they had last seen the scrawny teenager.

He wasn't there.

Galilee and Beth moved through the chaos, nonchalantly keeping the rats away with the deft control of wind and water, searching for James.

They found him cowering amongst the waste and clutter that had been thrown down the side of a small shed. He was trembling with horror and disgust as he flicked off any rats finding their way to him.

Galilee reached for him, pulled him to his feet.

'Sor...sorry!' James wailed. 'M...my powe...powers are useless against these horrible things!'

'Just the opposite James! Show me the attack!'

'But...but you can _see_ it!'

James aimlessly, nervously, waved a hand to indicate the commotion taking place around them.

'You don't need a close up!'

_'Show_ me! Show me as _much_ of it as you can!'

'Yo...you mean like this?'

The air between them rippled as if it were a hovering pool of water. It revealed what, at first, seemed to be an overhead shot of the rat assault on the farm.

But Beth realised that, with only the slightest move of her head, she could see everything in three dimensions. Faintly, she could even hear the sounds; the screeching and squealing of the rats, the cries of men and women, the booms and crashes.

'Pull back,' Galilee ordered brusquely. 'Pull back so I can see the _whole_ farm!'

James didn't move even a finger, yet the view of the attack changed so that every part of the farm could be seen.

It was a view more terrifying than the reality taking place around them. Beth could now see the endless waves of rats descending on the farm.

'Now, help me Machal!'

Galilee momentarily closed his eyes to aid his concentration. Perhaps, Beth reasoned, he was speaking out loud with a similar aim.

'What can I do?' he asked hopefully.

Galilee plunged his hands into the scene floating before them.

Instantly – even though there was no effect on the cacophony of human cries and the magic spells – the frenzied squealing of the rats faded away to almost nothing.

Within the hovering picture, hundreds of thousands of rats had vanished, along with their shrieking.

There were still thousands of them, but nowhere near the amount the farm's defenders believed they were dealing with.

'Now, Machal; how can I allow everyone to see what I see?'

Just as Galilee had spread his voice around the farm earlier, the image before them began to grow and extend past them.

It grew and spread until it was fully life size, an image overlaying reality.

The truth overlaying illusion.

As Galilee withdrew his hands from what was now only the rippling centre of the image, he somehow transformed it all into shades of red.

Only the real rats, suffused with their moving image, took on the same bloody tones.

'Only the red rats are real!' Galilee's voice once again reached all the way across the farm. 'Deal only with them!'

Repelling an attack by thousands of organised rats is still a formidable task.

But it is far easier to deal with than an assault by apparently endless hordes.

At last, spells could be more carefully and directly targeted. There was a hardly person there, too, who hadn't taken the risk of drawing on more of the power and experience of their inner spirit.

So, bit by bit, more and more rats were finally being taken care of.

The sense of confusion and commotion diminished with every passing minute.

But Galilee was far from happy.

'What's wrong?' Beth asked. 'It will all be over soon enough now. The attack's failed.'

'Has it?'

He turned to her as he casually dashed a number of rats against a wall, breaking their backs.

'How much energy have we thrown away? And on what was mainly an illusion too? An illusion that has itself used up vast reserves.'

'Less energy for us means less energy for them too,' Beth said.

'That depends who "them" is. If they've got any sense, they'll keep their distance. They'll draw on the energy reserves to their rear and out of our reach. So–'

The rapid clatter of a charging horse distracted him.

A mounted Epona was rushing towards them, the rats that survived the pounding hooves falling to the claws and beaks of three birds closely flocking about her. The birds dived and swooped and clutched and rived excitedly at the rats.

'I think an army is on its way,' Epona cried, nimbly sliding down from her horse. 'Equas–' she indicated her mount with a nod – 'says he felt the ground rumbling.'

Beth glared irritably at Epona.

She failed to see how Epona's horse – no matter how intelligent he was – could have let her know that the rumbling he had felt was a sign of an oncoming army.

But before she could raise this objection, there was a flurry of wings as a fourth bird swiftly descended alongside them.

Wings, body and legs abruptly lengthened, grew and stretched. Before it touched the ground, the bird had transformed into an elegant, fair-haired woman.

'It is an army,' she announced. 'Just regular soldiers, though. Not a magical one that I can see.'

'Clever; they don't need magical energy,' Epona said.

'Doubly clever,' Galilee added, grimacing anxiously. 'If we start killing humans, we're no better than the enemy.'

'So even if we win,' the fair-haired woman said, 'we lose.'

*

# Chapter 64

'What have they got with them, Cleiona?'

Galilee led the way back towards where they had left James conjuring up his image of the attack.

'Tanks or horses? Artillery?'

'Yes, tanks, artillery; a fully equipped, modern army.' The fair-haired woman, Cleiona, spoke grimly. 'Though no planes, obviously.'

Even as she spoke, the ground beneath them began to ominously rumble and shake.

Beyond the waning noise of the rats' flagging assault, the dull metallic clank of heavy, slowly rolling machines could be heard.

James stared unblinkingly as he controlled the rippling centre of his image.

'James,' Galilee said, 'we need you again.'

Once more, Galilee plunged his hands into the hovering, undulating heart of the scene.

'Machal – we need a quick resolution!'

Epona shared a wary, concerned glance with Beth; was Galilee calling on Machal too deeply and too regularly for his own good? Was he in danger of losing himself completely?

A flickering blue light flowed around Galilee's hands. Abruptly, the light flew off in all directions, sparking towards the rats.

With a sizzle and a screech, each rat – whether in the middle of a leap or rushing up a leg, whether inside or outside a defensive cocoon – instantly dropped dead to the floor.

'Withdraw the image and give me a new one,' Galilee said to James as he pulled his hands back. 'We have a new army attacking us!'

'A new one?' James shuddered. 'Don't tell me; it's not millions of cockroaches, is it?'

As James opened up a new image, Galilee grinned.

'Not really; but I suspect there might be something even worse in those tanks!'

He pointed to the armoured flanks of the oncoming army. The highly mechanised battalions were swiftly and proficiently moving into position outside the farm.

'Is there any way you can take me inside one of them?'

James shook his head.

'No, sorry.'

Galilee probed deeper inside the image with his pointing finger, letting it pass through the sides of one of the virtual tanks.

The scene instantly changed.

Everyone abruptly felt like they were actually inside the cramped, claustrophobic interior of the tank.

A tank whose electronic systems were being helped to function with a little glowing, sizzling magic.

A tank crewed by demons.

James shivered.

'What the...what _are_ those things?'

'Something to give them an extra advantage,' Epona growled angrily.

'And to ensure they create a literally bloody mayhem.' Galilee scowled.

It was one more of the many, interlinked problems being cleverly stacked up against him. He withdrew his hand, the image returning once more to an overview of the army making its preparations to attack.

'The humans are just here to be sacrificed.'

'If we gather enough of us together with the capability, we could put all the humans to sleep, or under a holding spell,' Cleiona said.

She stared with mounting concern at the young soldiers taking up their attack positions.

'That way we could deal with the demons separately.'

Beth found it odd, and not a little disquieting, that they had begun to casually refer to 'humans' as if they were now a completely separate race to themselves.

'I believe they'll attack before enough energy has been replenished to allow us to put them to sleep.'

Galilee turned to Beth as if he knew she might require further explanation.

'Delicate surgery takes more skill than killing someone.'

Cleiona, tall and slender, her long hair hanging about her like a silver curtain, stood up straight.

Having made her own decision, she required no further observation of the hovering image.

'Then we have no choice,' she said. 'We have to retreat.'

*

Interesting, don't you think, how lover boy calls on Machal's powers like he's ringing up a free helpline?

He's putting himself at risk for us. Haven't you seen how haggard he looks?

Haggard? I know people who've looked worse after a restless night's sleep; which is the only problem he's really suffering. All that responsibility on such young shoulders. Notice, though, how all that exhaustion just simply disappears once he calls up Machal?

He doesn't want to call him up. He doesn't have any choice.

_Ah, that's the way he explains it, is it?_ He _doesn't have any choice, poor dear. But_ you _, of course,_ do _have the choice – and therefore you really shouldn't draw on the huge potential just waiting inside you, should you? Oh no; only_ he's _allowed to do that. For the good of you all, of course!_

So what do you think would have happened to us if he hadn't called up Machal? We'd all be rat food, wouldn't we?

Precisely my point too dear! Sometimes, there are perfectly good reasons for drawing on your inner power, obviously. And what harm has it really done him, do you think? You say he's a bit tired, diddums. Is that this great retribution he's been warning you about? You end up feeling a bit tired?

Aren't you listening? He did it to save us!

So, would you do it, then, if you could save everyone?

Save everyone? Me? Oh, wait – you! You mean _you_ , of course!

Of course I mean me! I admit that darling! But I can only do it through you. I can only do it if you allow me. The way lover boy allowed Machal to – well, literally – work his magic. And don't you think he'd do it again if he knew it would save you once more?

Yes, of course he would.

_Sooo...we get back to_ us _, darling! Why won't you allow it, even though you know it could save everyone?_

Well, for one thing – how do I know you can really save everyone? How do I know this isn't just a trick? How can a water fay stop an army?

_Haven't you ever heard of_ charm _? A_ mermaid's _charm? Men just go simply crazy whenever they come under a mermaid's spell darling!_

*

'There's another army approaching.'

James delicately ran a long-fingered hand over his image. He drew out a cloudy edge to one side as if it were a smaller screen. This showed another, far hazier part of the action.

'Would you like me to take a look at it?'

Galilee peered curiously at what was only a hint of a mass of men, a mass of blue.

'Another army?'

'Arthur?' Epona managed to say it both hopefully yet doubtfully.

'Too far away,' Cleiona pointed out.

Using his hands as if he were drawing out and moulding the softest clay, James gently pulled at the smaller image until it became the dominant one. The original scene was now exiled to the outer edges as a misty splurge of colour.

Everyone's eyebrows rose in surprise.

The men lithely and athletically rushing across the fields were naked. Their skin was adorned with large, elaborate tattoos of blue and red.

Their only armaments were spears, axes, swords and bows and arrows.

'If this is what I think it is, this makes things worse than ever.'

Galilee glanced back at Cleiona and Epona with a stern, perhaps even fearful expression.

'It's bad,' he mumbled worriedly. 'Very, very bad.'

*

# Chapter 65

Beth hadn't been around to see the arrival of the new army.

Feeling exhausted, and not a little dizzy, she had drifted away from those gathering around the hovering images.

She was seeking somewhere quiet and out of the way to sit down for a moment.

Finding a pile of old tractor tyres stored behind a decrepit barn, she sat down amongst them, resting her head against the barn's corrugated steel sides. With a grateful sigh, she closed her eyes.

She relaxed.

She felt light-headed.

Gloriously light-headed. Like all her cares had left her.

She was flying, like a bird.

A flap of her arms – no, her wings – sent her propelling quickly through the wonderfully cool air.

Freedom!

*

Beth could almost have believed she was actually flying over the army assembling below.

But it was obviously nothing more than a strange illusion, for she could also make out a more dream-like, ghostly gathering taking place on the army's edges.

A mass of naked, tattooed giants, over eight feet tall.

They moved swiftly, through weaving, swirling mists.

They would vanish in the clouds, only to abruptly reappear elsewhere, often having moved a ridiculously unbelievable distance in an instant.

They seemed to momentarily transform into the mist itself, almost as if they were an actual part of the eddying haze.

Who needs the fields of Troy

When we can bring together man and boy

Throw them together

And anger them so

Then loose the tether...

They'll choose the way, though

There was a whoosh of air, a short blast of heat.

A ball of flame passed incredibly close to the edge of one of Beth's darkly feathered wings.

Another followed, then another.

They were like arrows tipped with fire, dropping towards the army of regular soldiers below her.

But within less than a second there were too many of them to be arrows. They fell like a furious rain, causing panic and confusion amongst the soldiers vainly attempting to avoid them.

Men called out in agony as they felt the pointed flame burning right through them.

The soldiers fired back at the oncoming giants. They screamed in frustration, the bullets harmlessly passing through the naked men.

The giants seemed as insubstantial as the thickening mist.

Abruptly, the giants were beside them. Then the giants were behind them.

Then their friends were crumpling to the ground, screaming and mortally wounded.

Bodies were torn apart by bullets aimed at the giants. Other soldiers fell shrieking with terror beneath the churning tracks of their own chaotically moving tanks. The crews were inhuman in their indifference to the suffering they were causing.

Beth swooped down amongst them, cawing, screaming. It only alarmed and panicked the men even more.

_Over there, there are more men attacking over there!_ she warned.

There are too many for you! Run, run!

But, of course, she was a bird. And so her warnings didn't come from her, but from the corpses lying around her.

Worse still, some of the corpses and the wounded began to rise again, the flesh shredding horrifically, ominously.

Then the bodies seemed to explode, the flesh flying off like an abattoir truck carelessly spilling its load.

Odrads. Holaks. And other demons Beth didn't recognise.

To the soldiers, of course, they were all just monsters. The like of which they had never seen even in their worst nightmares.

The soldiers' fiercely sprayed bullets were simply absorbed into thick, incredibly malleable flesh.

Odrad flesh, of course, took on the attributes of the bullets, transforming into an explosive steel. The tips of their exploring tentacles shattered their victims with the slightest touch.

In the chaos, demon attacked demon. Even a tank would swiftly fall silent once an odrad had slipped inside.

Others were battered into nothing more than heaps of warped metal by groups of berserk holaks.

Soon only a handful of scared, confused soldiers were left.

_Run!_ a corpse hissed, a large black crow landing upon its chest and picking at the ragged flesh.

And they ran.

*

Beth shook her head when she woke, hoping to clear it of a lingering drowsiness and memories of the horrific dream.

Her head was slightly sore where she had rested it against the barn's hard metal. Rising to her feet, she set off to look for Galilee once more.

Everywhere she went, people appeared to be shocked, perhaps even horrified.

At first Beth couldn't understand it. Then she recalled that, just before she had sidled off to have a well-earned rest, James had brought up a view of the army preparing to attack them.

An army of tanks, heavy artillery and well-armed soldiers.

Like the one she had seen in her dream, crazily firing upon each other as they tried to resist an onslaught of ghostly giants.

Thankfully, the army gathering outside the farm obviously hadn't attacked yet. If everyone had agreed with Cleiona that they would have to retreat, however, that would go some way to explaining the nervousness of the people passing her.

Not that it seemed as if there were a great deal of preparation going on for deserting the farm.

'Beth, Beth!' Galilee trotted up alongside her. 'Where have you been?'

'Oh, sorry Galilee.'

Beth was surprised that Galilee seemed to be every bit as apprehensive as the others.

'I just needed a rest. Are we getting ready to move out?'

She glanced about her once again, trying to pick out any signs that people were beginning to pack things away.

'Retreating? Didn't you see what happened?'

Galilee seemed bemused, but it was nothing compared to Beth's growing confusion.

What could have happened in the short time – well, she had assumed it had been a short time – she had been asleep?

'What? What happened? As I said, I've been asleep?'

'The army turned on itself! It was...terrible. _Really_ terrible. The worst thing I've ever seen!'

Turned on itself? Like in her dream? Surely, no; not like _that_!

'I...I don't understand,' Beth stammered uncertainly. 'How...how could it turn on itself?'

'There's only one way that I could see it happening like that.'

Galilee grimaced anxiously, biting his lip bitterly.

'Morrigan. I suppose we knew she'd have to show up sometime soon!'

'Morrigan!'

'You've heard of her?'

Galilee couldn't fail to notice that something in Beth's tone implied she recognised the name.

'Yes, yes – as I told Tull, she was the one who attacked Lynese! But...that doesn't make any sense! If she's against us, why would she destroy an army sent to destroy us?'

Galilee cynically chuckled.

'Causing confusion in a battle like that is just a delicious game for Morrigan. The army isn't lost to her; the soul of everyone killed in battle ends up being hers to use however she wants.'

Isn't that what Tull had also said?

That she transforms the souls, makes them her own?

Beth hadn't really thought much about it at the time. Yet now, for some reason, she connected it for the first time with what her mum had said; that she was living amongst badly injured spirits, spirits just waiting around for some sort of call up or something.

'Beth?'

Galilee was observing her anxiously. With a jolt, Beth realised she must have drifted off for a moment, her fears etched on her face.

'What? Oh, my mum; I was just thinking of my mum! She said she was with all these spirits. These horribly mangled spirits.'

She stared directly into Galilee's eyes, demanding an honest answer from him.

'You don't think...you don't think the way she died could be...well, you know... thought of as a battle?'

Galilee stared back, both concerned and stern.

'When you told me you'd talked to her, you didn't say where you thought she'd come from.'

'That's important?'

It dawned on her that Galilee hadn't directly answered her question.

'You...you think she might be in a place where she can be...called up? Called up by Morrigan to fight for her!

Galilee reached out and tenderly held her by her arms.

'The firemen who mistakenly killed your mum; as far as they were concerned, Beth, they were the advance guard. Taking part in the first of many battles to come.'

'Then...then mum is still in danger? Even though she's dead?'

*

# Chapter 66

'I have to go,' Galilee said. 'We'll talk about this later. This thing with Morrigan; it's unnerving quite a few people. Even those who don't know about her, but are picking up all the rumours that are flying around. Nobody but you, Beth, could have missed all those explosions and gun shots that were going on out there.'

He ended with a smile, a fleeting, tender clutching of her hands. But as he walked off, his concerned frown had returned.

So, your charm wasn't required after all, Lynese. Sorry I fell asleep. It would have been better for those poor soldiers if I'd let you have your way.

Well, I agree, it might have been awful what happened out there. But it did save our own poor little army from having to defend this poor little farm, didn't it?

I suppose so – but aren't you scared? The Morrigan! The woman who attacked you! And would have probably killed you too, if Merlin hadn't decided to suddenly scoop you all up and...and...well, sort of put you all out of harm's way for a while.

_Out of harm's way? I think the word you're looking for, darling, is_ imprisonment _!_

Okay, okay, we've already been through all this haven't we? I wasn't the one who caused it, remember? And I'm actually trying to help here by seeing it all from your side for once! I'm beginning to understand now what it must have been like for you, having to face this horrible Morrigan woman. How could she do that? All those poor soldiers! Tricking them into killing each other!

Poor soldiers? They were going to kill us, dear! Let's not forget that, shall we? Would you have preferred that, rather than them fortunately killing each other? You're still looking at it with all those dreadful old human sensibilities that aren't applicable any longer. Look at it from a perspective where death is no longer what you conceive it to be. Morrigan works magic with the blood of the slain. Crows don't kill people; they eat and transform their bodies.

A crow? Why did Lynese just mention a crow? Beth wondered.

Had Lynese also witnessed her dreams?

Rather than asking this, however, Beth said instead;

Lynese, you're talking as if you agree with what she did; almost like you admire her!

_Don't just accept lover-boy's jaundiced view of her darling. Why shouldn't we respect –_ admire _is probably too strong a word, darling – someone who wields magic so skilfully? Did you know – but of course you didn't! – that she has knowledge of humanity's fate? Wouldn't you like to experience the power she wields?_

Of course not! Why would I want that sort of awful power?

Beth, Beth! We both saw and felt how elated you were when you brought up the storms that saved Canola!

That's _completely_ different! That was for something good! Not something evil! We were saving Canola, as you've just said!

Beth, you can't fool me! I'm here, deep inside you, a part of you. You weren't elated because you were saving her! You were excited by the thrill of having all that incredible power cursing through you. The thrill of conjuring up storms and creating rivers, and making it rain and rain as if it were the end of the world! And did you feel any loss of control? This terrible thing that lover boy keeps on frightening you with? Of course not! It just doesn't have to happen that way Beth, trust me. Come on, admit it girl; you never, ever felt more in control in your life, did you, than when you were using all that glorious power? And we're capable of so much, much more Beth!

Like...like what Lynese? What _else_ can we do?

*

The thought of the powers Lynese could grant her made Beth feel a little dizzy, a little light-headed.

She was interrupted from her inner revelry only by the crash of a nearby shed exploding into flames.

Other blasts, crashes and yells immediately followed.

'We're under attack!' The scream came from far off.

'They're already inside!' A closer yell. Much closer.

Just ahead of Beth, a short, delicate girl was abruptly engulfed by a paralysing energy field. It effortlessly sucked through and absorbed her own shield.

But her own spell had already left her hands, as languid and deceptively harmless as a light mist. It curled tighter and tighter around its victim until his own shield was as suffocating as a tight wrapping of cellophane.

There were blasts, whooshes, gurgles and sizzles.

All manner of magic attack and defence was being utilised, whether it was fire, electrical fields, sound, air or rapidly moving or strangely behaving objects.

Beth found it impossible to tell whom she should be aiming her own spells at, or whom she should be defending herself against.

People she had seen earlier hanging around the farm were under attack from others she also recognised.

It was fortunate, after all, that the energy available was still low.

Fortunate too that few here had realised their full capabilities, as otherwise the damage and injuries would have been truly horrendous.

It was every bit as chaotic as the confused yet deadly battle she had seen taking place amongst the soldiers in her dream.

What was going on?

Had some of the people who had responded to Galilee's – Machal's – call intended this to happen all along? Had they just been waiting until an opportune moment to reveal their true allegiance?

Or had they changed their loyalties somewhere along the way, as they were increasingly made aware of the incredible, unbelievable power they now possessed?

Having only recently realised the full extent of the magical energy they could potentially control, had they decided that they would fight to retain it after all, rather than fighting for the benefit of the humans they once were?

'Satyrs! Demons! All around us!'

Beth looked around nervously. She had witnessed at first hand what odrads and holaks could do. Even with her new-found abilities, she didn't relish having to face them again.

But she couldn't see any nearby. They must be attacking another side of the farm.

Gerry, we need to rescue Gerry!

Gerry? Why Gerry?

Trust me! She's in danger! We must get her to safety!

Why harm Gerry? It doesn't make any sense!

Despite her doubts, Beth had set of running.

She urgently glanced about herself, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gerry.

But what she saw was Epona, as Epona could hardly be missed.

She was urging her horse Equas into a fierce gallop, deftly weaving in between the warring couples as if they were little more than minor obstacles.

And she was chasing Gerry.

A huffing, puffing, red-faced Gerry, close to collapsing from exhaustion.

*

# Chapter 67

The wave of water Beth drew up from the rain-soaked ground hit Epona and her horse hard.

Equas reared. He vainly tried to keep his balance. He toppled back.

Epona was flung from the saddle. They were both sent sprawling, washed along the ground like debris being cast ashore by a raging sea.

Beth rushed over to a stumbling, gasping Gerry.

Supporting Gerry as best she could, Beth led the way towards an alley leading between the farm's many outbuildings.

'What's going on? Why's Epona chasing you?'

'Search me, dearie!'

Gerry tried to sound like her more usually resilient self, but she spluttered and mumbled over her words. She aimlessly waved an arm in an effort to indicate the mayhem taking place around them.

'Why's all this going on, eh?'

'She _doesn't_ have a shadow!'

The cry came from behind them.

As Beth turned round to see who had cried out, a drenched Epona was being helped up from the sodden ground by an equally soaked man.

Epona was pointing, pointing towards Gerry.

'Where's her _shadow_?'

The man shivered and shook. He moved oddly, impossibly; and in a further quick shake, he was a beautifully athletic horse.

Epona was in the middle of springing onto his back as a vast plume of flame struck and curled around her defensive field.

'Demons, demons!' shrieked the man advancing on them

Beth's head whirled.

For the briefest moment, she wondered if Epona had been right.

The shadows being cast on the alley walls by the flames didn't seem to include the heavy mass that might be Gerry.

But then, even as Beth told herself the flames were throwing indistinguishable, vibrant shadows, Gerry's great, dark bulk appeared as if it had been merely hidden amongst the others.

'What _is_ going on Beth?'

Gerry fought to catch her breath as Beth, grabbing her hand and pulling her along, forced her into a stumbling run.

In here! This old barn!

It was a barn so ramshackle and full of holes that it hadn't been deemed fit for habitation, even though it would have helped house some of those who had flocked to the farm.

Its large, double doors were so warped they were permanently closed.

There was only a low, narrow gap that could be squeezed through, should anyone be desperate enough to try.

Beth and Gerry were desperate enough.

Beth slid through easily. She helped pull a complaining, cursing Gerry though.

The acrid breath of old, damp hay hit them.

Yet they threw themselves down upon the mouldy layers as if it were the most welcoming, softest bed in the world.

Their landing threw up clouds of dust and pollen that had lain undisturbed for years.

They coughed, choked, laughed with relief, the clouds growing around them.

Beth blinked.

Just how much dust was there in here?

The pounding of crashing spells continued outside, only slightly muffled by the dilapidated barn's walls. Beth even felt a burst of heat as, she presumed, a cascade of flames struck along the building's entire length.

The air around her crackled.

Her hair, like Gerry's, was standing on end. It seemed to be charged with an immense amount of static.

The dust clouds rolled, accumulated, rising up now towards the ceiling.

They expanded entirely across its width.

They were thick, impenetrable.

From their very centre, a deep, low voice boomed out.

'So you finally brought her to me. Well done.'

*

Beth leapt to her feet.

Instinctively, she withdrew Hew from the scabbard strapped to her back.

She eyed the churning clouds ominously, searching for any clue that might indicate what might be waiting for her in there.

'Gerry,' she hissed. 'Why did you bring me here?'

'Me?' Gerry was affronted. ' _You_ brought _me_ here!'

Some of the clouds appeared to be clearing.

Beth splayed her feet, preparing herself for any attack.

Suddenly, something small darted directly towards her from the midst of the clouds.

Automatically, Beth swung Hew up in a graceful, slicing curve.

But she missed.

A hawk whisked past her ear, so close that her skin tingled.

The clouds evaporated in an instant.

And the barn was abruptly plunged into darkness.

*

# Chapter 68

A light flared, flickered, then steadied.

Galilee was holding a magically-created ball of light in his hands.

'Galilee!' Beth exclaimed in relief.

'I followed you.'

Frowning uneasily, he held the light higher so it could illuminate more of the barn.

But the barn had disappeared. It had been replaced by a small, low room, with walls constructed of massive stone blocks.

'Where are we?' Looking about her in bewilderment, Gerry ungainly rose to her feet.

'Taking an educated guess – the lair of Horus.'

Galilee slowly turned, lighting up other areas of the room.

'A pyramid; it's like being in a pyramid.'

Beth touched the walls to prove to herself that they really existed. That they weren't an illusion.

'Horus? That the guy with the weird eye?' Gerry was the most unnerved of them all. 'Where's the way out of here?'

'Over there, I think.' Galilee stretched out his arm so that the light fell on an oblong of darkness tucked away in one of the corners. 'It looks like it could be a corridor.'

The corridor was even more claustrophobic than the room. It was narrow, and ridiculously low.

'So, this educated guess,' Beth said as they cautiously made their way down the corridor, Galilee leading the way. 'What makes you think it's Horus's lair? – apart from it looking a lot like a pyramid, of course.'

'The hawk. That was Horus himself, I'll bet. Then, of course, there's the reason why I followed you; because I noticed Gerry lost her shadow just before you scrambled into the barn.'

'Oh, not this nonsense again!' Glancing back, Gerry was reassured to see their merging, quivering shadows. 'How many – ohh no!'

Gerry gasped in horror as Galilee, whirling around and stepping towards her, held the light close to her. The shadow behind her vanished.

The only shadows now lay ahead of them, cast by Galilee and Beth alone.

'But that's impossible!' Gerry wailed. 'What's happening Beth?'

Beth angrily turned on Galilee. 'The hawk flew past me while Gerry was with me. So I really don't think she–'

'Me neither,' Galilee said, taking his place at their head once more.

They continued to wind their way along a corridor that dipped, curved, and turned at sharp angles. It was undoubtedly taking them ever lower into the ground.

'Horus is her shadow, Beth.'

'Her shadow? How can he be in a _shadow_?'

'That would have been my thoughts exactly, dearie, if it wasn't for the fact I've no longer got a shadow!'

Despite her attempts to sound assured, Gerry's voice quivered with a hint of panic.

'I should have thought of it before. But I didn't, until I saw all this–' with a wave of the light, Galilee indicated the stone corridor – 'and put it together with seeing Gerry without her shadow. See, Horus's wife, Iusaaset, was his own shadow. I reckon he's just somehow reversed that relationship. So that now _he's_ the one who's the shadow.'

'You're saying I'm his _wife_!'

Gerry was more affronted by this than any previous accusation, including the one that she might have been implicated in Foley's death.

'And, could I just add – are we doing the right thing heading deeper into this crypt, or whatever it is?'

'What choice do we have?'

Galilee stopped as they arrived at a wide, oak door set back into the wall on one side of the corridor. He glanced back at the others.

'Shhussh!' he whispered, tentatively reaching for the handle. 'This looks to be the only way out of the room we set off from, right?'

He said it as if he were asking for their permission to try the door. He tried it anyway.

For a moment, they were each dazzled by the light that flooded from the room into the corridor. It was a room far bigger than the one they had left behind them.

It was crammed to the ceiling with treasure of every kind, from gold plates to sparkling jewellery. The light emanated from glorious, multi-coloured gems containing their own inner light.

Amongst it all, disturbed by the opening of the door, a dragon stirred. His shimmering scales were every bit as beautiful as the horde he guarded.

'Now, getting back to what you were saying about you being Horus's wife...'

Quickly closing the door, Galilee set off down the corridor again, obviously expecting the others to follow.

'See, a bit like me and Beth here, I reckon that one of your ancestors unfortunately ended up being host to a magical spirit. One who was a whole lot more wicked and powerful than most.'

As he came to another door, Galilee once again took a peek inside.

He only gave himself enough time to check for any exits, but it gave Beth and Gerry a chance to peer inside. This room was even more remarkable than the last, as it easily extended over a number of acres.

Even more incredibly, it was not only a beautiful, living, breathing landscape, but also a landscape in miniature. There were fields, trees, lakes, seas, farms, ships, towns, and scudding clouds.

The miniature world even had its own rapidly rising and setting sun.

'As Horus's wife was still a part of him, it may be he kind of – who knows how gradually? – switched places. It would allow him more freedom to use his powers.'

'How can anybody be a shadow?' Gerry scoffed.

'Well, what about your friend, Barry Cheung? He could be nothing more than a wisp of smoke, when it suited him. And that's probably why Horus decided he had to get rid of him. Barry was getting close to you, from what I could see. And Barry, of course, was perfectly aware that a magical spirit can be far more insubstantial than we'd tend to assume.'

They were approaching another door. It was much smaller than the others, being slim and low.

'But why Canola?' Beth asked. 'Did he do that to her just to get us to use up energy?'

Galilee approached the third door far more cautiously than the others.

'He saw how he could get himself an extra advantage out of it, sure.'

Placing his hand on the door's handle, he held it for a moment as if unsure about opening it.

'But he really wanted Canola out of the way because of what she'd seen while hooked up to Gerry.'

He opened the door surprisingly quickly, and by less than a hand span.

He swung his light forward swiftly, craning his neck to look inside. Beth also quickly glanced inside.

She was disappointed. Unlike the other rooms, this was little more than a broom cupboard.

And an empty one at that.

She could see the light from Galilee's outstretched hands reflecting back from the walls.

'But she didn't see anything!' Beth insisted.

Galilee abruptly slammed the door shut, as if stopping some fearsome beast from escaping.

Relief flooded his face.

'It's strange; we've not really seen anything more dangerous than the dragon so far,' Beth observed, hoping to draw an explanation out him.

Galilee chuckled bitterly

'Don't be fooled by how innocent all these rooms appear Beth.' He saw the curiosity in her eyes. 'And this room is the most dangerous of all!'

He set off walking again, offering no further explanation regarding the rooms. Instead, he returned to their discussion of Horus's treatment of Canola.

'Of course, Canola didn't see anything! It was an emptiness, right?'

He fleetingly turned to Gerry.

'Canola actually said you were just a shadow of what you could be. It was just a coincidence, her choice of words, but I blame myself for not spotting what that could mean.'

'Of course!' Beth almost slapped her head for not noticing the similarities earlier. 'Mum suffered the same thing when I was born. Lynese became a part of me, rather than her, leaving her feeling – well, sort of empty too!'

'Ahh!'

Beth presumed Galilee was agreeing with her until she noticed he was standing next to a solid wall.

They had come to a dead end.

He held his light up. He swung it around, in the hope of finding some way of continuing their journey.

He spun on his heels.

'I suppose we'll just have to – ahh!'

Not far behind Gerry, another wall had appeared from nowhere, completely blocking the corridor.

They were walled in, no matter which way they turned.

*

# Chapter 69

'The door–'

'No, _not_ the door!'

Urgently reaching forward, Galilee grabbed hold of Beth. He pulled her back towards him.

The small, slim door had been left inside what was now a thin, imprisoning room.

'But–'

'No! We need to think of some other way of getting out. _Any_ other way!'

Letting go of Beth, he raised the hand holding the light and began to carefully inspect the walls.

He seemed to Beth to be seeking the secret, moving stone that always allowed a movie hero to escape similar traps.

Beth couldn't take her eyes off the door.

'But what's the point of looking for–'

'Because it's not just a normal door, okay?' he interrupted tersely.

Why's he always denying you your right to know what things like this door really are? Does he really think he's the only one entitled to know?

'What's so bad about a broom cupboard?'

Beth still couldn't stop staring at the door.

What would such a small room be doing here?

The other two doors had opened onto enormous rooms.

Perhaps she hadn't seen the third room right.

She had only had a glimpse, after all.

Galilee had slammed the door shut before she could see anything more.

Who's to say it didn't lead somewhere else?

'Beth, please, trust me!' Galilee was still searching for the hidden handle that only ever existed in movies and books. 'We can't use the door!'

_Trust him? You're_ always _being asked to trust him! Yet when you ask him anything, he seems to think it's perfectly all right to refuse you any answers!_

Beth started to head towards the door once again.

'Why won't you let me just–'

Galilee leapt towards Beth, grabbing and pulling her back once more.

'I said no, Beth!'

'How come you get to say "no" to me all the time?' Beth irritably shrugged him off.

'Because it's a room that–'

He froze.

The door had opened slightly.

Invitingly.

Galilee shook his head.

'I _can't_ explain what's in there Beth.' He watched the door with relief as it slowly shut. ' _Please_ trust me!'

_'Won't_ you mean; not _can't_ ,' Beth spat bitterly. 'There's a difference!'

'Wouldn't you guys just be better off using magic to get us out of here rather than arguing?'

Gerry had at last shook off her bemused daze. She also seemed to have regained some of her natural authority too.

'Isn't that what magic's supposed to do? Help you out of situations like this?'

'Looks real, solid doesn't it?'

Galilee drew her attention to the stonework by resting a hand against the wall.

'And yes, it's solid sure enough – but it's a magic construct in its own right. An incredibly complex, powerful one. And in our present form, we've very little chance of combating it.'

He went back to closely searching the walls, as if seeking that secret compartment once more.

'Unless, that is, we can discover _something_ in its own construction – possibly a flaw, but more likely what could be called a _necessary_ weakness.'

' _Necessary_ weakness?'

Intrigued, Beth also began to scrutinise the wall. Even though she wasn't sure what she was really looking for.

'Every construction, either in the way it's built, or in the way it _was_ built, contains a perhaps minor, and usually concealed, weakness. Like the way the process for sealing the _Titanic_ 's hull plates weakened the rivets and actually sealed its fate.'

'So what are we looking for?' Gerry asked, having joined the search.

'We won't know until we find it,' Galilee answered with a wry grin.

Beth grimaced.

'Which means we might _not_ find it, yeah?'

'Yeah.'

*

'Nothing; there's nothing here,' Gerry grumbled after a few minutes fruitless searching.

She glanced over at the door.

'I'm not sure what you think's in that room, Gal old boy, but it's looking more inviting by the minute.'

'The door's out of bounds.' Galilee continued to delicately feel and probe at the walls. 'Chances are, there's _something_ here we can use.'

'Yeah, but chance isn't what it used to be, remember?'

Beth couldn't help recalling the slaps she had received from Donna every time the flipped coin had come up tails.

'Magic's not what it used to be either,' Gerry mumbled tetchily, even though she had gone back to closely studying the walls. 'Trapping poor, innocent people like us in pyramids conjured up from nowhere. Magic used to be some idiot on TV fooling you into looking the other way while he slipped a coin into his palm.'

Fortunately, she didn't notice Beth and Galilee swapping amused glances as she kept up her grumbling.

'It wasn't fooling poor young soldiers into killing each other, neither!'

'Wait a minute; you've got something there Gerry!'

Beth stood back from the wall she had been patiently running her hands over.

'Those poor soldiers _had_ been fooled into looking the wrong way!'

She glanced around the thin, blocked-off corridor with a new intensity.

'They saw and shot at an army that didn't exist, that probably couldn't even harm them. The harm came from their own bullets; from others like themselves shooting at phantoms.'

Galilee bristled anxiously as Beth once again stared at the door.

'The door – _that's_ drawing _our_ attention.' She looked about her. 'But drawing our attention away from _what_?'

'The ceiling.' Galilee gazed up at the ceiling. 'The door made sure we couldn't break out of thinking the way out of here had to be something like another door, or another corridor.'

Spinning around, he went into a crouch, saying, 'Beth – climb up on my back.'

As Beth made herself as comfortable as she could on Galilee's back, he rose to his feet once more. Stretching up, Beth began to feel along the ceiling.

'Move over more towards the door,' Beth suggested, continuing to run her hands over the sandy stone even as he made his way there.

'Hang on; how about just _above_ the door itself?'

Galilee twirled lightly on his feet so that he was close to and facing the door.

'No, _not_ the ceiling. The thin bit of wall between the top and the ceiling. Isn't that the place we'd be least likely to check?'

Beth brought her hands down to the narrow section of wall running across the top of the door's frame.

'No, nothing here th– no, wait!'

She felt the stone move under her fingers. It was malleable, more like soft clay than stone.

Then her hand slipped inside as if the stone were nothing more substantial than a virtual image.

'Try and reach up,' Galilee exclaimed excitedly, having seen the way Beth's hand had disappeared into what seemed to be a solid wall. 'Try and bend it around the ceiling, as if it were a door!'

'A door up _there_?' Gerry stared up at the ceiling despairingly. 'You're not expecting _me_ to get up there, I hope!'

Beth ignored her.

Following Galilee's instructions, she was rolling her hand around inside the stone, expecting at any minute to feel something solid she could pull on.

Instead, the more she moved her hand around, the more insubstantial the stone became.

Even the parts of the ceiling that had been solid only seconds ago now allowed her hand to pass through them as if they had all been vaporised.

'This is really odd,' she snapped in frustration.

'No, it's working!'

Gerry, having partially turned around, was pointing back the way they had come.

'The wall blocking the corridor has gone!'

As Gerry happily started making her way back towards the opening, Beth prepared to jump down off Galilee's back – but she stopped, abruptly feeling weirdly, dangerously unbalanced.

All her weight seemed to have shifted into her shoulders, her head.

Her hair wafted upwards, streaming annoyingly across her face as if caught in a fierce updraft.

'Wait, I feel a bit strange.'

'Me too,' agreed Galilee, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

'The hole in the ceiling's growing!'

Just above Beth's head, more and more of the ceiling was vanishing, like sand sinking into an endless hole.

And suddenly, she and Galilee were falling into it.

Falling upwards into the hole in the ceiling.

*

# Chapter 70

Beth and Galilee might have been travelling upwards, yet as they violently tumbled and rolled, it felt no different from plummeting from a great height.

It was terrifying. They screamed and yelled.

Sand fell around them in seemingly endless streams, as if they were tumbling down through a giant egg timer.

There was nothing to stop their uncontrollable fall.

*

An abrupt change to intense brightness temporally blinded them.

When their eyes adjusted, they saw they really were falling now, falling through a beautiful blue sky as if they had just been dropped from an aeroplane.

The sand that had been falling with them drifted away, scattering on a brisk wind.

They plunged through gloriously white clouds, gathering speed.

The wind buffeted them viciously. It whipped them so hard as they cleared the clouds that their skin stretched and rippled painfully.

Below them, an ocean stretched out in every direction.

'We've got to slow ourselves down!' Galilee tried to yell.

Beth couldn't hear him, but she could guess what he was trying to say.

He had already stretched out his arms, pulling the wind into stronger yet more controllable gusts.

With deft, careful manipulation, he set the gusts whirling, creating a supporting bed of spiralling air just beneath their tumbling bodies.

It couldn't stop them falling, but it would at least delay the moment when they would strike the ocean.

Recognising the problem, Beth began to draw up a curling waterspout from the sea below.

Willing it to grow, grow, grow, she twisted it into the coils of a vast corkscrew rushing up to greet them.

'Look!'

Galilee pointed down towards what could have been brightly coloured streamers and balloons, billowing out across the water.

It was an effect similar to the way inks spread and entwine in lazy curls when dropped into a jar of water.

Here, though, the curling strands expanded, creating vast, multi-tinted bubbles drifting high into the air. They pulled everything else along with them until they popped, whereupon they were replaced by a fresh collection of translucent spheres.

'A boat!' Galilee cried. 'It's a bo–'

His voice was drowned out as the roaring, whirling funnel of water swallowed them.

Skilfully angling the spout's wide opening, Beth had drawn it towards them until they slithered down its insides, like slipping down a gigantic waterslide.

They hurtled down its coiling bends in a terrifying rush.

Water splattered and sloshed around them, washing over them, drenching them.

They gasped for air whenever they could, shut their mouths whenever the waves swelled over them once more.

But Beth retained enough sense to know she had to slow their descent by making the final spirals shallower and shallower.

By the time they hit the ocean, it was with little more than a mild plop, as if they had jumped in from the side of a swimming pool.

Yet the intense cold of the water was still a shock.

The waterspout vanished, its intense roaring abruptly replaced by the rhythmic surging of waves.

These waves were surprisingly massive, their steady rolling briefly lifting up Galilee and Beth high enough for them to get a glimpse of just how endless the ocean was. In the next second, they would be dropped down into deep gullies that completely blocked off their view.

'The boat!' Galilee spluttered between taking in mouthfuls of water. 'We need the boat!'

He called up the wind again.

He directed his gusts into a gentle swirl that curled about them, pushing down so hard on the waters that it forced the small section of ocean beneath them into a concave depression. Galilee and Beth hovered on this cushion of air, rising above the waves.

'There! The boat's there!' cried Beth, pointing off towards the whirling, vibrantly-hued patterns drifting across the surface of the water.

From this lower angle, the flowing strands were more obviously part of a boat.

It could have been an ancient Greek trireme, only one without oars or sails. In place of these it appeared to be being dragged along by the floating spheres and their connecting, fluctuating strands.

Emanating from the centre of the deck where the mast would normally be, the gaily-coloured strands stretched out before the boat like gigantic strings of a ghostly bubble seaweed.

The waves rippled beneath them, Galilee utilising his control of the air currents to send them floating across the surface towards the boat.

With a calculated mix of Galilee's power over the wind and Beth's manipulation of the waves, they momentarily rose higher until they were safely swept up onto the ship's deck.

'I can't see anyone on board,' Galilee said, taking a quick glance around.

'They could be below.'

Beth looked for any hatches or doors that could take them to a lower deck.

'There doesn't seem to be any way down. Unless we're talking magical doors once again.'

Galilee strode across the deck, checking for anything that seemed unusual, any noises that would hint at any life on board.

'What's powering this thing?'

Beth stared out at the gloriously billowing colours extending out before them.

Now she was closer to where the swirling streams had seemed to spring from out of the deck itself, she realised its base was actually more like a tree trunk. At this point the fluid streams were stolid, still and lifeless. It was only where the trunk first sharply bent then branched off that it gradually transformed into the ever-changing patterns.

'Hmn, it's probably a means of catching some form of energy.'

Galilee turned to look behind them, as if looking for the wind filling out a sail.

'It would be feasible for, say, a space ship to have what's called a sun sail, picking up the energy given off by the sun.'

'Isn't that the sun?'

Towards the front of the ship, a small yet brightly glowing orb hung high in the sky. Spinning on his heels, Galilee stared at it as intently as he dared.

'It's too small to be the sun. It's not yellow either. It's odd; more like a large star. Or even some sort of immense precious stone.'

'Do you think Gerry will be all right? I know the corridor wasn't blocked any longer. But there wasn't any way out from where we started, was there?'

'I think she'll be okay. I think all this has been prepared for you.'

'Me? You mean us?'

'Uh uh.' Galilee shook his head. 'I mean you. I'm just a bonus. Remember what he said? "You finally brought _her_ to me." No one knew I was there.'

'Perhaps he meant Gerry. That I'd brought Ger–'

Even as she was about to say it, she realised how ridiculous this sounded.

She hadn't brought Gerry to Horus! Why would she?

Besides, she hadn't even known he was there!

She hadn't known that Horus was Gerry's shadow.

And as Horus was Gerry's shadow, he hardly needed Gerry bringing to him, did he?

Naturally, though, he would have found it quite easy to have some sort of influence over Gerry. He could have used an unknowing Gerry to lead Beth into the trap.

So, as ridiculous as it all sounded, Galilee must be right; she was the one Horus was after.

Or, more likely of course, Lynese.

'It doesn't make any sense,' she said. 'Why me? What would Horus want with me? Or even Lynese? Lynese, do you know why Horus would want you?'

Me? Why indeed? What would the great Horus want with a pathetic little water fay?

There was a frightened quiver in Lynese's voice.

'I don't understand it myself,' Galilee admitted. 'But, think about it. We can now safely assume it was Horus who destroyed Argothoth – your friend Foley. He was protecting you, obviously.'

Beth was about to protest.

Thinking back, though, she realised this neatly explained how she had originally managed to escape the burning farmhouse when the wall had mysteriously collapsed.

'Wait a minute – what about the odrad?' she said suddenly. 'How come he didn't make much of an effort to save me from that?'

'Perhaps he thought you'd be able to handle it. Perhaps he wanted you to draw more on your inner power, giving more release and freedom to Lynese. But he was certainly around at that point. Remember how the odrad originally escaped because someone was deliberately flat-lining all the energy?'

'Soooo...as Gerry was hanging around at the time, do you think that could also explain why you lost it and came down so heavy on poor Drek?'

There was still an accusatory note in Beth's voice, even though she was giving him an excuse for his behaviour.

'You know; just pushing you a little bit. Knowing you were already exhausted and just a little bit fragile?'

Galilee shrugged, like he didn't want to face up to either possibility; that Horus had indeed had some sort of control over him, or that he had just simply 'lost it'.

'Where _are_ we?' he said, making his way over to the ship's rail.

The ocean stretched out in every direction, with no sight of land.

'We could do with some sort of chart.'

He looked back to where either the steering wheel or the captain's cabin would normally be. But the deck was flat and featureless.

Where the elaborately carved wood curved high over the stern's deck, however, something glittered. A small, sparkling instrument was suspended beneath it, hanging on a leather string.

Galilee rapidly strode towards it. As soon as he recognised what it was, he cried out elatedly, 'A sextant!'

Unhooking it from the loop of string it was hanging on, he examined it excitedly and admiringly.

A mix of wood, brass and glass, it was beautifully made. A long telescopic sight ran across its top.

'I'm not quite sure how it can help us to be honest,' he confessed to Beth as she approached. 'But at least I can use this to get a better view of that star or whatever it is.'

With a nod of his head, he indicated the glowing orb that the billowing streams appeared to be being drawn towards.

'The ship seems to be taking its energy from it.'

He brought the sextant up to his eye.

The shifting strands reaching out before them instantly whipped back like startled snakes.

The streams contracted, solidified, wrapping and snapping around Galilee.

Roughly dragging him forward, they securely bound him to their own trunk.

The ship lurched and rocked violently as the sea ahead of them began to abruptly dry up, rapidly transforming into rolling sand dunes.

Only the ship's incredible momentum continued to send it ploughing across waves that were increasingly solid.

Wood cracked and splintered everywhere. Sand was thrown up in great, choking plumes.

And the star began to drop down from the sky, rushing down towards them.

*

# Chapter 71

The ship shattered more and more with every bounce across the dunes.

The planks rapidly unzipped as great holes tore their way through the hull. The timbers and even the keel disintegrated.

As the hull swiftly vanished beneath him, the firmly bound Galilee plunged into a dune. The mound of sand exploded under the impact, his imprisoning trunk firmly embedding itself upright in the ground.

The surviving decking rushed up from behind. Fortunately, it completely peeled around him.

The last part of the ship to disintegrate was the stern deck, the remnants of the decking burying itself deep within a hillock.

Already seriously unbalanced by the wrecking of the ship on the dunes, Beth was sent bowling across the sand.

She let herself roll, absorbing most of the impetus of the crash. Using the last of the fall's energy, she leapt lithely to her feet, keeping her eye on the rapidly descending star.

The star – or whatever it really was – didn't seem to be getting bigger as it drew nearer. It's glow, however, grew ever stronger.

It stopped abruptly, hovering in the air at the height of a large house.

It was close enough, however, for Beth to realise it was a gloriously sparkling gem.

*

The ground directly in front of Beth erupted.

It rushed up in a fountain of sand and earth towards the glittering jewel.

Whirling, shifting, hardening, the sand began to rapidly take shape, forming the legs and heavily muscled torso of what could have been a lion.

Last of all, there came the head, beaked and hawk-like, yet with the curling horns of a ram. It collected and formed around the gem, so that it became a luminous eye.

Beth silently called on Hew. It slipped out of the scabbard on her back. It slid into her waiting hands.

The gigantic creature lowered its head, observing Beth with its glowing eyes.

The eye that had been the star glowed white, like a full moon. The one to its right was as bright as the sun.

As it observed her, the beast began to rise on its hind legs, its body becoming more human with every flex and move of its muscles.

'Why are you attacking me?' the creature mocked. 'And when I helped save you so many times too!'

So what Galilee said was true; she had been magically saved.

She glanced back at Galilee. He was still securely bound to what had effectively been the ship's mast, the coloured strands binding him as tightly and as completely as a mummy's bandages.

His eyes were covered, as were his ears. It seemed as if he were unable to move even slightly.

He had been tricked into staring directly into the Eye of Horus.

*

'So, you're Horus; right?'

Oh, a big cuddly teddy bear for the girl who just got the highest score of the week!

Shut it!

'Ah, still putting on the pretence, I see!'

As he slowly walked around Beth, continuing to observe her curiously, Horus began to shrink until he was the size of a large man.

'I like it; there's obviously still a part of you that doesn't want to admit you've led poor Machal here into a trap.'

He glanced over at Galilee. The straps covering Galilee's ears had either vanished or moved.

Galilee had heard Horus's accusation that Beth had betrayed him.

'I didn't lead him here. You know that.'

'Come come, Beth; you made sure he was attracted to you, didn't you? Even changing your appearance to – as you would say – "hook him".'

'I didn't do that to betray him!'

The strap covering Galilee's eyes had now disappeared.

The eyes were wide. Did they look hurt, confused?

'I wouldn't betray him!'

'Wouldn't betray him? Like you wouldn't betray anyone, eh? Yet here you both are! And _I_ didn't bring you here.'

'It must be Lynese, not me!' she screamed at him. 'Isn't that who you're really after anyway? Lynese, not me! Lynese must have caused all this!'

Yes! That _would_ make sense, wouldn't it? Lynese had betrayed Galilee, not her!

_That's_ what Horus had meant by 'bringing her to me'. It wasn't anything to do with Gerry. _Lynese_ had brought _her_ here!

No; Beth had brought herself here! She had betrayed herself!

Horus smiled benignly.

'Lynese? Poor, pathetic little Lynese? A _water_ _fay_! How could she be capable of such a thing? But you, Beth; you're capable of _so_ much!'

'Me? How _can_ it be me?'

Directly before her, a dark, vertical crack split the air.

Part of the air was pulling back, opening as if it were a door.

A door to the room full of treasure.

'You could have any reward you want Beth.'

The dragon moved languidly over its hoard. Its eyes were fixed on Beth with a glow that was inviting, not threatening.

'Or, perhaps, you would prefer to establish your rule over the new kingdoms you will help me create?'

A second door opened in the air alongside the first.

Beyond it, the landscape that had seemed so small when she had viewed it in the second room now appeared as full-sized towns and cities. They rushed past her as if she were seeing them from a low-flying plane.

Beth thought of the third room.

The room that Galilee had denied her from properly seeing.

'The third room,' she said. 'What's in the third room?'

'No Beth! Don't ask!'

Beth whirled around. Galilee had somehow managed to speak despite the strands still binding his mouth.

'Ah, he's still denying you, eh?'

Although he was grinning maliciously, there was still something about Horus's expression that implied he was impressed by Galilee's short, strangled speech.

The third door appeared before Beth.

It opened slowly. Temptingly slowly.

It was no longer a small room. It could have stretched to the ends of time for all Beth knew.

It was still dark. Yet Beth sensed it was a darkness that reached on and on, like an endless hole in the blue sky.

'What's in it?' Beth demanded, more curious than ever.

'Take a closer look if you want,' Horus said.

His face was now human, his beak having become a roman nose. His horns were now a mass of auburn, curly hair.

He was strikingly, surprisingly, handsome.

'No Beth, don't!' Galilee struggled to speak. It wasn't only incredibly difficult for him, but also seemed to be causing him immense pain. 'Please!'

'Then just tell me–'

'Beth, no! Don't you see?' Galilee was almost choking in his desperation to speak.

Instead of attempting to stop Galilee speaking, Horus merely smiled amusedly.

'That's the very danger of the room!' Galilee cried. 'You're giving in to it bit by bit. As soon as I tell you what it is, it draws you on to the next level!'

What was so amazing about this room that she wasn't even allowed to know what was in it?

What gave Galilee the right to keep so much information from her, like she was a child who was too young to deal with it?

Why was she always being kept in the dark about so many things?

'This room, Beth,' said Horus, stepping closer to the door and holding out an arm, inviting her to step inside, 'will allow you to bring your mother back. To make her however you want her to be.'

Beth eyed the door yearningly.

She stepped forward.

From Galilee, there only came a muffled cry. Horus must have somehow bound his mouth once more.

Why had Horus let him speak for so long? Why stop him now?

'Make her however I want her to be?' Beth repeated suspiciously, drawing back from the door. 'But that's not how it's supposed to be, is it? We're not supposed to make people how _we_ want them to be. That's _your_ view of how the world should be.'

'You mean the way I banished all those ridiculously restricting rules? Rules actually created by man, in his foolish craving to understand something he could never fully comprehend.'

'No one created those rules. Unless there really is a God, and he created them. All the scientists did were gradually discover them.'

Horus laughed.

'Yes, that's what you've all been fooled into believing, isn't it? But really, man has simply had his foot in this door, Beth, never daring to fully enter and bathe in its gifts. So each time he thought he had made a discovery, it was just another barrier he had created, denying himself the understanding he so desired. Each time he flattered himself he had crossed a new frontier, he failed to realise it was a frontier of his own making. Everything he searches for always ends up just tantalisingly out of his reach. The objects he's observing becoming ever smaller, the universe ever larger. He can never find the truth in this way, because he's looking in the wrong direction. And that, Beth, is why we had to change everything.'

'We? You mean _you_ ,' Beth spat angrily.

'But Beth, I couldn't have set all these wonderful changes in motion without your help now, could I? It was _your_ riddle, after all – you've always been so good with your poetic predictions – and _your_ calendar.'

Beth thought back to the calendar and riddle she had discovered in the base of Silbury Hill.

'I found them. That's all.'

'Have I just wasted my time explaining about man's supposed discoveries? So why wouldn't you, with all your latent powers, create something as simple as a calendar?'

'The more this goes on, the more I figure you're mixing me up with someone else.'

'Hmn, I believe it's you who's "mixed-up", Beth. It's so ironic. Here you are, so close to accepting everything that could be yours for the taking. Yet you're still denying who you really are.'

'Lynese? You mean Lynese? She doesn't have the powers to create things like that. Besides, I wouldn't let her. I didn't even know she was there at that time.'

'Didn't know she was there?' he grinned. 'But she's been there a long time, Beth. And she's thankfully had more freedom than you want to believe. Otherwise, that little know-all religious studies teacher would have raised the alarm too soon, wouldn't she?'

'Miss Hilary? I had nothing to do with her death! That was Kate!'

'Kate?' He chuckled mischievously. 'Now _that_ silly little pip squeak _really_ wasn't aware of what was going on at that time, was she?'

An anguished Beth bit her lip.

The wall's base had been weakened by water damage. Just, in fact, as Silbury Hill had been weakened by water, allowing the hidden chambers to be discovered,

'Why so shocked?'

Horus couldn't fail to notice that Beth was horror-struck.

'You're shocked by the death of some strange little creature who could have worked out what was going on before we were ready. Yet you quite happily arranged the deaths of those poor young soldiers.'

'That wasn't me!' Beth was incensed.

Horus replied in a whispering voice, the hissed whispers she had heard in her dream.

'Over there, there are more men attacking over there!'

'No, no! It was just a dream!'

'I saw you flying over them! I _saw_ you whispering confusion in their ears!'

'No! I wouldn't confuse them!'

'There are too many for you! Run, run!'

'But I was only trying to warn them! Not to confuse them!'

'Of course, of course! Just like you wouldn't want to confuse your own people, would you?'

'Of course not!'

She didn't say it as defiantly, as assuredly, as she had intended.

Hadn't Tull been confused when he had accused her of hurting Canola and tried to attack her? He had attacked, instead, the poor man next to her.

Isn't that exactly what the confused solders had been tricked into doing?

And Foley; hadn't he been terrified of her for a while? The way he had accused her of wanting him dead? Calling her 'Annie', originally so reverently.

Annie.

Lynese. Annie.

They didn't _really_ go together, did they?

Annie came from Ann, didn't it?

Or, _more_ like – _Morrigan_!

All that bewilderment suffered by the young soldiers. The crow, flying over them, whispering its confusion.

'It's Morrigan inside me, isn't it? Not Lynese?'

You've got me clean to rights guv! I'll come quietly.

Lynese – or, rather Morrigan – chuckled mockingly.

*

# Chapter 72

Horus didn't answer Beth's spoken question; he smiled once again, like he found everything that was happening so incredibly amusing.

Could he hear Morrigan?

Or did he just have a very good idea of what the conversation between Beth and Morrigan would be like?

So all that about Lynese facing up to you; it was all just a lie, wasn't it?

_It was_ not _all a lie!_

Morrigan sounded affronted by such an accusation.

_Poor little Lynese_ did _face me in her final battle. And, in fact, I_ do _seem to have inherited some of her pathetic little powers – probably because that nasty little trick was played on us just as I destroyed her. But they certainly came in handy when it came to fooling you, don't you think?_

You destroyed her? Just as you destroyed a whole island full of people!

Well, darling, don't mountaineers say they climb a mountain just because it was there? This was a challenge for me too! It was there – and then, well, yes, it wasn't. If you get my drift?

This...this is just so incredibly awful! How could I end up with such a horrible, _evil_ person inside me?

Hey, I didn't choose you either darling, remember? I could ask how I ended up incarcerated inside such a dreadful little do-gooder!

Well, this dreadful little do-gooder is going to make sure you don't get any more control!

It's all a bit late for that I'm afraid, darling. I've always had a bit more than I've let on. But, thankfully – stupidly – you've been letting me have more and more, haven't you? You just had to see your poor dear mother, didn't you? And then you were so thrilled helping Canola! What harm could there have been in that? you thought! And just look at how you stopped that army putting your friends to flight – oh, the friends you also set against each other. That was a bit silly of you, wasn't it?

Suddenly, Beth whirled Hew around in the air. Instead of striking Horus, however, she swung it around in her hands so that the point was directed at her own throat.

'I still have control over my body.'

She said it out loud. She wanted Horus to know what she intended to do. And why.

'If I kill myself, I take you with me.'

Horus brought a hand up to his mouth as if shocked. But his eyes twinkled with amusement.

His hand was only there to either conceal or stop himself from chuckling.

_Please, be my guest darling!_ _It would be messier than I'd prefer, but not impossible._

Beth let her sword fall away from her throat.

If she killed herself, it merely freed Morrigan.

But that meant, too, that if she were killed by someone else, Morrigan would be freed anyway.

She had to stall for time.

She needed to work out what she should do.

*

'If you're so powerful, why did you need me to bring Galilee to you?'

'We didn't,' Horus replied. 'He was just an extra bonus.'

I wasn't quite sure who he was at first. He was hiding his true presence from people like myself. I'd thought the odrad would take care of him, to be honest. But when that failed to happen, and when I saw he was so bizarrely attracted to you, I thought, well – there has to be some advantage in having Machal's host enslaved by love.

'It's so reassuring of course,' Horus said, stepping closer to Beth, 'to know that you're prepared to sacrifice yourself for our cause.'

Beth threw herself towards him in a roll, rising in a fluid strike towards his chest with Hew.

Horus never even flinched. He fixed his silvery eye upon her. The Eye of Horus.

She froze in mid-action, the blade only a hand's breadth away from cleaving Horus's flesh.

She quivered with fear, realising that she no longer had control over her own body.

Her arms, her legs, refused to do what she wanted them to do.

She dropped Hew, the sword landing softly on the sand.

Oh dear oh dear. What control do you have now, eh darling? The Eye of Horus controls all your senses. Just as it does poor lover boy over there.

Beth wanted to turn, to look at Galilee.

But she couldn't.

She was finding it hard to even _think_ what she wanted to do.

Lover boy doesn't know it, but he's bound by the energy of his own senses. But in your case, darling, your own senses are going to be so overloaded they're going to slowly tear you apart. I'm telling you this while you can still think, darling. Because the Eye controls all your six senses, including thought.

Beth's muscles, her skin, even her bones, were tingling, stretching, cracking.

They ached with everything that she had touched and everything that had touched her. Every fall she had suffered, every pleasurable stroke, every agony, every sting, every illness.

Her ears drummed and beat with every tune, every shout, every whisper she had ever heard.

Her eyeballs bulged, flooded with all manner of sights.

Her mouth, tongue and stomach zinged and turned and gagged with everything sharp and horrible. It all overrode anything that had been delicious, which in its own right was unbearable when all coming at you at once.

Similarly, her nose recoiled at every stench.

It all fed into her thoughts, mingling with every memory, every heartache, every slight, every misery.

The worst of it is darling, you really will want to squeal, believe me. Oh, but you won't be able to, will you?

Every sense, every experience, was screaming for attention. Yet it was drowned out by everything else.

Her body was tearing itself apart.

Her flesh felt like it was being unwound in strips. Like the _unravelling_ of an Egyptian mummy. Her brain was being gouged at, then pulled in threads down her nose.

As Morrigan had promised, she wanted to scream.

But she couldn't.

*

# Chapter 73

Oh no, no, no! Please make it stop! Make it stop, make it stop!

The screaming came from deep down inside. Beth thought they were her own screams, fruitlessly seeking release.

This isn't supposed to be happening! What's going wrong?

They weren't her screams.

They were Morrigan's.

Beth couldn't understand why Morrigan was screaming.

She sensed that _Morrigan_ couldn't understand why Morrigan was screaming!

She sensed, too, that by now her body and mind should be too overloaded with sensations, too badly damaged, to register anything so specific.

Trying to think amongst such an overload of thoughts should be impossible.

Her flesh wasn't unravelling, revealing and freeing Morrigan in all her glory. It just _felt_ that way.

One sensation amongst so many.

'This is hurting Morrigan as much as it's hurting me!'

She saw the shock on Horus's face.

She shouldn't be able to shriek, let alone be able to put a sentence together amongst the deluge of thoughts she was suffering.

She shouldn't be able to see that he was shocked!

She had to think hard, to put aside all those overwhelming thoughts of an entire life and come up with some way of letting Galilee know that he was being held captive by his own senses.

'Morrigan must be linked to my six senses that the Eye's controlling!'

She didn't know if Galilee had heard her, let alone if he would have made sense of it, or if it could help him.

She couldn't do much more.

Despite having more control over her senses that either Morrigan or Horus had obviously assumed she would have, she was still struggling for survival.

She couldn't put up with this intense pain for much longer without losing her mind.

Morrigan's anguished screams alone would send most people crazy.

Then, abruptly, it all stopped.

The screaming. The pain.

The feeling that she was being gradually stripped down to her very bones and then way beyond.

She felt like collapsing.

But she didn't want to give Horus the satisfaction of seeing her crumple before him.

*

Horus didn't look either satisfied or dissatisfied.

He simply, nonchalantly, waved a hand.

'I don't understand it! It was like I was the one being torn down to my core!'

The voice came from Beth's mouth, but it wasn't Beth speaking.

It was Morrigan.

'Perhaps, as she says, her senses are somehow linked with yours.'

Horus observed Beth like she were an interesting specimen in a scientific experiment.

'Impossible!' Morrigan snapped.

'Perhaps we'll just have to kill her after all.'

'No, no! You didn't feel what I felt just then!' For the first time ever, Morrigan sounded terrified. 'It might well kill _me_ too!'

Beth glanced down at Hew.

Perhaps, now, if she killed herself she would take Morrigan with her.

But she couldn't move. The Eye still had control over most if not all of her senses.

As Beth glanced at it, Morrigan also saw the blade resting on the sand. She guessed Beth's intention.

'Now she knows that killing herself might kill me! We have to do _something_! Otherwise I'll always be in danger!'

Horus still appeared more curious than concerned.

'There is a place where all weaker spirit is extinguished. Only the strongest survives.'

'Erewslen!' Morrigan said it with peculiar dread.

'Erewslen.' Horus repeated the name with a peculiar disinterest. 'Of course, I could send you there; but I couldn't bring you back.'

'Yes, yes,' Morrigan said, like she was quickly thinking things through. 'Once I'm free, I can make my own way back.'

Morrigan sounded confident once more.

'No!' Galilee suddenly cried from behind them. 'Not the Erewslen!'

Horus seemed surprised rather than worried that Galilee had managed to regain his speech.

He only frowned as he raised his hands over Beth, frowned in concentration as he began weaving the energy around her.

He was creating vibrantly tinted ripples, manipulating undulating currents.

Beth felt as if her feet were being sucked down into a rapidly strengthening whirlpool.

Glancing down, she saw that her feet had vanished. Her lower legs were slowly disintegrating too.

The pull of the whirling currents was gradually moving up her body.

The only advantage was that she could now move her head.

She glanced over towards Galilee.

'Galilee! No!'

The binding strands had disappeared from Galilee's head, revealing his anguished face. There was a sparkling glow to his features, a fainter glow across his whole body.

Beth immediately understood what was happening.

Galilee was freeing Machal.

He was sacrificing himself to help Beth.

*

# Chapter 74

'No Galilee!'

It was a tortured scream.

Part warning, part apprehension for Galilee, part intense pain as Beth was grabbed and pulled at by what felt like thousands of unseen hands.

Most of her legs had now gone the way of her feet, vanishing yet still suffering the agonisingly strong wrenching.

Every fragment of her body was being nipped and clawed at.

Galilee glowed as he stepped free of the strands.

The streams of energy briefly flowed aimlessly around their own trunk. Then they drifted off to one side, like endlessly long, gaily-coloured pennants.

Machal still looked like Galilee, only a Galilee who was painful to look at, so bright was the light emanating from his body.

When he reached for and took a tight grip of Beth's chest, she was almost expecting his touch to burn. Yet it produced only a strangely reassuring tingle.

'Fight it Beth! Don't go there!'

She threw her arms around him, clinging onto his shoulders.

But she could sense that the wrenching on her body was getting stronger.

It was pulling her body away from his, despite their tight embrace.

Her hips had disappeared, along with her stomach.

'I can't...can't hold...'

Her grip was weakening.

And so, amazingly, was Galilee's.

'No no Beth!' he groaned in anguish.

Her chest slithered away from him, vanishing in an instant.

He grabbed at her arms.

Her terror stricken face was so close to his.

'Beth...'

Her arms slipped from his grip.

Her face suddenly whipped away – and vanished.

*

# Chapter 75

Beth was sucked backwards at what felt like an impossible speed.

It could have been dark, swiftly swirling water that she was passing through, although she felt warm rather than cold and wet.

She was also buffeted hard, and sharply.

She could see remarkably clearly, which would have been impossible had she been caught in a whirlpool.

She was surrounded by darkness, yet within it there were moving threads of something even darker. Threads that varied in thickness, stretching off in all directions until they visually merged into the greater darkness.

The pulling at her now came from every direction too.

Every inch of her skin and the muscles underneath were being violently nipped and drawn out as far as they would go before springing back.

Now the thinner threads of darkness, in countless numbers, were touching her as she continued to hurtle feet-first through them.

It was like being dragged backwards through endless rows of bushes, only these twigs didn't scratch so much as snap at her with what could have been innumerable tiny mouths.

As Beth careered past thicker threads, they painfully whipped at her, like a thickly branched tree restlessly thrashing in a stormy wind.

Unbelievably, it was even more agonising than Horus's attempt to strip her away to nothing to free Morrigan.

Sevil, the great Tree of Lives! Feeding off every wrong turn of a spirit, the way a normal tree needs the sun. Rooting time and time again in true darkness. Only the strongest spirit can resist.

Morrigan was obviously attempting a mocking tone; but there was something strained about her voice.

Something stunned.

Something pained.

But this isn't what you expected, is it Morrigan?

A tree the size of a planet? Hah! I know of Erewslen!

Once again, Beth sensed that Morrigan was only putting on a show of confidence.

But I'm still here, Morrigan. And that surprises you, doesn't it?

It should be flaying you alive!

Morrigan's cry was desperate now.

Beth suspected that, like her, Morrigan was trying hard to hide the pain and hopelessness she felt.

It's like when Horus tried to separate us. For some reason, we can't be parted! What I suffer, you suffer!

You young idiot! Don't you realise we'll never stop suffering like this? If it can't feed off us, it will still continue to try!

You said you could get us back! Take us back!

Not together! I can't do it while we're together! There's still too much of the human spirit about us for the tree to let us go!

Then we stay here.

Where you can't cause any more trouble!

*

As she was agonisingly flayed again and again by the ferociously whipping branches, as she was tugged at and pulled at and wrenched at (even her eyes!), Beth actually wondered if she could cope with this for a moment longer, let alone century after century.

But she couldn't allow Morrigan to be freed.

It would not only be unbelievably bad for the world, but also for her mum.

Her mum would suffer in ways Beth preferred not to imagine.

She just knew she couldn't let her mum end up as a spirit fighting in Morrigan's legions.

*

For the first time since she had entered this place, Beth saw what could be a light.

It was a glittering spark that might have been a hundred or thousands upon thousands of miles away.

It was getting brighter too, as if it were quickly drawing closer to her, despite her own incredible speed.

Soon the glow emanating from the light was enough to illuminate some of the tree's countless, crookedly branching limbs. Many of these limbs passed though unimaginably black clumps, becoming hopelessly tangled roots on the other side.

Sevil wasn't one tree but innumerable trees, growing at every tangent to the centre.

The oncoming radiance became blinding.

Beth had to look away and close her eyes. But not before she wondered if she really had seen a number of vast wings amongst the brilliance.

_No!_ Morrigan screamed in fury.

Beth was tempted to open her eyes once more, yet even through her lids she sensed the painful luminosity.

Then, suddenly, she was snatched at by hands and arms that curled around her waist and held her tight.

She sensed that she was slowing, even though there wasn't any normal sensation that should make her think this.

A moment later, she felt that she was travelling again, but headfirst this time, as if she were flying.

'What's happening?'

She didn't know whom she was directing the question at. She hoped the answer would give some hint of that.

'It's me; Galilee. I'm getting you out of here!'

'No! Galilee!'

Beth knew what that answer meant; Galilee had become Machal.

That's why Morrigan had been so furious. She had recognised that it was Machal streaming towards them.

See! Even lover boy's given in! He's let Machal have his freedom!

'You have to leave us here Galilee! You're saving Morrigan too if you rescue me!'

_Let him save us – save_ you _– you fool!_

'I can't leave you here Beth. Morrigan or not.'

'Galilee, you must...'

Her resistance melted away as a pair of Galilee's wings completely enveloped her.

Their cocooning warmth and glow felt like a return to the womb. She felt safe. She felt free of anxiety.

She realised that they were probably travelling now at an incredible speed, perhaps almost as fast had Galilee had attained when he had chased after her.

Yet it didn't feel as if they were moving at all.

The tree's innumerable branches may well have still been striking at them too, but she couldn't feel anything. There wasn't even a hint of all that agonising pulling and wrenching that, only a moment ago, had seemed as if it would never end.

(And, of course, if she had stayed here, it never would have ended.)

Clever; he's hiding your human spirit from Sevil.

Pity your boyfriend had to die so you could be rescued though, don't you think darling?

*

# Chapter 76

When Machal unfurled his wings – wings of shimmering light, not white feathers as Beth was expecting – they were back on the sand dunes once more.

Machal's glow began to swiftly fade.

It gave Beth the chance to observe him without being blinded, if only for the most fleetingly moment.

She gasped.

Even in his faded luminosity, he was like an angel composed of light. His wings – six of them – were massive, beautiful, entrancing in their steady movement.

In the blink of an eye, it was Galilee, not Machal, standing before her.

He looked, drained, exhausted.

He would almost certainly have crumpled to the floor if Beth hadn't reached out and supported him.

'How? Why...?'

Thinking she knew what questions Beth was intending to ask – _How_ have we ended up back here? _Why_ have we come back here? – Morrigan answered for Galilee.

This is where the branches of your life touch the edges of Erewslen. Because this is where you entered. So it's where you must exit too. Even while covered up by lover boy's wings!

Beth ignored her.

_How_ had Machal changed back into Galilee? _Why_ had Galilee changed into Machal in the first place?

Especially when it was likely to have led to his death?

Galilee understood what Beth had meant to ask.

'I don't know how I survived. Machal doesn't know either. But it may be because Machal is a being of light. Even so, I felt it burning me up, weakening me. I couldn't have existed as Machal for much longer.'

They both turned, hearing a mockingly slow handclap.

Horus was seated in a surprisingly comfortable looking armchair. The chair wouldn't have looked out of place in a picture-book cottage.

'Bravo!'

He rose to his feet as he continued his languid clapping.

'Shakespearean it ain't, but it's touching, nevertheless. For the sake of his love, the hero – the great, the formidable, Machal! – weakens himself. Thereby bringing about his own incredibly premature death!'

He made a lazy click of his fingers out towards the sea.

Immediately, the higher waves far out from the beach began to rise even higher. They churned wildly, throwing up vast plumes of white foam.

As the spray descended, it coagulated, forming into line after line of Roman soldiers.

'I do love your history,' Horus said, clicking his fingers once again.

This time, however, he clicked them back towards the dunes in the near distance.

'It can be such a glorious spectacle.'

The desert erupted into rows of miniature whirlwinds.

The spiralling winds rapidly formed into swirling columns, around which ever more detail swiftly gathered. Within a moment, an Egyptian army was spread out across the dunes, complete with horses, chariots and even war elephants.

Despite the distance it had to cover – Horus had indeed gone for spectacle, displaying his creation in its full, extended glory – the army moved with the unhurried languor of a force assured of victory.

Even though he was still weakened by his time as Machal, Galilee conjured up howling winds to strike the nearest columns of the Egyptian horde.

The sandy figures were at first resilient to the whirling winds then, breaking up, disintegrating, they were scattered across the dunes as nothing more than fine grains once more.

Beth turned her attention to the oncoming Romans, preparing to raise up her own violently aggressive plumes of water.

No, don't, it's a trap!

'You expect me to trus–'

She heard a pained screech. Alongside her, Galilee was writhing in agony.

He's using your own senses against you again, you fool! Wipe out those soldiers, and you're uncovering every sensation you've ever experienced!

Galilee's eyes and mouth were open wide, a blinded, over-satiated man: seeing millions of sunbursts all at once; tasting and digesting in an instant everything he had ever eaten.

Beth had a good idea of what he was suffering. She had been tortured by a similar array of overwhelming experiences only moments ago.

Why are you helping me? Beth asked Morrigan suspiciously.

I'm no longer sure what damage it would cause me! Horus has given up on me! He wants us all to die!

Without Beth's waterspouts to stop them, the watery legions were inexorably rushing in on the waves towards the sands.

Let me call up my spirits! They have no senses to overwhelm!

Startled, Beth jumped.

Her mum! Her mum would be amongst the injured spirits!

She couldn't let her mum take part in a fight against– but wait!

Couldn't she ensure her mum was separated from the others?

She would see her mum again! And, perhaps, defeat Horus's forces too!

'Okay,' she said. 'Call them up!'

I need you, my lovelies! Defend your queen, your goddess!

*

In countless positions across the dunes, the air quivered.

It wavered like thin streaks of heat haze, like the disturbed rainbow colours in an oily puddle.

Even the air closely surrounding Horus vibrated.

The shivering tones expanded, hardened, until they became the bruised, mangled spirits Beth had glimpsed behind her mother.

They wore no clothes. They bore no arms. But their eyes blazed with a common purpose.

They strode across the sands, some to encounter the oncoming Romans, the other half to take on the advancing Egyptians.

Horus smiled knowingly.

'Morrigan, I salute you for your genius! But as you must know, my Romans and Egyptians are little more than an amusement.'

He dissolved, running back into the sand.

No, no, Horus! Don't leave me!

'He's...he's given up!' Beth sighed with an unexpected relief. 'He's run away.'

And just how do you think we're going to get out of here, you naive little idiot? Even if his creations don't finish us off, he knows that only he could have led us out of his little magic box of tricks!

'Mum!' Beth cried anxiously. 'I need to find my mum!'

*

The armies had clashed, but there were no screams or yells, no clang and clatter of sword, shield and armour, no harsh barking of guns.

It all took place in a weird, disconcerting silence.

And, suddenly, Beth was flying over them all, her sharp, predatory eyes scanning for any sign of her mum.

Cawing in anguish, she swooped down, curled around in vast curves, ascended then dived again.

There were so many spirits, far more than she had expected.

Obviously, the wars had already taken a great toll on humanity. The young soldiers she had seen dying early today were undoubtedly amongst them.

Perhaps Galilee had been wrong earlier and Heddy's father was there too. But if he was, Beth couldn't see him.

It wasn't just the vast numbers involved that made it so difficult to spot individual people. In many places the spirits came together like malleable clay figures, intermingling to form massive, nightmarish objects.

As great fists, they smashed through the Egyptian ranks. As huge claws, they picked up elephants, carelessly casting them aside to scatter and flatten more soldiers.

Elsewhere they swiftly gathered and merged into hybrid siege machines, with flailing arms that crushed and swept aside whole lines of the enemy with each vicious stroke.

The way they acted together, with no thought of their own safety (perhaps, even, with little personal thought at all), reminded Beth of ants following an instinct to work for the common good.

They were, after all, directed by unseen signals from an all-controlling queen, whose safety was paramount.

It was not as if the spirits were impervious to damage. Yes, they could take a surprisingly amount of punishment and still continue fighting; yet there came a point when the mass of injuries sustained finally brought them down.

Many horrendously disfigured bodies were already sprawled out across the dunes.

Having seen how the sand soldiers had been so easily dispersed by Galilee's winds, Beth was surprised to see how formidable they were against a more conventional attack.

Their swords and spears were solid enough, cleaving through what passed as flesh amongst the spirit forces. The armour and shields also resisted the fiercest blows delivered by the individual spirits.

They naturally crumpled, however, under the heavier pounding of the collective forms striking deep into the Egyptian ranks.

The Roman legions were equally robust. What appeared to be liquid swords carved into their victims with an incredible sharpness and efficiency. The plated armour responded to counter strikes as steadfastly as anything made of bronze or steel.

Even so, each legionnaire seemed to be suffering damage. There was many a half-crumpled head, even more loosely hanging legs and arms.

In some cases a chest or back had collapsed, the unsupported upper torso hanging forward limply. They could have been inflated figures, the exteriors gradually shrivelling back in on themselves as they were remorselessly punctured.

With a graceful swerve and a swoop, Beth placed herself amongst the Egyptians once more.

They were now suffering a similar fate to the legionnaires, the sand caving in as if their inner structure was being sucked away.

It no longer took a heavy strike from a spirit to accomplish this either; the merest touch would now cause a catastrophic deflation.

Warriors began to completely disappear, the sand falling as powdery grains to become part of the dunes once more.

Each touch to the sandy Egyptians by the spirits brought about an even more amazing change.

As their foes crumpled and lost limbs, the spirits responsible would begin to regain a lost arm or leg, or partially recover from some other horrific wound.

As the sand warriors lost their inner substance of sensory experiences, the spirits absorbed them, slowly replacing what had been lost when they had passed on to their limbo.

Around Galilee, other spirits were making an even more profound recovery.

Some of them blinked in surprise as they abruptly became aware that they were whole again.

At first, Beth couldn't understand this.

The spirits clamouring around Galilee had appeared to be fighting nothing but invisible ghosts, as if they were as confused as the soldiers deliberately deceived by Morrigan. But closer to, Beth had glimpses of wavering air, or a blurring of the sand, allowing her to pick out the indistinct shapes of the warriors Galilee's blasts had uncovered.

Only their sandy shell, she realised, had been scattered. The senses themselves had been left to gather around and plague Galilee.

And, as the spirits absorbed their energy, Galilee began to break free of his own torments.

Like the amazed spirits who had come back from what was effectively a living death, he looked about him as if seeing everything anew for the first time.

He saw that a battle was raging.

Saw that neither Horus nor Beth were nearby.

'Beth,' he whispered on the air. 'We have to leave.'

His voice carried across the still eerily silent battlefield.

Beth was closer than he thought. Swooping down before him, she transformed in an instant, landing gently on the sand as a girl.

Galilee glared at her suspiciously.

It was a glare that changed to an expression of resignation and understanding as he glanced at the fierce conflict taking place around them.

'Horus?' he said.

'Left,' Beth answered equally brusquely.

'Then there's only one way out of here.'

'I can't leave yet.'

Seeing the soldiers regain their mind and senses had reignited her hope that her mother might return to her, whole and alive.

She hadn't found her yet, despite a persistent search. But there was still time...

'I need to find my mum.'

'You don't even know she's here Beth.'

Galilee took in the chaos of the clash of forces that ebbed and flowed even now.

'We don't really know that what happened to her really counts as dying in battle.'

He's right! She's not here! I would know!

Hah, you would say that just to get out of here!

'I saw, her remember? She was waiting with all these people. I _saw_ her!'

'We can't afford to wait Beth. We need to leave, now! A magical battle can turn in an instant. Something you never expected – something you would have sworn was impossible – happens and the battle changes.'

If he can get us out of here, listen to him!

'This won't be easy, particularly with so many.'

With a few quick, authoritative hand signals, Galilee called on the fully recovered soldiers to gather around him. There were around thirty of them, men and women. All of them were now ashamedly conscious of their nakedness.

Turning back to Beth, Galilee said, 'I'll need you to follow up last Beth. So you can dismiss your forces.'

'I'm not sure if I can,' Beth said distractedly.

She continued to observe the attacking spirits in the increasingly forlorn hope of spotting her mum.

'You'll know how to do it,' Galilee confidently insisted.

'So...how are we going to escape?' Beth couldn't take her eyes off the lines of clashing warriors.

'The door – the third door.'

'The third door?'

Beth's attention was torn away at last from the violent conflict still taking place around them.

For an answer, the third doorway slightly opened up before them.

It was an angularly crooked crack in the landscape and sky.

'It's the only way out of here.' Galilee addressed the orderly waiting soldiers. 'You must do exactly as I say and move quickly.'

They nodded, barked, 'Yes sir!'

'You said _I_ mustn't go in!' Beth protested, somehow feeling cheated.

'I meant it – it's dangerous for anyone, including me!'

'So why are we going in?'

'As I said – because it's the only way _out_!'

*

# Chapter 77

'We move through quickly, right?'

Galilee carefully explained how he wanted everything to happen.

'No delaying to stop and stare and try and work out what's going on! I know it sounds ridiculous, but if you delay for even a moment you could end up trapped in this room! Curiosity will literally kill you! You must ensure there is one thought and one thought only passing through your mind – you believe you have been denied your freedom. Got that?'

Even though they nodded, Galilee had everyone, including Beth, repeating the mantra; 'I have been denied my freedom!'

'Good,' he said. 'Now, this may puzzle some of you, but I'll explain everything later – there's no time now!'

As he spoke, a luminosity began to flow in shimmering waves across his skin and clothes. The radiance brightened until it appeared to be breaking through his skin.

There were gasps of incredulity and fear as he changed into Machal.

'An angel!' Many of them fell to their knees, many making the sign of the cross.

Turning towards the door, Galilee pushed it open.

Entering the incredibly dark room, he immediately turned back to face them, spreading out and curling his six massive wings to form a barrier of light just within the doorway.

'Quickly now,' he said. 'And remember; "I have been denied my freedom!"'

*

As Galilee was effectively blocking the way to the rest of the room, there was only just enough space left for the soldiers to enter one at a time.

First to enter was a woman who, following Galilee's direction, continually repeated the line, 'I have been denied my freedom!' – and suddenly vanished.

It could have been a worrying moment for those following her into the room. But, behind them, the most terrifying battle they had ever seen was taking place.

Ahead of them, a glorious angel had promised to lead them to safety.

As each one entered, they felt dazzled, even partly hypnotised by Galilee's cocooning light.

If anything, though, this helped them stick to Galilee's strict condition to think of nothing but their longing for freedom. Just to remind them, he also continued to repeat the line again and again.

Each one vanished within a moment of stepping into the doorway.

Only Beth noticed the increasing sense of strain, perhaps even pain, in Galilee's voice.

As his face was bathed in a blazing radiance, it was impossible to make out his expression. From his steady, anguished tone, however, Beth assumed that his eyes were closed, his brow was creased in concentration.

More than anyone, Galilee was making sure that nothing but a need for freedom flowed through his mind.

*

The operation was taking longer than Galilee had reckoned.

More and more fully-recovered, naked soldiers were rushing their way.

As they abruptly became aware of whom they were once more, and finding themselves in the middle of a fantastic battle they couldn't recall joining, they would look about them in bewilderment.

Seeing others like themselves lining up to exit this bizarre landscape through the kind of magical portal they had previously only seen in movies, they sprinted over to it as quickly as they could.

After asking the others what was going on, they would gratefully nod in agreement as they were told what they had to do.

'Hurry, hurry,' Beth said, urging them on.

As the last one vanished, Beth turned to survey the ferocious battle once more.

Morrigan; you know what to do.

Take a rest my lovelies. You can fight again, next time I call.

In a reversal of how they had appeared, the warring spirits dissolved, transforming into fluctuating columns of air before disappearing completely.

The armies of sand and water were only a fraction of what they had been, but they were still formidable forces.

With only Beth now visible, they set off at a fierce charge towards her.

Quick, the door!

Spinning around, Beth stepped through the door.

If only her mum had been one of the soldiers they had rescued!

'Beth!'

Even though Galilee's brilliant luminosity should have prevented it, Beth realised she could see beyond him into the darkened room.

Her mum was there!

Calling her!

*

# Chapter 78

'Mum! Mum, I didn't see you amongst the others!'

Her mother was far away.

Beth started running towards her.

'I wasn't there Beth! Because we're different Beth!'

No, no! Freedom, freedom! Think only of getting out of here you fool!'

'But my mum–'

Her mum was drawing nearer.

She was saying something to her.

But Beth couldn't hear anything save Morrigan's urgent screaming.

The room grants you everything anyone's ever denied you! All those slights, those grievances, those gripes you've accumulated – how endless is that? You can only resist it by denying yourself its double-edged rewards!

'Mum! I'm sorry, I can't–'

Freedom! We need to be free!

'I'm being denied my freedom!'

Her mum vanished.

The darkness vanished.

*

Beth was back in the barn.

She was surrounded by naked men and women being helped to cover themselves by Epona and a number of other people from the farm

Galilee appeared alongside her out of nowhere. He collapsed, exhausted.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' Beth wept, throwing herself towards him. 'I couldn't help thinking of mum.'

'I know, I know,' he replied sympathetically, mustering the energy to place a consoling arm around her.

'I saw her. I saw my mum – but I had to deny her!'

'You had no choice. No choice at all Beth.'

*

The horses warily made their way through the blackened, burnt-out and sharply edged wreckage.

Foal, seated behind Beth, seemed undisturbed by the gently rocking of the horse's hindquarters, moving with and absorbing each jolt.

Alongside her, Galilee observed the shattered tanks and heavy guns with indifference.

His main focus of interest was on the shaded areas they cast, any one of which could be a hiding place for Horus now that Gerry was bizarrely shadow free.

Ahead of them both rode Drek and Heddy, playfully teasing each other.

Heddy had finally decided that she wanted to see where her father had died. Galilee had confessed that what appeared to be a grave was in fact empty; her father had passed on to another world for now.

Heddy had replied that she understood. How could she not have an inkling of what was really happening now, when she had heard the stories being told by the soldiers who had returned with them from Horus's realm?

There could be no greater confirmation of this new reality than the lack of bodies amongst the wreckage of what had been a ferocious clash.

Less than an hour after the battle had ended, what would have been termed the dead only a few days ago had risen up from the ground, stepping through the curtains of air opening up before them.

None of the soldiers – forty three in all – who had survived the encounter with Horus's forces could remember any of this. But a few could recall the battles in which they had died, including a violent conflict just outside York.

It sounded like an attempt to halt Arthur's progress down through England. No one knew how it had ended, however.

Every soldier there had died in some small, chaotic section of the battlefield, with little or no knowledge of everything else going on around them.

'I could, you know, ask Morrigan to call up a few spirits again,' Beth said as they clomped past an oil-blackened tank, its tracks broken and askew. 'We could see if there are any amongst 'em that could give us more details of what happened to Arthur.'

'Too risky,' Galilee replied bluntly. 'Until we get a better idea from Canola of what's actually happening between you and Morrigan, we've got to assume she's still capable of wresting control from you if you give her too much leeway. Besides, I doubt if she'd be so helpful. She'll be wanting to make amends with Horus, not rile him further.'

'If she's still so dangerous, shouldn't I, well – well, wouldn't it be better if someone just killed me?'

Even though she was trying to help by saying this, she found it hard to say it. The only thing that forced her to make such a morbid suggestion was the thought of her mum being under Morrigan's control.

'Or, if you don't think that would help, couldn't I be trapped in something? Like Barry in his stone?'

'Horus probably has the capabilities to release you from anything we'd trap you in.'

Galilee took her suggestions more seriously than Beth had secretly hoped he would.

'And we don't really know if your death would take Morrigan with you, or release her. So it makes far more sense that you stay alive, Beth, and try and keep control of her!'

He smiled, an expression that clearly showed this was what he really wanted.

Beth felt relieved yet also somehow cowardly.

After all, Galilee had risked his own life to save hers.

Entering the third door had been as dangerous to him as it was for her. Yes, a human would be driven insane by the fulfilment of everything they believed had been denied them, whereas any magical being would be capable of resisting it for a while; but Galilee had had to stay inside for so much longer than was advisable for even the most powerful spirits.

He had only survived, he had explained to Beth, because he now had so much responsibility he really did feel that the only thing denied him was his freedom.

Galilee's smile gave Beth the courage to ask something that had been puzzling her since they had managed to escape Horus's pyramid.

'Why did you rescue me from Erewslen? Not even Morrigan could have caused any trouble as long as we were trapped in there. And changing into Machal; you didn't know it wasn't going to kill you.'

The smile never left his face, but now there was a touch of wariness to it.

'Well, I...I must admit I had my doubts. Particularly when I heard that Morrigan had – well, how can I put this? Used you to try and attract me?'

Beth blushed. She had noticed the word 'try'.

'I...I think she was joking, you know?' Embarrassed, she wanted to change the subject slightly. 'So, what changed your mind?'

He leaned closer towards her as he reached into his coat pocket.

'What else? I tossed a coin, of course.'

There was a blur of sliver in the air above his hands as he flipped a coin. He caught it on the back of his hand.

A large eye contained within a triangle had been drawn across the coin's embossed head.

'The devil's own luck, eh?' Galilee said with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

*

# Chapter 79

Stripping down to her underwear, Beth slowly walked out into the lake's water.

She expected the water to feel cold, even freezing. Yet it was warm and welcoming, rushing over her like a second skin.

Perhaps, just as she had picked up some of Lynese's powers over water, she had also taken on some of her mermaid-like qualities too.

As she threw herself into a shallow yet graceful dive, and the waters totally enveloped her, she felt strangely at home. She swam easily.

She remained underwater, finding that she could breathe as naturally as if she were in air.

She could hear Canola calling to her.

Beneath the waters, Canola's cry was even more musical and seductive than when it had drawn them to the whale marooned in the rain-soaked field.

Beth swam towards the sound. The sound swam towards Beth.

A dark shape loomed before her in the water.

Beth spun around, coming alongside Canola's great, smoothly streamlined bulk.

The wailing became a greeting.

Beth smiled, running her hands gently along Canola's silky, responsive skin.

First there was an inner tingling.

Next there was an incredible awareness of every part of her body; how it all worked together, how much of it was now redundant.

Then there came a sense that she was something more than herself, something she could reach out to, something she didn't quite understa–

Hello Beth.

Morrigan?

_No._ She giggled musically. _This is Lynese. The_ real _Lynese._

Beth was naturally suspicious.

That's impossible!

It's Morrigan who's trapped inside me, not Lynese.

I know that now. Lynese was killed by Morrigan; by _you_ , Morrigan!

The voice giggled again. It was a gentle laugh, not mocking.

Yes, I heard her say that. I can only hear her, by the way, when she's speaking to you. And so I would think she can only hear me when I'm speaking to you.

How can I be sure you're telling the truth?

And, if you really are Lynese, why didn't you speak to me earlier?

Why didn't you warn me earlier about Morrigan?

So many questions! But yes; you have a right to demand so many answers. And for so many more, too, I think. As for your first question – you can't. Not yet, at least. Your second question – I didn't want to reveal myself to Morrigan while you were still too weak and too naive to contain her. That way I could wrest some control over her myself, as she wasn't aware of my presence. Oh, you wouldn't believe how hard you would find it to even think if I hadn't held her back from constantly berating you. That I think, answers your third question.

And that's why Morrigan couldn't get rid of me so easily? Because you were holding her back?

Oh no; I'm afraid I don't have that much control over her! Fortunately, you are far more different than you believe Beth!

Far more different? With two magical spirits taking up home inside me? I think I already know how different I am!

How come my poor old ancestor happened to get two of you being zapped into her? Was she the only one nearby, poor girl?

Ahh, but that's it you see, Beth; thanks to you using Canola to look deep inside yourself, I think I now know what happened to your ancestor.

And it didn't involve anybody nearby at all!

*

Yes, Morrigan threw a powerful spell at me.

And as it seemed to her that I simply disappeared, it's not surprising that she thought she had destroyed me.

But, knowing that I probably would be destroyed if I simply tried to defend myself against such a powerful charm, I used the strength of her own magic to enhance my own speciality – the ability to heal by a sharing of souls.

In this case, I shared myself so wholly with Morrigan that I disappeared inside her.

I had already shared my soul with thousands of humans; granting them a small share of my own soul to help them heal. In return, I was unavoidably taking on a small part of their own, human essence.

Gradually, over the centuries, I had taken on more human qualities than I realised, slowly weakening my powers.

The presence of so much of the suffering of humanity suddenly appearing within Morrigan was like an unforeseen, rapidly spreading disease.

It shocked and weakened the purity of her own spirit. We both mingled and transformed.

You see, you are totally unique Beth – your ancestor wasn't a human, inhabited by a magical being.

You, like her, are magical spirit made human.

*

# Chapter 80

'Some sort of mangled incantation seems to have poured out of Morrigan as she suffered this transformation. Like she thought it was the end of the world, and every other magical being had to suffer something similar. So Lynese's sharing of souls spread, and they were all imprisoned in the nearest human female.'

'It's said that Morrigan will prophesy the end of the world – though, in this case, she seems to have brought about an end to the world she knew.'

Galilee frowned thoughtfully as his horse carefully negotiated one of the many muddy ditches they had to cross as they made their way to Hayart farm.

Beth had carefully explained everything she had learned while swimming with Canola.

Listening with equal care, Galilee had made only one interruption until now: 'No wonder Morrigan couldn't split from you; it would be like trying to split yourself down the middle and survive.'

*

Heddy and Drek once again rode ahead of Beth and Galilee, giggling and making excuses to reach out and playfully touch or prod or gently slap each other.

Beth was surprised that Heddy was taking her visit back to the farm so light-heartedly; was the reassuring, calming charm she had cast over her still working?

She felt envious of Heddy's almost casual attitude to her father's death. Her own mother's death still haunted her, especially on a night as she tried to sleep.

For her, of course, there had been nothing final about her mother's death. She had met her, talked to her.

Denied her.

If Beth were magical spirit made human, wouldn't that mean that her mother was the same?

Would that explain how she managed to survive the fire without suffering any spiritual damage?

'Galilee; we know how the magical spirits were passed on from generation to generation, yes?'

Galilee nodded sagely. 'But, let me guess – you wonder how it worked with you and your family, right?'

Beth smiled in agreement.

'A dolphin gives birth to a dolphin, a kingfisher to another kingfisher,' Galilee continued. 'But it puzzles me that it all wasn't somehow gradually weakened every time a human father was involved.'

'Ahhh,' Beth said, suddenly remembering some of the entries in the journals she had found in the trunk. 'I've had a lot of ancestors who had babies even though they insisted they hadn't been with any man.'

Galilee chuckled. 'There's our answer then. No man is involved when it comes to reproduction in your family.'

Beth felt a tinge of guilt as she thought of her father.

She had hardly thought of him, or even what might have happened to him, since the world had suffered all its changes.

Perhaps she had always sensed that lack of a real connection between them all along. Perhaps he had sensed it too; perhaps that's one of the reasons why he had walked out on them.

And mum? Would she have sensed it?

Sensed that there was nothing of him in Beth? Wouldn't that all have added to her mum's sense of loss and disconnection?

'But what was _really_ puzzling _me_ ,' Beth said, bringing the conversation back to where she had originally intended it to go, 'is the way both my mum and gran felt after they had had a child. In our case, the magical spirit wasn't being passed on, was it? Not if it was all really a part of us?'

'Ah, yessss. I've been pondering that too.'

Galilee no longer looked like a naive boy. He had the bearing and sense of natural authority of a young man.

Beth felt like a schoolgirl asking her teacher questions.

'I think, probably, they retained the – there aren't really any words for this, so even though it's nowhere near an accurate description, let's call it physical essence – they retained the physical essence, but not what we shall have to make do with calling mind – thoughts, powers, as well as a sense of purpose, such as youth, growth, and future.'

Beth burned with the irony of the terms 'youth' and 'growth'.

Heddy and Drek had just dismounted now that they had reached what remained of the farmhouse, making their recent increases in height all the more apparent. Like Galilee, they had become handsome, confident young adults in a matter of days.

Beth hadn't aged at all.

That's what comes of being something other than a purely human spirit, she thought bitterly.

Alongside her, Galilee laughed to himself.

'What's so funny?' Beth asked irritably.

'Well, you said that some of the survivors of Lyonessee had watched what happened between Morrigan and their protective little mermaid, right?'

'Yes. So what?'

'Mer maid. Mer Lynese. Mer Lyn.'

_'Merlin_.' Beth smiled.

'Move, Heddy, move!'

Alerted by Drek's panicked cry, both Galilee and Beth looked over towards the edge of the ruins.

The young couple appeared to be arguing fiercely, Drek pulling hard on Heddy as if he wanted to drag her back to the horses.

She was resisting, screaming, 'No, no! You don't understand!'

Beyond them, a shabbily dressed, pathetically weak woman was ungainly shambling across the rubble, heading their way.

Her clothes were torn, threadbare, shredded. Her skin was in even worse condition, hanging raggedly to reveal muscle and bone.

Her stare seemed blank, lifeless.

'It's a _zombie_ Heddy!'

Drek was almost tearful in his need to get Heddy away. Yet Heddy continued to pull back, struggling to approach the oncoming zombie as if she were bewitched by it.

Beth rose in her saddle, raised a hand – and was stopped from casting a spell by Galilee throwing an extended arm across her chest.

'No Beth!'

Heddy broke away from Drek's clutches.

She ran towards the haggard, rotting woman. She wrapped her arms around the walking corpse, hugging her tight.

'Heddy!' the woman croaked tenderly, stroking the girl's hair with a bony hand.

Heddy turned to face Galilee and Beth.

'It's my mum,' she cried joyously. 'My mum's come back to me!'

Galilee sighed.

'The end is over. Now it's just beginning.'

The Beginning

If you enjoyed reading this book, please remember to click that you liked it on the Kindle Rating icon.

You may also enjoy (or you may know someone else who might enjoy) these other books by Jon Jacks.

The Caught – Chapter One – The Changes – Sleeping Ugly

The Barking Detective Agency – The Healing – The Lost Fairy Tale

A Horse for a Kingdom – Charity – The Most Beautiful Things – The Last Train

The Dream Swallowers – Nyx; Granddaughter of the Night – Jonah and the Alligator

Glastonbury Sirens – Dr Jekyll's Maid – The 500-Year Circus

P – The Endless Game – DoriaN A – Wyrd Girl

Heartache High (Vol I) – Heartache High: The Primer (Vol II) – Heartache High: The Wakening (Vol III)

Miss Terry Charm, Merry Kris Mouse & The Silver Egg – Seecrets – The Wicker Slippers – The Cull

