D. Mitchell: The King of Terrors

Doradus was quietly melting into the dark. ‘I did find it rather fitting that Mam Tor stands for Big Mother,’ he said. ‘It adds a touch of drama to proceedings, don’t you think? It’s a shame if she’s dead. Such a missed opportunity. But if I can drag you back to our little soiree — it appears the dynamics of it have changed somewhat. Most interesting.’ He turned directly to face Caroline. ‘It’s down to you. Your last chance. You can either side with me and hand Davies over or you can watch your father thrown off a cliff. There’s still a chance for you. You don’t have to die for such a worthless man.’

Rayne lifted his head. ‘Don’t listen to him, Caroline.’

She looked at him, her resolve beginning to melt like wax in fire. ‘Father,’ she said quietly. ‘I can’t…’ The gun began to droop.

‘I love you,’ said Rayne, his lips bleeding, dripping onto his bare chest.

In that instant he turned, grabbed a hold of Camael and threw himself off the cliff, Camael screaming wildly as they tumbled down into the black void, the mist spiralling in a vortex where they’d stood.

‘No!’ she screamed loudly, darting forward instinctively. Too late she saw Gabriel raise his gun, her attention momentarily diverted to the cliff edge.

A shot rang out and Gabriel jerked sideways, the bullet from Gareth’s gun catching him in the arm. Caroline raised her own gun and sent two shots into Gabriel’s chest. He collapsed instantly with scarce a sound. Gareth dashed from the cover of the cairn, turning his attention to Doradus who had run into the dark. He was lost to the mist almost at once. Gareth let off a couple of quick shots into the night and gave chase.

‘Be careful’ Caroline called, and with one last look at where her father had disappeared, her grief turning to anger, she ran after him.

Gareth made out a vague shape ahead. He fired on the run but missed. He was painfully aware that the edge of the cliff ran close by but he, like Caroline, was driven on by rage, by the need for vengeance. She was right; the old Gareth was dead.

He could hear her close on his heels, every now and again calling out to him. But he was drawn blindly to finding Doradus. It had to end, he thought; one way or another it will end tonight.

The mist lifted briefly and he saw Doradus some way ahead. Gareth stopped, took careful aim as Caroline had taught him, and he was about to pull the trigger when Doradus disappeared from view downwards, as if a trapdoor had opened and swallowed him up. He heard a muffled scream then the sound of raining stones. He went to the spot and realised it was a very steep scree slope, dropping down into the dark below. For a split second he saw Doradus, half rolling, half sliding, down the rocky incline. He let off all the remaining rounds in his gun till it clicked on empty. There was no sign of Doradus now, only the dull crunching of stones and rocks. He was about to leap into the void after him when Caroline’s hand pulled him back from the brink.

‘No, don’t do it! You’ll kill yourself!’ she said.

‘I have to make sure he’s dead,’ he said.

‘He can’t survive that. He’s dead.’

‘I have to see him dead!’ he said, his eyes filled with tears of fury.

They heard the harsh sounds of tumbling rocks in the distance below them. Then it fell silent. Gareth sank heavily to his knees, letting the gun fall to the grass, his chest heaving. ‘You could have saved him,’ he said. ‘You could have saved your father’s life simply by handing me over.’

‘We can’t stay here,’ she said, her voice emotionless. Then she hit him hard across the head. ‘You didn’t have to put yourself in danger, too, damn you! You could have been killed!’

For a few seconds they stared in silence, down into the unfathomable maw. He got shakily to his feet. ‘Love and loyalty is all,’ he said under his breath.

‘What?’

‘Something an old friend used to say.’ He sighed, rubbing his eyes. ‘Where do we go from here, Caroline?’ he said. ‘What if I’m no more immortal than any other man on the street? What has all this madness been for?’

‘One of those things,’ she said.

He looked deep into her eyes. The shield had gone up again. She was on automatic. He didn’t have her steely resolve, he thought. And what if he really was immortal? How could he face all that? He thought about what Lambert-Chide had said about the King of Terrors being death. Then he thought about his mother, the look of a woman beaten down by untold years on the run, in hiding. The King of Terrors wasn’t death, he thought bleakly; it was living forever.

‘I don’t think I can do this all alone, Caroline,’ he said, the adrenaline used up, his legs going weak. ‘I don’t know how.’

She looked about her. Listening intently, her senses sharp. ‘We can’t hang around,’ she said. Then touched his arm. ‘You’re not alone. You’ve got me.’

‘I can’t lay my burden on you, Caroline,’ he said sullenly.

‘You’re not going to get all sulky on me?’ she said sharply. ‘We’ve got a long haul ahead of us. It’s not over by a long chalk. Even if Doradus is dead, his work isn’t. So I can’t be doing with sulky.’

He stiffened, straightened his back, flexed his shoulders. Picked up the gun and brushed dirt from it. ‘Don’t worry, I’m ready. I guess.’

‘That’s my little soldier,’ she said. ‘Well don’t just stand there; get your arse in gear!’

She led the way at a pace, the mist curling around them as they faded into the night.