Mark Chadbourn - The Burning Man

Jerzy gave an anguished cry. A sales rep with a garish yellow tie lurched desperately towards the exit. The features of the shapeshifter closest to him fluidly transformed into those of a fox, though the body remained human. Lunging with snapping jaws, it tore the face clean off the sales rep. A shake of its snout and the flesh was swallowed, blood spraying from its whiskers. The leader gave a smile that was mockingly contrite, and then the Hu Hsien advanced as one, those at the rear eliminating the now-screaming diners with efficient brutality.

Sophie was only shaken from her shock when a kitchen knife flashed past her ear and embedded itself in the shoulder of one of the Hu Hsien. His expression registered disbelief, and before that thought had left his mind, Caitlin, who had thrown the knife, was upon him with a second knife. She rammed the blade upwards through his jaw and into his brain.

Sophie was astonished at the transformation that had come over her new friend. Caitlin moved with balletic grace and strength, her face now a warrior’s, hard and focused. She had already slain another of the Hu Hsien before Jerzy’s cry alerted them from the rear of the cafe. He had found the back door through which the kitchen staff had bolted. Mallory propelled Sophie towards it, and then grabbed Caitlin’s arm as she prepared to confront the remaining snarling, now-wary Hu Hsien.

Out on the street, they ran for the cathedral as a wild barking rose up. The Hu Hsien gave pursuit, now fox, now human, now something of both.

‘I seriously need a sword, like Church’s,’ Mallory snarled.

As they threw themselves inside the newly opened cathedral, blue sparks crackled from their feet.

‘We’re not going to outrun them,’ Sophie gasped.

Jerzy stood in their path, arms outstretched. ‘Wait, friends. We are safe. The Blue Fire in the ground, here in your own Great Dominion, makes this a place of sanctuary. Those loathsome things will not be able to set foot in here.’

Sophie saw that Jerzy was right. The Hu Hsien hovered along the cathedral’s boundary in human form, their eyes glittering with malice.

‘Next time there will be a reckoning,’ the leader said. The group moved back, their bodies folding into fox-form, then shimmering into nothingness as they slipped into the morning sunlight.

‘What were they?’ Mallory leaned against the cool stone to catch his breath.

‘There are many secrets in the vast spread of Existence,’ Jerzy began hesitantly. ‘Each of the races populating this wondrous place only sees a small fragment of all there is. None have the great view of the complete tapestry.’

‘And you know more?’ Mallory said suspiciously. ‘What makes you so well informed?’

Jerzy’s breath caught in his throat. He chewed a knuckle, unsure whether he had already said too much.

‘Leave him, Mallory,’ Sophie said.

‘The Golden Ones — the Tuatha De Danann — believe they are the centre of Existence,’ Jerzy continued hastily. ‘They are not. There are many races of power, each overseeing their own Great Dominion, in this world and the Otherworld. And there were many greater powers before, and above, and beyond. The Hu Hsien serve the King of Foxes in the Great Dominion to the east. Most of these powers still slumber as they have done for an age, waiting to be awakened. Why the Hu Hsien are active, I do not know.’

‘They were determined to stop us crossing to the Far Lands,’ Caitlin noted, ‘which suggests to me that we’re doing the right thing.’

‘What happened to you back there?’ Sophie said. ‘You were scary.’

Caitlin looked haunted. ‘I just reacted. It was instinct.’ Massaging her temples, she struggled to recall fleeting memories. ‘Things I learned … that the person I used to be learned … Sorry, I’m not making any sense.’

‘If you can do that again, I’ll have you in the thick of it any time,’ Mallory said.

Caitlin smiled with honest gratitude at the praise. Curiously, Sophie noted a faint, uncomfortable expression cross Mallory’s face.

Jerzy urged them through the vast, ringing silence of the cathedral and behind the altar to a little chapel built in the memory of Thomas a Becket. Inside, the air was suffused with so much energy it felt like a storm was brewing.

‘Wow,’ Sophie said dreamily.

‘What now?’ Mallory ranged around the chapel, apparently oblivious to the euphoric atmosphere.

‘Can’t you see it?’ Caitlin dropped to her knees to indicate a near-invisible filigree of Blue Fire running in a spiral pattern on the stone floor.

‘Your true sight is returning,’ Jerzy said. ‘You are becoming who you were always meant to be.’

‘Here, I think.’ Caitlin traced the spiral to its nexus. She looked round at the others, hesitantly raised her hand, then plunged it into the focal point. There was a flash of the pure blue of a summer sky, and then the room was empty.

‘These are the Last Days! This is the End-Time!’ the wild-haired man roared as he pushed through the crowds traipsing through the hall of Heathrow Airport Terminal Three. He thrust badly scrawled leaflets into the hands of reluctant passers-by. Shavi requested one.

‘Why do you encourage the nuts?’ Laura sighed.

‘The next great prophet will not be the person you imagine,’ Shavi replied. ‘They never have been. Visionaries will rise up from the great mass of the people in unforeseen places. I like to investigate all possibilities.’ He gave his oddly peaceful smile. ‘Who would wish to say they walked past the wisest person in the land without a second glance?’

‘Yes, it’s true. You are completely barking.’

Church’s attention remained on the armed, black-flak-jacketed members of the Police Elite Firearms Unit who were patrolling the airport in response to what the media was describing as ‘a major terrorist attack’ in London’s West End the previous night.

Ruth slipped an arm through his. ‘There are seats on a flight to Oslo,’ she said. ‘Do you still want to do this? We’re so exposed here. No Blue Fire to keep us safe.’

‘It’s the quickest route. If we can just stay off the radar long enough-’

Her dark eyes were fixed firmly on his, and he realised she wasn’t listening to a word he was saying. ‘What do the words “Always Forever” mean?’ she asked.

‘What kind of question is that?’

‘They’re echoing around in my head. I think I’m starting to remember …’ Then, for no clear reason, she hugged him tightly. ‘I’m so glad we found each other again,’ she whispered.

As he held her, Church became aware of odd looks and sly glances, rising out of nowhere like the first wind of winter blowing through the crowd. A young boy was pointing at him, laughing with amazement. His mother’s expression was a dark reflection of her child’s, her eyes darting like an animal’s as she attempted to haul the boy away.

Laura grabbed his arm. ‘The balloon’s gone up.’ She nodded towards the large TV screens suspended over the terminal that had been showing BBC News 24 coverage of the deployment of more troops in the Middle East. It now featured grainy CCTV footage of four people breaking into Oxford Circus Tube Station. Around it were blown-up close-ups of himself, Ruth, Laura and Shavi, below which ran the legends ‘FIRST TERRORIST PICTURES’ and ‘SECURITY FORCES SEARCH FOR SUSPECTS’.

‘I don’t believe it. They’re trying to blame us for what happened?’ Ruth said.

‘Come on.’ Church urged the three of them into the crowd.

‘To the check-in desk?’ Laura asked.

Church felt responsible for the glimmer of fear in her eyes; he should have been smarter, faster. ‘It’s too late for that now. Get outside, find somewhere to lie low for a while.’