Mark Chadbourn - Jack of Ravens

‘If you know so much, tell me what’s been taken from my memory.’

Hal faded again, and when he returned Church thought he detected a note of sadness in his voice. ‘Not so long ago I would have told you everything you wanted to know, but now … I can see the bigger picture.’

Church laughed derisively.

‘You wouldn’t understand, and I don’t blame you for that. It’s all a matter of perspective. What I’ve learned is that not-knowing is part of knowing. That sounds like some kind of double-speak, but it’s not. The only way we learn and change and grow — because that’s what life is all about, and believe me, this is really about life — is by experiencing the journey ourselves.’

‘You sound like some fairground medium,’ Church said.

‘I’m sorry, but somehow the real, basic truths always end up coming across like that. I think it’s our built-in cynical streak.’

‘Our?’ Church thought he glimpsed a flicker of a smile in the blue.

‘Let me put it another way,’ Hal continued. ‘When your mother told you, “Don’t touch, it’s hot,” did you listen? Course you didn’t, because it’s a fact of life that nobody learns anything important by being told. You have to feel the pain yourself.’

‘That’s reassuring.’

‘All I’m saying, Church, is that you’re on a journey of discovery on lots of different levels. And what you’ll learn about yourself will be just as important as the facts you uncover.’ Again the note of sadness. ‘If I told you what you needed to know, you’d only get half of the equation.’

‘So basically you’re next to useless.’

When Hal spoke again, his voice had grown grave. ‘You’re on a long journey. A long, long journey, and it won’t be easy. I could save you a lot of hardship along the way, but there will be times when you can go down one path or another, and you’ve got to make those choices yourself or you won’t be any use when you get to the end of the road.’

‘And what am I supposed to do when I arrive?’

Another pause during which the shadows in the room appeared to grow darker. ‘Storm clouds are gathering, Church. That’s another cliche, but it’s the best way I can describe it. If you don’t believe in Evil, Church, Evil as a force of intelligence, you ought to start now. It’s gathering its strength, waiting for the right moment. Everything’s at stake, Church — everything you believe in, everything that matters. That power knows you’re a threat to it-’

‘Me?’ Church said incredulously.

‘And you are. It’ll do anything to stop you. Even now it’s searching, scanning Existence, sending its agents out to track you down. In fact, you’ve met some of them already-’

‘The Redcaps.’

‘They don’t act alone. You’ll soon find out how widespread that threat is, and exactly what you’re facing. Stand firm, Church. Don’t turn away. Existence needs you. According to what I know about you, I reckon you’ll make the right choices along the way.’

‘But you can’t be sure.’

‘No. I can’t.’

Church thought he saw other faces buried deeper in the flickering fire. A feeling of hope emanated from them. ‘Is there anything you can tell me that will help?’

‘Not now. But you’ll encounter me again. There’ll be moments when you’ll really need me, and then I’ll try to do what I can.’

‘That’s if I make it that far. I’m dying-’

‘It’s a spiritual poison. The Enemy landed a lucky blow when you first dropped into this place — one of its agents stuck you with a black spider. The aim was to get you off the board right away. Your resilience has brought you this far. If you walk through that door, you’ll find what you need to clear the poison. You won’t get back the memories it stole, but you’ll be ready for the fight.’

Church eyed the door with uncertainty. The real dangers clearly lay in the things Hal could not bring himself to say.

‘Go through the door, Church. Take the first step on your quest. You’ve got a vast gulf to cross and a million hardships to overcome before you can rest. Just one word of advice: when things get darkest, don’t turn away from the light. Don’t ever give up hope. If you do, you’re gone. All is lost.’

The column of fire retreated into the brazier, and Hal’s voice was replaced by a ringing silence. The others were examining the Celtic motifs on the wall, and Church got the impression that the whole conversation with Hal had happened in a fraction of a second.

The door was made of polished granite. Church couldn’t imagine who had made it, or constructed the chamber in which they stood. In the centre of the door at head height was a graven image of a serpent eating its own tail: an ouroboros, an ancient symbol for the cyclical and eternal nature of life. Level with his waist were the imprints of five hands of varying sizes. Church’s own hand fitted the central imprint perfectly, but none of the others. There was no handle on the door.

‘I think we each need to put a hand here,’ Church mused. ‘The door could be fitted with some kind of balance. The right pressure might move it.’

When there was no response, he looked back. Tannis, Owein, Etain and Branwen stared at the door apprehensively. Conoran watched Church with a cold, expectant eye.

‘What’s wrong?’ Church asked.

‘It has the mark of the dragon,’ Owein said.

‘You must enter alone. We will not follow.’ Branwen rubbed her hands together feverishly.

‘I can’t do it on my own.’ A rush of nausea from the poison swept through him. ‘All right, just help me push the door open. I’ll go in alone.’ The look of fear in their faces made him feel guilty; he had forgotten that for all their emotional and intellectual sophistication, they were still the product of superstitious times.

Conoran pointed one slender finger at Church. ‘If they open the door they must enter.’

‘You know more than you’re saying.’ The poison and disorientation made Church snap with irritation.

Conoran’s eyes glowed with a cold light that made Church regret his tone.

‘You haven’t come this far just for me,’ he said to the others. The delirium was growing worse again. ‘You’ve done it for your people. You think I can help defend them against the gods, and you may be right. But if you walk away now, I won’t be able to do anything because I’ll be dead. And what will happen then if the gods return?’ Church felt a twinge at the shameless emotional manipulation, but he could see in their eyes that it was working.

‘Your family and friends need you. Your tribe needs you,’ he continued. ‘I know you’re scared of what lies ahead, but I’ll stand with you. You’ve seen me fight. You know what I can do with this.’ He touched the sword, which sang quietly in response. ‘Together we can survive this. Didn’t I help you escape the Redcaps?’ He ran out of steam as poison-pain burned his heart, but he could see he had done enough. Conoran was smiling.

Tannis stepped forward and pressed his right hand into a snugly fitting hollow. ‘I stand with you, Jack, Giantkiller.’ He smiled warmly, all trace of fear expunged now that he had made his choice.

‘And I.’ Etain’s smile was shy, but her eyes blazed when she looked at Church.

Owein followed suit, and then finally — reluctantly — Branwen. All of their hands fitted perfectly into one or other of the hollows.

‘Almost as if it was meant to be,’ Conoran said wryly.

A short period of anticipation gave way to a crackle of blue sparks as the door swung open.

‘I await your return,’ Conoran said.

Church braced himself, then crossed the threshold.