Mark Chadbourn - Jack of Ravens

What had appeared to be simply entering another room felt like moving to a different place entirely. The clammy underground air was replaced by a balmy summer warmth. Sand crunched beneath Church’s feet and a night sky dappled with unfamiliar constellations hung overhead. Gradually, he became accustomed to his surroundings. A hot breeze brought with it the scent of steaming vegetation. Ahead he could see palm trees silhouetted against the sky: an oasis; a garden.

‘Where are we?’ Etain whispered in awe.

‘The desert, I think,’ Church said.

A blue light amongst the trees pulled them towards it. The others drew their weapons with trepidation.

Church pushed through spiky-leaved bushes until he arrived at a lake. But instead of water it was filled with Blue Fire moving as though it were a liquid. A dark shape swam sinuously in its depths, but Church’s attention was drawn to a woman who stood in the centre of the lake, seemingly on the very surface of the flaming energy. Her skin was pale, her hair black, her eyes as blue as the fire.

‘Greetings, Quincunx.’ Church flinched; though the woman’s lips had moved, the voice was deep like a man’s, perhaps not quite human. ‘The first of many,’ she continued with a smile.

The surface behind her broke and a head rose on a long serpentine neck. It had scales and tines and horns and a form that reminded Church of pictures in books he had read as a child. Fire licked around its open mouth, and beneath the surface leathern wings were just visible amongst the coils of its body. Yet the strangest thing was that the creature appeared to be made of the Blue Fire itself. Now and then, Church glimpsed its vascular system beneath the flickering sapphire skin.

Behind Church, the others cowered. ‘Strike it now,’ Branwen hissed, ‘before it slays us with its breath.’

‘Do not be afraid,’ the woman said, and it seemed to Church that the beast was somehow speaking through her. ‘I am here to give you knowledge and purpose.’

‘Can you cure me?’ Church asked.

The woman and the beast jointly turned their attention to him. ‘You are filled with the black poison of the Devourer of All Things. Your time is nearly done.’ A pause, then: ‘Step forward.’

Church obeyed. Etain and Tannis leaped forward to prevent Church from burning himself in the flames, but he was surprised to find the Blue Fire cool. Euphoria rushed through him, and he could feel the poison being scoured from his system.

‘Thank you,’ he said. It didn’t seem enough. Whatever the fire was doing to him, he felt he could overcome any obstacle.

‘And you can, if the Blue Fire burns in your heart.’ The woman appeared to be privy to every thought that passed through his head. ‘Existence needs champions,’ she continued. ‘There is a great struggle ahead. Battle and suffering and death. But also wonder. And magic. Will you be the first?’

Everyone was too awed to speak, so the woman asked again: ‘Will you stand for Existence against the dark? Will you carry the Pendragon Spirit in your heart, and keep it alive so that it can move freely from champion to champion across the ocean of time? Will you be my Brothers and Sisters, the first of many?’

Filled with the rush of the Blue Fire, Church felt himself speaking. ‘I will.’

The woman smiled. ‘You are already the first amongst all, Jack Churchill. But there must be five. Always five. The Quincunx must be complete if the full power of Existence is to manifest.’

Tannis looked to Church. ‘If my good friend and leader says he will, then I must follow.’ Tannis grinned broadly and stepped into the fire. The minute it touched him, a moan of ecstasy left his lips. ‘Ah! I never knew! Brothers, sisters — follow me. Drink of this lake. Taste this power.’

Hesitantly, the others followed until they all stood in the lake. Their fear was soon forgotten. Instead, they grinned at each other, and hugged and kissed. Church felt a part of them, as if they had always known each other and always would. Etain fell into his arms and kissed him with a pure love, before moving on to Tannis, and Owein, and finally Branwen.

Church saw a blue star burning brightly in each of their chests, not floating on the surface, but buried inside. He realised with awe that he was looking through the physical to the essence of each one, the ghost in the machine. It was beautiful and immeasurably powerful and honest. Though memories faded and bodies decayed, he knew he would never forget the revelation until his dying day.

‘Now and for evermore, champions all,’ the woman said with a soft, soothing sibilance. ‘The spark of Blue Fire within you all has become a flame to drive out the darkest shadows. Where there is despair, you will bring hope. Where there is weakness, you will bring strength. Where there is fear, you will bring courage. The Pendragon Spirit has created an unbreakable bond that links this Quincunx, and all future champions of Existence, for all time. You are Brothers and Sisters. Be free.’

The incandescence became brighter, and then brighter still, rising up from the lake of fire until Church could see nothing but blue. The blue of summer skies, the blue of a peaceful ocean. Tranquil, eternal, majestic.

Church woke on the warm grass at the centre of Boskawen-Un. The setting sun made the sky a blaze of scarlet. Tannis, Etain, Owein and Branwen stirred around him, muttering the last remnants of a fading dream that still filled them with wonder.

‘Finally.’ Conoran sat with his back to one of the stones. He glowered, but a smile lurked just behind his stern expression.

‘Sunset?’ Church struggled to comprehend how a day had been lost.

‘The rules of our world do not apply in that place. Time moves like smoke in the breeze, back and forth and then not there at all.’

‘What place do you speak of?’ Owein looked around, blinking. ‘We were in a cavern beneath Boskawen-Un.’

‘If you believe that, you are more stupid than you appear,’ Conoran said.

Realisation of what they had experienced came to them as one and they all looked at each other in amazement.

‘We are Brothers and Sisters of Dragons,’ Tannis said, scarcely believing.

‘But what does that mean?’ Etain said.

Church tried to make sense of what they had been told. ‘We’re joined, on some deep level. There’s something inside us — the Pendragon Spirit — that marks us out as champions-’

‘Of Existence,’ Branwen finished. ‘Life.’

Owein flexed one hand, examining his skin for some superficial sign of what they had experienced. ‘It makes us stronger, perhaps. Wiser-’

‘It means you have a job to do,’ Conoran said curtly. ‘No more drifting through days without purpose. You have received a great gift, but there is a price to pay, and that price is no more peace until the work is finished.’

Tannis and the others continued to smile at each other, but only Church understood the truth in Conoran’s words. Conoran saw him weighing this and said, ‘And you, Giantkiller, have received the greatest gift of all: your life. Against that, this price is nothing.’

‘But what does it mean?’ Branwen pressed. ‘What lies ahead for us now?’

‘That,’ Tannis said, ‘we shall soon discover.’

As the shadows lengthened, they collected themselves and sought out their horses in nearby copses, still skittish after the passing of the Redcaps. Conoran’s grim mood had returned, and he had taken to glancing at the sliver of red on the horizon.

‘You think the Redcaps are going to be waiting for us on the way back?’ Church asked.

‘When you are weak and ineffectual, the powers that exist in the worlds around us have no need to notice you. But the more you rise up, the more they will pay attention. And those powers do not brook challenges from humankind.’