Mark Chadbourn - The Hounds of Avalon

Mallory began to point it out just as they were assailed by a rushing wind and the odour of burned iron. Blue lightning crashed all around and thunder rolled ominously close before a hole opened up in the air. Mallory and Shavi jumped back into the shadows of a building as a stream of figures poured out. They sprawled breathlessly on the frozen ground or turned to face the portal, instantly adopting a warlike stance. When the doorway finally clashed shut, there must have been about eighty of them, quickly forming a defensive posture back-to-back in the centre of the street. They all wore ornate, bizarre armour marked with a sun crest.

‘The Tuatha De Danann,’ Shavi said in amazement.

‘You know them?’ Mallory asked.

‘They call themselves the Golden Ones and believe themselves to be gods.’

‘Enemies or friends?’

‘That has never been an easy question to answer.’ Shavi shielded his eyes from the glare of the street lights reflecting off the snow and peered at the group. ‘Is it…? Yes, I think it is.’ He marched forward from the shelter of the buildings, holding out his arms in a gesture of peace. ‘Lugh!’ he called out.

The leader of the group marched forward, proud and tall, the suspicion slowly falling from his face to be replaced by something that almost came close to awe. ‘Great hero.’ He bowed his head slightly. ‘The filid of our court still sing songs of your exploits.’

Shavi took the compliment gracefully, then motioned to Mallory who was still surveying the group with caution.

‘And a Brother of Dragons,’ Lugh said with a bow. ‘Surely, then, we have come to the right place.’

‘Why are you here?’ Shavi asked.

The tension that had turned Lugh’s face to stone fell away to reveal deep emotion. Shavi was shocked by the grief he saw there. Lugh fought to control his voice, then said, ‘The Court of Soul’s Ease has been overrun by those who were once my brothers and sisters. But no longer. Now they are my enemies for all time. They wiped from Existence all those they encountered. The night turned golden with fluttering moths.’ He gestured towards the rest of his group with a hand that trembled uncontrollably. ‘These are all that remain.’

‘The entire court was wiped out?’ Shavi said, horrified.

Lugh struggled to contain his despair. ‘If we had remained behind, we would have been extinguished, too. We retreated to the Watchtower, and then to here, to the Fixed Lands we love so much. That battle is lost, but the war will be rejoined once we have made contact with the Court of the Final Word.’

Mallory didn’t like the note he heard in Lugh’s voice. It was hard, uncompromising, and promised a brutal revenge.

‘For the time being we have come here to help you with your struggle. For if this battle is lost, our war cannot be fought. Besides,’ he added, ‘we owe a great debt to your fellow Sister of Dragons and her associate, Sister no more.’

‘Sister of Dragons?’ Mallory said. ‘Where is she?’ He looked at Shavi eagerly. ‘Then we’ve got another one.’ He paused. ‘Sister no more? What are you talking about?’

‘You do not know them?’ Lugh asked, puzzled. ‘One of the Sisters has lost the fire that blazes inside. The Morrigan now rides her. The other Sister, a brave woman filled with power, came this way before us, through the Watchtower. In the names of your kind she is called Sophie-’

Lugh didn’t have the chance to continue for Mallory turned to Shavi, passionate emotions running unchecked across his face. ‘It can’t be,’ Mallory said; he was afraid that Lugh would reveal it to be a mistake or some cruel joke.

‘The Brother of Dragons believed this Sister to be dead,’ Shavi said to Lugh.

Lugh shook his head. ‘She lives, though she was grievously wounded when she came to the Far Lands. She was repaired in the Court of the Final Word, then-’

Ceridwen emerged from the group to join Lugh. ‘Then I brought her to the Court of Soul’s Ease. Sophie is brave and true, a fine addition to the ranks of the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons.’

Mallory was afraid he would cry with the heady mix of joy and relief. ‘Where is she?’ he asked, his voice breaking.

‘The Sister of Dragons will be here,’ Ceridwen replied, ‘for the Watchtower always ensures that its occupants arrive where they are needed most.’

Mallory grabbed Shavi in a bear hug and lifted him off the ground. Shavi laughed. ‘I am so pleased for you, Mallory,’ he said. ‘And for us all.’

Mallory dropped Shavi and looked around as if Sophie would miraculously appear before him. ‘Come on! We have to find her!’

Shavi placed a hand on Mallory’s shoulder, calm, assured. ‘There will be time for a reunion, time for all the words you thought you would never have the chance to say. But that time is not now.’ He motioned to the Tuatha De Danann, depleted in number but still strong. ‘These are our allies. In the coming fight, we will need them at our side. But if they stay here, they will be taken away — or worse, attacked where they stand. We need shelter, Mallory. We must draw our forces together.’

Mallory’s heart was thundering so hard that he could barely hear Shavi’s words, but he knew the truth of them. Despite everything he felt, he accepted his duty. ‘Tell your people to follow us,’ he said to Lugh. ‘We’ll find a safe place for them until the time comes for the battle.’

Then he turned to Shavi, his face brighter and more hopeful than Shavi had ever seen it. ‘We can do this. I really think we can.’

And with that, he was away along the street, leading the strange troupe with renewed energy.

In his room, huddled before the fire but still not warm, Hal sat surrounded by piles of books that would have seemed to the casual observer to have been arranged in such a way as to form a defence against the outside world. Samantha had been forced to return to her own quarters earlier. Left on his own, the assassination of the prime minister had haunted him for much of the day, his feelings exacerbated by his memories of his recent visit with the leader. The murder would cause despair at a time when they needed hope, chaos when they were desperate for an ordered defence.

During the previous few hours, his mind had found some solace in the mystery that had tested him for so many days. Burying himself in it was an attempt to regain some measure of control when he felt so powerless, but more importantly he was still convinced that it was the key to survival.

At first the puzzle had appeared intractable, but the more he allowed himself to sink into its depths, the more he began to discover subtle connecting strands. Hal was aware of the pitfalls: that mysteries have a seductive power to lull those trying to solve them into making great leaps that, however logical they seem, take them in the wrong direction. Even so, he was sure he was close to a breakthrough.

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps pounding along the corridor without, then a desperate hammering on his door. Hal opened it to find Samantha in a distraught state.

‘Why have you risked breaking the curfew?’ Hal said, concerned, as she forced her way past him. ‘Whatever it is, they won’t be lenient if they catch you out there. I wouldn’t be surprised-’

‘Hal, shut up!’ The sharpness in her tone silenced him instantly.

‘What’s wrong?’

Samantha listened intently. Through the open door, Hal could hear shouts, running feet, drawing closer. ‘They’re coming for you, Hal!’

‘Me?’

‘They’re saying that you killed the prime minister-’

‘But I was nowhere near him when it happened!’

‘They’re saying that he was killed by some secret weapon, something you planted on him when you met with him.’