Mark Chadbourn - Destroyer of Worlds

'Don't know, man. But Vishnu has appeared in nine of his forms already. For the tenth, he will come as a man riding on a horse, to destroy the Earth.'

They considered this for a moment. Sensing a darkening mood, Doctor Jay moved on. 'The Norse had their myths of Ragnarok, the end of gods and humans, when the world is destroyed after a final battle. There's more, from all over the world, but I think you get the picture.'

Decebalus snorted. 'Patterns can be broken. And stories are like the gods. They tell you one thing but mean another. The truth is slippery.'

A sudden crash made them all jump. Jerzy had pitched forwards, sending phials and bottles flying. Spasming on the floor, his eyes rolled back so that only the whites were visible. Mallory, Decebalus and the Doctor struggled to stop him hurting himself.

'A seizure?' Mallory said as Jerzy finally grew still.

'The Court of the Final Word changed him so much, it's impossible to tell what's going on inside him,' Doctor Jay said.

Jerzy remained unresponsive. But as Mallory carried him to the bed in the adjoining quarters, a low-pitched hum emanated from the Mocker, growing more intense by the second until it set all their teeth on edge.

'What the hell's that?' Mallory reeled away from the bed.

Doctor Jay clamped his hands over his ears. 'Strange days are upon us, man. It sounds like some weird radio signal.'

All attempts to revive Jerzy failed. A silvery substance, like mercury, emerged from his tear ducts and slid across the surface of his eyes until they were like mirrors, reflecting the troubled faces of Mallory, Decebalus and Doctor Jay.

'Get all the court's medics together,' Mallory said. 'I want to know what's happening to him, why it's happening now and what it means.'

With a screech of metal and a billowing cloud of hissing steam, the Last Train juddered to a halt at the gates of the Court of the Soaring Spirit.

'You ready to face all those bastards again?' Leaning on the window, Veitch watched the massive obsidian gates creak slowly open as puzzled guards emerged, weapons drawn, to investigate the arrival.

'We're on the same side now,' Church replied. 'This war is going to make a lot of difficult allies.'

'Tell me about it.' Veitch flashed a knowing glance at Church. 'Common aims, right?'

'Whatever's happened, you're one of us, Ryan. You always were and you always will be.'

Veitch grunted noncommittally, but the brief glance he exchanged with Laura as she made her way along the carriage ahead of Ruth and Shavi spoke clearly of the problems ahead.

'Congratulations, dude,' she said. 'You finished a whole train journey without killing one of us.'

'Leave him alone,' Ruth snapped.

'Oh, yeah, you would say that. Is there a man around here you haven't tapped?'

Her cheeks flushing, Ruth's eyes flashed angrily. Shavi stepped in with a gentle hand on her arm. 'It's just Laura,' he said softly.

Amidst an odour of loam and a sound like dry insect casings rattling, Ahken arrived, his obsequiousness undiminished.

'Your journey on the Last Train is over,' he said, 'and it is time to make payment.' As he spoke, Tom, Crowther and the others made their way into the carriage.

'What's the price?' Church asked.

'More than you can bear!' Tom raced up, thrusting himself between Church and Ahken.

'Most peoples of the Far Lands and the Fixed Lands only ride the Last Train once, and their destination is always the same,' Ahken continued with an unsettling edge to his voice. 'Out of deference, I have allowed the Seelie Court free passage on their flight back to their homeland. They will join me again shortly. But you, Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, have journeyed on the Last Train three times, and three times is the limit.'

Outside the window, on the dusty approach to the city, the members of the Seelie Court waited curiously for the other passengers to join them. Instinctively, Church felt that the train had already started moving imperceptibly, gradually building speed.

'You must let them alight,' Tom insisted. 'You allowed them passage from the Fixed Lands-'

'The Last Train was summoned by blood,' Ahken said.

'You cannot take them to the Final Destination! The survival of everything depends on them!'

As Ahken's smile broadened, Church had the uneasy feeling that something was squirming just beneath his skin. 'Your kind has little respect for the eternal patterns of Existence and the great inviolable rules. That one-' Ahken pointed to Veitch '-transgressed the ultimate law when he travelled to the Grim Lands to bring back this one.' Ahken indicated Shavi. 'That has not been forgotten. Indeed, the current crisis that grips all the lands is a direct result of that action. You are architects of this suffering.'

Church and Veitch stepped forwards, hands on their swords. Tom held them back. 'Don't,' he said quietly. 'You can't hurt it. What you see is not what is.'

'You were our only chance to escape Earth when the spiders came,' Church said. 'We had no choice but to call you.'

'Every action has repercussions, seen and unforeseen. You must take responsibility for them.'

'Wait,' Tom said. 'They are too important for their lives to be forfeit-'

'No one is too important.' There was a crack like thunder to Ahken's voice.

'Take me in lieu,' Tom pressed.

'I have you anyway, True Thomas. You knew the price asked the last time you travelled with me. But you have traded away your future, and now you are worthless to me.'

Recognising that Ahken would not back down, Church part-drew Caledfwlch and the Blue Fire fizzed and crackled around him. The gravity surrounding Ahken grew by the moment, and Church was now in no doubt as to whom he represented. They could not defeat such a force.

'Quick, now! Be swift, like mercury, like the wind!' The voice rose up around them before Church caught a glimpse of a figure slipping low and lithe along the carriage, more mischievous grin and sizzling eyes than substance.

At the same time, Ahken was altering into something that filled Church with dread. Clasped hands became hooked claws and the smell of the grave intensified, but Church only had an instant to glimpse it, for there was a flash of blinding light and then utter darkness.

The carriage door opened with a sound like escaping steam, and Church instinctively propelled those nearest to him out into the bright daylight. As he sprawled in the dust, he saw the others urged unceremoniously out around him, before a flash of brown sealskin bolted out to pause close by his ear. He looked deeply into yellow eyes and saw world upon world before their colour changed.

'Grasped from the jaws of dark disaster. You, merry wanderer, are the Puck's prime spark. Enjoy your good fortune, happy fool and lover, for falling so neatly in my purview.'

'Thank you,' Church said, still shaken by what he had sensed in the carriage.

'No, thank you, Brother of Dragons. It serves me that you serve me, but the Puck cannot always be on hand to pluck you from the fire. The end can only be achieved by your own devices, and perhaps not even then. That is the way of the weft and the weave, and we are all at its mercy, even the Oldest Things in the Land.'

In the space between thoughts, the Puck was gone. He had saved and guided them several times, but Church feared he was shepherding them towards an uncertain future that would benefit only the Puck.

With a belch of steam, the Last Train raced away. Amidst the billowing cloud and the rising dust, Church had the impression that it wasn't a train at all, but a long black insect scurrying across the land, the roar of its wheels an angry cry that promised retribution another day.

'I saw the Puck, too,' Shavi said, helping Church to his feet. 'He plays a long game, but at this moment I am glad he has chosen to act as our protector.'