Mark Chadbourn - Always Forever

But somehow they had done it, leaving her to wait alone in painful anticipation for Veitch and the others to arrive. She clutched the Spear close to her side for comfort, feeling the warm pulse of it, the soothing heat. Strangely it appeared slightly different from when she had first received it, less rough, with more delicate inlays of brass and silver.

She hadn't given a thought to what the next twenty-four hours would bring; indeed, if she were honest with herself, she would have admitted that for several weeks she had anticipated a terrible end for all of them. It didn't frighten her anymore. When things were so likely, you made your peace with the outcome and moved on. As she stood there, she was surprised and a little disturbed to realise the worst thought that crawled around her head was that Veitch would not make it. Had his uncontrollable anger driven him to make some stupid mistake? Had his overweening bravado left him lying in a pool of blood in some Godforsaken backstreet? She was afraid of examining the subject too deeply for fear of what she would find.

She loved Church-she knew she did-but a part of her still had deep affection for Veitch; more than friendship, less than amore, not enough to make a song, more than enough to fill her with a consuming sadness that she might never see him again. Even her emotions had been so much simpler before the big change; now she couldn't even count on herself.

When she saw the glimmer of gold skin in the grey streets, and Veitch at the centre of them, dark hair flying in the breeze, she wiped her eyes, heaved in several deep breaths and turned towards the stairs.

"You're falling apart, Ryan. Losing a hand, now twisting an ankle." Ruth held the torch higher. The darkness receded along the walls of the stairwell like a living creature.

"We all heal quick." Veitch limped down the steps heavily, clutching on to the rail for support. Behind them Nuada, Lugh and the other Tuatha De Danann traipsed silently.

Veitch's mood had turned dark once more. Ruth saw it in his face the moment he had entered the tube station. Once he had passed into the gloom of the stairwell he locked himself off even further, his replies to her questions clipped and curt. There was something ineffably dangerous about him. In its milder form it was attractive, but when he got like this she was glad he was on their side.

By the time they reached the platform, Ruth's heart was pounding and her breath was short. She was surprised and disturbed by how much the claustrophobic darkness was affecting her; even with the torches, it was impossible to see more than a few feet. Although she'd been on that platform several times before, in that state it was oppressive and alien. She was acutely aware of the massive weight of earth piled up over her head. The air was stale without the circulation system working and it smelled of damp and burnt oil. It was also extremely cold. With an effort, she fought back a desperate urge to get back to the light.

"Where's the rest of them?" Veitch asked.

"I sent them down the line to rendezvous with the others at Archway." Her voice sounded strained, with incipient panic tightening its grip around her airways.

"You know it's a bleedin' maze down here. They could get lost-"

"Sorry," she snapped, sarcastically. "I foolishly thought there wasn't any time to lose."

"All right. I suppose we just have to take chances." He lowered himself down and slid off the lip of the platform on to the tracks.

Ruth hesitated a moment before following suit. She moved in close to Veitch. Lugh and a couple of the other Tuatha De Danann led the way cautiously, while the rest guarded the rear.

At the end of the platform, the black hole of the tunnel loomed up in the flickering torchlight; a mouth ready to swallow them, Ruth thought. Her skin grew cold as she stared into the darkness and she was overcome with a sudden premonition of a grave and none of them ever seeing the light again.

"What's that?" Her heart rattled frantically when she glimpsed a fleeting movement on the edge of the light.

Everyone froze. "Didn't see anything," Veitch whispered.

"There's definitely something there." Her voice was taut.

Lugh had found some oily rags on the tracks, which he tied into a large knot and lit with his torch. He whirled it once round his head and hurled it along the tunnel in front. The shadows rushed fearfully along the arc of the tunnel, but what was caught in the light for the briefest moment made Ruth shudder.

A sea of rats were frozen in the sudden glare, from wall to wall and as far as the light carried, their eyes glittering coldly. The sickening tableau was there only for an instant. As the burning rag fell, they retreated frantically, one brown-furred mass, rippling sinuously, until a second later the entire area was clear. The sound of scratching on metal rails faded away down the tunnel.

"Good job we have light," Veitch said. "They're fierce little bastards when they're hungry or cornered. I wouldn't fancy our chances against them in the dark."

"There were so many of them!"

"These tunnels were always infested. The whole city was. They used to say you were never more than three feet away from a rat. I expect it's worse now, with all the bodies and everything."

The image conjured by Veitch's comment made Ruth sick. "You know there's a danger some of the tunnels could be flooded," she said, changing the subject. "None of the pumps are working."

"That's the least of our worries."

"Do you think the Fomorii are down here?"

"They might use some of the tunnel system, but they'll be going about their business. They won't be looking out for us."

Ruth thought about this for a moment. "Are you sure? They've always been pretty smart in their planning. Second-guessing us, setting up all those backup plans if the main one didn't work. I know Calatin's gone, but there's always Mollecht and God knows what else-"

"Well, you be the bleedin' strategist, then."

"I'm just offering an opinion. I'm allowed to speak, you know."

"That's all you bleedin' well do."

"Get lost." She shoved him hard so he fell on to his injured ankle.

He cursed vehemently and turned, his face transformed by fury, his fists bunched. It was so terrifying she dropped the torch, which sputtered and fizzled but didn't go out.

"Give me that!"

"No!" She fended him off and snatched up the burning wood.

"If the torches go out we're screwed!"

"I know that!"

"Well, keep a hold of it then, you stupid-"

"What?" She rounded on him.

"Nothing." He realised he'd overstepped the mark.

"What were you going to say?" Her voice was edgy and shrill.

"Come on." He marched on ahead sheepishly. "Don't do this here," he said under his breath, "not in front of them."

"Who cares what they think?"

"I do."

They continued in silence for several minutes while Ruth's seething temper calmed. Finally she said, "You should see a therapist about all that repressed anger. The slightest thing and it comes bursting out."

He wasn't going to answer, but then he said quietly, "It never used to be a problem."

"You've had it as long as I've known you. And let me tell you, it's a liability. You fly off the handle at the slightest thing and you stop thinking rationally-"

"All right."

"We can't afford that-"

"I said all right!" He realised a second later that he'd done it again, but instead of apologising he speeded up his step until he caught up with Lugh and the point men.

They continued that way for half an hour, with Ruth wrapped in a shroud of loneliness, listening to the unforgiving echoes bounce crazily around, hinting at strangers nearby but never quite revealing anything. No one spoke; the atmosphere had grown more intense the further they progressed into the tunnels. Ruth couldn't shake the feeling there was some terrible threat lying in front of them, staying only a step or two ahead of the advancing torchlight.