Mark Chadbourn - Always Forever

Once Witch had hacked a Fomorii warrior into a pile of seeping chunks, the battle turned, although both Laura and Shavi were a little concerned at the glee with which he despatched his enemy.

Yet it was a short-lived victory. More and more Night Walkers began to stream in from outside. "They're trying to force us downstairs," Veitch said. "That means we go up."

It was easier for them to hold their ground as they fought while edging backwards up the steps. The Fomorii could stand only two abreast and as every one fell it made it harder for the others to clamber over the bodies.

"I hope we do not meet any more coming down," Shavi said.

"I'm more concerned about what happens when we get to the top," Laura replied.

Church was beginning to wonder exactly how high the tower soared above the cloud cover. It felt like they had been climbing for an hour or more, although the heat hadn't diminished at all. Increasingly, explosions rocked the construction to its very core; chunks fell from the ceiling and walls. Through the windows he occasionally caught glimpses of Fabulous Beasts laying waste to the city and was stunned by both their number and diversity. He had never seen so much grace and power in one form, so many gleaming colours. How could humanity have traded them away, and all the wild magic that came with them, for the brutal rationalism of the twenty-first century?

The Fabulous Beasts provided an uplifting counterpoint to the oppressive presence of Balor looming darkly. The rising sense of threat was putting a huge psychological strain on all of them. There was a perpetual feeling of Balor always standing one pace behind them, ready to strike.

In a sense, that was true. Church could feel Balor's essence throbbing in the very walls; it was all a part of him. The dark god of the Fomorii was an amorphous evil that pervaded everything, even the very air; Church could taste the sourness when he swallowed. The atmosphere was almost painfully pregnant; despite the power it already held, Church knew the Beast was waiting for the Doors of Samhain to open so it could claim the undreamable force it needed to destroy all life. It could afford to wait; they were insignificant beside it.

The steps opened out on a wide, flat area covering the entire floor space of the tower. It was the first time they had come across a room like it, but they could tell from the windows around the circumference that it wasn't the top. After the claustrophobic gloom, they were pleased to see the rough holes cut in the walls provided a pleasant amount of sunlight, but there was still not enough to illuminate the shadows at the centre of the room.

As they tentatively crossed the floor in search of the next flight of steps, they noticed a figure sitting hunched in that dark zone, next to a shimmering motion in the air. With weapons at the ready, they approached until they saw it was Niamh. Church laid down the head and the Wayfinder and hurried over, but she was so locked in her thoughts she didn't see him until he was almost upon her.

When she did look up, her face was filled with such a terrible grief that Church stopped short. The movement all around her were golden moths rising up to the ceiling. On the floor lay the gradually disappearing bodies of the Tuatha De Danann guards.

Church dropped down and put his arm around her shoulders. She rested her head against him, oddly frail for such a powerful being. "I'm sorry for your people," he said. "Did the Fomorii hurt you?"

"There were no Night Walkers."

"Then what happened?"

She raised her head to look at him deeply, her face haunted, her eyes damned. "I happened."

As her meaning gradually dawned on him, he looked around at the brutally slain bodies uneasily.

"Do not think badly of me, Jack." Every part of her was shaking. "I have committed a crime that will ensure my name is despised by my people for all time. I never thought I had it within me to commit such a monstrous act. But I did, Jack, I did."

Church tried to console her, but she would have none of it.

"I did it for you, Jack. For all Fragile Creatures. I did it for all existence. And I have lost myself in the process."

Church looked round until he saw the chest a little way away. "The Wish-Hex?"

"I attempted to prevent them unleashing it. They ignored my pleas. And so I… I…" Her face fell into her hands; her sobs were silent and racking.

"I know it's a terrible burden," Church said gently, "but you did do the right-"

"You do not understand, Jack. I failed. The Wish-Hex has been set in motion."

He stared at the chest, suddenly cold despite the heat. "In motion?"

"There is no stopping it now. Soon, very soon, it will begin."

Church fought back a wave of despair. The odds had always been incalculable, but now it truly was hopeless. He began to ask her how long it would take for the energy to drive the plague across the world, then caught himself; it didn't really matter. The Tuatha De Danann would get what they wanted: a universe free of competition.

He helped her to her feet. "Don't worry. You did your best." He looked across at the others, wondering whether to tell them that whatever they now did was futile.

Niamh took his hand. "There will be an ending, Jack, but it might not be how you imagine," she said as if she could read his mind.

"But what can we possibly-"

He was interrupted by the sound of violent fighting rising from the stairwell. Ruth rushed over to investigate before calling back excitedly, "It's Shavi, Ryan and Laura." The hope in her face made him feel even worse.

"We need to keep going," he shouted.

The Bone Inspector sniffed the air like an animal. "I think we're nearly there."

"Then they'll do anything they can to try to stop us."

"Time's running out," the Bone Inspector continued. He looked more worried than Church had ever seen him. "Not long left now."

"Will you stop it with the countdown!" Church snapped.

Laura and Shavi emerged at the top of the steps. Veitch was just below, holding back the Fomorii. "There's bleedin' millions of them now!" he yelled. "They're not bothering with the ship any more. They just want us!"

Ruth came running up to him. "The next flight of steps are just over there."

"Okay, shout down to Ryan. When he reaches the top of his steps, he'll just have to run for it." He turned back to Niamh, who had lifted the chest easily. "What's the point in taking that along with us? We might as well leave it here now."

"I am afraid of it falling into the hands of the Night Walkers. They created this Wish-Hex. They may know some way to ensure it destroys only Fragile Creatures."

"I appreciate what you've done, Niamh, more than you can know." Her sad smile told him how much his words meant to her.

He called Ruth over to help Niamh with the chest while he reclaimed the Wayfinder and the head; its blue glow was coming out in waves, accompanied by a dim but insistent hum. The features continued to move; Church had the unnerving feeling the head had been listening to them.

At the foot of the steps, he waited, urging the others up ahead of him. Eventually Veitch came sprinting past.

"You all right, boss?" he said with a grin.

"Fine and dandy." As he leapt on to the steps at the rear, Church threw one backwards glance and was instantly chilled. Flooding the vast room was what appeared to be a river of shadows. He knew it was the Fomorii, but it was like one entity, of one mind. It moved and spread with such speed he guessed there must be hundreds, if not thousands, of the Night Walkers pouring in.

Then the awful sight was wiped out in an instant by a blinding revelation. "What's that foul smell?" he called out.

Ruth's voice floated back. "It's the Fomorii. Nuada told me that when the Caraprix is in control it stimulates that stink."