Mark Chadbourn - Darkest hour

"It's a shock at the moment, more than anything because she was the last one you would have thought would have put her neck on the line. She never gave any sign-"

"That's because it was all going on inside."

Ruth eyed him incisively. "Did you know what she was really like?"

He shook his head. "I knew she had depths, but I don't think anybody in the world really knew what was going on inside her head."

"Did you love her?"

There was a long pause. "I don't know. I don't think so. I cared for her. This sounds like some stupid sixth-form conversation!" He stood up and paced angrily around the perimeter of the firelight.

Ruth waited till he'd calmed a little before continuing, "I wonder what's happened to the others."

"I can't believe they're dead. I'm not even going to think it until I see the evidence in front of me."

"You have changed, you know."

He nodded. "We both have. We've been to the lowest, darkest points of our lives and we've come out the other side. And I think we're both better for it."

Ruth let his words sink in, then asked, "Would you have killed me?"

He looked at her suspiciously across the fire, the dancing flames throwing curious shadows across his face. "I don't know. I knew I ought to."

"You were right. Of course you were. I would have done it to you. We have to think of the big picture-"

His look stopped her in her tracks; there was too much emotion in it, the backed-up excess of weeks of agonising deliberation. "There is no big picture. The only one that counts is this one here." He drew a small rectangle in the air in front of his eyes. "Reality exists inside us, not out here." He gestured towards the dark countryside. "And sometimes one life is more important than millions."

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them sure what to say next. They were saved from having to say anything in the too-charged atmosphere by the Bone Inspector, who strode out of the night with an armful of food. "There are some houses down the ways. Nobody left alive in them." He threw the provisions next to the fire and leaned on his staff for support; he looked hundreds of years old in the firelight.

"Are you sticking around?" Church asked him.

"No."

"What are you going to do now?"

"None of your business." He paused, then relented. "There's a lot to do."

"What's to do? We lost. It's over."

The Bone Inspector snorted derisively. "I was right. You are a pathetic little runt." He was swaying backwards and forwards on his staff, obviously on the verge of collapse.

"What do you mean?" Ruth asked curiously. "Balor's back. You saw the sky. You could feel it. At least I could, here, in the pit of my belly, like vibrations from a drill going off just under my feet."

Church nodded. "I felt it too, only for me it was a queasy feeling as if I'd eaten something rotten."

"Everybody felt it, even the animals," the Bone Inspector snapped. "Something that big shakes the foundation of life." He gave a hacking cough. "Look around you," he continued with watering eyes. "Is it over? Has the world folded up and been put away? Are we dead and not realising it?" He dropped to his haunches, still holding the staff between his legs as if it were a rudder steering the world. "Never give up hope. That's the message of life."

Church noted how like Tom he sounded. He was surprised by how much he suddenly missed his old companion; he wanted the benefit of Tom's wisdom, and his incisive overview of any situation, however bad-tempered he always was.

"We could still do something," Church suggested hopefully.

"You, not me. Of course you can still do something. That's what you're here for. In England's darkest hour-"

"I know, I know, a hero shall arise."

"And if this isn't the darkest of all darkest hours, what is?"

Sighing, Church stared pensively into the fire. "I wonder how long we've got before he starts wiping everything out."

"He'll start straight away," the Bone Inspector said. "At least once he's recovered from getting dragged back into this God-forsaken world. He can't be in tip-top shape after being locked up on the other side of death for God knows how long. Then there's getting established in his new little nest," he sneered, and motivating his troops, listening to all their whiny little pleas after all that time they've been separated from him."

Church looked at him curiously.

"And of course he won't be at full strength till he's drained every last drop of power at the next festival, the big one on their calendar, when the gates really do open and all the worst nightmares in the universe come scurrying back to this place to be here for the end of it all." The Bone Inspector fixed a cold eye on Church, almost daring him to continue.

Church glanced at Ruth. "You're right, I have changed. Not so long ago I'd have rolled over and died at odds like that. But, you know-"

She nodded in agreement "-maybe there's a chance we can do something."

"Don't get me wrong," the Bone Inspector continued, "the End of Everything has started. But it's still gathering pace. Maybe you can jam a stick in the spokes, maybe not."

Church continued to look into Ruth's eyes and he was pleased at what he saw. "Of all of us, I certainly don't think we were the most deserving. Veitch, maybe, Shavi, they were better than us in many ways. But we've learned a lot from all we've been through and maybe this is our chance to put it to good use."

"Maybe we can finally prove our worth."

"Rather you than me," the Bone Inspector snorted; but Church glimpsed a faint smile before he wiped it away.

"This is our chance, then," Church said. "The last one. Rearguard action while the world's going to hell around us."

Ruth pulled her knees up under her chin. "It's amazing how brave you can feel when you've got nothing left to lose."

Church realised she was right; surprisingly, he didn't feel any fear, nor any of the worries nor indecision that had dogged him before. There was a clarity to his emotions that gave him hope. "What do we have to do?"

The Bone Inspector sucked in a weary breath of air. "Are you expecting me to do it all for you?"

"I'm expecting you to use some of that knowledge that's been sitting around in your head gathering dust," Church said sharply. "We might not have got in this mess if you'd told us more before."

"Don't get snippy with me. It's secret knowledge for a reason, you idiot. It's not there to be told to any little runt who comes asking-"

"Just give us some guidance," Ruth pleaded. "Where do we go from here? We've lost two-thirds of the people helping us-we don't know if they're alive or dead. We've got no idea what the next step is!"

The passion in her voice seemed to strike a chord with him. "It's a good job you're here. I wouldn't have told that little bastard anything." He pulled himself up on his staff and walked slowly to the twilight zone beyond the firelight; he appeared to be weighing up his responsibilities. "All right," he said eventually. "But don't go asking me for anything else. The only way you're going to get anywhere is with the sword, the spear, the cauldron and the stone."

"The Quadrillax," Ruth said. "But the Tuatha De Danann have them now."

"And they're not going to help us while I've got the Fomorii taint in my system," Church said despondently.

"Well you better do something about it, then, hadn't you?" the Bone Inspector said bluntly. "Remember, it was the spear that killed the Great Beast last time. The sword, the spear, the cauldron and the stone are the only things in the whole of existence with enough power to do him in."

Deep in thought, Church threw more wood on the fire so it roared away wildly. It seemed to him, at that moment, that the light was more important than anything and he had to do everything in his power to preserve it. "When we came across two members of the Tuatha De Danann one night a few weeks back, I asked them how I could clear the Fomorii corruption out of my system. They said I should travel to the Western Isles to find something called the Pool of Wishes."