Jack of Ravens(124)

Through a haze of pain and blood, Church was aware of the Seelie Court watching silently; he felt like a gladiator fighting before the emperor as entertainment.

Veitch drove Church into the pool of the fountain. Water rained down in sheets all around, obscuring the rest of the exhibition. Their blades met again, and the cascading energy raged all around them, turning every droplet into a miniature sun.

Veitch forced Church back, pressing his face so close that Church could see the gleam of his snarling teeth. ‘See – you’re too weak. I could gut you in a second.’

Church was determined not to let everyone down. He drilled down into his depleted reserves and took the fight to Veitch, driving him back by rapidly changing between techniques he had learned in the Iron Age, Roman Britain and in Tudor times. It made up for the relentless savagery of Veitch’s approach. He took his knocks, a cut here, a blow there, and came back just as hard. When he laid open Veitch’s forearm, he felt a glimmer of satisfaction that he had paid Veitch back for the licks he had taken in Rome.

Amidst the explosions of light, they tumbled out of the fountain and battled their way up one of the winding wrought-iron staircases. On the balcony overlooking the concourse, Church realised how much he missed the Pendragon Spirit as his energy levels flagged while Veitch fought on as powerfully as he had begun.

It would have been easier to give up, or to run and hide, but Church wanted to find within himself the person that everyone else recognised, but he had never seen: the hero, the king. He fought back again just as hard, but now he was taking cuts all over his upper body and his blood was running freely.

Finally, he slipped on his own blood splattered on the floor and crashed back against the railing. Veitch moved in quickly, determined to drive Church over the top and onto the hard stone far below.

‘Say goodbye,’ Veitch whispered.

But as he raised his blade for the final blow, a figure shot up behind Church. It landed on the railing and balanced perfectly. Blue Fire burst into Veitch’s eyes, blinding him.

Veitch staggered backwards, clutching at his face, and Church prised himself away from the railing. Spring-heeled Jack’s face was impassive. He balanced on the railing for one more second, and then he gave another enormous leap and was gone.

The intrusion was enough for Church to recover. He rebalanced himself and gripped his sword defensively as Veitch, cursing loudly, righted himself. But before he could attack once more, he cried out in pain. A small knife protruded from his back. Behind him, Tom quickly retreated, pale and frightened.

‘You bastards!’ Veitch raged, but the rest of his comments were drowned by the sound of breaking glass. Riding down the sheer face of the glass and steel wall were Etain, Tannis, Branwen and Owein. Church felt sick when he saw them, the feelings of what had been lost still as raw as when he had found their bodies in Carn Euny. Yet when he looked at their dead faces and saw their hate-filled eyes, he also felt scared, for he could see they were now capable of any atrocity.

The Brothers and Sisters of Spiders steered their demonic mounts onto the balcony and circled Veitch. Church backed away, knowing he did not have the strength to fight them.

They made no attempt to attack. Etain bent down to pull Veitch onto the back of her horse, where Church had once ridden not so long – or maybe an age – ago. Veitch’s face was strained with pain, but he still had the strength to point one finger at Church. That simple gesture contained all his hatred and bitterness and a promise that revenge would be swift and terrible.

And then they were away, rising eerily up the wall to disappear through the hole in the roof.

Church sagged to his knees, what little energy he had dissipated by the shattering battle.

Niamh ran up and put an arm around his shoulders, while Tom helped him to his feet. ‘Thank you,’ Church said to Tom. The Rhymer nodded curtly. Yet they could barely look at each other after Veitch’s statement that Niamh and Tom would give their own lives for Church’s cause in the future. The revelation was both heart-warming and a terrible burden; none of their relationships would ever be the same.



8



While a handful of police officers investigated the disturbance at the main doors, the king and queen of the Seelie Court whisked Church, Niamh and Tom out of the Crystal Palace – one moment they were standing on the main concourse and the next they were on the edge of Hyde Park. Church sensed that what the Seelie Court had witnessed had changed them in some way, though he could not define how.

Everything Veitch had said haunted him, reopening old wounds and adding to his confusion about his purpose. Was he really as corrupted as Veitch made out, and if so, could he make amends?