‘You must enter alone. We will not follow.’ Branwen rubbed her hands together feverishly.
‘I can’t do it on my own.’ A rush of nausea from the poison swept through him. ‘All right, just help me push the door open. I’ll go in alone.’ The look of fear in their faces made him feel guilty; he had forgotten that for all their emotional and intellectual sophistication, they were still the product of superstitious times.
Conoran pointed one slender finger at Church. ‘If they open the door they must enter.’
‘You know more than you’re saying.’ The poison and disorientation made Church snap with irritation.
Conoran’s eyes glowed with a cold light that made Church regret his tone.
‘You haven’t come this far just for me,’ he said to the others. The delirium was growing worse again. ‘You’ve done it for your people. You think I can help defend them against the gods, and you may be right. But if you walk away now, I won’t be able to do anything because I’ll be dead. And what will happen then if the gods return?’ Church felt a twinge at the shameless emotional manipulation, but he could see in their eyes that it was working.
‘Your family and friends need you. Your tribe needs you,’ he continued. ‘I know you’re scared of what lies ahead, but I’ll stand with you. You’ve seen me fight. You know what I can do with this.’ He touched the sword, which sang quietly in response. ‘Together we can survive this. Didn’t I help you escape the Redcaps?’ He ran out of steam as poison-pain burned his heart, but he could see he had done enough. Conoran was smiling.
Tannis stepped forward and pressed his right hand into a snugly fitting hollow. ‘I stand with you, Jack, Giantkiller.’ He smiled warmly, all trace of fear expunged now that he had made his choice.
‘And I.’ Etain’s smile was shy, but her eyes blazed when she looked at Church.
Owein followed suit, and then finally – reluctantly – Branwen. All of their hands fitted perfectly into one or other of the hollows.
‘Almost as if it was meant to be,’ Conoran said wryly.
A short period of anticipation gave way to a crackle of blue sparks as the door swung open.
‘I await your return,’ Conoran said.
Church braced himself, then crossed the threshold.
What had appeared to be simply entering another room felt like moving to a different place entirely. The clammy underground air was replaced by a balmy summer warmth. Sand crunched beneath Church’s feet and a night sky dappled with unfamiliar constellations hung overhead. Gradually, he became accustomed to his surroundings. A hot breeze brought with it the scent of steaming vegetation. Ahead he could see palm trees silhouetted against the sky: an oasis; a garden.
‘Where are we?’ Etain whispered in awe.
‘The desert, I think,’ Church said.
A blue light amongst the trees pulled them towards it. The others drew their weapons with trepidation.
Church pushed through spiky-leaved bushes until he arrived at a lake. But instead of water it was filled with Blue Fire moving as though it were a liquid. A dark shape swam sinuously in its depths, but Church’s attention was drawn to a woman who stood in the centre of the lake, seemingly on the very surface of the flaming energy. Her skin was pale, her hair black, her eyes as blue as the fire.
‘Greetings, Quincunx.’ Church flinched; though the woman’s lips had moved, the voice was deep like a man’s, perhaps not quite human. ‘The first of many,’ she continued with a smile.
The surface behind her broke and a head rose on a long serpentine neck. It had scales and tines and horns and a form that reminded Church of pictures in books he had read as a child. Fire licked around its open mouth, and beneath the surface leathern wings were just visible amongst the coils of its body. Yet the strangest thing was that the creature appeared to be made of the Blue Fire itself. Now and then, Church glimpsed its vascular system beneath the flickering sapphire skin.
Behind Church, the others cowered. ‘Strike it now,’ Branwen hissed, ‘before it slays us with its breath.’
‘Do not be afraid,’ the woman said, and it seemed to Church that the beast was somehow speaking through her. ‘I am here to give you knowledge and purpose.’
‘Can you cure me?’ Church asked.
The woman and the beast jointly turned their attention to him. ‘You are filled with the black poison of the Devourer of All Things. Your time is nearly done.’ A pause, then: ‘Step forward.’
Church obeyed. Etain and Tannis leaped forward to prevent Church from burning himself in the flames, but he was surprised to find the Blue Fire cool. Euphoria rushed through him, and he could feel the poison being scoured from his system.