Jack of Ravens(191)

‘We can—’

‘No, we can’t!’ he raged. ‘You don’t get it, do you? Things always work out for you. Born to be the king. The worst thing is to start out with misery, get shown a bit of hope and then have it taken away. If you lived in misery all your life you wouldn’t know any difference. Having that bit of hope makes all the bad stuff a hundred times worse. A thousand. I wish I’d never known you. I wish I’d never been a Brother of Dragons, just so I wouldn’t have to keep thinking how things might have been.’

He gripped his sword with two hands and raised it. In the glare from the black flames, his face took on a monstrous cast.

‘That’s why I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to kill that.’ He jabbed the sword towards the Fabulous Beast. And then I’m going to make sure there’s no more Blue Fire, and no more hope, so nobody has to go through what I’ve been through.’

Church backed up until he was ankle-deep in the Blue Fire, and felt it call out to his own Pendragon Spirit. He held up the piece of broken railing and thought how pathetic it looked.

As Veitch brought his sword closer to the pool of earth energy, it began to emit a sound like static that set Church’s teeth on edge. The unrestrained hatred in Veitch’s face was almost too much for Church to bear.

Behind him, the Fabulous Beast still slept. Church prepared to fight, knowing his likely options were die now or die later.

He turned and placed his hands on the Fabulous Beast. Its scales were hard and cool like gems beneath his fingers. His consciousness flowed through him and into the Beast as it had done in Vietnam, and once again he had the bizarre sensation of being in two places at once: in his own body and in the creature’s head.

The Fabulous Beast opened its eyes, and he had the even more disorienting sensation of watching himself. Veitch was behind him, sword raised to deliver the killing blow.

The creature reared up to the roof of the cavern in one fluid motion. Its uncoiling form propelled Church backwards and knocked Veitch offbalance. It released a burst of liquid fire along the roof of the cavern that illuminated another tunnel at the far end. The furnace heat of it seared Church’s lungs and almost drove him unconscious.

For one instant, he looked into its glittering eye and saw the untamed power there. After a long recuperation from its agony in Vietnam, it was now ready to return. With serpentine grace, it glided across the pool of Blue Fire and disappeared into the tunnel at speed.

Church staggered to his feet, still reeling from the fiery blast. Veitch was already up, silent and intense.

‘You can kill me now,’ Church said, ‘but now the Beast is out our side will have a chance.’

‘Aren’t you the big hero winning the day,’ Veitch sneered.

He stepped forward. Church ducked the first blow, using the piece of railing to deflect the sword, but being careful to ensure it didn’t take the full force that would shear through it in an instant. They performed a vicious ballet across the pool of Blue Fire. Veitch grew more furious with each passing second, forgetting his expertise, hacking and slashing almost randomly. Church was filled with grace and power. He could almost anticipate Veitch’s attacks, slipping away at the last second. He wielded the railing like a sword, ripping open Veitch’s cheek, tearing open his shirt, raising blood in a hundred places. Veitch’s eyes blazed; Church was convinced his opponent’s rage eliminated any pain.

As Veitch increased the ferocity of his attacks, Church grew calmer; he felt at peace in the centre of a storm. He sidestepped a vicious thrust, and then rammed the railing between Veitch’s calves, using his weight to pitch Veitch to the ground. As Veitch sprawled in the Blue Fire, Church brought one jagged end of the railing to Veitch’s throat.

‘It’s over,’ Church said.

‘You know it’s not,’ Veitch said. It’s not over till one of us is dead. You know that.’

‘It doesn’t have to be that way.’

Yes, it does.’

Their gazes locked. In Veitch’s eyes, Church saw a deep sadness hiding behind the anger. For a moment, everything hung. All Church had to do was put his weight on the railing and Veitch would be gone.

As he continued to search Veitch’s face, he caught a flicker: slyness. Veitch’s eyes glanced to one side. Church followed his gaze; only the tunnel entrance lay that way.

With a rapid movement, Veitch knocked the railing out of Church’s hand and jumped to his feet. His sword came up. Church had no defence.

At the last, Veitch hesitated. A dark smile crept across his face.

‘What are you doing, Veitch?’