‘Both.’ She sat next to him with her tarot cards and began to lay them out in her favourite divinatory spread. ‘Because they were capable of great things even with my people’s interference.’
Church took in the scope of the stones. Some were up to twelve feet high, pitched in circles and straight lines, patterns that looked incomprehensible to the untutored eye.
‘They knew the places in the earth where the Blue Fire was strongest and they recognised its true nature.’ Niamh concentrated on the cards. ‘They built their monuments to mark nodes of power, and they worshipped there, too, for life and Existence was their purpose.’
Church noted the cemetery of the Vestini amongst the stones: death and life and spiritual strength joined together in one image.
‘They knew these places were a gateway to your home?’ he asked.
‘They did, and to all the lands beyond.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t find your brother.’
‘There is still time. For my kind, there is always time.’
‘And I want to thank you for coming to rescue me. I suppose it was just a matter of keeping your possessions safe, but thanks anyway.’
Niamh turned the cards, said nothing.
‘I was working under the assumption that only you Golden Ones gave gods to the Celts, but then I met Janus. Is he one of you? Are you responsible for all Earth’s gods?’
Niamh wrestled with her response. ‘My people believe what they want to believe. That is their way, a natural response to being so close to the heart of Existence.’
‘Arrogance—’
They believe they cannot die. They believe nothing in all of Existence can threaten them, because that is how things have always been. And if they receive information that contradicts that stance, they ignore it.’
Church was puzzled. There was an edge to Niamh’s voice as she fought with the changes taking place within her.
‘They believe they are unique,’ she continued.
‘But they’re not?’
‘We know other races existed in the Far Lands before we arrived from our long-lost home. We have seen their ruined cities on the mountaintops and beneath the waves, and we have heard tell of their names: the Drakusa, the Hyanthis …’ She shrugged. ‘Many races exist in the Far Lands, and the Far Lands stretch for ever. Who knows what lives there? Though …’ She hesitated. ‘There are rumours of other races related to us living in further corners of the land, but it is not something my people wish to consider.’
A shooting star blazed across the sky. Church and Niamh watched it together. She picked a handful of dry grass and released it into the wind. ‘There is much I wish to learn. Things I must see for myself.’ A shadow crossed her face as she wrestled with the fading of lifelong certainties. She looked over at the campfire where Decebalus and the others were finishing their evening meal.
‘Fragile Creatures … your lives always hang by a thread,’ she mused, ‘yet they risked everything to rescue you. They see beyond themselves in a way my people never do. They recognise in you a deep seam of goodness that will be mined for the benefit of all Fragile Creatures.’ Niamh gave Church a quick sideways glance, but would not meet his gaze. ‘I would know what drives you.’ A pause. ‘All of you.’
Church finished his drink and levered himself shakily to his feet. ‘Come on. Let’s join them.’
‘You look well,’ Decebalus noted as Church approached. ‘Aula has some uses, then.’
‘Be still, ox-brain.’ The blonde woman sighed. She lay next to the fire, staring at the stars.
‘Tomorrow morning when Niamh, Jerzy and I cross over to the Otherworld at the standing stones I want you all to come with us,’ Church said.
‘To T’ir n’a n’Og?’ Decebalus said in astonishment.
‘It’s not safe for you here. Veitch and his little spider-gang won’t rest until they’ve hunted you down and killed you. Especially now that you’ve freed me.’
‘There is nothing for me here,’ Lucia said. ‘I welcome new horizons.’
‘We can return?’ Aula asked. ‘Occasionally, to see our homeland?’
‘The Pendragon Spirit will allow you to transcend the barrier with impunity, as can anyone you bring in your wake,’ Niamh said.
A broad grin crossed Decebalus’s face. ‘Goddesses. The wine of the gods. New adventures. I say yes!’
Church noticed a pale will-o’-the-wisp floating in the dark further down the hillside and realised it was Jerzy making his way back from exploring the stones.
‘That was quite a performance you put on in Rome,’ Church said as he met him halfway.