Read The Sword of Feimhin Online
Authors: Frank P. Ryan
âWhat should we do?'
âGrimstone didn't come here by road. There has to be an underground link to here â somewhere that allowed his entrance into the oval. It's got to be a Tube line, maybe one reserved for his private use. If we could only find it while Grimstone is still talking.'
âThat would be dangerous, with the security everywhere.'
âYeah, but it's mainly aimed at controlling the gates.'
âAnd looking after Grimstone himself.'
Mark nodded, thoughtful for a moment. âBut not at controlling the congregation, especially now that Grimstone is getting into his stride. I think we should have a nose around underground.'
Grimstone intoned, âBlessed are they who thirst for righteousness.'
His flock replied, âFor they shall be satisfied.'
âYes, indeed â they shall be satisfied. My brothers and sisters â my beloved brethren â you and me, we will be satisfied.'
âWhen?' the congregation cried.
âSoon â I make this solemn promise.'
âAmen.'
Mark and Nan whispered their intention to Jo and
Sharkey, suggesting they meet them and the others later on at the place where they had stowed the bikes. Then they slipped out of their seats, taking advantage of a renewed wave of rapture. They made their way back along a radial aisle to the enclosing wall around the arena. Two stewards looked over at them. Quickly, Mark pretended to support Nan while she slumped back against the wall. Lifting a placatory hand he signalled that she had fainted and began fanning Nan's face with his hymn book.
The stewards looked back towards the podium.
âWhat now?' she whispered.
Mark continued to fan her face. Over at the edge of the crowd, the mother who had heckled Grimstone was still weeping as two muscular young men in neat suits ushered her forcefully through twin doors not more than thirty yards from them. Where earlier he had thought her cry some contrived interruption, now he was no longer sure.
âI'd like to know where they're taking her.'
In the central arena Grimstone was walking along the columns of elders, touching their brows with the twisted cross. Taking advantage of the new wave of excitement, Mark led Nan along the radial wall to the twin doors. When they tested them, they discovered that they were unlocked.
Mark could see no guards in the gloomy corridor within, just some surprised disciples. But there was something else; a palpable sense of threat that caused Nan to clutch at his forearm as they used their oracula to stun the few disciples they encountered into unconsciousness. The tunnel led to
a very ordinary looking lift marked âSTAFF' and an adjoining staircase. They followed the winding stairs down two floors to emerge onto a private underground railway platform. Mark and Nan hung back within the doorway, gazing out at a two-coach Tube train, pristinely white, that stood next to the platform. It bore no markings or designations, but Mark could not see any other vehicle that would have brought Grimstone and his inner coterie to the arena. The big question was: where did it lead?
Peering around the opening, Mark saw that the train was guarded by a small army of paramilitaries, who stood rigidly to attention at the front and along both sides of the carriages. A strange blue light permeated the walls and the air of the tunnel. The sense of threat was overwhelming.
Mark was stunned to find Grimstone's voice sounding from behind him.
âDid you hope to discover something to your advantage?'
He spun around to discover his adoptive father just twenty feet away. The sense of shock and of evil at having Grimstone suddenly so close caused Mark's heart to quail. Even now that he was grown into a man and armed with the oraculum of the Third Power, Mark felt an overwhelming nausea. He threw a protective arm around Nan's shoulders.
Grimstone sneered at his reaction. He was standing next to a smiling woman â the mother who had been creating a fuss about her son. Mark understood now why there had been no guards in the tunnel at the top of the stairs. It had all been a trick to draw him in.
âI gathered that you were back in this world â my useless son and his black-haired bed warmer. Knowing your arrogance, it was altogether predictable that you would come here to confront me.'
This close, Grimstone looked a decade older than the man Mark recalled. But the glare of hatred in those blue beacons of eyes was all too familiar, as were the powerful muscles concealed under the pastor's clothes. But something had changed. There was a new power about him, a menace that had no fear of Mark's and Nan's oracula. Mark noticed the glowing symbol of the triple infinity that was embedded in the centre of Grimstone's brow.
Embedded!
That was new. It resembled a sinister oraculum of Grimstone's own â an exceedingly powerful one.
From above, though faintly, Mark could still hear the choir singing. The ceremony above was continuing. Grimstone must have left his deacon in charge and made some excuse for an interval.
âI see that you have noticed I don't need the cross any more to communicate with my beloved master. I am one with him at all times.'
Mark's oraculum flared, and he sensed Nan's do the same. âI'm not a child that you can hurt or bully any more.'
âNo â you're an ingrate, with ideas above his station.'
Instinctively Mark put his left hand above his right shoulder. But of course the Fir Bolg battleaxe wasn't there. âI warn you. Don't even consider hurting me or Nan.'
âYou think you can threaten me? This is no game we're playing. You imagine your scheming will undermine my
work? You think your little bauble will defeat the will of my lord and master?'
âI know you have Padraig. You need him to understand the Sword.'
Grimstone laughed. âI could deal with you now, effortlessly, but that would be too easy. It's not a fitting punishment for your disloyalty.'
âWhat are you planning? What are you doing in London?'
Grimstone's voice oozed with triumph. âOh, I think you, being so smart, must have worked that out for yourself.'
Mark stared at his hated adoptive father, his eyes bright.
Nan tugged at his arm.
âI think you should pay heed to your trollop. You should take the opportunity and run.' Grimstone's voice rose to a roar. âRun! Like the scared rabbits you are.'
Mark was about to turn his oraculum on Grimstone when Nan whispered to him through her oraculum,
The choir above was coming to a climax, their voices sweet; the harmony of angels. Grimstone's laughter followed them up the stairs.
âI sensed no human in him any more, Nan. What the hell is he â what has Grimstone become?'
âA Legun incarnate.'
Before Kate's startled eyes, even as they tumbled headlong through the abyss, Kate saw the succubus attempt to detach herself from the vulture. She was demanding a separate existence, a will of her own. The ravaged face drew close to Kate's and she whispered urgently, âThere is great danger here,' Kate heard the whisper like she would a swirl of wind.
She summoned her courage to face a major new uncertainty: âI must know â are you Elaru or Urale â or both?'
âOh, Mistress â I truly am Elaru, your humble and devoted servant â I most sincerely assure you.'
âHow can I be sure that you could possibly become independent of him?'
âHe's a god, however mean and cruel. Through slight of cunning he created me. But once created, I do have some rudiments of free will.'
The vulture god chuckled: âAnd if you believe that, dearie â¦'
âFor goodness sake, Elaru. What am I to think? I suppose I have no option other than to trust you.'
Trust you perhaps one quarter of an inch
, she thought.
Granny Dew's voice inside her head was now whispering to her.
âWhat do you mean?'
âThe Tree of Life?'
Kate considered this. âI'm right, am I not? Whatever is happening here, in this part of Dromenon, in the roots of the Tree of Life â it's all somehow linked to the Tyrant's plotting? I really can help Alan if I can weaken the Tyrant's purpose here.'
In the short time that Kate's attention had been distracted from the succubus, Elaru had paled until she became little more than a wispy outline. All three of them were spinning and spiralling in their never-ending descent.
âMistress, heed! I may become subsumed again.'
Kate thought,
No! Granny Dew has cautioned me. Nothing
here is as it seems
. She said, âI'm sorry, Elaru. I think I understand now. I must keep your existence constantly in mind.'
âDo not be sorry, sweet Mistress, you treated me as a friend. When I was created to ⦠intended to â¦'
Kate issued the command, with all of her might, through the oraculum:
The headlong descent halted immediately.
The vulture cackled a laugh, lifted one leg high into the air, then scratched at its beak with a fearsome-looking talon. âBravo! I thought myself incapable of surprise. Yet here we still are. And you are allowing yourself to be taken in by an exceedingly stupid, if tiresome, creation of mine. You can't win, you know.'
âI'm tired of your tricks.'
âBy all means, discharge me of my services to you, dearie. But consider then that you will be obliged to solve the mysteries of the labyrinth alone.'
âElaru stays.'
âIf I go, she goes.'
âElaru â is he right?'
âMy existence is dependent, yes.'
âYou mean, he could erase you â your existence â because he gave rise to it in the first place?'
âAlas â I suspect so.'
âThat's hideous.'
âIf erasure is my fate, so be it. At least you would retain me as a memory of friendship, Mistress.'
Urale preened. âOh, how delightful â I have sprung an offspring with the winning wiles of a minor seductress.'
âYou might yet save me, Mistress.'
âHow?'
âThe power of a goddess illuminates your brow. Take what is left of me. Let me be one with you rather than my creator. Do it quickly, if you are of a mind to. There is very little time left.'
Up in the Momu's chamber, within the cage of roots in which myriad tiny forms slithered, Kate's eyes opened wide with shock. The idea of subsuming Elaru intrigued her. Immediately, she focused her whole being on the act of subsuming Elaru. Even if she had the power to do this, which was far from certain, she had no idea what to expect if she were to succeed. Were succubi real people â or at least real life forms? Would such a subsummation change her?
âOh!' Kate felt the ghost of a life enter her, like an ethereal expansion within her mind, within her spirit.
She felt a curious flush of warmth spread throughout her being.
Kate had no idea what had just happened, or how it had happened; oracula had powers beyond logic. But had she done the right thing? There was so much she failed to understand.
I was no longer really human anyway
, she thought.
Did it matter? Was her humanity so important?
Kate was more confused than ever.
Who were they? Were the Yoolf still playing their tricks on her?
She must stay focused. She must hunt down the serpent-dragon in the maze of roots under the Tree of Life. It was only natural that Elaru would want Kate to take her with her; she wanted to escape from the Land of the Dead.
Kate didn't know if the succubus possessed any really helpful knowledge, but if she had spent as long as she said in Dromenon, it was likely that she did. âYou must give me a hint, a clue, as to what I must do.'
What in heaven's name �
Kate reached out through her oraculum and filled her senses with the purest, primary shade of blue, the blue of the sky in the sunniest day of summer. She willed herself to dissolve into that sky, to become one with that soothing shade. A feeling of tranquillity suffused her being. Shades appeared in swirling movements, then came the shimmering arrival of other primary colours and a fusion of colour with colour, expanding the glorious creativity so that she was witnessing the primordial beginning of a creation. But what could it mean? How could it possibly help her in her search for Nidhoggr?
She began to understand â not rationally but through intuition.
âWell, if you're right, the colour blue must represent something important. And this mystery has something to
do with the roots of the Tree. But that's a puzzle in itself, because if I am correct we are still in Dromenon. The Land of the Dead is certainly not on TÃr, or Earth, and that means the roots of the Tree must also exist in Dromenon. But what could possibly feed it here?'
Elaru sounded equally excited.
Kate had never considered colour as a source of creation before. But she recalled Uncle Fergal explaining how insects saw colours differently from people. He had shown her beautiful pictures of flowers, both how people saw them and how insects saw them, and it had been a revelation. Insects were guided by colour to fulfil an all-consuming instinct â in human terms a passion â to find the nectar. Yet, in doing so, nature determined that they also pollinated the flowers. The passion of the insect was driven by a pure colour. Kate deliberately imagined that she was placing windows of clear blue in front of her eyes, then looked through them into the surrounding Dromenon.
She glimpsed something fleeting, but the picture faded almost immediately.
âMy oraculum sees better than I do.' Using her oraculum, Kate Shaunessy looked once more through the imagined windows of purest blue, opening her mind onto a wonderland.
The roots of the Tree of Life were not made out of wood. They were constantly being reborn of swirling clouds of â¦
of matter. She could think of no better way to describe what she was seeing. They were clouds of
being
, within which matter, the essence of substance, twinkled in and out of reality. The roots extended to infinity amid the galaxies, nebulae, stars.
Kate recalled what she had seen when the demigod Fangorath attacked the Third Portal of the Fáil. He had shown this same twinkling essence of being. She held onto that mind-blowing thought:
The universe also constantly twinkles in and out of being in Dromenon
.
âOh, my goodness.' Kate looked around in wonder.
She heard the growl of outrage that was Urale. âBetrayed! I am betrayed by my insubordinate self. I am doomed â the Master will punish me.'
She ignored the hysterics to recall the advice of the dragon, Driftwood.
â
Remember what you saw in my dreams
.'
She hadn't understood him at the time. But now she remembered entering the soul-spirit of the dragon when she had used her power to restore his wings. Through the reawakening of his memories she had experienced what it was to soar through air and ocean on dragon's wings. She had felt the enormous heart of the dragon contract within her own chest and the golden blood pulsing through her arteries and veins. Within the exquisite joy of communion, she had felt her soul drift further to a time before people, a time of beginnings ⦠a time that belonged to beings resembling angels: ethereal creatures
that existed in perfect harmony with nature, devoid of ordinary mortal needs.
The Arinn
.
She recalled the ecstasy that had filled her being.
What she was still gazing on within the prisms of blue windows took her breath away. âIt's beyond anything that could be described as beautiful. Oh, Elaru â this has to be something to do with the Arinn. It's what sustains the roots of the Tree of Life and the serpent-dragon, Nidhoggr. It's something to do with the Fáil.'
âPah â you may search until the ends of time, dearie. You will discover no logical answers here.'
The vulture croak rose to a scream. âI will kill her, rend her, pick at her bones â she who, through her imbecility, subverts my every scheme.'
Kate ignored Urale's tantrums. She was so thrilled that she had been privileged enough to glimpse the working of the Fáil: the way of light, which was inextricably linked with its opposite, the way of darkness. The shrieking of Urale was enough to warn her that her situation had grown more dangerous. Was Elaru telling her something important and new? Desperately, Kate asked herself:
how can I
possibly look through a window that is the very absence of colour?
Again and again she was confronting beings, entities, concepts that went beyond her simple human logic to understand.
Still, she would have to make herself understand.
She poured every last ounce of concentration through her oraculum, melting away the blue, all colour, until she was looking into Dromenon as through a glass darkly.
She perceived.
âOh, my God!'
Against the renewed wrath of Urale screaming with fury she saw the explanation for everything, the decline of Ulla Quemar, the dying of the Momu and the rotting of the One Tree â¦