a distance: the glassy unblinking stare of the eyes, the pulleys and wheels, the swivellingmechanical joints, the great feet, rising and falling in the unstoppable mechanical rhythm, and held high above its glittering breastwork, an enormous spiked ball and chain. So ponderous were its footfalls that the white background shuddered with every tread.
Mo’s heart faltered as the white landscape turned to utter dark. For a moment she thought she was gazing into a vision of death. But then she saw a speck of trembling at the heart of it, like the faintest star in the first pallid sky of night.
‘Kate?’ She heard Alan gasp the name. ‘Kate – is it you?’
Mo wept openly as the speck grew closer. It was hard to believe this scratch in the dark was anything human, yet human it was, curled tight into a ball, the lank hair bedraggled and tangled, the flesh filthy and shrunken, the eyes tightly clenched, lost to a despair as total as the dark that enclosed her.
She heard Alan’s anguished roar:
‘Kate!’
Her fate is of the flesh alone. For eternity will your spirit be damned. Even now it is not too late. Yet still would I be merciful. I would save her, as well as you. All I ask is that you yield to me.
Mo heard Alan’s answering whisper, trembling, though not she sensed with fear but with utter loathing.
‘I’d rather we both died.’
Mo screamed: ‘Temple Ship – if you really are a friend, help him!’
Suddenly the shimmering gold circle in the TempleShip was invaded by a different darkness: the inky background of the night sky in which pinpoints of starlight flickered and changed, as if constantly remaking themselves. Mo recognised the matrix of Mark’s crystal, given to him by Granny Dew. She recalled a game she had played with Mark, a shared secret, when Grimstone had locked them in the cellar all night for punishment. In her mind she heard the rhyme:
Take you
Take me
Altogether make three
Who are we?
Mo whispered, softly: ‘The Lost Children!’
It was the Peter Pan game – the game they would escape into when their adoptive father had locked them away in the dark. In their imaginations they could travel anywhere they wanted, have the greatest adventures …
Only Mark and she knew the game. Mo stared, speechless, as the shimmering circle on the face of the Ship became a screen in which a hand was imprinted, as if pressing towards her from the other side.
Qwenqwo embraced her, then moved forward to place his hand against the impression in the shimmering circle.
‘Is it truly you, young Ironheart?’ he exclaimed.
Qwenqwo!
‘Then it is you!’
I’m here – but I’m not sure I’m real.
‘Be assured – you live.’
How do you know that?
‘I climbed to the top of the Rath of the Dark Queen. The Mage Lord and I, we both observed there was nobody at the summit.’
But what does that mean?
‘Your destiny you fulfilled, and more. You were subsumed, in the flesh and in the spirit, by the Third Power.’
If so – where am I?
‘If I judge it right, you have entered Dromenon.’
Instinctively Mo ran forward, to place her hand against the impression of that other welcoming hand. The sense of communication was instantaneous.
‘Mark –
Mark!
Is it really you?’
Mo – I can sense you!
Was it her imagination or did she feel Mark’s hand hold her own, the way he would comfort her when, after Grimstone or Bethel had locked her in the cellar, he would sneak down to keep her company in the dark.
‘You’re really here?’
I’m one with the Temple Ship.
‘I can’t bear to think of you so alone.’
I’m not alone. But I don’t have time for explanations. We’re going to have to do something to save Alan. You can’t stay here. You and Qwenqwo – you must leave the Ship.’
‘I won’t leave you. I won’t. Not now I’ve found you again.’
Mo – listen to me. It’s been so wonderful to be able to talk to you, and to Qwenqwo. But it’s too dangerous for you to stay. You
Mo’s heart faltered as the white landscape turned to utter dark. For a moment she thought she was gazing into a vision of death. But then she saw a speck of trembling at the heart of it, like the faintest star in the first pallid sky of night.
‘Kate?’ She heard Alan gasp the name. ‘Kate – is it you?’
Mo wept openly as the speck grew closer. It was hard to believe this scratch in the dark was anything human, yet human it was, curled tight into a ball, the lank hair bedraggled and tangled, the flesh filthy and shrunken, the eyes tightly clenched, lost to a despair as total as the dark that enclosed her.
She heard Alan’s anguished roar:
‘Kate!’
Her fate is of the flesh alone. For eternity will your spirit be damned. Even now it is not too late. Yet still would I be merciful. I would save her, as well as you. All I ask is that you yield to me.
Mo heard Alan’s answering whisper, trembling, though not she sensed with fear but with utter loathing.
‘I’d rather we both died.’
Mo screamed: ‘Temple Ship – if you really are a friend, help him!’
Suddenly the shimmering gold circle in the TempleShip was invaded by a different darkness: the inky background of the night sky in which pinpoints of starlight flickered and changed, as if constantly remaking themselves. Mo recognised the matrix of Mark’s crystal, given to him by Granny Dew. She recalled a game she had played with Mark, a shared secret, when Grimstone had locked them in the cellar all night for punishment. In her mind she heard the rhyme:
Take you
Take me
Altogether make three
Who are we?
Mo whispered, softly: ‘The Lost Children!’
It was the Peter Pan game – the game they would escape into when their adoptive father had locked them away in the dark. In their imaginations they could travel anywhere they wanted, have the greatest adventures …
Only Mark and she knew the game. Mo stared, speechless, as the shimmering circle on the face of the Ship became a screen in which a hand was imprinted, as if pressing towards her from the other side.
Qwenqwo embraced her, then moved forward to place his hand against the impression in the shimmering circle.
‘Is it truly you, young Ironheart?’ he exclaimed.
Qwenqwo!
‘Then it is you!’
I’m here – but I’m not sure I’m real.
‘Be assured – you live.’
How do you know that?
‘I climbed to the top of the Rath of the Dark Queen. The Mage Lord and I, we both observed there was nobody at the summit.’
But what does that mean?
‘Your destiny you fulfilled, and more. You were subsumed, in the flesh and in the spirit, by the Third Power.’
If so – where am I?
‘If I judge it right, you have entered Dromenon.’
Instinctively Mo ran forward, to place her hand against the impression of that other welcoming hand. The sense of communication was instantaneous.
‘Mark –
Mark!
Is it really you?’
Mo – I can sense you!
Was it her imagination or did she feel Mark’s hand hold her own, the way he would comfort her when, after Grimstone or Bethel had locked her in the cellar, he would sneak down to keep her company in the dark.
‘You’re really here?’
I’m one with the Temple Ship.
‘I can’t bear to think of you so alone.’
I’m not alone. But I don’t have time for explanations. We’re going to have to do something to save Alan. You can’t stay here. You and Qwenqwo – you must leave the Ship.’
‘I won’t leave you. I won’t. Not now I’ve found you again.’
Mo – listen to me. It’s been so wonderful to be able to talk to you, and to Qwenqwo. But it’s too dangerous for you to stay. You
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