Druids Sword (18 page)

They
could never have harmed Catling.

But Jack was something different. Different enough to give Catling considerable pause. Different enough to reduce her to childish threats.

Catling was willing to admit to herself that it had been a mistake, perhaps, to leave Noah and Jack alone for so many centuries. They had become so powerful. As just Mistress and Kingman they would have been so much more manageable…but, oh, as just Mistress and Kingman, without any of the powers of the land they now brought with them, Catling herself would have been so much lesser. It’s just that Catling had never thought they’d develop so greatly on their own. Well, it was too late now. Catling would just need to ensure she stayed one step ahead of Jack and Noah.

She was glad to have discovered Jack’s strength so early. It might have been disastrous if the first she knew of it was on the day he thought to try to destroy her.

Despite her extravagant threats to Jack, Catling wasn’t entirely sure she
was
totally invulnerable. After all, she still hadn’t been completed, and total invulnerability would only come after that event. It was better not to underestimate Jack. Catling liked to anticipate possible attacks and challenges—that was why she had tied Grace by hex once Catling realised Noah would move against her. Even as Mistress, Darkwitch and goddess combined, Noah may not have been able to destroy her, but Catling just liked to make sure.

It would be best to make sure now, too.

Finally Catling moved, just slightly. A tongue, running briefly about her upper lip. Eyes, cast upwards, as if she could see through all the layers of earth and rubble and stone and marble to the sky overhead.

It was coming. War. Pain. Horror. Destruction raining down on London. Everything Catling could ever have wanted, because she could feed from the devastation, grow strong on the pain and the horror,
gobble and wax fat on the terror. Grow robust enough to thwart whatever means Jack and Noah used to attack her.

But the horror wasn’t here
yet.
Oh, the war had started, and the horror was on its way. But it wasn’t here yet.

Catling hoped Jack wasn’t in any hurry to either attack her, or complete her, because Catling needed all the strength she could muster in order to outwit him.

N
oah jumped, then looked at Stella and Harry sitting on the leather chesterfield. “The car. He’s here.”

Harry and Stella shared a glance, then Harry sighed, and stood up. “I’ll let him in.”

“Stella,” Noah said, “do you know what has happened?” Noah knew Jack’s final marking had been planned for last night, and she had not been surprised when the Lord of the Faerie had sent her a summons a couple of hours previously to meet with him and Jack at Faerie Hill at dawn.

Noah had been so tense about Jack’s marking she had spent the night wandering the Faerie with Eaving’s Sisters. Now she wondered if that had been a good idea. Obviously something
else
had happened.

Perhaps she should have attended the marking.

“I have no idea,” said Stella. “Only a half hour ago Harry asked me to meet him here.” She glanced at her watch. “There’s only an hour and a half until sunrise. I can’t stay long.”

Noah looked over to the chesterfield sofa, where Silvius was now also sitting, having arrived a few minutes previously. If Jack had asked both his father and Stella to come…then something
must
be wrong.

“Silvius?” Noah said. “Do you have any idea?”

Silvius shook his head. “I just received the summons. I came. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Perhaps I should ring home,” Noah said, looking at the telephone. “See if Weyland and Grace are—”

“Noah, calm down,” Silvius said. “I am certain if there was an impending disaster Jack would have let us know.”

“And maybe that’s why we’re here now,” Noah said, her voice edgy.

At that moment Jack walked into the room, Harry close behind.

Noah sprang to her feet. “Jack?”

Jack nodded, including everyone in that greeting, then looked to Harry. “Thank you for getting everyone here. Well, almost. Where is—”

“I don’t know,” said Harry. “She should be here.”

“Ariadne was delayed slightly,” said Silvius. “She will be here shortly.”

Noah’s and Stella’s eyes widened at Ariadne’s name, and Jack frowned slightly at his father. He wondered how it was Silvius knew of Ariadne’s invitation, let alone the fact she was delayed.

Silvius held his son’s look, a bland expression on his face, and Jack sighed. His father wasn’t about to offer up any information on the issue, and, considering the gravity of what Jack had to relate, how Silvius knew of Ariadne’s movements wasn’t of the greatest importance right now.

“It has been a long night,” Jack said, “both good and bad. Did Harry tell you where I’d gone from Ambersbury Banks?”

“No,” said Noah. “But the marking…it went well?”

Jack gave her a smile. “It went well, Noah.” He hesitated, wondering if he should tell her about Grace, and then wondered why she didn’t already know. Hadn’t she missed her daughter at home?

“There is something I need to tell you,” Jack said, “and we don’t have much time before Stella needs to carol in the dawn.” That last was more a question than a statement, and he raised his eyebrows at Stella as he said it.

She gave a nod. “I have a little under an hour and a half, Jack.”

“Very well.” Jack walked over to the cold fireplace, and stood there for a minute or two, looking into the empty grate, his hands deep into his trouser pockets. “I went from Ambersbury Banks to St Paul’s,” he said finally, turning about, “to see Catling.”

“And?” said Noah.

Jack’s mouth quirked. “It was the first time I had ever seen her. My ‘daughter’.”

“She is no real daughter, Jack,” Noah said. “She was only ever a trickery.”

Jack remembered when he and Noah had made love in the magical re-creation of her father’s megaron. Noah had fallen pregnant, and for a time she and Louis, as Jack had been then, thought her child a re-creation of the daughter they had made three thousand years earlier, and who had been murdered by Genvissa.

But she wasn’t. In reality, Catling had been the Troy Game incarnate, turned to flesh to more expertly manipulate all those caught up in the Game’s machinations.

Jack held Noah’s eyes. “Yes,” he said softly, “she actually is my daughter. But not yours, Noah.” His gaze shifted to Stella. “She is yours and mine, Stella. The daughter we made that night we created the Troy Game atop Og’s Hill, when you were Genvissa.”

A complete silence met this pronouncement. Everyone stared at Jack, their minds racing. Remembering.

“No…” Stella whispered.

“That is what Catling had to tell me tonight,” Jack said, his voice suddenly weary. “She said that there was no means by which she could be destroyed, as I was both her father and her creator. She said that she had meant to become incarnate when first we’d made the Game, Stella, when I was Brutus and you Genvissa. We’d gone back to the palace on the White Mound, drunk with power and ambition, and we’d coupled, and, fools that we were, we had no bloody idea that what we’d done was to conceive the Troy Game incarnate.”

“But…” Noah said. She’d gone to Stella, who was so white she looked as if she were about to faint, and had an arm about her waist.

“Ah, yes, that ‘but’,” said Jack. “All of Catling’s initial plans were ruined when Asterion persuaded you, through Mag, to murder Genvissa when she was only weeks away from giving birth. Imagine Catling’s frustration.” He paused, using the time to catch Noah’s gaze. “And think of how much she must have hated
you,
Noah, for frustrating her plans. She chose you to become her Mistress of the Labyrinth not only because she could see how powerful you would become, but in revenge. In hatred.”

Noah had now gone as white as Stella, and she did not reply.

“Not only did she use your body to subsequently achieve flesh,” said Jack, “but you were going to be the one to complete her. A final punishment.”

“Stop for a moment,” said Harry. He’d been standing listening to the conversation, growing more incredulous, and more terrified, with each moment that passed. “Jack, we can get back to you and Stella’s ill-fated conception in a moment, but what I want to know is…
why
did Catling say you could not destroy her?”

“Because Jack is both her father and creator,” Silvius said. He’d been listening quietly, his eyes on Jack, his face reflecting the horror of everyone else. “I don’t know the intricacies of it, but I am guessing that the double role in ‘creating’, whether Game or flesh, might tie Jack’s hands somewhat. Who knows? It might be possible.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped. “Yes. It might be possible. I just don’t know.”

Harry strode the distance between them and grabbed at the material of Jack’s jacket. The lines on his careworn face had deepened until Harry looked as ancient as the forest itself. “What do you mean—
you don’t know?
” he hissed.

“He doesn’t know,” said a woman’s voice, “because in all the history of the labyrinth, we’ve never had a Game achieve flesh. We have no precedent to work from.”

Harry let Jack go and, with everyone else, looked at the doorway.

A beautiful, dark-haired woman stood there, dressed in a superbly cut scarlet suit, her feet clad in black leather high heels, and a black leather purse tucked under one arm. Her hair was fashionably waved and set, and her make-up was impeccable.

Ariadne.

“Nice to meet you, finally, Jack,” she said, advancing into the room and giving Jack a peck on the cheek. Then she gave Noah and Stella each a kiss, took a step towards Harry, thought better of it, and sat down next to Silvius on the chesterfield, crossing her lovely legs. She and Silvius glanced at each other, but otherwise did not exchange greetings, which Jack marked as highly suspicious.

“Catling is a clever, cunning little minx,” said Ariadne, “and from what I heard as I stood in the doorway I think I can say that she’s had this planned
for a very, very long time. Perhaps everyone
is
trapped.”

“Ariadne,” Jack said, “just tell us what you know, if you please.”

“The Troy Game wanted human incarnation,” said Ariadne. “Naturally, she chose her Kingman and Mistress of the Labyrinth—first Brutus and Genvissa, then Brutus-Louis and Noah when the first pairing failed—to give her form. You are her parents. She is of your flesh. It is highly possible that she can’t now be undone for two reasons: firstly her parents, flesh of her flesh, literally would not be able to unmake her—which is similar to what Silvius theorised—and secondly, because once a Game becomes flesh, maybe it
is
incapable of being undone. Who knows? As I said, no Game has ever done this before.”

“It makes a terrible kind of sense,” Noah said.

“Any added comments, Silvius?” Jack said.

“I defer to Ariadne’s knowledge,” he said. “After all, what was I but a straight-down-the-line Kingman who never put a foot wrong?”

Jack noted there was some interaction between Silvius and Ariadne at this point, a faint frisson of amusement that passed between them. If their current conversation hadn’t been so important Jack would have been hard-pressed not to drag his father outside to ask him privately what was happening between him and Ariadne.

There was another long silence. Stella walked over to the drinks cabinet, thought better of it, and sat down in a chair with a thump. Noah just stood, a shaking hand to her face.

“But think of this,” said Silvius. “If Catling has been this invulnerable, all this time, then why hex Grace? Why tie Grace’s fate to hers? If all this is true, then Catling didn’t need a backup.”

Noah dropped her hand away from her face, her eyes suddenly bright. “Do you think she was lying?”

Jack shared a look with Ariadne and Silvius, then shrugged. “I don’t know, Noah. We all,” he waved a hand, taking in Stella, Ariadne, Silvius and Noah, “need to think about it. Games
can
be unwound. Look at Troy, and Jericho, and all the cities you destroyed, Ariadne.”

Ariadne had the grace to drop her eyes.

“But none of those cities,
none
of them,” said Silvius, “had Games that were incarnate. We just don’t know. I don’t necessarily believe anything Catling says, but there
is
a grain of sense in her assertion.”

“Nonetheless,” said Ariadne, “I feel that Catling hexed Grace because Catling is still vulnerable. There is no other reason to do it.”

“Not because Catling has a malevolent and spiteful character and it may have given her joy to see Grace, and the rest of us, suffer?” said Noah.

“No,” said Ariadne. “Remember, Catling’s fate is Grace’s fate, but Grace’s fate is also Catling’s fate. The hex works both ways, and Catling would not have left herself exposed in this manner if there wasn’t a damn good reason to do it. She needed a backup, Grace was it, and that means she must be vulnerable elsewhere. Maybe she can’t be unwound or destroyed. But maybe there’s another chink in her armour somewhere.”

“Hope,” said Noah. “Thank the gods.”

“May I ask something?” said Silvius.

Jack gave his father a small smile. “Sure. So long as I have an answer for it.”

“
If
the Troy Game can be destroyed…what happens to the majority of people in this room who have been caught up in its machinations, reborn life after life? Will you be gone as well?”

“No,” said Jack. “We all exist independently of the Troy Game, and we’re all tied either to the land or to each other now. Only if the land is destroyed will we cease to exist.”

“Thank goodness for that,” said Silvius with a grin. “I was just starting to enjoy everyone’s company.”

Harry had been silent while the Mistresses of the Labyrinth and the two Kingmen talked, but now he put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Jack, I take it from this conversation that you
are
prepared to commit to the Troy Game’s undoing?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “Not that it does you any good, but yes. The Troy Game needs to be destroyed, unwound, undone, put away…whatever. It is a vileness, and…oh, gods, I
wish
I had never created the damned thing!”

“And
I
wish the land had never conducted its vile alliance with the Game,” said Harry, “but wishes will do us no good at all.”

“Catling knew what choice I would make,” Jack said. “She had her threats all to hand.”

“I still can’t come to grips with the idea that the daughter we conceived was, in fact, Catling,” said Stella. “All these years I have thought of her, and of what she could have been…and here she was, before us all the time. Catling.”

“I wish my daughter
had
been born,” said Noah softly. “Who knows what she may have been.”

Stella dropped her eyes.

“Enough,” said Harry. “There are no recriminations, no guilt. What has happened has happened, and we need to move forward.”

“Straight over the cliff?” muttered Ariadne, inspecting her scarlet fingernails.

Harry shot her a black look, but did not otherwise respond to her. “The Troy Game is the greatest threat
this land has ever faced,” he said, “and the land needs to be as strong as it can be to face the Game. Jack, Noah, for three and a half thousand years you have been antagonists, one way or the other. Jealousies and ambitions have driven you apart. It is time, finally, to put a stop to it, because,
damn it,
you are causing this land almost as much damage as Catling!”

Harry paused, looking between them. “It is time to make the Great Marriage. Time to give the land the strength it needs to fight back. You will do this.”

It was a directive, not a request, and it created an interesting undercurrent of emotion in the room. Jack and Noah looked at each other, and then as quickly away again. Silvius studied his son carefully; Ariadne grinned somewhat lasciviously and Stella sent her a glance of irritation.

Jack finally gave a tired little smile. “Noah?” he said. “
Can
we put our past behind us?”

“Of course,” she said, her response quick, but her face and words underscored with a little nervousness.

“Will Weyland accept this?” Jack said.