The Queen of Sinister (48 page)

Jack had tears in his eyes. 'How could you do that?'

'I still don't understand ... strategically,' Caitlin said. 'He was special, the key to sorting all this mess out, wasn't he?'

Matt shook his head. 'He wasn't the one - that's some other kid down in Salisbury, and we've already got him in our sights. The things he can do make Carlton look like ... some stupid child.'

Caitlin visibly winced. 'You're talking about military potential. The death of a child is so painful because of everything else you lose when they die. Who knows how they're going to turn out? They might become some great hero, a champion, or they might turn into you. You didn't just murder Carlton ... you murdered his future, the possibility of what he might have become.'

'I had a job to do, Caitlin—'

'Shut up.' Her voice had more of the Morrigan about it than she had expected. In that instant she had the strangest feeling that Carlton knew he was going to die, that he didn't care because he realised he was part of a bigger plan, and in a way he was: if Carlton hadn't died, Caitlin would never have allowed the Morrigan to take over and perhaps Matt would then have achieved all his aims. Something good had come out of the whole mess; perhaps it had even been Carlton's intention all along. Mahalia had been right: he really was special. 'Everything I've learned since coming here has told me you can't trust anything at face value - nothing is as it appears. You see, you believe the enemies are monsters or supernatural threats, but they're not. The real threat looks just like us, and it always has. The real threat has been amongst us since the dawn of humanity - the hard people, the ones who thought they knew better than anyone else, who could make the tough decisions about who lived or died. You think the world would be better with you and your secret Government in charge, rather than all the things we've got now?'

'Of course. You think the current mess is better with all the death and the misery we've seen?'

'And next to that, the death of an innocent boy amounts to nothing, is that what you're saying?'

Again he made not to speak, but this time he couldn't resist, so sure was he that he was right. 'Exactly. Anyone can see. There's no comparison.'

'I used to think no life was more valuable than another, but you've taught me I was wrong.'

He started to smile.

'We wouldn't miss you, Matt, you or any of your kind.'

His face hardened.

Jack drifted up to Matt. In the boy, Caitlin could see the fractured response of a child whose image of his parent had been destroyed. And Matt could see too what Jack was feeling, but aside from an uncomfortable flicker across the adult's face, he didn't place any value on it. Caitlin wondered how she could ever have been fooled by him.

Then, like a snake, Matt moved. Caitlin glimpsed a face that flashed from mild indifference to steel, and in that instant his arm was around Jack's neck, the boy spun round and locked in place, a small blade pressed against his throat.

Caitlin darted forward, but Matt tipped the knife just enough to draw blood. Caitlin was in no doubt that he would kill Jack if he wanted. 'Don't hurt him!' she said. 'It's pointless. He's a boy - let him go.'

'He's not a boy,' Matt said emotionlessly, 'he's a weapon. The biggest and best weapon that ever existed. If I get him back, with what's inside him, then we've got the upper hand. The other side would have to fall in line.'

'What if they don't? What point is a weapon that could destroy all Existence?'

'If you can't have the world the way you want it, there's no need for the world at all.'

'You'd destroy everything? Just because you couldn't bear not to be in charge?'

Matt began to drag Jack towards the first rank of the Lament-Brood. 'It's about freedom - you wouldn't understand—'

'I know. I'm too naive.' Did humanity stand any chance of advancing when there were people like Matt around, the kind of people who always rose into positions of power? What was the point, then, in anything?

'Turn on the power, Jack,' Matt said firmly. When Jack didn't respond, Matt jabbed the knife hard so that the boy howled in pain and then yelled, 'Turn it on!'

The thin light of the Wish-Hex began to leak from Jack's stomach. Matt forced the boy towards the Lament- Brood, using him as a shield while keeping one eye on Caitlin; his face warned her not to make any move. 'They'll let us out,' he said. 'They know what he can do. But more than that, they don't need us. You were the only threat. As long as they've got you, they'll be happy.'

His words were shown to be true as a path opened up through the Lament-Brood. If the Morrigan had still been a part of her, Caitlin might have been able to do something, but Matt was too vicious, too cunning, for her even to get close. But more than that, she knew she wasn't up to what was expected of her, for if she were she would risk killing Jack to prevent such power being used against Existence. She couldn't do that, not even there at the end. She wasn't hard enough; not like Matt.

He gave a sickeningly triumphant smile and eased down the path towards the exit that would take him away. He still hadn't got a cure for the plague, couldn't cross over on his own, but Caitlin was convinced that a person like Matt would find a way. He'd always win through.

Just as he reached the door to the next chamber, there was a movement a little way along the far wall. Caitlin couldn't tell what it was, but it appeared to come from one of the slits that led to the network of capillary tunnels.

Matt paused in the doorway. Caitlin didn't know if he was going to make some last arrogant comment to celebrate his escape, or simply show his contempt for her, but it never came. There was an odd moment when his face froze in puzzlement, and then a crimson shower gushed from his neck. The knife dropped from his fingers and he pitched backwards, emitting a queasy gurgling noise, his body lost behind the Lament-Brood.

And there was Mahalia. The tremble in the hand that held the knife that had slit Matt's throat was visible across the chamber, and her face held the devastation of someone who had been forced to sacrifice their last chance for redemption. But she erased it in a second and grabbed Jack. 'Come on,' she yelled to Caitlin. 'We can still get out of here.'

Caitlin tried to find some remorse in her heart for Matt's death, but there was none. She pulled Liam to her side and made to hurry towards Mahalia and Jack, but she was distracted by the sucking and slurping sounds as the House of Pain birthed another representative from the floor in front of her. It emerged quickly, a spindly frame on skeletal legs. When it was finally complete, it was nearly ten feet tall with a head like a black egg, bending over Caitlin and Liam to speak.

'Cannnnooottttttt... leawwwwe. Boyyyyyy... stayyyyyy. Beyondddd ... liessssssssss ... deathhhhhhhhhh.'

And there it was, finally, what she had been expecting for so long: the twist in the devil's contract. Liam hadn't been returned to life - he was simply caught in limbo. If she took him out of the House of Pain, his death would once again be a reality.

'Youuuuuuuuuuu ... staaaaayyyyyyyyy. Beeeeeeeee ... Queeeeeennnnnnnnn...'

Caitlin was numb. Inside her, Amy, Briony and Brigid howled into the storm. There was no way out. 'Yes,' she said. 'I'll stay.'

She held Liam close and walked back towards the warp field. While her back had been turned, the House of Pain had created a seat of shiny black stone, the perfect throne for the Queen of Sinister. Caitlin swallowed hard so her voice would be steady and then called to Mahalia, 'Go on. I'll be OK.'

Mahalia stared in disbelief, then grabbed Jack's arm and hauled him through the doorway. Caitlin felt pleased the girl had got away, and with Jack, the one who still meant there was a chance for her. That small success provided the thinnest glimmer of light in the dark existence that stretched before Caitlin.

Desolately, she walked up to the seat and sat down. It was icily cold, but soon that wouldn't matter. She looked out across the army - her army - and knew now why they waited: for their queen.

Her fate was clear. An iciness was creeping into her limbs, the legacy of the House of Pain, transforming her into something that could live in that place, revelling in the dark emotions it generated. She would sit on that cold, black throne for evermore, commanding her army of the dead, with her son standing silently at her side until the stars winked out one by one and all that was left was the Void.

Mahalia and Jack raced past the last of the Lament-Brood, through the next room and into the network of tunnels that cut through the House of Pain.

'We could go back for Caitlin,' Jack said. 'We can't leave her here.'

'She chose to stay - she's a grown woman.' Mahalia tried to sound hard so that Jack wouldn't find a chink that would prise her back, but inside she was devastated. Not so long ago she had tried to kill her, yet now she mourned Caitlin. What was wrong with her?

Jack appeared to sense what was going through her head, for he grabbed her hand as they ran and gave it a squeeze. 'I'm glad you're here,' he said quietly. His honest expression of emotion brought a lump to her throat.

'You want a dirty job doing, I'm your girl.'

They broke out into the main corridor that led to the entrance. Through the massive doorway, late afternoon sun glowed like a beacon.

'What are we going to do now?' Jack said.

'One more thing before we leave, then...' Mahalia looked across the plain to the panorama of the Land of Always Summer stretching out across the horizon. '... we've got a whole world to play with.'

She came to an abrupt halt not far from the entrance and began to search the wall. Finally she found what she was looking for, and forced her hands into one of the nearly hidden slits that gave access to the capillary tunnel system. 'Come on, give me a hand,' she called.

Without understanding what he was doing, Jack thrust his hands into the slit alongside her and felt something alive inside. Before he could recoil or question, Mahalia was hauling whatever it was out into the corridor and he was helping her.

There was a sucking sound and Crowther emerged, as pale as death and covered in blood, the spear still embedded in him but now broken off on both sides. Yet he was still alive - but only just. His eyes flickered and the faintest wheeze of breath escaped his lips.

'He was planning to do something heroic, but it was so out of character I couldn't let him,' Mahalia said. 'So I dragged him away and stashed him in there.'

'Why?' Jack could see that the professor was only a whisker away from death.

'Because I had an idea.' Mahalia faced Jack, her arms on his shoulders to focus his attention on her face. 'Call me stupid, but I found this thing called hope. It was something I'd not bothered with before, but when you're down to your last, you take anything you've got, right?'

He saw that same hope in her frightened eyes and felt more in love with her than he had thought possible. 'What's your idea?'

'That power inside you ... the Wish-Hex. Everybody talks about it like it's some doomsday weapon, but I've seen you use it and I thought, maybe it's not just useful for destroying things. It's a kind of energy, like that Blue Fire everyone was always wittering on about. Maybe it's one and the same thing. And ... and ...' She leaned forward to kiss him quickly. 'I want you to try to use it to save the professor.'

Jack looked down at Crowther in dismay. 'I don't think I can.'

'Just try, Jack. For me.'

Hesitantly, he knelt down beside the prone form and cradled the professor's head in his hands. His brow knitted in concentration, and the light leaked out of his stomach and flowed into his arms and then his hands.

Mahalia watched Jack for fifteen minutes as he battled with the stream of energy, directing it, forcing it to his will. Sweat dripped from his forehead and soaked his underarms and back. For all that time, it appeared to be doing little good, for the professor continued to hover on the brink of dying; but then, gradually, colour drifted back into his cheeks and his eyes began to flicker.

Mahalia leaned forward and yanked the remaining stub of the spear from his chest. It came out with a sucking sound, but instead of a gout of blood there was only white light. As the light cleared, Mahalia could see the hole in the professor begin to close.

Five minutes later it was all over. Jack flopped back, exhausted but beaming with the wonder of what he had done. The professor moaned and then slowly opened his eyes. He looked up into Mahalia's face.

'Oh,' he said. 'This must be hell.'

'Looks like you've got some use after all, boy,' Mahalia said to Jack. Her heart swelled at the depth of feeling etched on his face; he knew now that he wasn't just a weapon, that his lifetime of suffering might have had some positive outcome after all.

But as she and Jack struggled to help Crowther to his feet, a shadow fell across them. Mahalia looked up suddenly. 'Who the hell are you?' she said in astonishment.

*