He hit the ground hard, and span round impossibly quickly, just in time to see Angel break Jimmy’s hold with one great flex of her arms. She hit him once, throwing him to the ground with such force that all his berserk power was knocked right out of him. Blood ran in a flood from the terrible wound in Angel’s throat and air bubbled in it, but she didn’t fall. The pale flesh closed over, knitting together, and the wound was gone. She laughed at Jimmy lying on the ground before her and stamped on him. Ribs cracked and broke loudly. Angel did it again, and Jimmy cried out in spite of himself. Leo threw himself once more at Angel, and she snatched him out of mid-air with one hand and threw him thirty feet, to smash against a tree and break it in two. Leo fell limply to the ground.
Jimmy Thunder, last of the Norse gods, last of the line of Thor, drew on the remains of his strength and his heritage and called down a lightning bolt.
The stark and brilliant levin bolt slammed down through the fog, throwing back the night, and grounded itself through Angel. She shrieked like a damned soul, shuddering and shaking, but held in place like a beetle on a pin. All her hair stood out, and her skin blackened and charred. She shook violently, still screaming. The lightning bolt finally snapped off, and Angel’s scream stopped. She fell forward onto her face and lay still, smoke rising from her black and twisted body.
Toby hurried over to the broken, bloody thunder god, and got him back on his feet. His wounds were slowly healing, but his eyes were vague and confused. Leo Morn came limping over to join them, human once again.
“We’d better get moving,” Luna said calmly. “Angel’s down, but not out. Nice try though, Jimmy. Leo, look after him. Toby, you help Gayle. She’s only going to get weaker as we approach the farmhouse. I’ll lead the way, while I can.”
They set off slowly through the fog. Up in his tree, the King of the Cats watched them go. When he was sure it was safe, he climbed carefully down, went over to sniff at Angel’s still smoking body, and then headed resolutely for the Blackacre boundary. Cats know when to cut their losses.
Gayle was leaning more and more heavily on Toby now, and sometimes she didn’t seem to know where she was, or why. According to Luna, they were almost at the farmhouse clearing, but Toby didn’t know how much faith to put in her. She seemed sane and collected enough, but the details of her armour kept changing when he wasn’t looking, and sometimes she addressed him by his own name and sometimes by others, confusing him with lovers from Gayle’s extensive history. Jimmy Thunder looked worn out and Leo Morn looked frankly dispirited. All in all, they were not much of an army to take on the Serpent’s Son.
Part of Toby wanted just to take Gayle and get the hell out of the dead wood. Blackacre was killing her. He could see it in her growing weakness, in the troubling vagueness of her face and eyes. Somehow the dead wood was sucking all the life out of her. But even if he could drag her out, against her will, he knew she’d only insist on going back in again. She was supposed to be here. So was he. He could feel it, on a level too deep to deny. The focal point was being drawn inexorably to the point and purpose of his existence, whether he liked it or not. The same unknown force that had brought him and Gayle together was now demanding its price, and possibly its pound of flesh. Toby wasn’t as scared of death as he’d once been, not now he’d met her, but still he didn’t want to die. He had so much to live for, with Gayle.
Typical of his luck, really. Finally to gain what he’d always wanted, only so it could be taken away again.
He was so lost in thoughts of fate and destiny, he didn’t notice at first when the dead wood came alive around him. The ancient trees stirred slowly, their long branches bending and twisting and stretching out towards the group as they passed, while dark roots burst up through the broken ground to writhe like dreaming snakes. One by one the group became aware of what was happening, and looked quickly about them as the dead trees rocked and swayed, and tore themselves up out of the ashy ground. They walked on their roots, terrible dead giants with blind, implacable purpose.
“Hob,” said Luna, making the name a curse. “His plan, his will. It’s in everything.”
Gayle raised her head slowly, and recited an old rhyme Toby hadn’t heard since his childhood.
“Ash do grieve, Oak do hate, Willow do follow if ye walk out late.”
The dead trees were tearing themselves free from the earth on all sides now, and the group fell back before them. No one had the strength left to fight them. Jimmy’s hand went to his hammer, back in its holster on his hip, but he didn’t draw it. It was all Leo could do to keep Jimmy on his feet, and both of them knew it. The trees pressed forward, blocking off all routes but one, herding the group towards the clearing, and the farmhouse.
Hob was getting impatient.
They were only a few minutes from the clearing. They stumbled out into the open space, and the fog was suddenly gone. It clung to the edges of the clearing, but would not enter, as though even it was afraid of Nicholas Hob. Toby took his first look at the farmhouse up close, and felt sick. There was something foul and unhealthy about the old structure, in its shapes and angles, as though the very stone and timbers had been infected by the evil that lived within it. Gayle’s head came up slowly and she gently pushed herself away from Toby. She didn’t want to appear weak before Hob. She walked steadily forward, across the open clearing, and no one ever knew what that cost her. The others went with her. One by one the farmhouse windows came alight with a harsh bright glare, like eyes opening. Gayle and the others came to the front door, and it opened before them; and there was Nicholas Hob, smiling.
“Do come in. I’ve been expecting you.”
His voice sent shivers up Toby’s spine, and he looked instinctively behind him for some way out, but there, on the edge of the clearing, stood Angel, complete and unharmed and smiling a smile very like Hob’s. One by one the risen dead emerged from the fog to stand with her, a dead army compelled by Hob’s unrelenting will.
“Come in,” said Hob. “And we’ll talk, for a while. You might as well. There’s nowhere else you can go.”
He stood back and gestured for them to enter, and one by one the last hopes of all the worlds entered the house of their enemy.
ELEVEN
FAMILY TIES
Toby’s first thought on seeing the interior of the farmhouse parlour was that something had died there, just possibly the room itself. The pock-marked walls were seeping with what looked awfully like pus, and there were larger craters too, weeping like discharging wounds. The floor was thick and sticky with accumulated filth, and the sourceless light that filled the room was too sharp, too bright; overwhelming to the human eye, it gave everything the exaggerated, distorted look of a fever dream. There was a sense of sickness to the room; physical, emotional and intellectual. It was not a place where normal, sane people could bear to live. It stank too, a rank, horrid stench that was almost overpowering. Toby had to fight not to gag too obviously. Houses come to resemble their owners. It occurred to Toby that he was getting his first real look at Nicholas Hob’s mind, or his soul.
Gayle was even weaker here, increasingly unsteady on her feet, and Toby was having to support most of her weight. There were only two chairs, on either side of an elegant coffee table, all looking incongruously normal in such a setting. Toby didn’t wait for permission before settling her onto one of the chairs. Hob might have said no, if asked. Gayle’s face was slack, and wet with sweat, and her eyes were dangerously vague. She didn’t respond when Toby said her name. He looked round at Hob, who was sinking gracefully into the opposite chair.
“What have you done to her, Hob?”
“Just brought her down to everyone else’s level,” Hob said cheerfully. “I thought it was time we all had a little chat, and I don’t want any … interruptions.” He looked across at Leo Morn, who was still supporting the weakened Jimmy Thunder. “Do feel free to dump him anywhere, Leo. It’s not as if either of you are going anywhere, just yet.” Then, finally, he looked at Luna.
>
“Welcome to my home, Mother. It’s not much, but it’s mine, all mine.”
“Oh, this place is really you, Nicholas,” said Luna, still looking round the room rather than at him. “You must have put a lot of effort into getting it to look like this.”
Hob smiled briefly. “You have no idea, Mother. Do make yourself at home. We have so much to talk about.” He turned a charming smile on Toby. “You and I especially have much to discuss. Hi; I’m Nicholas Hob. I’m sure they’ve told you terrible things about me, but you should know by now not to believe everything people say. In Mysterie, there are always more than two sides to any story. And mine is more complex than most. Ask me anything, Toby Dexter, and I promise I will tell you whatever you want to know. Whether you’ll like the answers … Where would you like to start?”
“How can you live in a place like this?” said Toby.
“This is where I have been forced to live,” said Hob, leaning forward in his chair to fix Toby with an earnest gaze. He ignored the others with almost insolent charm, focusing all his attention on Toby. “A lot of people want me dead, Toby Dexter. People like your companions. People such as they have hounded me across the world and back, for longer than you can imagine, never allowing me to settle anywhere for long. There are only a few places left now, where I can feel safe and secure. They took all the good places for themselves. It’s time you knew the truth about me, Toby; and the truth about them.”
“Don’t listen to him,” said Jimmy Thunder. He was sitting on the floor now, with his back propped against the wall, breathing harshly, his voice just a shadow of its former confident self. “You can’t trust the Hob. Can’t trust anything he says. He knows you’re a focal point, knows you’re here for a purpose. He wants to turn you, make you his. He’d say anything, promise you anything, to distract you from your purpose here. You can’t ever trust the Serpent’s Son.”
“You see?” said Hob, leaning back in his chair and crossing his long legs with elegant ease. “They don’t want you to listen to what I have to say. They can’t allow you to know the whole truth. Because there are some things they can’t afford for you to know. Terrible secrets, that they’ve been hiding from you.”
“The Hob is the Prince of Lies,” said Jimmy. “Everyone knows that.”
“Why should I lie, when the truth can be so much more damaging?” said Hob. “Take Gayle, for example. Tell me, Toby; have any of them told you who and what your lady love really is? Would you like to know?”
Toby considered, but only for a moment. “Yes, I want to know. I need to know.”
He looked at Gayle, sitting slumped in the chair beside him, but she said nothing. Toby folded his arms across his chest and looked defiantly at Hob, who smiled back at him almost sadly. Jimmy tried to say something, but Hob overrode him easily.
“Gayle is the human form of Gaia. Mother Earth, the planetary consciousness, the living world that supports us all. When she takes on her aspect, she becomes the Earth; womb and parent to all humankind, and unimaginably powerful. Her sister Luna, my dear mother, is the Moon, of course. Take deep breaths, Toby. These are big concepts, but you can handle them.”
“So the Serpent In The Sun,” Toby said slowly, “is …”
“The Sun. Yes. The Gayle and Luna you’ve been associating with aren’t really human, the way you and even I are. They’re just masks, roles they play, suits they put on when they feel like going slumming. Tiny extensions of themselves they made so that they could walk unnoticed among us. The Gayle who so entranced you is really nothing more than a glove puppet. Gaia can no more love you than you could love one of the amoebae that live in your digestive tract. That’s why she would never tell you the truth, or allow anyone else to tell you. She kept you close to her, in ignorance, because you’re a focal point, and as such, useful to her.”
Toby’s head was spinning. He felt sick. He wished there was another chair. Hob’s voice was calm and reasonable, but the things he was saying were hard to swallow, even after everything Toby had seen so far, even though they explained so very much. He was careful not to look at Gayle, or Luna. He looked challengingly at Hob.
“So … all the planets are alive?”
“Everything’s alive, on some level,” said Hob. “Everything’s conscious. And the further up the scale you go, the bigger you get, the more powerful that consciousness becomes. Gaia and Luna and the Serpent are the real Powers and Dominations, because they have power and control over everything we do and are. We only exist on their sufferance because we’re useful, sometimes. I’ve spent all my long life fighting them, struggling to be free. For all of us to be free.”
“But … you’re saying Gaia, and Luna, are physically the Earth and the Moon?” said Toby, needing to be sure he’d got that right.
“It’s more of a metaphysical thing,” said Hob. “The women you’ve been allowed to see are only the smallest tips of very large icebergs. Time for a history lesson, I think—the true and terrible origins of life in the solar system, and not at all what they teach you in school. In the beginning was the First-Born, what we now know as The Serpent In The Sun; the first living consciousness. The Sun, alive and aware and terribly alone. Then, later, the planets awoke and took on sentience, and developed needs and aims of their own. In the beginning they were all one happy family, or so I’ve been told, but it didn’t last. When new life, new sentience, began to appear on the worlds, things changed.
“The Serpent was the Sun, and always would be. An individual consciousness, perfect and unique, but never to know the joys of raising and nurturing life of its own. Gaia, on the other hand, gave birth to teeming hordes of life, great and small, over the millennia. And all kinds of beings grew strong and sentient in her loving care. As long as they didn’t forget their place. Remember the dinosaurs? Cocky bastards, by all accounts. Anyway, Humanity came along very late in the day, the very last species on earth to achieve sentience. They were the weakest creatures, but the most subtle; and as a result, the race with the greatest possibilities for growth and even transcendence. Which is why Gaia continues to tolerate our poisonous presence, despite all the damage we do her. But don’t misunderstand me, Toby. Gaia may approve of our species as a whole, but she’s never given a damn for individual members of that species.”
“You flowered in the real world of Veritie,” said Luna, unexpectedly. “You made it your own. The greater powers and presences always preferred Mysterie.”
“Because they’re afraid of Humanity,” Hob said quickly. “Afraid of our potential, of what we might become.”
“That’s not true,” Gayle said heavily. “He lies, Toby. He always does. It’s his nature. Tell the truth for once, Hob, and shame yourself. You planned all this, didn’t you?”
“Oh yes,” said Hob. “I planned it all, every detail.”
“Why?” said Gayle. “Why did you want us here?”
“Direct and to the point, as always,” said Hob. “I’ve always admired that in you, Gaia. Dear Auntie. Never any messing about with you. Your answers to problems have always been very straightforward—an earthquake, a volcano, a plague. You’ve wiped out whole civilisations, in your time. Compared to you, I’m an amateur.” Hob leaned forward suddenly to glare at Gayle. “And you call me evil … my body count is nothing compared to yours.” He settled back in his chair, and looked apologetically at Toby. “Sorry about that. I just find hypocrisy so irritating. Now, where was I? Oh yes. Everything I’ve done since my return here was planned with a single aim in mind; to bring you and Gayle here. Spreading rumours, planting information here and there, even my attack with the risen dead on the thunder godling’s home were all a ruse, to distract you from my true intentions and lure you here, into my parlour, my world. Blackacre, the one place where I have power, and Gaia does not.”
“Tell him why,” said Gayle. “Tell him about the terrible thing you did here, little monster.”
“I’ve always been very proud of what I achieved here, but then I’m
biased, I suppose,” Hob said easily. “But no one else has ever torn a part of Gaia away from her and made it their own. It’s a unique achievement. Until now … But I’m getting ahead of myself. Long ago, Toby, I called to my father the Serpent, and he sent out a great and powerful solar flare. I called it down to this place, to this very spot, channelled it through me, and that supernaturally charged blast of heat scorched all life from this wood. All that was left were dead trees in a dead land. It became the one place on Earth where Gaia no longer had any hold, or influence, or power, or access. Blackacre became my place, my world, where I could be safe at last. The view’s not up to much, but you can’t have everything.”
“He killed it all,” said Gayle. “Every living thing here, from the highest to the lowest. And now I am here, in this unnatural place; I’m isolated from the living world. I cannot become Gaia, or call on any of my power. Here, I’m only my human self. Small, limited and very vulnerable—the perfect trap. And I walked right into it.”
“Exactly!” said Hob, clapping his hands together. “I knew your mighty pride, your ancient arrogance, wouldn’t let you see me or this place as a serious threat to such as you. You’ve been human too long, Gayle, forgotten too much.”
“No,” said Gayle. “That isn’t why I came here.”
Hob looked at her for a moment, and then shrugged. “No matter. I needed you here, and here you are. And you, Toby. You’re just as important to me. In fact, you’re much more important than they ever told you.”
“What about the others?” said Toby.
Hob shrugged. “Angel wanted Jimmy Thunder here. She’s a bit peeved with him. She wants to rip out his heart and eat it, and who am I to deny Angel her little pleasures? Luna’s presence was unexpected. Who knew she’d actually leave her wretched little bolt-hole after all these years? I haven’t had the pleasure of her august presence in the same room as myself since she abandoned me as a baby. And, it must be said, I had no wish ever to see her again, except at her funeral, perhaps. Still, what only son doesn’t want his mother to see the great things he’s achieved? To be awed, when he becomes so much more than she ever was? It’s fitting she should be here, in the moment of my greatest triumph. You will try to pay attention, won’t you, Mother dearest? I’d hate you to miss any of it. Ah well; it’s not as if I need worry about your interfering.” Hob looked at Toby almost apologetically. “She’s still a Power, but much weakened by centuries of feeble-mindedness. Frankly I’m amazed she remembers who I am, or who she is.”