I had no idea how long I’d been running. How far I’d come, or how far I still had left to go. It felt like I’d always been running, like one of those nightmares where you flee forever and never get anywhere. I was staggering along now, gasping for breath, fighting to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Every breath hurt, in my chest and in my sides and in my back. I couldn’t even feel my feet or my hands any more. I no longer lashed out at the beasts that attacked me, saving my strength.
I had a plan.
Herne the Hunter finally steered his moon stallion right in front of me, blocking my path, so I had to stop. I crashed to a halt, breathing so hard I couldn’t hear anything else. I could still see him laughing, though. Hear the rest of the Hunt closing in around me. Herne leaned over his mount’s shoulder to address me, and I ached to wipe the smile off his face. Dark shadows filled the woods around me, milling restlessly, impatient for the kill, held back only by Herne’s will. He leaned right over, pushing his face close to mine, so I would be sure to hear his words.
“You ran well, for a mortal. Led us a merry chase, to our great entertainment. But now it’s over. The Hunt ends as it always has and always will, in the slow, horrid death of the prey. Be sure to scream loudly, so perhaps your woman will hear you and know something of the fate that awaits her, too.”
“She’s not my woman,” I mumbled through slack bloody lips. “Suzie can take care of herself. And just maybe, she’ll take care of you, too.”
Herne laughed in my face. “Die now, Lilith’s son, alone and in torment, and know that everything you’ve done and endured has been for nothing. Your woman will suffer and die, just like you. After we’ve had our fun with her.”
He leaned right over to spit these last words directly into my face, and at last he was close enough for me to grab him with both bloody hands, and haul him right off his glowing moon stallion. Overbalanced, he toppled off easily, and I slammed him to the ground. I hit him once in the mouth, for my own satisfaction, then used the last of my strength to grab the moon stallion’s enchanted bridle and pull myself up onto his back. The stallion reared up on its hind legs, pawing at the air and tossing its head, but I had the bridle in my hands, and when I pointed the stallion’s head in the direction of the city, the creature had no choice but to carry me there. I drove it mercilessly on, faster and faster, and we sped through the wild wood like a dream of motion, swerving effortlessly between the trees, never slowing or stopping, while I hung on desperately with all that was left of my hoarded strength.
Behind me I could hear the cheated howls of the Wild Hunt, and Herne crying out in rage and shame, and I laughed breathlessly.
I urged the moon stallion on to even greater speeds as the Hunt pursued us, and we fled through the night, the pounding hooves hardly seeming to touch the ground. The whole of the Wild Hunt was on my trail, but they were a long way back. I slumped forward over the neck of the moon stallion, horribly tired, but my hands had closed around the controlling enchanted bridle in a grip that only death would loosen. I’d snatched a second chance from the very edge of defeat, and I was going home—to the city, and the Nightside, and Suzie Shooter.
The great trees flashed past me on either side, seemingly as insubstantial as a dream, come and gone impossibly fast. And still the Wild Hunt followed. Until suddenly the tall trees fell away behind me, and the moon stallion was racing across the open grasslands. I slowly raised my aching head and saw the lights of the city burning up ahead. I risked a look back over my shoulder. All the monstrous creatures of Herne’s Court were pouring out of the forest, so caught up in the bloodlust of the chase that they would even leave the safety of the wild wood to come after me. I couldn’t see Herne. Perhaps he was having trouble keeping up, on foot. I grinned, then I coughed, and fresh blood spilled down my chin. Damn. Not a good sign. My head was swimming madly, and I could barely feel the moon stallion beneath me. For the first time, I wondered if there was enough left in me to hang on until we reached the city. But in the end I did, because I had to. Suzie Shooter was waiting for me.
The moon stallion pounded on, flashing across the grasslands like a streak of light, the city and its lights growing steadily before me. And almost before I knew it, we had crossed the boundary into the city, into streets and buildings, stone and plaster, and the moon stallion crashed to a halt. It was of the wild wood and would go no further, bridle or no. For a long moment, I sat there. I’d made it. The thought repeated slowly in my head. I looked down at my hands, slick with my own blood, but still gripping the enchanted bridle so firmly the knuckles showed white. I forced my fingers open, released the bridle, then slid off the side of the stallion and fell to the ground. And the moon stallion turned immediately and raced back across the city boundary, across the grasslands and back to the wild wood, where it belonged. I sat up slowly and watched it go, bright and shining as a departing dawn. I sat there, my head nodding, my hands in my lap, broken and bloodied. The whole of the front of my trench coat was a ragged bloody mess, but I was too deathly tired to feel most of my hurts. I didn’t seem to have the strength to do anything, and that worried me vaguely, but I had made it back to the city; and that was all that mattered. I watched impassively as Herne the Hunter came running across the grasslands. He seemed so much smaller, so much less, outside the forest. The rest of his monstrous Court came after him, but they seemed to be hanging back. I smiled slowly. Let them come. Let them all come. I’d beaten him. Suzie was safe now.
I was cold, so cold. I started to shiver and couldn’t stop. I wondered if I was dying.
Footsteps approached behind me, but I didn’t have enough strength left to turn and look. And then Suzie Shooter was kneeling beside me, free and unguarded. I tried to smile for her. She looked me over, and made a low, shocked sound.
“Oh God, John. What have they done to you?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I said, or thought I said. More blood spilled down my chin as my lips split open again. It was only a small hurt after so many worse ones, but it was the last straw, and I started to cry. Just from shock and weariness. I’d given all I had to give, and there was nothing left. My whole body was shaking and shuddering now, from simple exhaustion. And Suzie took me in her arms and held me to her. And bad as I felt, I knew how much it took for her to be able to do that. She rocked me slowly, my head resting against her leather-clad shoulder, while she made soothing, hushing noises.
“It’s all right, John. It’s all over. I’m free, and you’re going to be fine. Find you a sorcerer, get you fixed up good.”
“I thought you were under guard here,” I said, slowly and distinctly.
She snorted loudly. “Beat the shit out of them the moment I was safely back in the city. There’s no-one left here to hurt us.”
“I knew you could look after yourself,” I said. “But I couldn’t take the risk… of being wrong.”
Suzie sniffed. “Bloody pig men. You wouldn’t believe how many times they felt me up on the way here. Smelled really bad, too. Couldn’t kill them fast enough. Maybe we’ll have a barbecue, later?”
“Sounds good,” I said. “I’m cold, Suzie. So cold.”
She held me tighter, but I could barely feel it. “Hang on, John. Hang on.”
“Journeys end…”
“In lovers’ meeting?” said Suzie, her cheek against my forehead.
“Maybe,” I said. “If only we’d had more time…”
“There will be time for many things…”
“No. I don’t think so. I’m dying, Suzie. I wish…”
She said something, but it couldn’t hear it over the roaring in my head. I could see the blood running out of me, but everything was disappearing into darkness as the world slipped slowly away from me. I was ready to die; if it meant the future I’d seen for Suzie, and the Nightside, might not happen after all.
“I saved you,” I said.
“I knew you would,” she said. “I knew they’d never catch you.”
That wasn’t what I meant, but it didn’t matter.
Then I felt her whole body tense as she looked up sharply. I pushed the darkness back through a sheer effort of will and lifted my head to look. And there before us was Herne the Hunter, standing on the other side of the city boundary, his face dark with rage. His Court was spread out behind him, keeping well back. Herne actually danced with rage in front of me, driven half out of his mind at losing.
“You cheated!” he screamed at me, spittle flying on the air with the force of his words. “You didn’t run the gauntlet! You used tricks and magics! You stole my lovely moon stallion! Cheat! Cheat!”
I grinned at him even though it hurt. “Told you I was smarter than you. All that matters is I won. I got here. You and your whole damned Court couldn’t stop me. I beat you, Herne, so go away and pick on someone smaller than yourself.”
“You didn’t beat me! No-one beats me! You cheated!” Herne was almost crying by then with the strength of his emotions, and his Court stirred uneasily behind him. He shook a gnarled fist at me. “No-one wins unless I say they win! You’re dead, you hear me? I’ll drag you out of there and back into the woods, and then, and then … I’ll do such terrible things to you!”
Tomias Squarefoot stepped forward, and Herne turned viciously to glare at him. The Neanderthal stood calmly before the wood god, and his voice was cold and unmoved. “You cannot pursue them any further, Herne. They are in the city now, and beyond our reach. By the rules of your own Hunt, they are safe from you.”
“I am the god of the wild places! Of the storm and the lightning! I am the glory of the hunt and the wolf who runs and the antlers on the rutting stag! I am the power of the wild wood, and I will not be denied!”
“He ran well and bravely,” said Squarefoot, and some of the Court actually grunted and growled in agreement behind him. “He won, Herne. Let it go.”
“Never!”
“If you do this,” Squarefoot said slowly, “you do it alone.”
“Alone then!” spat Herne, turning his back on them all, and he wouldn’t even look round when Tomias Squarefoot went back to join the Court, and they all headed back across the grasslands, to the wild wood, where they belonged. Herne leaned slowly forward, as though testing the strength of some unseen, unfelt barrier, his curling goat’s horns trembling with anticipation. His eyes were fierce and staring, and more than a little mad.
Suzie put me carefully to one side and stood up to place herself between Herne and me. They’d taken her shotgun, so she drew the two long knives from her boot tops. She stood tall and proud, and it looked like it would take the whole damn world to bring her down. Herne regarded her craftily, his shaggy head cocked slightly to one side, like a bird.
“You can’t stop me. I’m a god.”
“You wouldn’t be the first god I’ve killed,” said Suzie Shooter. “And you’re on my territory now.”
It might have been a bluff, or knowing Suzie, maybe not, but either way it did me good to hear her say it with such scorn and confidence. And I discovered I was damned if I’d sit there and let her face the threat alone. I forced myself up onto one knee, then onto my feet. I moved unsteadily forward to stand beside Suzie. I was swaying, but I was up. If I was going out, I was going to do it on my feet.
“Lilith’s son,” Herne whispered. “Child of the city and hated civilization. You would wipe away all the woods and all of the wild. I’ll see you dead even if it damns me for all time.”
He stepped forward, and Suzie and I braced ourselves to meet the fury of the wood god. And that was when a dark-haired man in a long flowing robe, carrying a long wooden staff, appeared out of nowhere to stand between us and Herne. Suzie actually jumped a little, and I had to grab her arm to steady myself. Herne held his ground, snarling uncertainly at the newcomer, who slammed his staff into the ground before Herne. It stood there, alone and upright, quivering slightly.
“I am the Lord of Thorns,” said the newcomer. “Newly appointed Overseer of the Nightside. And you should not be here, Herne the Hunter.”
“Appointed by who?” snapped Herne. “By that new god, the Christ? You have his smell on you. I was here before him, and I shall hold sway in the woods long after he has been forgotten.”
“No,” said the Lord of Thorns. “He has come, and nothing shall ever be the same again. I have been given power over all the Nightside, to see that agreements are enforced. You set up the rules of the Wild Hunt, and so are bound by them. You invested your own power in the Hunt, to make it the significant thing that it is, and so it has power over you. You cannot enter here.”
“No! No! I will not be cheated out of my prey! I will have my revenge! I will feast on his heart, and yours!”
Herne grabbed at the Lord of Thorns’ standing staff, to tear it out of the ground and perhaps use it as a weapon; but the moment he touched it, the ground shook, and bright light surged up, and the wood god cried out despairingly in pain and shock and horror. He fell writhing to the ground, curled up into a ball, and sobbed at the feet of the Lord of Thorns, who looked down on him sadly.
“You did this to yourself, Herne. You are of the city now, by your own act, cut off from the woods and the wild places, only a small fraction of what you once were, now and forever.”
“I want to go home,” said Herne, like a small child.
“You can’t,” said the Lord of Thorns. “You chose to come into the city, and now you belong here.”
“But what am I to do?”
“Go forth and do penance. Until finally, perhaps, you can learn to make your peace with the civilization that is coming.”
Herne snarled up at the Lord of Thorns, with a touch of his old defiance, and then the broken god, smaller and much diminished, crept past the Lord of Thorns and disappeared into the streets of the city.
I was watching him go, when suddenly I found I was lying on the ground. I didn’t remember falling. I was tired, and drifting, and everything seemed so very far away. I could hear Suzie calling my name, increasingly desperately, but I couldn’t find the strength to answer her. She grabbed me by the shoulder to try and sit me up, but my body was so much dead weight, and I couldn’t help her. I thought, So this is dying. It doesn’t seem so bad. Maybe I’ll get some rest, at last.
Then the Lord of Thorns knelt beside me. He had a kind, bearded face. He put his hand on my chest, and it was like my whole body got jump-started. Strength and vitality slammed through me like an electric charge, driving out the pain and weariness, and I sat bolt upright, crying out loud at the shock and joy of it. Suzie fell back on her haunches, squeaking loudly in surprise. I laughed suddenly, so glad to be alive. I scrambled up onto my feet, hauling Suzie up with me, and I hugged her to me. Her body started to tense up, so I let her go. Some miracles take longer to work out than others.
I checked myself over. My trench coat was a thing of rags and tatters, mostly held together by dried blood, but all my wounds were gone, healed, as though they had never been. I was whole again. I looked blankly at the Lord of Thorns, and he smiled and bowed slightly, like a stage magician acknowledging a clever trick.
“I am the Overseer, and it is my job and privilege to put things right, where a wrong has been committed. How do you feel?”
“Bloody marvellous! Like I could take on the whole damned world!” I looked down at my tattered coat. “I don’t suppose…”
He shook his head firmly. “I’m the Overseer, not a tailor.”
I turned and smiled at Suzie, and she smiled back. The scratches and bruises were gone from her face, though the scars remained. “You should smile more,” I said. “It looks good on you.”
“Nah,” she said. “It’s bad for my reputation.”
We looked back at the Lord of Thorns, as he coughed meaningfully. “It is my understanding that you seek to travel further back in Time, to the very creation of the Nightside itself. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” I said. “How did…”
“I know what I need to kn
ow. Comes with the job. I am here to help, after all. That’s what the Church of the Christ is supposed to be about. Helping, and caring, and teaching others to take responsibility for their own actions.”
“Even in a place like this?” said Suzie.
“Especially in a place like this,” said the Lord of Thorns.
He slammed his long wooden staff against the ground once more, and the whole world flew away from us, as we dropped back into Time’s river, sweeping back into Yesterday.
Chapter Eleven
Angels, Demons, and
Mommie Dearest
This time it didn’t feel like falling through Time but more like being flung from a catapult. A rainbow exploded around us, punctuated by exploding galaxies and the cries of stars being born, while from all around came the screaming and howling of Things from Outside, crying Let us in! Let us in! in languages older than the worlds. Suzie Shooter and I finally dropped out of the chronoflow and back into Time, slamming back into the world like a bullet from a gun. Breathing harshly like new-born children, we looked around us. We’d materialised standing among the trees at the edge of a great forest, looking out over a huge open clearing. The clear night sky was full of everyday stars, and the full moon was no bigger than it should be. Wherever or whenever we were, the Nightside hadn’t happened yet.
Yet the clearing lying vacant and open before us, so vast its far side was practically on the horizon, was clearly no natural thing. Its edge was too sharp, too distinct, cutting through some of the surrounding tree-trunks like a razor’s edge, leaving half trees with their insides laid bare, oozing clear sap like blood. The clearing itself held only dark earth, bare and featureless. Its making had definitely been unnatural; raw magics were still sparking and spitting and crackling on the air, the last discharging remnants of a mighty Working. Someone had made acres of forest disappear in a moment, and I had a pretty good idea who.