Spirits from Beyond

  “He may be out of his skull, but he has a point,” said Melody.

  “The Flesh Undying is stuck at the bottom of the ocean,” Kim said patiently. “To try anything directly would use up a great deal of power. So instead, it prefers to act in this world through agents. Like the Faust, or the Phantom of the Haybarn. Or the traitor who possessed Robert Patterson. Lud would make a far more powerful local agent. Even if he is much diminished from what he once was. Only a ghost of his former self . . . As to why The Flesh Undying is so determined to wipe us out. I think it’s scared of us.”

  “Us?” said Happy. “Really? Gosh; I do feel proud . . .”

  “But why us?” said Melody. “Out of all the Ghost Finders in the Carnacki Institute? I mean, remember poor Jeremy Diego and his team, back at Chimera House? Wiped out in a moment, without a second thought!”

  “I think . . . it’s because of what happened to me, down in the Underground,” said JC. “When Something reached down from Outside and touched me. And Kim.”

  Happy looked at Melody. “I don’t feel touched. Do you feel touched? I don’t remember being touched even though we were both right there, alongside these two cocky drawers . . .”

  “On the other hand,” Melody said slowly, “did you notice . . . when the four of us linked together, that time, our eyes glowed golden, too. That has to mean something.”

  “I don’t feel different,” Happy said stubbornly. “I don’t want to be different . . .”

  “Even if it makes you stronger?” said Melody.

  “Being stronger means they expect more from you,” Happy said wisely. “Like right here! We’re supposed to fight the ghost of a god? Come on! There aren’t enough chemical combinations in the world to make me that brave. Or that stupid.”

  Melody sniffed and turned to JC. “He may be chicken, but he has a point.”

  “I am not chicken! I am just survivally orientated!”

  “The ghost of a god is so far above our pay grade we can’t even see that far from here,” said Melody. “This is not what we do! I am keeping my machine-pistol handy in case I need to shoot myself repeatedly in the head.”

  JC looked steadily at Kim. “She may be a girl science geek with a weapons fetish, but she has a point. This is so way outside my experience, I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Good thing you’ve got me, then,” said Kim, smiling widely. “I know where to start. We start with Lud.”

  “Heads up, people!” said Happy. “Enemy forces on the move!”

  “Where?” said JC, glaring quickly about him, into the gloom between the stone trees.

  “Everywhere!” said Happy. “Whoever or whatever was following us is now closing in from all sides. I don’t see a possible exit route anywhere, and I am looking really hard!”

  They came forward, out of the dark, from every side at once. The last Druids, emerging from the shadows of London Undertowen. Thousands of them, stalking forward, as grey and dusty as the trees through which they moved. Some of them were splashed with blue woad. For old time’s sake. Human in size and shape, they no longer moved like anything human. They had spent far too long down in the Undertowen, in the dark. In the dead forest. Their flesh glowed unnaturally pale, like mushrooms. Their puffy faces held no human emotions. And their eyes were deep, dark, empty sockets, like their god. They carried weapons carved from human bones—ugly, brutal, deadly things.

  “All that remains of the original Druids, driven underground by the invading Roman forces, two thousand years ago and more,” said Kim. “The Romans built London over the catacombs, at least partly to keep the Druids down here.”

  “So the catacombs were built to contain the Druids?” said JC.

  “No,” said Kim. “The catacombs came first. They were expanded and strengthened to keep the Romans out.”

  “I’m getting seriously confused here,” said Melody, sweeping her machine-pistol steadily back and forth, to cover the nearest approaching figures. “What exactly are we dealing with here? Two-thousand-year-old Druids? Are they dead, or liches, or ghosts? They can’t still be alive after all this time, can they?”

  “They don’t feel human,” said Happy. “As such. And I can’t get inside their heads . . . It’s as though they’re all wrapped inside something. Something that reminds me very much of The Flesh Undying, and I do wish it didn’t.”

  “The Druids died out down here long ago,” Kim said steadily. “Nothing to eat and drink but each other. Must have been a bad way to go . . . They’ve been nothing but old bones for centuries, haunted by an undying hatred for those who lived on, in the world above. Now these old bones have been given new life, wrapped in new flesh provided by The Flesh Undying. So they can have their revenge at last.”

  “Revenge on whom?” said Happy. “The Romans are gone!”

  “But we are their inheritors,” said Kim.

  “So, essentially, these are the ghosts of old Druids,” said JC. “We can handle ghosts.” He stepped forward and challenged the approaching figures in a loud and carrying voice. “What is it you want? Speak up! I’m listening!”

  And all the grey dusty figures stopped moving, standing very still, right at the edge of the open amphitheatre. And when the answer came, it seemed to come from all of them at once. A single dry and dusty voice, still packed full of hatred after all the centuries.

  “We will have our vengeance for what was taken from us. We will make a Wicker Man here and burn you alive in it, as a sacrifice, to make Lud strong again. We will have power and life again, and leave this place for the sun and light of the forests. We shall rule all the peoples of this land, as we did before, and we shall burn out everything that does not follow Druid ways. We shall serve Lud, and he will serve us, and it will be a glorious time of blood and slaughter. We shall take your precious civilisation and nail its guts to the old oak tree.”

  “Long-winded buggers, aren’t they?” said Happy. “I’ll bet they’ve been rehearsing that for ages.”

  “Your time is over,” JC said steadily, to the dusty figures. “You must know that; or what are you still doing down here? You wouldn’t even recognise the world above, now.”

  “With Lud awakened and empowered, we shall leave the Undertowen and rise up,” said the mass whispering voice. “We shall set bale-fires from one end of this island to the other, and delight in the screams of our enemies as they burn. We remember what it is to be Druid; and we will make the world remember.”

  Happy moved in beside Kim. “You brought us down here. You must have a plan. How are we supposed to stop this?”

  “You can’t,” said Kim.

  “What?” said Happy.

  “Our only chance is to make a deal with the ghost god Lud.”

  “Everyone stand back,” said Happy. “I’m going to dig a way out.”

  “Stand still,” said JC.

  “I need another pill,” said Happy.

  “I don’t think the whole of the Carnacki Institute working together has enough power to deal with the thing sitting on that throne,” said JC. “We can’t fight a god, and even if we did . . . Hold it. Hold everything. Fighting . . . is what The Flesh Undying wants. It wants us to fight because it knows we can’t win. That’s why he enfleshed the Druids—to distract us!”

  “Trust me, it’s working,” said Happy. “I am feeling very definitely distracted.”

  “So let’s try talking,” said JC. “Not with the dead Druids. All they have are old grievances, old hatreds, that they’d rather die than give up . . . Happy, can you make mental contact with Lud?”

  “Not on the best day I ever had!” said Happy, loudly. “That may be only the ghost of a god, but they key word there is still god! My brains would boil in my head and leak out my ears. Unless . . .” His voice trailed off as he looked around at the others, his brows falling into a serious scowl. He took out a silver pill box. “I suppose . . .”

  “No!” Melody said immediately.

  “Yes,” said JC. “Sorry, Melo
dy; but we need our team telepath firing on all cylinders.”

  Happy had taken a single pill out of the box, a long yellow-and-green-striped one. He rolled it back and forth between his fingertips, studying the pill thoughtfully. “Now this . . . is the good stuff. I distilled it from some weird esoteric chemical traces I found in Chimera House, left behind by the passing of the New People.” He looked at Melody. “You never did appreciate my talents as a chemist.”

  “Happy,” said Melody. “Please, don’t . . .”

  “It won’t put me in the same league as Lud,” said Happy. “Not even close. But it should hold me together long enough to get his attention.”

  Melody glared at JC, her voice cold and fierce. “You don’t care whether he lives or dies, as long as he gets the job done!”

  “I care,” said JC. “But the job has to be done.”

  “This isn’t about the job!” said Melody. “This is all about your getting Kim back! Your unnatural girl-friend!”

  “Right now,” said JC, “Kim, and what she knows, is the job. Because what she knows about The Flesh Undying might be enough to save the whole Earth, and everyone on it.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Happy said cheerfully. He dropped an arm across Melody’s shoulders, ignoring the stiff rejection he felt there. “We have to do this. We can’t get out of here, we can’t win the fight, and we don’t have any kind of future . . . as long as The Flesh Undying is still out there. We have to work together to do this, all four of us. Like we did before, remember? And I have to be able to control the contact we’re about to make with the ghost of a dead god. And that’s a sentence I didn’t expect to be saying when I got up this morning. You mustn’t worry, Melody. Really. The pill will keep me sane. Or at least sane enough that you’ll still be able to shout at me afterwards.”

  “If you want to help Happy,” said JC, “you need to work with us, Melody. Be his anchor; root him in the real world. Give him something to come back to.”

  “There will be harsh words later,” said Melody, nodding reluctantly.

  “No change there, then,” said JC. “Do it, Happy.”

  Happy hesitated, then took out several more pill boxes. He spilled the contents onto his palm, rolling the multi-coloured pills back and forth, as though judging the best possible combinations, and the most bearable side effects. JC leaned in close beside Melody.

  “Did you know he had that many pills on his person?”

  “Of course not!” said Melody. “And he didn’t stop to load up before we left the apartment. Which means he must have been carrying them around for some time. Must have been planning to use them, for some time. Why didn’t I notice?”

  “Because he didn’t want you to,” said JC. “He didn’t want you to worry. And I think he’s been waiting for the right moment, or the right excuse, to start using them again. Being a junkie comes as much from the soul as the body.”

  He moved over to stand before Happy, who was bouncing lightly up and down on his toes, in a thoughtful sort of way. He put away all the pills but one, the original striped pill. And then he smiled easily at JC.

  “This can only go well,” he said, and swallowed the pill. All the colour dropped out of his face at once, and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead.

  “Damn . . .” he said. “The dosage in that one is so strong it starts working almost before you take it.”

  “How do you feel?” said JC.

  “Good, good, good . . .”

  “What’s in that pill?”

  “A bit of this, a lot of that, all of it entirely illegal, unethical, and unnatural,” Happy said rapidly. “Does you good on a spiritual level, with only the slightest chance that my liver will dissolve.”

  “Are you sure you can link us all, to make contact with Lud?”

  “Of course! Piece of cake. Don’t worry, JC. Over-confidence is all part of the ride. I couldn’t Do Something this dangerous and this scary if I were in my right mind; and neither would you. I’m not enough, you see, on my own. Never was. I need something to lean on. For a while that was Melody; but I always knew that wouldn’t last.”

  “She didn’t know that,” said JC.

  “Yes, she did,” said Happy. “I’m a telepath, remember?”

  He reached out and pulled them all together. Four minds, not merged, but working in tandem. All their eyes burned golden in the gloom, then their whole bodies blazed with light. The Druids fell back, slowly and reluctantly, retreating into the protecting shadows of the stone forest. The four Ghost Finders, the living and the dead, turned to face the throne; and the dead god slowly lowered his head to look down on them. The Druids cried out, to see their old god move, for the first time in centuries. When Lud spoke, his voice reverberated in the heads and in the souls of all who heard him.

  “At last,” said Lud. “A voice calls out to me. A human voice . . . I remember the way things used to be, when all of Britain bowed down to me and burned for me. Life and death at my command, and at my whim. Worship to sustain me and purpose to give me a reason to go on. But all that passed, and I fell away, to become so much less than I was. Now . . . I see the world above, and I see a world with no room in it for such as me. And there is nothing down here that I would wish to be a part of. So let me go. Break the chains that hold me to this city, this London, that I no longer recognise nor understand. Let me go wherever gods go when they die.”

  “Fair enough,” said JC. He gathered up all the strength generated by the binding of the four Ghost Finders, locked in harness with him, and reached out in a direction he could sense, if not understand. A great Door appeared in the amphitheatre, beside the great throne. A Door into the Hereafter. And Lud stood up. He reached out a huge grey hand and ripped all the flesh off the Druids watching from the stone forest. The given flesh flew away from the old bones, burned in mid air, and was consumed long before it ever reached Lud. The new flesh that The Flesh Undying had provided . . . gone in a moment, leaving nothing behind but old bones, lying scattered on the forest floor. Lud had taken the flesh of his worshippers and burned it in sacrifice to himself, to raise the power he needed, to do the thing he needed to do.

  He opened the Door. It swung smoothly open before him, and a great light spilled out, forcing back the darkness. Lud shrunk suddenly, falling in on himself in fits and starts, until he was of a proper size to walk through the Door. The light was so bright that JC and Kim, Happy and Melody, had to turn their heads aside, unable to face it. The old god paused, on the very threshold of the Door, and looked back at them.

  “I see the touch of Outside upon you all. Something reached into your world, from my homelands, and altered you according to its purposes. Something like me. That is what has made this moment possible. Like calls to like . . . and pays its debts. I owe you a debt; so call on me, one last time, when you have need . . . But beware gods bearing gifts; none of you were ever meant to burn this brightly. Be careful of what such a light attracts . . .”

  Lud strode through the Door, and it closed behind him, and was gone. The Ghost Finders fell apart and fell back into their own heads.

  When they finally got their thoughts straight again, and looked, Lud was still sitting on his throne. Or at least his body was. The shape he’d made, so he could be worshipped and adored by the little human creatures. It looked a lot more like a statue now: grey and dusty, with cracks all over it.

  “That’s it?” said Happy, rubbing at his aching forehead in a bemused kind of way. “No more trap? We’re all safe now?”

  “Yes,” said Kim. “For now.”

  * * *

  They retraced their steps, back through the stone trees, kicking bones aside as they went. Back through the stone catacombs, heading for the surface. Back through London Undertowen to the world above. JC and Kim stuck close together, or as close as they could get without touching. They talked happily together, half-intoxicated with each other’s presence. Melody made a point of walking alone, swinging her machine-pistol moodily at he
r side, staring straight ahead. Happy didn’t even notice, tripping lightly along, sorting through the contents of his head.

  “If you love me, JC,” said Kim. “If you really love me, don’t ask me where I’ve been, or what I’ve done. What I had to do, to get back to you. I will tell you, someday. When I’m ready. When you’re ready.”

  “You can tell me anything, Kim,” said JC. “You know that.”

  “Yes,” said the ghost girl. “But not yet.”

  TWO

  THE UNOFFICIAL RECORD

  Everyone else wanted to go home and get some rest. But JC was the man behind the wheel, and he insisted on driving them all the way across London, to the Carnacki Institute’s Secret Libraries. So Happy and Melody slumped down in the back seat and sulked, while Kim hovered serenely an inch or so above the seat next to JC. She had to concentrate, to keep her spirit self moving along at the same speed as the car because the physical world no longer had any hold over her. She could have teleported straight to the Secret Libraries and waited for the rest of them to catch up; but being only recently reunited with JC, she was loath to leave him even for a moment. JC stared straight ahead, lost in his own roiling thoughts. It was one thing to feel under threat from so many directions at once when it was just him, or his team; they’d always been able to look after themselves. But now that Kim was back, he felt an added responsibility. He needed information on how best to defend himself and on exactly who or what he was defending himself against. And for that, he needed the Secret Libraries.

  Often called the Unofficial Record, because the books in the Secret Libraries covered everything in the world that didn’t officially exist, or shouldn’t exist but unfortunately did.

  JC’s Boss, the redoubtable Catherine Latimer herself, had given him password access to the Libraries sometime back; and he wasn’t prepared to wait for an official security upgrade any longer. He was fed up guessing and theorising; he wanted to know. So he aimed his car like a bullet through the empty streets of early-morning London, heading for the south-east of the city and the Woolwich Arsenal. The Secret Libraries were located directly below the Arsenal itself, presumably so that if they ever came under direct attack, the Army would already be there to defend them.