There were days he hated life, and wondered if death were a possibility.
“What can we do?” whispered Noah. “I have done everything I can. Turned every stone and peered under it, sought every opinion, from those ten thousand years dead and those still alive, seeking a solution, and yet there is nothing…nothing…”
“If you complete the Troy Game, and Grace wakes, could she then provide us with some kind of weapon—” Weyland began.
“Don’t be a fool!” Jack snapped. “Nothing will be able to touch the Troy Game once it is completed.”
“But Games have been unwound before,” Weyland said.
“This one is too powerful, Weyland,” Ariadne said softly, and Weyland turned to her, his face tight with anger.
“If it wasn’t for you—” he said.
“Stop it,” said Silvius, wondering if his entire life would be spent keeping the peace between these two. “Jack, Noah, what are our choices?”
Jack looked at Noah, and wondered who would be the one to say it first. “We have no choices,” he eventually said, “save that we either destroy the Troy Game, or we complete it, and we do not have the knowledge or the tools to destroy it. Ergo, we must—”
“Don’t say it,” said the Lord of the Faerie. Don’t say it!”
There was a short silence, then Jack spoke softly. “Noah and I will need to begin the preparations very soon,” he said. “The solstice draws near. Catling needs to see that we are preparing, and…and if we are to do this, then we need to be ready.”
Jack couldn’t believe he’d said that. The very thought of completing the Game sickened him physically and emotionally—and yet somehow imparted a sense of relief. If he completed Catling, then the death and horror would cease.
“Grace is the key,” said Malcolm from his doorway. “She and the White Queen.”
“Grace is lost to us!” Jack shouted, half rising from his chair before Silvius put a calming hand on his shoulder. “And the damned, cursed White Queen, whoever the fuck she is, has vanished as well!”
“Jack…” Noah said quietly.
“And the shadow is no more,” Jack continued, his tone slightly less aggressive now. “We have nothing left. Nothing.”
“Not to mention the final two kingship bands,” Ariadne put in helpfully.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” Jack said, his voice now horribly tired, “have you nothing positive to contribute to this conversation?”
“Well,” said Ariadne, “surely someone needs to point out to you, Jack, that without those final two bands you can’t even complete the Troy Game.”
Jack leaned his head back against his chair, and put a hand over his face. “Will someone please make a helpful suggestion?”
“Jack,” said Noah, “you made those diamond bands for Grace. They are magic. Can you not use those?”
“They’re gone, too,” said Jack. “Gone to wherever Catling has incarcerated Grace.”
Another momentary silence. Everyone capable of it—the Lord of the Faerie, Ariadne, Jack, Noah—had looked for Grace wherever they thought she might be: trapped in this world, or in some forgotten corner of the Faerie, or wandering the paths of the Otherworld, and yet she was nowhere. Catling had taken her to a place no one could discover.
“Can’t you make some more bands?” said the Lord of the Faerie.
Jack’s face twisted, but Ariadne spoke before he could answer.
“It isn’t that simple, Faerie Lord. A new set might be made, although we have neither the time nor the resources for that to be done—we’d need the original Great Founding Labyrinth, not a re-creation of one, to do it. But replacement bands? No, especially not for a set as important as the kingship bands of Troy. Jack needs to use the same bands he started with. The same set, not a combination of four of the original ones plus two new.”
“So are you saying,” Weyland said, “that we can neither destroy nor complete the Troy Game?”
“That would be about it,” said Jack, and let the bleakness overwhelm him.
FOUR
December, 1940
GRACE SPEAKS
Iremembered something. I should have remembered it earlier. Sometimes I am very stupid.
When I went with Ariadne so she could further my training in the arts of the labyrinth, Catling struck me with agony the instant I stepped inside Ariadne’s front door. The violence of the attack crippled me, and I know that Ariadne thought her re-creation of the Great Founding Labyrinth, which she’d set up in her drawing room, was close to killing me.
Then Ariadne had called to me. Use the pain, Grace. Use it to concentrate your mind and power! I had.
I used the pain. The pain still existed, but it did not trouble me; indeed, it became a valued asset, fuelling my concentration.
Very good. You should have remembered that earlier.
She was back, and my moment of hope evaporated.
I don’t know why I try to help you, Grace. You are stupid on occasion.
I tried to marshal what vestiges of intelligence I had left. The trouble was, I could not believe what my intuition screamed at me.
I could feel her watching me, keenly, and I felt a terrible flash of embarrassment at the things I had said to her.
“You’re not Catling,” I whispered. “My gods, who are you? Who are you?”
The terrible visions still swam before me, but I realised that while Catling may have sent me to this hell, she hadn’t followed me here.
She had, after all, more important things to do.
Who are you? I said, now using my power.
Never mind that for the moment. Remember only what you were considering before I disturbed you.
It was difficult, for all I wanted was to discover who this cold-faced woman was, but I managed to turn my mind back to the original problem. I had used Catling’s torment when Ariadne had thrust me into the Great Founding Labyrinth to concentrate my mind. Not only that, I had literally used it as a power source.
Ah, I breathed, relief and hope flooding through me. I can use this hell, too. How stupid I am, indeed.
She smiled, this creature who stood just within reach of the corner of one eye, and I felt from her a glimmer of sheer happiness. She didn’t say anything, but that glimmer was enough.
I laughed, and, summoning my power (why had I forgotten it? Was despair truly the greatest enemy a person had?), began to bend this overwhelming cacophony of images and memories to my will.
Show me what I need to know, I commanded.
Everything changed.
FIVE
Epping Forest
Monday, 16th December, 1940
Noah stood bathed in moonlight under a tree in the forest just north of Faerie Hill Manor. Jack thought that if it wasn’t for the terrible expression of hopelessness on her face, she would never have looked so beautiful.
“You know,” she said, “you and I have never talked about Grace. What you and she, um…what your…” She stopped and, remarkably, blushed.
Jack almost managed a smile. “What my intentions are, Noah?”
She looked embarrassed. “Yes.”
“Strange that you and I should be having this conversation.”
“It is certainly a long way from our initial conversation in Mesopotama.”
They both thought about that for a while, their first disastrous life together.
“It is strange how life turns out,” Noah said eventually, and Jack gave a short laugh.
“Aye, that it is. I remember when I first heard you’d given Weyland a daughter. I was so furious. So furious. I could never have imagined what that daughter would come to mean to me.”
Noah waited.
“I have treated you so badly, life after life,” said Jack. “This time around being no exception. I was angry at first because I’d convinced myself I could win you away from Weyland, then discovered that wasn’t possible. And then Grace began nibbling away at all my preconceptions of her, and, one day I woke up—probably with a push from Malcolm—”
Noah smiled.
“—and realised I loved her, and that love was a peaceful thing compared to what I felt for you.”
“But better.”
“Yes. You don’t mind?”
She shook her head. “I don’t begrudge my daughter your love, Jack.” She paused. “Although it took me some time to come to terms with it.”
“And that’s my fault. I could have let you know in an easier manner than I did.”
“Jack, we have spent all our lives in an eternal cycle of love and anger and apology. Can we break that cycle now?”
“You don’t want me to apologise?”
“No. I…I just want you to save Grace, and this land, and the Faerie, and me besides.”
“Oh, well, thank the gods for that. I thought you were going to demand something hard from me.”
Noah tried to smile, but sudden tears glittered in her eyes.
Jack pulled her gently into his arms, and held her close. “Noah, this isn’t much, but—”
She pulled back. “What?”
He hesitated, and his uncertainty frightened her.