'We made it!' he shouted, but the rotting deck parted beneath his feet and the dead ship swallowed him and his screams. Amaziga felt the deck move beneath her and crawled carefully to the stern where the ship touched the cliff-face. The deck gave way. Amaziga's hand flashed out to grip the rail and Luke screamed and hung from her neck. The muscles in her arm stretched and tore, but her fingers remained locked to the rail. She glanced down into the dark, empty bowels of the ghost ship.

'Hold on, Luke!' she shouted and the boy gripped her tunic. She took a deep breath, then dragged on her arm, hauling herself upwards and hooking her left arm to the rail. As her weight hit the rail it bent outwards, almost dislodging her. Swinging her feet up she scrambled on to the hull and inched her way to the cliff. Here the drop was even greater and the ruins of Atlantis gleamed like pointed teeth. She removed the leather belt from her tunic and looped it around Luke's back, tying him to her. Then she stepped to the rock face and began the long, hazardous climb.

Shannow found a concave bulge in the rocky roof where an air pocket was trapped above the bubbling water. Death was close, and much as he tried to prepare himself for the end he knew he was not ready. Rage and despair tore at him. No Jerusalem! No end to the quest of his lifetime! The rising water lapped at his chin, spilling over into his mouth. He gagged and spat it out, his fingers scrabbling at the rocks as the weight of his coat and gun dragged him down.

'Calm yourself, Shannow!' came a voice hi his mind. A glow began to his right and Pendarric's face appeared like a shimmering reflection on the stone roof. 'Follow me, if you wish to live.'

The glow sank below the water and Shannow cursed and took several deep breaths, filling his lungs with oxygen. Then he dived below the surface. Far below he could see the Mother Stone, its glow fading fast, but ahead of him floated the ghostly face. He swam towards it, ever deeper, his lungs beginning to burn as his weary arms pushed at the water. Pendarric glided further ahead to a black tunnel mouth near the cavern floor. Here Shannow felt the tug of the current and was swept into the tunnel. His chest was a growing agony and he released a little air. Panic began, but Pendarric's voice cut through his fear.

'Courage, Rolynd.'

His body was buffeted from rock to rock hi the narrow tunnel, until he could hold his breath no longer, his lungs expelled the precious air and sucked in salt water. His head swam and he lost consciousness, just as his body tumbled free of the mountain.

Pendarric's translucent form materialized beside Shannow, but the king was powerless to aid the dying man.

'Ruth!' he called, his plea roaring across the gulf of Spirit.

Shannow lay unmoving as Pendarric called again. And again.

She appeared and took in the scene in a moment. Kneeling, she rolled Shannow to his chest and straddled his back. Her hands pressed hard against the small of his back, forcing his lungs to expel the deadly liquid. But still the Jerusalem Man showed no sign of life. She jerked him to his back and lifted his head, pinching his nostrils closed. Her mouth covered his and her breath filled his lungs. The minutes pa.s.sed and Shannow groaned, sucking in a long shuddering breath.

'He will live?' said Pendarric.

Ruth nodded.

'You are tired, Lady.'

'Yes, but I have found the way.'

'I hoped you would. Is the pain great?'

Ruth's eyes met his and she did not need to answer.

'You have great courage, Ruth. Hold to it. Do not let the power of the Blood Stones overpower you. They will make you dream great dreams - they will fill your heart with the desire to rule.'

'Do not fear for me, Pendarric - such thoughts of conquest are for men. But as I draw the power from the Stones I can feel my soul contaminated by the evil. I can feel the hatred and the l.u.s.t swell within me. For the first time in my life, I understand the desire to kill.'

'And will you?' asked the king.

'No.'

'Can you stop the h.e.l.lborn in the south without killing?'

'I can try, Pendarric.'

'You are stronger than I, Ruth.'

'Wiser perhaps, and not as humble as I was. I do not want to die - and yet you were right. I cannot live with this seething force inside me.'

Take the swan's path and know peace.'

'Yes. Peace. Would that I could carry all hatred from the world with my pa.s.sing.'

Pendarric shrugged. 'You will destroy the Stones. It is enough.'

Shannow moaned and rolled.

'I will say farewell here, Ruth. It was a privilege to have known you.'

'I thank you for my lessons.'

The pupil is greater than the teacher,' he said. And vanished.

Shannow awoke on the rocky ground a half-mile from the marble ruins and found himself gazing up at the t.i.tanic. Once more it was the golden, rusting wreck he had first seen.

Then a great tear ripped along the hull and the sea gushed from her like a giant waterfall, hurtling down on the ancient city below. The torrent continued for some minutes and Shannow could see tiny bodies carried in the foaming water.

He sat up to see Ruth beside him watching the second death of the legendary ship. Tears were falling and she looked away.

'Thank you for my life,' he said lamely.

'I bear the responsibility for theirs,' she replied, as bodies continued to rain down on Atlantis.

'They fashioned their own doom,' he told her. 'You cannot blame yourself.'

She sighed and turned from the ship. 'Donna is safe, and reunited with Con Griffin.'

'I wish them their happiness,' said Shannow.

'I know - it marks you as a special man.'

'What of Batik?'

'He was wounded, but he will survive. He is a tough man and he took on the Devil single- handed.'

'The Devil?'

'No,' said Ruth, smiling, 'but a close imitation.'

'And Abaddon?'

'He is dead, Jon.'

'Did Batik kill him?'

'No, you did, Jerusalem Man. Or perhaps the Guardians did, a very long time ago.'

'I don't understand.'

'Do you remember me telling you about Lawrence and how he was at peace and happy after the Fall? How he helped to rebuild?'

'Yes.'

'And, more importantly, how he came to have visions of the Devil speaking to him and guiding him?'

'Of course.'

The Devil was here, Jon, in that accursed ship. It was the Stone and those who used it; they were the wolves in the shadows all along, getting Lawrence to feed them souls. They found the weakness in him and caused Abaddon to blossom and grow. They fed him power and kept him alive through the centuries. When you sealed that power, Lawrence became himself- a man long dead.'

'Sarento was a man with a dream,' said Shannow. 'He wanted to rebuild the old world - bring back all the cities, restore civilization.'

'That wasn't a dream,' said Ruth. 'It was an obsession. Believe me, Jon, I lived in that old world and I can tell you that there is little I would recreate. For every blessing, there was a curse. For every joy, ten sorrows. Nine-tenths of the world went short of food and everywhere there were wars, plagues, famine and starvation. It was finished before the Fall, but it was taking a long time to die.'

'What will you do now?'

'I will return to Sanctuary.'

'Is Selah well?'

'He is fine. He has~gone now, with all my people, out into the world. I sent him with Clophas; they get on well together.'

'You will be alone in Sanctuary?'

'For a little while.'

'Will I see you again?'

'I think not.' She turned back to the wreck and saw a tiny figure climbing down the mountain. 'One last favour, Jon?'

'Of course.'

That is Sam Archer's wife and son. See them to safety.'

'I will. Farewell, Ruth.'

'G.o.d-speed. Seek your city and find your G.o.d.'

Shannow grinned. 'I'll find it.'

Back in Sanctuary, Ruth lay down on her beloved sofa and drew on all the power she had ama.s.sed through the centuries. Her body glowed and grew, absorbing not only all of Sanctuary but continuing to drain the power from every Blood Stone within her considerable reach. As her strength grew, so too did her pain and a war began within her as the might of the Blood Stones met the essence of Sanctuary. Rage welled in her soul and all the forgotten moments of anger, l.u.s.t and greed flooded her being.

That which had been Ruth Welby pulsed out into the night like a glowing cloud, dispersing into the air, travelling on the currents of the night winds.

For a while Ruth fought to hold a sense of ident.i.ty within the cloud, battling to subdue the dark power of the Stones, establishing harmony within her strength.

At last she came upon the h.e.l.lborn army ma.s.sing for the final charge against the defenders of Sweet.w.a.ter. Then she surrendered to infinity, and fell like a rain of golden light upon the valley.

The h.e.l.lborn general, Abaal, sat on the gra.s.s-covered crest of a hill staring sullenly towards the Sweet.w.a.ter Pa.s.s while below him his army mustered for the charge. For two days now the ferocity of the defence had been weakening as Cade and his men ran short of sh.e.l.ls. Yesterday the h.e.l.lborn had almost broken through, but Cade had rallied the defenders and Abaal's warriors had been pushed back after fierce hand-to-hand fighting.

Today, Abaal knew, would see an end to resistance. His eyes raked the entrance to the pa.s.s where the bodies of men and horses lay bloated in the sunshine - more than a thousand young men who would never return to their homes.

The warmth of the sun made him remove his heavy black top-coat and he lay back on the gra.s.s, fixing his gaze on the defenders. The enemy too had lost many men and by rights they should have run. They were hopelessly outnumbered, and victory was not an option they had. Yet they stayed.

Abaal searched for the comfort of his hatred. But it was gone.

How could he hate men and women prepared to die for their homelands?

His aide, Doreval, rode up the crest and dismounted. 'The men are ready, sir.'

'How do they feel about the loss of their Stones?'

There is fear among them, but they are disciplined.'

Abaal gestured the young man to sit beside him. 'The day has a curious feel to it.'

'In what way, sir?'

'It's hard to explain. Do you hate them, Doreval? The defenders?'

'Of course; they are the enemy.'

'But is your hatred as strong today?'

The young man looked away, his gaze floating over the corpses on the plain. 'Yes,' he said at last.

Abaal caught the lie and ignored it. 'What are you thinking?'

'I was remembering my father, and our parting. As he lay dying, I just sat there thinking about the wealth I would have; how his concubines would be mine. I never thanked him.

Such a strange feeling.'

'Tell me, Doreval, and with truth - do you want to fight today?'

'Yes, sir. It would be an honour to lead the men.'

Abaal looked deeply into the young man's eyes and knew once more that he lied. He could not blame him; the Abaal of yesterday would have killed him for the truth.

'Tell the men to stand down.'

'Yes, sir,' answered Doreval, unable to keep the relief from his face.

'And fetch me a jug of wine.'

At the entrance to the pa.s.s, Cade watched the enemy dismount.

'What they playing at, Daniel?' asked Gambion. Cade shrugged and opened the breech of his pistol; only two sh.e.l.ls remained. He closed his eyes and Gambion thought he was praying and moved to one side, but Cade was merely trying to think, to concentrate. He opened his eyes and looked around at the defenders, swallowing hard. They had fought so well.

A long time ago - or so it seemed - Lisa had asked Cade whether he would create an army from lambs. Well, he had - and brave they were! But courage could only carry a man so far.