Always Forever by Mark Chadbourn Page B

of her eye
while she chewed on her dry toast, trying to see any signs of the melancholy that
had debilitated him too many times in the past. "Creeping death is the last
thing we need to worry about. Everything could be over in the blink of an eye."
    "You're right." He stood up and stretched.
    "I always am. You should know that by now. It's my hobby." She finished
her toast and tried to ignore the rumblings that still came from her belly. "We
need to decide what we're going to do with Callow."
    Church cursed under his breath. "I'd forgotten about that bastard."
    "We could execute him." She appeared to be only half joking.
    Church forced a smile that faded quickly. "We can't leave him here. These
people have enough problems without a psycho like that around. And if Ryan
and Tom are still alive he'll just go after them-"
    "We can't take him with us!"
    "We don't know we're going anywhere yet. If we do find the ship, we might
be able to do some good for him. I'm going to try to get the Fomorii shit cleaned
out of my system. Maybe we can do the same for him-"
    "Do some good!" she said incredulously. "The bastard murdered Shavi!
Almost killed Laura." She showed him the gap between her fingers.

    "I know, I know." He waved her protestations away. "But still. Keep your
friends close and your enemies closer, they say."
    Ruth grunted in grudging agreement, but as she rose from the table she
muttered, "I still think we should execute him."
    "You sound more like Laura every day."
    The morning was brittle, but filled with the warmth of a good summer. The air
had the salty tang of seaweed and fish. In the daylight, Mousehole was quaint
and comforting, hunkered up against the rugged Cornish coastline. Church and
Ruth herded Callow along the deserted seafront, the half-man keeping his
peeled-egg eyes away from the brilliant light of the sun. Church was disturbed
how the creature had begun to grow into his new form; his manner of walking
had become almost insectile in the way he skittered in and out of the gutter, a
little too fast, a tad too angular.
    "You make a bolt for it, I'll boil those freaky eyes out of your head," Ruth
said calmly. "You know I can do it."
    Church eyed her, not sure if it was within her new powers, which were as
mysterious to him as the sea, a feeling she did nothing to dispel. Callow flashed
her a brief glance that suggested he would kill her, given half a chance.
    "What do we do when we get there?" Ruth asked.
    "We call out for the ship to come to us." It sounded so stupid, he winced.
He wished Tom were there. Despite the Rhymer's brusque and generally
unpleasant manner, Church missed his wisdom and his knowledge about all the
new, strange things that had found a place in the world.
    The information they had found in the pub pointed them in the direction
of Merlin's Rock. As Callow scuttled ahead of them, Church couldn't shake the
ludicrous image of the world's most bizarre couple out walking their dog.
    Ruth glanced at the white-rimmed waves before flashing a teasing smile at
Church. "Better get calling, then."
    "Your trouble, Ruth, is you're too straitlaced to let yourself go," he said
wryly. "You should unbutton a little."
    "I'll take that on board, Mr. Black Pot."
    Callow started to edge away, sure the others couldn't see his subtle movements. Church grabbed the collar of his jacket and hauled him forward so he
teetered on the edge over the choppy waves. "Enjoy the view. You might never
see it again."
    "You can't make me go!" Callow protested.
    "I can't make you swim, either, but I can put you in a position where you
have no choice."

    "You don't understand! Those wretched golden-skinned creatures will
detest everything about me. They'll make me pay for what the Night Walkers
did to me, and it's not my fault!"
    "They don't care too much for me either," Church replied. "Thankfully I
don't give a toss what those inbred aristocrats think. They might believe they're
better than us,