Looking like a young, pale-faced, fair-haired boy, Pan was sitting on a log playing a reed pipe, just as I remembered him. His clothes seemed to be made out of grass, leaves and bark. The face appeared human, but the ears that poked out through his long unkempt hair were elongated and pointy. I also noticed the green toenails of his bare feet. They were so long that each curled upwards into a spiral.
The Old God looked at me and stopped playing. Immediately the spell of the music was broken, and the creatures of the forest fled, while the birds soared up into the sky, making the branches overhead dance. Moments later we were alone.
He glared at me and his face began to distort into something fierce and bestial. I felt a cold dread wash over me. In seconds the boy would be gone and I would face his other terrible aspect.
‘Please! Please!’ I cried. ‘I’m Alice. Remember me? You helped me once before. Please listen to me. Didn’t mean to cause any offence, did I?’
To my relief, the change stopped and slowly reversed until I was looking at the boy once more – though his face looked very serious, without even a hint of a smile. Then it flickered with anger.
‘You assume too much,’ he snarled. ‘Tell me why I shouldn’t strike you dead on the spot.’
‘Don’t mean no harm,’ I told him. ‘Sorry to intrude without permission. Helped me once before, you did, and I’m really grateful for that. And now I need your help again. I have to fetch something from the dark, and this is the safest place I could think of to enter. Got lots of enemies here, I have. But I know they won’t dare come here because of you.’
‘But you dared! And there is a price to pay for such presumption.’
‘I’ll pay whatever you want,’ I told him, ‘as long as you don’t take away my life. I ain’t afraid to die – we all got to go sometime – but I need to give it to someone else. My life has to be sacrificed. Help me, please. I have to find a blade that’s hidden under the Fiend’s throne. Just guide me to the edge of his domain and let me escape back this way afterwards . . . That’s all I ask.’
Pan looked intrigued. ‘And why is the recovery of this blade so important?’
I had learned that I was to be the sacrifice by scrying, but later, when Tom Ward lay unconscious, recovering from his battle with Siscoi, the vampire god, I’d taken the letter from his pocket and read it several times, so that I’d remember it. I saw no reason why I shouldn’t now tell the god. After all, he already knew how we’d bound the Fiend. It was that weakening of the Fiend’s power which had made it possible for Pan to return me to the world above.
‘We need three sacred objects for the ritual that’ll destroy the Fiend for all time – the hero swords forged by the old blacksmith god. They must be present when Tom Ward carries it out.’
‘These blades are known to me,’ said Pan. ‘And they have brought much misery and suffering to humans. Which one is hidden here in the dark?’
‘Tom already has the Destiny Blade and Bone Cutter. The one I’m here to find is the one called Dolorous,’ I told him.
‘Ah, but the Blade of Sorrow is by far the worst of the three. It would be better for humankind if it were not returned to your world.’
‘But by using it we can destroy our worst enemy.’
Pan slowly shook his head and regarded me with an expression of extreme pity. ‘Foolish human – don’t you see what will happen? You may be able to destroy the Fiend, but you cannot destroy the dark, for it will always find a way to achieve balance with the light. End the present situation and a new equilibrium will develop. Destroy the dark’s most powerful entity, and another will eventually grow in power and replace it.’
These were not words I wanted to hear. Did it mean I was going to sacrifice my life for nothing? But that was for the long-term; it was the situation now we had to deal with. What happened in the distant future seemed less important.
‘If that happens, it happens, and I can’t do nothing about it, can I? But we have already attacked the Fiend and hurt him badly. If he recovers and returns to his former power, his revenge will be terrible. Ain’t just talking about me, Tom and Old Gregory – the whole world will suffer. So we got to stop him somehow. And the ritual has to be carried out this coming Halloween or it will be too late.’
Pan stared at me for a long time and my knees began to tremble. I had strong magic at my disposal, and for a moment I thought about using it, but I knew that I had no chance against one of the Old Gods in the heart of his territory. He might kill me on the spot, and all I’d done would have been for nothing.
Then he gave me a quick nod. ‘Tell me more about the ritual,’ he commanded.
‘It has to be done on a special hill in the County called the Wardstone. A forge has to be built there,’ I explained. ‘The victim must not cry out, no matter how terrible the pain. The dagger called Bone Cutter is well named – that is the blade that will cut the thumb-bones from her. If she cries out when the bones of her right hand are cut away, the sacrifice fails. After the bones have been thrown into the fire, a second cut does the same to the left hand. The other dagger, the one I’ve come to get, is then used to cut out the victim’s heart, which is cast, still beating, into the flames.’
‘You say the “sacrifice”, the “thumb-bones” and the “victim’s heart” as if they belong to somebody else. But this terrible thing will be done to you! Do you not know this?’ Pan asked me.
I nodded and, unable to meet his fierce gaze, lowered my eyes. ‘Of course I know. Detaching my mind from it is the only way I can deal with it . . .’
‘Do you think when it comes to the sacrifice that you will be able to endure the pain? When they cut the bones from your hand, your body may disobey you and cry out anyway. To be human is to be weak – for you creatures some things are simply impossible to bear.’
‘Just do my best – that’s all anybody can do, ain’t it?’
Pan nodded, and for the first time he didn’t look quite so angry. When he replied, his voice was gentler.
‘You may be foolish, human, but you are also brave. I will escort you across my land and start you on the next stage of your journey.’
We travelled in silence, Pan about five paces ahead, striding out through the trees. All was still and our journey seemed endless, for it was difficult to judge the passing of time in the dark. And that was a worry.