Nightside 10 - The Good the Bad and the Uncanny

Thorns. The interior of the church was quiet now, the lightning gone, and his presence returned almost to that of a man. “I lost my faith, so I had to find it again. And I did, here, day by day, serving this place and the stricken people who come to it. You have to fall all the way, before you can rise again. Nothing like being in charge of everything and everyone for centuries to make you an arrogant prick.” He laughed quietly at the expression on my face. “I am the Lord of Thorns, but I’m still a man, with a man’s failings. Any judge forgets that at his peril. I found my faith again, long before Hadleigh turned up to tell me what I needed to know.”
    “So why blow your top?” said Larry. “You all but blasted this church off its foundations and slammed it down again facing in a different direction.”
    “Just blowing off some steam.” The Lord of Thorns frowned. “There is justice waiting to be done, and there shall be smiting. I’ve been gone too long. The people I’ve seen here, begging for help, telling of terrible things ... The Nightside was never supposed to be like this! So mean, so cruel, so casually evil...”
    “I know some people who would agree with you on that,” said Hadleigh.
    “Hold it, hold it,” I said. “As I understand it, and I’m perfectly prepared to be told that I don’t ... there’s supposed to be a balance in place these days. You must have heard what happened when the Walking Man tried to lay down the law here. You need to get out and about in the Nightside, Lord, and talk to people, see how things really are, before you start making any decisions. Especially about the smiting.”
    “Or what?” said the Lord of Thorns. “You’ll try and stop me?”
    “I wouldn‘t,” I said. “I still remember how you protected me from Herne the Hunter and saved my life, all those centuries ago. But there are others who would stand up to you. Good people, mostly. Like the new Authorities.”
    The Lord of Thorns looked at me for a long moment, then shook his shaggy head. “Sorry. Can’t say I remember. So many years, so many faces; you know how it is. But you did awaken me from my prison of sleep, so you get a free pass. For now.”
    “How very civilised,” I said. “Can I just ask you: do you know anything about the sword Excalibur?”
    “I saw it once,” said the Lord of Thorns, smiling wistfully. “Golden and glorious, it was. Took my breath away. Why do you ask?”
    “I don’t care about any of this!” Larry said loudly. “All I care about is finding my brother Tommy! And it’s all you ought to be concerned about, Hadleigh!”
    “I turn my back on the family for five minutes,” said Hadleigh, “and now Tommy’s missing, and you’re dead. I can’t hold your hands forever.”
    “Where is Tommy!”
    “Closer than you think,” said Hadleigh.
    I really thought Larry was going to explode into a rage that would put the Lord of Thorns to shame.
    “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why can’t you speak clearly any more? And what kind of a title is Detective Inspectre anyway?”
    “A very descriptive one,” said Hadleigh.
    “You’re not my brother,” said Larry. “You don’t look like him, talk like him, feel like him. What did those bastards do to you in the Deep School?”
    “They opened my eyes.”
    I butted in, to give Larry time to control his temper. For a dead man who claimed to have hardly any emotions, I thought Larry was doing pretty well. I was beginning to feel like a referee at a boxing match where everyone else has turned out to be heavily armed. I looked at Hadleigh.
    “Why did you come here, now, to tell the Lord of Thorns who did this to him?”
    “I know what I need to know, when I need to know it,” said Hadleigh. “Comes with the job. And I’m here now because I knew you would be. I need to talk to you, too. Everything you know is a lie.”
    “What?”
    “Only kidding. I’ve always wanted to say that to someone. No, what you need to know ... is that a lot of things happening right now, in the Nightside, are the result of long-hidden plots and intrigues finally coming to a head. I’m here because I’m needed here. And ... by the pricking of my thumbs, something morally ambiguous this way comes.”
    We all looked round, following Hadleigh’s gaze, and there, standing in the doorway of the church, was Walker. Calm and composed, smiling easily, as though he hadn’t just murdered his oldest friend. There wasn’t a