Seventh Circle - Page 110/148

He reached the gully and followed a narrow path into it. The frost had not penetrated the overhanging branches and the ground was green with moss and ferns. A stream trickled between boulders and the path ran amongst them. Crudely fashioned stone faces stared out from behind tree stumps. Oddly shaped icicles hung from branches.

There was something deeply moving about the place, something mystical. Tom was reminded of his childhood, of walks in the forest and playing in streams. He let his mind wander and a strange force propelled him along. Images from his past invaded his consciousness. He heard his mother scolding him for some childish misdemeanour. Moments later his teachers were reprimanding him. Voices nagged incessantly, each giving way to the next, each more recent than the last, as if he was growing older with every step.

Rounding a bend he heard crisp, military voices. They were questioning him about his unconventional ways of tackling delicate problems. He gave the answers he had always given and heard the voice of his commanding officer telling him he could resign his commission or face another court martial.

Another twist in the path and other sounds thrust in upon him: the irritating sounds of academia. He blocked them out only to be confronted by a voice he could not dismiss. Molly Campbell was telling him to have no further contact with Alison.

Suddenly the voices ceased. He had reached a small clearing. Frost covered the ground and all was white again. A statue stood there. The figure of a man with two heads. One faced towards him and the other faced back. Tom recognised it at once. The statue was a Janus figure and represented all things past, present and future. The head facing him looked into the past.

There was something mocking about the statue. A thick layer of frost covered the thin lips, distorting them into an idiotic grin. Tom had the feeling the grin was meant for him. He adjusted his sword harness. The statue seemed threatening. Or, was it questioning him ... making him stop and think about the future?

The thought crossed his mind and he remembered something the queen had said about his soul light.

'Where was it going?'

He had always prided himself on not being religious, except for social purposes. Yet, the old woman's question had lodged in his mind. He looked at the statue and wondered what the other side had to offer.

A few more steps took him from the present into the future. Voices chanted his name, adding it to a list of heroes from the past. A shudder ran down his spine. He remembered Molly Campbell taunting him about his fascination for the hero god.