02 Unicorn Rider (17 page)

‘I suppose so. But look, seriously, if you could help me, I’d like to be on my way.’

‘A finger! Look at that. Second finger, right hand.’

‘Carnelian,’ Cumulo growled, and there was enough menace in his tone to make the cyclops stop talking and take notice. ‘Tell us what we need to know, or I will bite your head clean off.’

‘No you won’t.’

‘I won’t?’

‘Infinite vision, remember? I know exactly what you will and won’t do. How are you feeling, by the way? You were bitten by the hydra, weren’t you? Nasty things, hydra bites. Very poisonous.’

‘I feel fine.’

‘Splendid. That’s all right then. I was bitten by a baby hydra once, and was laid up for six weeks. So weak I couldn’t move. Still, I’m sure a dragon is more resistant to poison than a cyclops.’

‘Carnelian,’ Nimbus said, impatiently. ‘Are you going to tell me what I need to know?’

‘I’m going to do better than that. I’m going to show you.’

‘That’s not necessary.’

‘You were kind enough to release me, so it’s the least I can do. I’ll take you right where you need to go, and then you can drop me off somewhere nice where I’ll live out the rest of my life peacefully.’

Nimbus looked at Cumulo. Cumulo shook his head.

‘I think we’d rather you just told us,’ Nimbus said.

Carnelian shrugged. ‘I’m not great at giving directions. It’s easier if I show you. Besides, I don’t really want to find my way out of these mountains by myself. I’d appreciate the ride.’

Nimbus sighed heavily. ‘Okay. Fine. Have it your way. I don’t have time to argue about it.’

‘He cannot be trusted,’ Cumulo hissed.

‘Maybe not, but I think I’d feel better knowing where he was. And he can see into the future. He can help us.’

‘Did you learn nothing from what your father told you about the history of these sad creatures? Their glimpse of the future destroyed them all. He will destroy us too.’

‘We're not arguing about this, Cumulo. He’s coming with us.’

Cumulo bowed his head. ‘Of course, My Lord,’ he said, with a hint of mockery.

‘Marvellous,’ Carnelian said, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. ‘That’s sorted then. Little bit of tension in the air, but that’s to be expected. Now, where was I? Ah yes, I was going to say, there is one small problem.’

‘And what would that be?’ Nimbus asked.

‘The unicorn has been imprisoned by the necromancer, Crow.’

‘That guy gets around,’ Nimbus muttered, kicking his heel. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had been controlled like a puppet under Crow’s demonic will, and the more he thought about it the more angry it made him.

‘He hates unicorns,’ Carnelian went on. ‘Loathes everything they stand for. Life, love, freedom, companionship. Of course, he also knows the unicorn is your sister’s familiar, and your sister is the one thing Crow fears above all else.’

‘Glass is just a little girl.’

‘A little girl with more magical power than Crow will ever have. He knew that withholding her familiar was his best chance of killing her without risking his own neck.’

‘Is the unicorn guarded?’

‘Guarded by the dead, in a place where no mortal may enter.’

‘I don’t believe any of this,’ Cumulo said, with a snort. ‘If Crow has the unicorn, why doesn’t he kill it?’

‘He doesn’t need to. Glass is dying anyway. Besides, one must be very arrogant, or very ignorant, to slay a unicorn.’

‘Which were you?’ Cumulo asked.

‘I was mistaken.’ A calculated look came into Carnelian’s eye. ‘But let me assure you of one thing, I have no intention of making the same mistake twice.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It was already late afternoon, and the shadows were growing long as Lord Citrine stepped out onto his balcony on the highest tower of Crystal Shine palace. The wind was fresh and sharp, and he pulled his woollen cloak tightly around his shoulders as he looked on the milling people far below. From this height, it was almost impossible to believe they were people at all.

He gripped the railing and breathed deeply, wondering how many of those seemingly insignificant people would survive to see their children grow old.

‘What are you doing?’ Lady Citrine asked. As she walked to him, the circle of diamonds in her hair winked in the light of the setting sun, and her elegant silver–embroidered dress billowed. Her bare feet made no sound.

‘Just thinking,’ Lord Citrine said. ‘Wondering if it is right to build a tower tall enough to stand above the troubles of the people.’

Lady Citrine stood beside him. Her hand rested on his arm. ‘We will never be above their troubles, as long as we remember to look down.’

‘I have lost sight of what I was here to do. I have been carried so far above the crowds that I no longer understand the needs of the people. I have become everything I was supposed to prevent.’

Lady Citrine smiled. ‘You have done what you have always needed to do. You have been my husband. Leave the rest to me.’ She kissed him on the cheek, and walked back into the tower, closing the door quietly behind her.

Lord Citrine shivered, and looked out across the roofs and spires of his great city. Outriders were returning to the palace daily with reports of foul things in the wilds and forests of the North; villages in the East were under attack from creatures that had, until only a few months ago, been nothing more than campfire stories; the Forbidden Woods were overrun with goblins; wyverns had attacked Landmark during the village’s annual derby; and who knew what creatures hid from sight in the unknown regions beyond the Sanguine Mountains?

A war was coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was sit in his fabulous palace, surrounded by his fabulous treasures, and wait to be crushed by events that were outside of his control.

***

At the same time, even higher than the glittering peak of Crystal Shine’s tall tower, a red shape slashed through the clouds, propelled by the thunderous flapping of gargantuan wings.

‘Where are we going?’ Carnelian asked, looking over the side of Cumulo’s neck at the rooftops and chimney stacks sprawled beneath them.

‘You’re the one with the infinite vision,’ Nimbus said. ‘You should know where we’re going.’

‘Actually, that’s not strictly true. I don’t know because I haven’t looked.’

‘I thought you could see everything?’

‘I can. But I’m no fool, Nimbus. I have spent a long time burning in the fires of the altar, thinking about what I have done. Infinite vision wiped out my entire species.’ The look in his eye became distant and thoughtful. ‘It showed me a lot of things I never wanted to see. So now I try not to look.’

‘You can stop your visions?’

‘Not really, but if I can concentrate hard enough, I don’t see them. Just as I chose what you saw in the blade of the Wing Warrior sword, so too can I choose what I will allow myself to see. Most of the time I am happy to be blind.’

Cumulo sniffed theatrically, but said nothing, concentrating instead on the green smudge of the Forbidden Woods and the toothy Grey Mountains beyond. He didn’t believe a thing the cyclops was saying, and he didn’t much like having to carry the stinking creature around.

‘So you don’t see the future any more?’ Nimbus asked.

‘Not if I can help it. Hey, look there. I think I see someone selling fish. I love fish. Can we get fish?’

‘No fish. What do you mean by “if you can help it”?’

‘I mean, if I can help it. The problem is, you can’t force yourself to be blind forever. The more you try not to look at something, the more you want to see. If you are sure there is something behind you, how long can you wait before glancing over your shoulder, even if you are not sure you will like what’s there? Sooner or later you have to look.’

‘My father told me the power was beyond your control.’

‘Yes, your father...’ Carnelian’s face split in a wide grin that revealed sharp, yellow teeth. He licked his lips hungrily. ‘Your father is right, to an extent. I can control the power when I’m awake. But when I sleep...’ He shrugged his wide shoulders hopelessly. ‘I do not dream any more. That was just one of the prices I paid.’

With a grunt that suggested he had heard more than enough from the cyclops, Cumulo banked to the right and began a gradual descent on the far side of the Forbidden Woods, in a place where old crumbling walls and storehouses told the ghost story of a mighty fortress that had once stood proudly in the shadow of the Grey Mountains.

Cumulo landed in a clearing next to the broken remains of a tower, staggered slightly, wobbled, then stretched his wings to regain balance. ‘Not my best landing,’ he chuckled, lowering his body to allow his passengers to climb off. His scales changed from red to silver–blue, with streaks of a sickly green.

‘What is this place?’ Carnelian asked.

Nimbus glanced around the ruins expectantly. ‘An old friend lives here... In a way.’

‘In a way?’

‘He doesn’t exactly live.’

A flicker of motion and light played around the doorway of the watchtower. ‘Nimbus,’ a hollow voice exclaimed. ‘Nimbus, dear boy. And Cumulo too. Can you both see me this time?’

A section of the gloom inside the tower detached itself from the rest of the darkness, and suddenly an armoured soldier was standing by the door. The last flickers of dying sunlight glinted on the visor that was pulled down to conceal his face.

‘We see you,’ Nimbus grinned. ‘You’re taller than you sound.’

‘And you’re shorter than I remember.’

‘A ghost?’ Carnelian asked.

‘Captain Spectre, of the seventy–third archers regiment, master of the watchtower,’ the soldier said, proudly. ‘And yes, I am dead, deceased, pushing up daisies. Or at least, I can only assume I’m pushing up daisies.’

‘Doesn’t know where his body is,’ Nimbus whispered to Carnelian.

Carnelian smiled.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Master Nimbus?’ Spectre asked. ‘It has been so long since I had guests, I was beginning to think you had forgotten me.’

‘It’s been a busy time,’ Nimbus said.

‘I’m sure it has, and full of adventures too, no doubt. Why don’t you sit down and tell me all about it?’

‘I’m afraid I haven’t the time. My sister’s life is in danger, and only you can save her.’

‘How delightfully melodramatic.’ Spectre clapped his hands gleefully. ‘Do explain.’

‘Carnelian here will explain.’

Carnelian looked up from sniffing around some of the larger stones. ‘I will?’ he asked. ‘But I’m busy. I smell rabbit. Juicy, chewy rabbit. I’m trying to catch it without...’ He gestured with one clawed hand. ‘You know? Without looking.’

‘Is that a cyclops?’ Spectre asked.

‘It is,’ Nimbus said.

‘Thought they were all dead.’

‘They were.’

Carnelian smelled the ground, and then crawled into a patch of long grass on the outskirts of the ruins. Cumulo licked one of the hydra bites on his foreleg, and tried to think about something other than snapping off Carnelian’s silly, ugly head.

‘So what is the cyclops too busy to explain?’ Spectre asked.

‘A necromancer has kidnapped a unicorn, and he is holding her prisoner somewhere only the dead can go,’ Nimbus said.

‘Sounds like a typical necromancer trick to me. They’ve crossed so far over to the other side they no longer know if they are one of the living or the dead. It means they don’t have to play by the rules of either.’

‘You know about necromancers?’

‘I know a little. Very unpleasant individuals. Thankfully very rare. In all my lifetime I only ever met one. A twisted demon of a man by the name of Crow.’

Cumulo looked up from licking his wounds. His scales changed from blue to red. ‘I doubt you will be surprised to know it is the very same necromancer who holds the unicorn?’ he said.

‘I’m dead,’ Spectre said. ‘There’s very little that surprises me these days.’

‘What can you tell me about Crow?’ Nimbus asked.

‘Nothing you haven’t been told before, I suspect.’

Nimbus took a seat on a flat piece of rock. ‘Tell me anyway,’ he said. ‘The more I know about this necromancer, the more chance I have of stopping him.’

Cumulo plodded over and sat beside Nimbus, and even Carnelian re–emerged from the long grass to squat quietly within hearing distance.

‘Legend tells that Crow was a talented magic user who used his gifts to bring good fortune to the people of his village, and worked hard to protect them from the evils of the world,’ Spectre said.

‘That’s not the Crow I know.’

‘Indeed. He fell in love with the daughter of a rich lord who was fearful of magic, who refused to allow his daughter to be married to Crow. So, one night, Crow used his magical power to sneak into the castle of the lord, and to steal away the daughter. Somehow the alarm was raised, and as they escaped, the girl was hit by a stray arrow. She died in Crow’s arms.

‘Sometimes it is possible to love someone more than we should, and that was true of Crow, who loved the girl too much to let her go. He carried her back to his home in the village, where he used his vast knowledge of the natural magic of the world to drag her spirit back out of the void. Unfortunately he succeeded, but the thing that woke up in his house and started to paw at him with decomposing fingers was no longer the girl he had loved. She was a terrible dead thing driven mad by what she had seen of the horrors lurking on the other side.’

Nimbus swallowed hard. He too had died and been brought back from the endless hereafter. Was he still the same person he had been before?

Cumulo noticed the concerned look in Nimbus’s eyes and nuzzled him with his snout. It was only a small comfort, but it was enough to make Nimbus smile, even if that smile was frail and full of doubt.

The sun had all but disappeared now, plunging the world into an inky twilight as Spectre continued his story.

‘Faced with the clawing monster that had once been his love, but was now reanimated flesh that barely resembled her, Crow lost his mind. He ran screaming into the street, and the villagers rushed to his aid. They saw the nightmare creature stumbling out of the house, moaning pitifully as she staggered after Crow, and though in some respects the monster looked like a girl, the villagers were consumed with fear. They burned that wretched thing until she was nothing more than ash and memories, and then they turned on Crow, chasing him out of the village and ordering him never to return.’