02 Unicorn Rider (18 page)

‘That’s horrible,’ Nimbus said.

‘Crow was never seen again in the village. He moved up into the Sanguine Mountains where he learned to extend his life beyond the natural span of a normal human, and where he put all of his art and intellect into becoming a necromancer. His one aim was to perfect a technique that would bring his true love back from the dead. Perhaps even now that is all he wants.’

‘He wants more than that,’ Nimbus said. ‘He wants to conquer all the realms, and he intends to do it by killing off the people who might be able to stop him. He thought that I was a threat, so he sent Sorrow to kill me, but now he is more scared of my sister, so he’s doing everything in his power to murder her instead.’

‘It’s nice to be popular, isn’t it?’ Carnelian grinned. ‘Now, if story time is over, perhaps Nimbus would be good enough to explain to the boring dead man why we’re here, then we can get on. I thought we were in a hurry.’

‘Hurry or not,’ Spectre said seriously, ‘if this unicorn is held somewhere beyond the realms of the living then you will not be able to go there until morning.’

‘We can’t wait,’ Nimbus said.

‘You must. The night belongs to the dead and the damned. It is when their power is at its greatest. Better instead to camp here and set off in the morning.’

‘But my sister needs help now.’

‘You will be no use to your sister if the ghouls have turned you into a midnight feast.’

‘He has a point,’ Cumulo said. ‘And you haven’t slept for days. You must be exhausted.’

‘How can I sleep when my sister needs me? Every minute we waste could be her last.’

‘Listen to me,’ Spectre said. ‘You came here for my assistance. That being the case, you should listen to what I’m saying.’

Nimbus stared at his feet as he wrung his hands together anxiously. ‘You’re right. I do need help. I need someone who can go where I cannot.’

‘I thought as much. You need someone who can travel the paths of the dead. A spirit guide.’

‘Will you be that guide for me?’

‘Dear boy. You know that if I could I would assist you in any way possible. It is such a long time since I had an adventure, or even did anything useful. But there’s a bit of a problem. I’m a ghost, not one of the free–roaming dead.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘He haunts the stone,’ Cumulo said. ‘He cannot leave this place.’

‘It’s the tower,’ Spectre agreed. ‘I can’t leave it behind, no matter how much I may want to.’

‘Not ever?’ Nimbus asked.

‘Not ever.’

‘So what do I do?’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know.’

The twilight gradually turned into the deep purple of the night. An owl hooted and fluttered its wings somewhere in the ruins, dislodging a pebble that fell among the stony rubble with a clatter. Nimbus hunched his shoulders and gazed at the ground as if he expected a mole to dig its way to the surface and provide him with the answer to his question.

Eventually he looked to Carnelian. ‘Will you tell me?’ he said.

Carnelian shook his head. ‘I will not. While we travel together, your future is my future, and that is something I have no wish to see.’

‘Cumulo?’

The dragon shrugged hopelessly. ‘I do not have enough knowledge of the dead,’ he said.

‘Fantastic. Then that’s it then. We’re completely stuck.’

‘Perhaps...’ Cumulo began, but then he stopped what he was saying and tilted his head to one side. ‘Something is coming,’ he said.

Nimbus jumped to his feet, and together with Cumulo and Carnelian, he moved to the edge of the ruins. ‘Who goes there?’ he shouted into the darkness.

The only response was a cracking sound, as if something had stepped on a twig, and then an eerie silence.

‘Hello?’ Nimbus called. His hand moved down to the empty sheath by his side. ‘You better show yourself, or my dragon friend here is going to light this whole place up with a few fireballs.’

There was another crack, and then a familiar shape emerged from the gloom, antlers swaying, hooves padding softly on the rocks.

Nimbus relaxed. ‘Are you following me?’ he asked.

The stag stopped a short distance away, and flared its nostrils.

‘What do you want?’ Nimbus said.

The stag glanced back in the direction it had come from, and then stared at Nimbus.

‘What do you think it wants?’ Nimbus asked Cumulo.

‘I have no idea.’

‘That’s Sage, great stag of the Forbidden Woods,’ Carnelian said. ‘Looks like he wants you to go somewhere with him.’

The stag pawed the ground, and jerked his head towards the dark woodland.

‘You want me to go into the woods?’ Nimbus asked, moving closer.

Sage nodded.

‘You can understand what I’m saying?’

Sage nodded.

Nimbus turned to Cumulo. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think he’s come out here for a reason. You should see what it is. Besides, you’re a Wing Warrior. It’s your duty.’

‘It’s my duty to run off into the night with a stag?’

‘No. It is your duty to protect this land, and everything in it. That means all the animals as well as the people.’

‘I hadn’t really thought about that. I suppose the animals have as much right to be protected from the legends as we do.’

‘I’m not sure Sage is the type to go asking people for help, Nimbus,’ Carnelian said. ‘He was taking care of the woods before you were even born.’

‘Well, then, you tell me why he’s here.’

‘Where would be the fun in that? Better you see for yourself.’

‘Fat lot of help you are,’ Cumulo snarled.

‘Will you at least come with us to see what’s going on?’ Nimbus said.

Carnelian snorted a laugh. ‘I’d rather not, unless you were planning on eating the stag.’

Sage stared at the cyclops challengingly. He knew exactly what was being said, and looked like he would be more than happy to have the chance of giving Carnelian a good hard jab with his antlers.

‘Nobody is eating anything,’ Nimbus said.

‘In which case, I will excuse myself and try to grab one of those rabbits.’

The cyclops ambled away. Cumulo watched him leave, then growled under his breath. ‘I’ll go after him. I don’t trust him on his own.’

Nimbus patted the dragon’s neck. ‘Okay. But if I’m not back in one hour, come looking for me. Last time this stag saw me I was in the middle of burning his home down and I’m not entirely convinced I’m not about to walk into a trap.’

Cumulo headed off after Carnelian, leaving Nimbus alone with Sage. The stag pawed the ground, and then loped off in the direction of the trees, moving so quickly that Nimbus was forced to run to keep up. Minutes later, they were on the outskirts of the woods.

Nimbus paused, looking into the impenetrable darkness beneath the canopy of leaves, listening intently to the snuffling, scurrying, growling noises that filled the night. ‘In there?’ he whispered.

Sage shook his head, and padded over to a knot of thick, ugly roots that had burst up through the earth in a tangle of blackened wood.

As Nimbus moved closer he caught the scent of blood in the air, and he was immediately on guard. Maybe this was some kind of a trap after all. His heart started to pound, and once again his hand moved to rest on the empty sheath at his side.

‘You know,’ Nimbus said, his heart wedged in his mouth, ‘I’m really sorry about the whole business with the fire.’

Sage snorted.

‘It was a big accident. We never meant to cause any trouble, and if I could have helped all your little animal friends then – ouch.’

Sage butted him with his antlers. Nimbus got the message and shut up, turning his attention back to the roots. Curled up among the roots, claws bared, blood flowing from a number of gashes on its chest and back, was a small badger. It looked like there was a twig stuck between its bloodied teeth, but when Nimbus got closer still he could see that it was actually a small, spindly arm.

‘Goblins,’ he hissed. ‘Did goblins do this?’

Sage nodded, and then gently prodded Nimbus with his antlers.

‘What?’

Sage prodded him again.

‘What do you want me to do?’

Sage showed his teeth.

‘What? You want me to help it? I don’t understand. I’m not a healer. I don’t know what to do.’

Sage prodded him yet again.

‘Okay, okay. Enough already. I’ll take a look.’

Nimbus hunkered down next to the injured badger, but Sage butted him angrily, causing him to lose his balance and fall.

‘Hey!’ Nimbus shouted, as the stag shook his head. ‘You wanted me to look, so I’m looking. But I need to get him out of those roots to see how badly hurt he is. I have to move him. Okay?’

Sage backed off slightly, eyeing Nimbus warily.

Nimbus turned back to the badger, put one hand on its furry chest, and then sighed heavily. ‘It’s no good,’ he said, softly. ‘You got me here too late. I’m sorry.’

Sage looked at Nimbus very carefully, for a very long time, and then suddenly dashed off into the depths of the wood.

Nimbus waited to see if the stag would come back. When it didn’t, he reached into the gnarly roots and removed the body of the badger. It looked angry. There was an expression of violence in its dead eyes; a moment of anger and horror frozen eternally in its twisted features.

‘Poor thing,’ Nimbus said, laying the corpse to one side and using both hands to form a shallow grave in the soft earth by the roots.

Once he had patted the soil over the top of the badger’s broken body, he started the walk back to the ruins. He had taken only a few steps when something hit him on the back of the head.

He looked down to see a single acorn by his foot. A squirrel on the lowest branch of a nearby tree chittered at him.

‘I tried to help,’ Nimbus snapped, rubbing his head. ‘It’s not my fault.’

The squirrel chittered even more frantically, then dashed down the tree trunk, ran over to the acorn, and picked it up. Nimbus watched, expecting the squirrel to retreat with the acorn, but the little animal simply sat there, looking up at him and wrinkling its nose.

‘Are you trying to give that to me?’ Nimbus asked.

The squirrel made a series of unusual sounds, and bounced up and down a bit.

‘You are, aren’t you?’ He knelt, and took the acorn in one hand. ‘Were you the badger’s friend?’

The squirrel only chittered in response, twitched its nose, and then ran back to its tree.

Nimbus gripped the acorn in one fist. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘Who are you talking to?’ Carnelian said, appearing behind him.

‘I thought you were hunting rabbits?’

‘I was. But I decided to see if you had figured out what Sage wanted.’

‘He wanted my help. He wanted me to look after one of his friends.’

‘Is that so? Seems a bit unusual if you ask me. Animals tend to look after each other. They don’t exactly get on with humans.’

‘I’m telling you, that’s what he wanted.’

‘Well, you believe that if it makes you feel all important.’

Nimbus grinned in the dark. ‘Come on, Carnelian, out with it. You’re dying to tell me I’m wrong, so let’s hear it.’

Carnelia grinned back. ‘I’m more inclined to believe Sage was just letting you know that there are others fighting this war.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, he wasn’t asking for your help. He was offering you his.’

Nimbus glanced at the small grave he had made for the badger. ‘It’s going to take more than a stag and a few woodland animals to stop Crow.’

‘Just as well you have a dragon then, isn’t it?’

‘Speaking of which, where is Cumulo?’

‘I gave him the slip. I needed to speak to you and wanted to do it without him breathing down my neck. I’ve been thinking about this necromancer of yours.’

‘What about him?’

‘I think he’s driven by something more than fear or a desire to conquer the realms of men. He has tried to destroy your father, he has tried to destroy you, he has tried to destroy your sister, and he has tried to destroy your friends. These are not acts of fear or self-preservation or even domination. These are acts of vengeance.’

‘You think he has something against my family?’

‘Your ghost friend didn’t tell you the whole story. It’s a lot more personal than you realise. There is a reason why your father chose to live in Landmark once he turned his back on the life of a Wing Warrior. He knew that one day the village might be in danger, and he wanted to protect it.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘The village where Crow lived in his youth, where he brought that poor girl back from the dead, was Landmark. And the man who wielded the flaming torch that burned her to dust... That was your father.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Private Silver sat in the garrison looking up at the patch of black sky visible through the hole in the roof. Occasionally, a darting shadow, flitting in front of a star, told him that the wyverns were still up there, circling hungrily. Obsidian being dragged away by one of those things had given Silver and the other men enough time to bring in the wounded soldiers from outside, but what now? They were all still stuck here, and now the captain was gone, perhaps even dead.

The ruined garrison building was filled with the groaning of the injured men, and Silver knew that if they did not get medical attention soon, some of them would die. Without the captain around, he was responsible for them. He had to do something.

Cautiously, he looked out of the gaping doorway. A screech from above informed him he was still under observation from the wyverns, and he ducked back just in case a sharp beak snapped at him from the gloom. It was a hopeless situation. If he tried to make a run for it, he would be snatched up before he had got more than a few yards.

He looked back at what was left of the garrison. Five able–bodied soldiers, and that many again without even enough strength to stand. He needed more men.

Where was Lord Nimbus?

Where was Cloud?

***

Cloud was sitting in a small prison cell underneath Flint Lock Fort, staring at the moon from a barred window.

His fight with the spider–soldiers had been brutal and short, and he had not fared well. Never before had he fought creatures of such strength and determination. They moved so quickly, attacked so ferociously; and even hacking and stabbing at them had not seemed to slow their assault.