Call to War (9 page)

A steady rain thundered in the courtyard as Castor and Gwen helped Tanner up. Hastily, Tanner slipped the mask beneath his tunic. The mask seemed to channel his new powers and distort it into a vengeful lust for battle. It had scared Tanner; had he really called out? But neither Gwen nor Castor said anything and Tanner dared to hope that his shouts to spill blood had only rung out in his head.

He shook the others off and took hold of Rufus's arm, pulling him to one side.

“What did the mask do? What power does it have?” he demanded.

Rufus gave a thin smile. “What did it do? It brought the soldiers here. It did what you needed it to do.”

As he finished speaking, Castor pointed beyond a broken section of wall and cried out.

“Tanner! The soldiers are coming back!”

Tanner and Gwen raced up the wall steps after Castor to stand beside Rufus: In the valley, the army had turned and was now marching toward them. The soldiers stomped in the rain like an angry black smear across the landscape. Tanner saw spears and swords glinting and the varkules' hair standing up in rigid stripes down their spines. Most of the men had already crossed the stream and now the men on varkules, led by General Gor, rushed ahead of the rest. Tanner heard Gor shouting, “Faster! Move, you dogs!” He was carrying a long pole with hooked barbs on the end, like a harpoon, and human skulls shifted at his belt as he moved ever closer.

“He's collecting mementos from his victims!” Gwen gasped. “What a monster.”

“We have to get ready for the ambush now,” Tanner said, “before they spot us.”

“What's the plan, fearless leader?” Castor asked.

Tanner had to control the urge to lunge at Castor. Gwen was watching silently, fingers clasping the edge of her cloak to draw it around her body.

“Get behind the outer wall, like I said. Topple it on the first soldiers. Then we can move to higher ground.” He pointed to the tower. “The Beasts can wait for us there. We'll join them later. Gor will have lost key men, and if Varlot's with him, he'll struggle to pick his way up to a castle on a mountaintop because of the narrow paths. We'll have the advantage, and then we attack — together.” He stomped down to the courtyard and tried to smile when he reached Firepos. “I'm sorry about the mask,” Tanner murmured. “I was just trying to …” No answering message came back. She lowered her wing to help him climb up.

As Castor went to Nera, he called to Rufus, “Last chance to leave.”

Rufus hesitated, then readied his staff. Water sluiced down the curled hook at the end. Falkor tasted the rain with his tongue. “You will need my help against that army,” Rufus said. “You helped my sister, Castor: I'm with you.” Castor didn't respond, but his lip curled in a sneer.

Firepos took off, her feathers fluttering in the cold wind, and landed on the edge of the ruined stone roof of the tower. The tower's ceiling had caved in long ago, but the top floor, now thick with moss and ivy, was still intact. Gulkien flew in, and Nera crawled up, with Falkor slithering beside her. Rainwater drained through holes in the floor and down a winding, broken staircase to the floors below.

When all the Beasts were inside, Tanner said, “That's perfect. When we join them, we can fly out of the open roof and attack.”

Gwen touched her axes nervously and nodded to Rufus's hooked serpent-staff. “These soldiers are killers. Are you sure that weapon will be strong enough?”

“I think so,” he said.

“I know mine will be,” Castor said, and he drew his sword, twirling it on his palm as he paced. His dagger rattled on his belt. “They don't get to walk away this time.” He pointed at Tanner. “Agreed?”

Tanner swallowed. He could hear men shouting over the wet panting of varkules.

“No prisoners,” Castor said.

Gwen said, “Castor, just focus.”

“No,” Castor said, still watching Tanner. “I want to hear our fearless leader say it. We're not going to let them run away this time. We're going to get the pieces of the mask back and end it here.”

Their Beasts were watching at holes in the tower wall, listening and sniffing at the rain. Tanner heard the beating of Varlot's hooves coming up the mountain, and heard General Gor shouting “Move! Toward the castle!”

It was time for them to get into position.

“Come on,” Tanner said. He led the way toward the crumbling outer wall, keeping his body low. The others followed and knelt beside him. Peering through cracks between the stones, they could see the soldiers' approach. Some of them rode varkules, their striped fur glistening as jaws snapped at the air, hungry for blood.

Gwen tested the wall, leaning a shoulder against some of the stones. They didn't shift.

“Are you sure about this, Tanner?” she asked. “These walls have been here for hundreds of years, even if they are dilapidated. They were built to last.”

Tanner felt a prickle of doubt. He shoved the point of his blade between two of the rocks and twisted, but neither of them gave. And all the time, the army was drawing closer.

“Oh, great,” Castor said. “We're separated from our Beasts and stuck behind a wall that won't move. Just great. Why don't we throw our weapons down and step out to greet Gor and his men? Tear open our tunics and show them where to aim their blades?” He shook his head in disgust.

“I can use my magic,” Rufus said quietly. Already, the palms of his hands glowed in anticipation.

“I'm not sure,” Tanner said. There was something about Rufus's tricks that made Tanner feel uneasy, and the way he'd looked at Tanner when he'd worn the mask. This wizard boy felt like someone he needed to be careful around.

There was a shout from below and Gor rushed up a hill, his varkule covered in mud. Through the driving rain, Tanner saw Gor's dragon helmet raised off his face: discolored brown skin covered the right half of Gor's face, up and around his jaw. A horn curled from one of the temples, ending in a barbed hook. The mask. General Gor was wearing the other two pieces of the Mask of Death!

The mask will make him stronger
, Tanner thought.
Does he feel what I did?
Did Gor get that same rush of bloodlust? Did the world come sharply into focus for him, too, when he donned the mask? If so, Tanner knew he would be fighting a man who would stop at nothing.

Unless he crushed Gor to death now….

“Do it,” he said to Rufus. “Do whatever you must.”

Instantly, the boy leaped to his feet, his blue tunic snapping in the vicious wind. Soldiers cried out and arrows pierced the air, landing around Tanner and the others.

“What's the little fool trying to do?” Castor whispered as an arrow punctured the grass beside him.

Rufus extended his hands and held his arms above his head. A shimmering ball of blue light rose up above him. Then, with a cry of fury, he sent the ball shooting down into the men below. Arcs of light darted off the ball, exploding into the wall. Gwen scrambled back, pulling at Tanner and Castor.

“Get out of the way!” she cried, understanding what was happening.

The wall smashed into razor-sharp splinters of rock that shot out across the landscape. Men ducked and cried out as the shards of stone rained down on them, while the shimmering ball of magic rolled between groups cowering behind raised shields. There were cries of agony as Rufus's ball of magic set fire to their tunics or turned their armor glowing red with heat.

Rufus sank down to the ground beside them, his shoulders drooping but his gaze watching the chaos below.

“That's everything I can do,” he said, sounding drained.

“It's enough,” said Tanner, getting to his feet. It had caused all the chaos he'd hoped for. But Gor had survived. He stood with his feet braced in the center of the men.

“Get up, you fools!” he shouted. He glanced over his shoulder at a fresh group of soldiers with spears and pikes, bringing up the rear. Varlot was among them. He'd grown huge, his enormous bronze hooves splashing through the mud. His face looked more human than ever and his armor shone. He looked unstoppable.

“Come on, quickly!” Gor called.

Soldiers poured into the courtyard, but Tanner and his friends were already making their way up to the tower. He took his place beside Firepos and watched the rainwater pelt the soldiers' black armor, dripping from their weapons and stinking, slavering varkules. Varlot was among them, moving quickly. He appeared beside the tower, his face grotesquely human, followed by the rest of the army led by Gor. Tanner spotted the blue tunics of Hartwell villagers amongst the soldiers.
So they've joined forces.
He shouldn't have been surprised — there had been so much hate in that village. Amazingly, none of them had spotted Tanner and his friends creeping into the tower. They still had the element of surprise.

Varlot came closer, but his hooves slipped and struggled to find a hold on the rocky terrain. He stumbled to one side, his massive chest heaving beneath his armor. He sent out a curse of frustration. Tanner could see him panting with the effort. It was just as Tanner had planned: Varlot was at a disadvantage on the sheer mountainside.

Gwen and Rufus mounted their Beasts, but Castor still stood beside Tanner. “If you mess this up for us …” He didn't finish the sentence.

“We won't lose, I promise you,” Tanner said, avoiding looking at Castor. He didn't want Castor to see the passion for battle in his eyes — a lust brought to him through drinking Firepos's blood and made even stronger since wearing the mask. Tanner didn't want Castor or Gwen to discover what had happened to him, though he suspected Rufus already knew. That boy … there was more to him than naive, clumsy magic.

“Fan out!” they heard Gor shout. “Search the castle — you, into the caves! That boy has a piece of the mask. He's taunting me, bringing us here! A reward to the one who finds him!” Gor threw Varlot a glance. “Keep up!”

Castor clasped Tanner's shoulder. “Lead us, Tanner.” His mocking tone had melted away. Even Castor recognized what Tanner felt in his heart — he'd never been more ready to lead them into battle.

Tanner climbed onto Firepos's back. Nera flexed her legs, rippling with muscles, while Gulkien ground his fangs, his leathery wings poised and ready. Even Falkor seemed to be watching Tanner, eager for the fight, with Rufus on his muscular back. Tanner ran his hand along Firepos's shimmering feathers. Water sizzled in steam-bursts as it hit Firepos. More soldiers climbed over the broken wall into the courtyard below. Through the slit windows, Tanner could see that they were armed with narrow swords, crossbows, and spears.

“Find him!” Gor shouted. “If I don't find that mask, the piece he was using, I will make a new mask out of your skins!”

Tanner looked at his friends, then drew his sword. He felt Firepos's heartbeat quicken, and her feathers flared yellow-orange, brilliant and beautiful.

“We're with you,” Gwen said, her face pale.

A dim blue light started in Rufus's fingertips. Steam rose from his hands, sizzling the rain. “I'm ready,” he said.

Tanner pressed Firepos's feathers, and as she rose, he raised his sword and cried, “Now!”

From Firepos's back, Tanner leaned into the jumble of wounded soldiers, striking and stabbing. During the ambush, they had pinned the courtyard soldiers in a stampede of confusion against the ruined outer wall, but in another moment, the rest of the army would arrive, and most of these soldiers were still alive and full of panic. Tanner had to get close to Gor and the mask he was wearing. When a soldier in the pile blocked with his spear, Tanner pulled his sword back, then lunged for the man. The soldier's varkule snapped at Tanner, but Firepos lanced its head with her beak.

From Tanner's right, there was a low war cry. He looked back: Nera and Castor were on that flank, and now a mass of soldiers and villagers rushed them on foot, swarming the courtyard. Castor urged Nera directly into them, and she pounced, claws and teeth bared. She broke a hole in the center of the line, with Castor stabbing and hacking from her back. Soldiers rushed her, surrounding Castor and Nera in a circle of spears. Nera swiped, the soldiers dodged back, and when Castor batted down an incoming spear, another lanced past his face.

Blue light streaked by, hitting the soldiers on Nera's left, and they exploded in a sudden cloud of burning armor, blood, and black-stone spray. Another beam shot high in a trail of steam. Rufus was shaking on Falkor's back, his jaw set, the veins in his neck taut like tense ropes. His hands were glowing again. Falkor flicked the rain with his tongue, and when a soldier rushed past Nera, closing on them, Falkor snapped forward, then back. The soldier slumped and went down, his neck broken.

“Look out, Tanner!” Gwen shouted.

A crowd of villagers in blue tunics surrounded Firepos, three with crossbows aimed at her. She beat her wings: one tripped, Tanner tackled another, and Gwen sent her ax spinning into the third villager's chest. Tanner rolled with the villager over the slippery stone, and as the man's crossbow shot into the air, Tanner shoved his sword into the man's shoulder. Tanner saw an ax reflected in his blade and he rolled, yanking his sword free.

On his feet, Tanner spun. Worrick whipped his ax at Tanner's throat, but Tanner blocked, his sword scraping down the other man's blade. The force shook Worrick's whole body, but Tanner's sword held. The blow should have knocked Tanner down, but his feet stayed planted where they were and he could feel his muscles working hard as he leaned into the attack, bringing his face close. Worrick's eyes were wide, confused.

“What's happened to you?” the man managed to gasp. “You once told me you didn't want to fight, and now you can't wait to kill me!”

In reply, Tanner yanked the sword down hard, shoving the ax into the ground, and he punched Worrick in the gut. Worrick stumbled, raised his hands — “Wait!”

Tanner hesitated, resisting the bloodlust that coursed through him. Worrick was at his mercy — fear burned in his eyes. Tanner wanted to kill him.
It's because of the mask
, Tanner thought. Fighting the urge to kill, he smashed his sword hilt against Worrick's temple, knocking him out cold. But the fury still raged through him.

Looking back, over the heads of the villagers and soldiers, he saw Firepos watching him. Tanner's sword, his hands, even his chin were smeared with blood. A soldier came at Tanner from behind. Tanner spun and caught the man's wrist to stop his sword, but the force knocked Tanner backward and the soldier's blade was at his throat. Firepos's shadow loomed over them. She beat her wings and threw the screaming soldier over her back. Tanner shoved the villagers aside, and as he reached for Firepos's wing, Rufus shouted, “Stand back!” as a blue beam exploded between them. The scream of hot stone and rainwater threw Tanner backward. He glimpsed Rufus's face, frozen in horror — and Tanner landed in a deep puddle of gray-red water that convulsed with raindrops. He picked himself up, his hand brushing someone else's fingers: a severed hand. Tanner rolled the other way, toward a dead varkule, and as he stood, armored soldiers rushed him with spears and swords.

“Where's the mask?” one of them cried. Tanner had to resist the urge to feel his tunic, make sure the mask was still hidden there.

“Go help Castor!” he shouted to Rufus.

The men were drawing closer. He flashed his sword to parry a blade, spun, and kicked it out of the soldier's hands, then drove his sword at the man. More spears lanced behind him and Tanner dove, pulling his sword free. The soldier went down clutching his chest.
He never had a chance
, Tanner thought.
Not now that I've worn the mask.

A club hit Tanner's sword, knocking it away. The soldiers scattered. Varlot, his bronze armor streaked with rain, stepped over Tanner. Varlot's skin was tight with muscle under his armor. There were no scars or marks, nothing from their last fight. Varlot's club was studded with jagged, irregular points, like tiny blades. Tanner found his sword in a pool of bloody rain.

Varlot's voice rumbled and wheezed. Tanner heard words in the noise: “Not so fast, are you?”

On Tanner's right, past a mass of soldiers, Castor was still fighting on Nera's back.

“I will break you,” Varlot said. The evil Beast had grown used to negotiating the rocky terrain, it seemed. As Tanner stumbled back, Varlot followed.

The pieces of the mask
, Tanner thought.
I need to get them. Where is General Gor?
He looked back.
Where?

Behind Tanner, soldiers had surrounded the others. Varlot's club snapped the side of Tanner's head, knocking him to the ground. His vision blurred, his head ringing and bleeding. When Varlot swung again, Tanner rolled under him. He caught Varlot's arm in a chink between the plates of armor near his elbows. Varlot howled and stomped. Tanner dodged a bronze hoof, but another flew past his head and grazed his face, sending Tanner spinning back. He staggered, and Varlot screamed, “Kill him! Kill that boy!”

Soldiers cut Tanner off from behind, readying their swords. Varlot swung again, and Tanner blocked, but the force threw him backward. Soldiers came at him, and Tanner dove back at Varlot, rolling under the club and swinging again. Varlot pulled back, Tanner missed, and the soldiers surrounded him.

As Tanner dodged a sword and struck back, he saw Varlot lean low to speak to a soldier — smaller than the others — who was dressed in black cloth, not armor. Fabric covered all but the slender soldier's eyes. The masked soldier darted through a gap in the fighting, toward Gwen; he half-hobbled, his left shoulder dragging lower than his right. Tanner saw white skin on his hand, like the side of a rotting fish. The masked soldier drew a black dagger and slipped into the crowd where Gwen fought beside Gulkien.

Tanner knocked the soldiers back. “Gwen!” he shouted.

She spun, confused — the masked soldier drove the blade at her chest — Gwen caught his wrist, and as he pushed her off balance, his pale hand grasped for her neck, the fingers opening and closing,
searching for the locket
!

“Help!” Gwen screamed. “Tanner!”

Tanner hit the surrounding soldiers from behind, knocking them aside with fast stabs of his sword. They landed near where Gwen grappled with her attacker. Tanner grabbed the masked soldier's shoulder but it seemed to cave in under his fingers. The flesh slipped and pulled free in Tanner's hand. A sharp, putrid smell filled the air: Tanner's hand was smeared with black clumps of skin and hair and wet, lumpy blood that congealed and dropped in blobs. His stomach heaved. Gwen screamed and wrestled with the attacker onto the hard, wet stone.

Tanner spotted a shadow and he lunged aside, and Varlot's club struck the ground in a blast of stone and bloody water. As Tanner circled, Varlot swiped again. Tanner blocked, fell backward, and rolled when Varlot stomped for his head. Hands slippery and shaking, Tanner scrambled backward through puddles of mud and blood. Tanner spotted General Gor past Varlot, on the ramparts of the outer wall.

“You die,” Varlot rumbled. “Sport for crow and worm.”

Varlot attacked again, Tanner dodged, tried to hit him, but in a flash of hooves, Tanner was forced back, panting.
He's too big
, Tanner thought.
Too fast. I can't get close enough to hit him. What if I put on the mask?
Tanner's fingers brushed his belt, where the piece was hidden inside his tunic.
No. What if I put it on and never want to take it off?

Lightning flashed and a shadow appeared behind Varlot. Nera slammed into him with Castor on her back, and as Nera jumped away, Castor called, “Tanner!” and lobbed a spear. It struck the dirt at Tanner's feet.

“Press forward!” General Gor called. The two adjoining pieces of the mask clung to the left side of his face and chin, like skin with the color burned from it.

Soldiers rushed to cut off Nera. Tanner put his sword away and grabbed the spear in both hands. Near the castle, Falkor and Rufus were surrounded; behind Tanner, Firepos still fought; and Gulkien snarled near Gwen to keep the soldiers away as she struggled with her masked attacker.
No time
, Tanner thought. “Varlot!” he called.

Varlot's voice rasped, “I enjoy —”

“No more.” Tanner jabbed the spear, but Varlot batted it aside. Tanner twisted the spear free and stabbed again: He hit Varlot's chest armor with a
clink
that drove Varlot back a step. Tanner stabbed again, but Varlot blocked once, twice, and on the third thrust, Tanner drew his sword with one hand and lunged, driving it into Varlot's wrist.

The blade cut deep. Varlot bellowed, dropped his club, and Tanner ran the spear into the base of Varlot's mask. The armor-edge cut against the spear so the point sliced wide in a bloody gash, and as Tanner moved in with his sword, Varlot's body contorted, shrank. The human part — his arms and chest — were sinking in, becoming a horse's neck, and his faceless mask stretched long into an animal head.
He's wounded
, Tanner realized.
He's losing his strength, shrinking. But for how long?
Tanner was all too aware of Varlot's ability to heal himself.

Varlot punched, and when Tanner ducked, he jabbed his spear left. Varlot dodged right, into Tanner's sword. The blade sliced through the rain toward Varlot's exposed neck. Tanner was about to defeat this evil Beast once and for all, when the world flashed white. Fire flooded Tanner's skull.
Firepos!
Something was happening to his Beast. Tanner heard himself screaming as he fell to his knees.

Blinking through the pain, Tanner saw Firepos on the outer wall, facing General Gor. The general raised his barbed harpoon into the rain and shouted a wordless war cry. Firepos writhed, as if something had lodged under her wing in the scar, where her feathers had been ripped — as if it were dragging her down.

It's the old scar. It pains me again.
Tanner could see his companion struggling to spread her wings, failing to hook the general with her beak. Despite her great size, she looked suddenly vulnerable as her feathers turned to a dull brown. The light in her eyes grew dim and fresh pain throbbed in Tanner's head. Somehow, Derthsin had sent his evil power to hurt Firepos — and Tanner, too. Just in time to help them lose this battle.

Across the space between them, Tanner looked into the flame bird's wide, terrified eyes.
I'm sorry
, she seemed to say.