02 Unicorn Rider (27 page)

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Authors: Kevin Outlaw

BOOK: 02 Unicorn Rider
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Tidal shivered at the thought of what it would be like to feel those legs close around him in the blackness of the night.

‘We can’t let it go,’ he said, but as he moved to grab Obsidian’s sword, an arrow flashed through the doorway and hit the squirming thing. There was a gush of foul–smelling air, and black puss oozed over the floor. Finally those gruesome legs stopped trying to crawl.

‘Hawk?’ Tidal said.

Private Silver came into the room, carefully stepping over the hairy–legged dead thing. Behind him came three other soldiers, and a girl with a bow.

‘Is everybody okay?’ Private Silver asked.

His gaze was drawn to the corner where Strata was rocking backwards and forwards, holding Glass in her trembling arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ she kept sobbing, but Glass couldn’t hear her. Glass was already unconscious again.

Outside, masked by darkness, the rest of the silver–armoured soldiers began to advance on the house.

 

***

 

‘What are you doing?’ Nimbus asked, taking a step towards Carnelian and the unicorn.

‘That’s close enough,’ Carnelian advised him. ‘That’s a nice, new sword you’ve found, and I don’t want to have to take it off you and then give it back pointy–end first.’

Nimbus made no attempt to get any closer, but neither did he lower Venom. ‘Let the unicorn go, Carnelian.’

The cyclops shook his head. His eye shone with the forbidden knowledge of every secret the world had tried to keep within the folds of time. ‘I can’t.’

‘You’re my friend.’

‘No, I’m not. I’m not anybody’s friend. Never have been, never will be. You were the one who started talking about friendship, not me.’

‘Carnelian, that unicorn is my sister’s only hope. You have to let it go. Please.’

‘I can’t do that.’

‘Why not? Why are you doing this?’

‘You don’t understand what it’s like, being able to see what I can see. You don’t know how it feels to fall asleep and dream the destruction of your entire race of people.’

‘Infinite vision was granted to you because you killed a unicorn. You suffered because what you did was an unforgivable crime. Do you think that by killing another unicorn you can make anything right?’

Carnelian grinned wickedly, but there was still a look in his eye that suggested he was not entirely convinced his plan was a good one. ‘I don’t have to make things right,’ he said. ‘I just have to make them different.’

‘Carnelian, please. This is wrong. I know you’re better than this. You’re not the same misguided cyclops you used to be. I can see you’ve changed.’

Carnelian yanked on the unicorn’s head. The unicorn remained calm and quiet, simply looking at Nimbus with eyes that suggested she expected him to be doing something about this. ‘Do these look like the actions of someone who’s changed?’ Carnelian snarled. ‘I’m about to snap this thing’s horn off, and you say I’ve changed. I don’t think you’re paying attention.’

‘You’ve helped me. Saved me.’

‘All part of my plan. Everything has been part of my plan. I’ve had countless years burning in the eternal flame of Mother’s altar. Centuries to plot everything to the finest level of detail. Luring you to me, destroying the Wing Warrior sword, leading you here. I needed you to get the unicorn away from the vampyr. I couldn’t have got her without you.’

‘No.’ Nimbus shook his head. It felt like he had been punched in the gut, and he just wanted to sit on the floor and cry. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t have been tricked this way. ‘No,’ he said again, but there was no conviction in his voice, only the sad realisation that he had made yet another stupid mistake.

‘Sorry, Nim. You’re not a bad kid, but I can’t let you ruin my plans.’

‘But we’re friends.’

‘If I don’t take this horn, I’m going to die. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve seen it happen for hundreds of years. I see it every time I dream. And I’m not ready to die yet. I’ve only just got out of that altar, and I’ve only just got my life back. It’s not fair to ask me to give it all up again so soon.’

Nimbus felt a lump in his throat. Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes. ‘We’re friends,’ he repeated, but now the words sounded as hollows as he felt.

‘I don’t care about friends. If I break off the horn I get another wish. I can wish to live forever. It’s the only reason I came here. I don’t care about you or your sister. I just care about me.’

‘There has to be another way.’

Carnelian gripped the unicorn’s horn as tightly as he could, and braced himself. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘There isn’t.’

At that moment, the spider–soldier appeared above the mouth of the cave, scuttling down the sheer rock face in a crazy flurry of spindly limbs.

‘Look out!’ Carnelian barked, but Nimbus didn’t even have time to defend himself. With one fluid motion, the spider–soldier darted forwards and slipped its sword between the right shoulder–plate and breast–plate of the Wing Warrior armour, driving the blade deep into Nimbus’s chest.

Carnelian watched as the soldier pulled its sword free and Nimbus crumpled lifelessly.

Dark clouds rolled across the sky, advancing like ravenous monsters that swallowed the pinpoint stars one by one and plunged the world into the blackest part of the night.

The spider–soldier lurched over Nimbus’s still body, and then threw up its arms in triumph, laughing hideously.

Carnelian’s gaze lingered on Nimbus for a moment, and then drifted down to meet the unicorn’s stare. For a second the two legends looked at each other, almost as if each was reading the other’s mind, and then Carnelian sighed heavily.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and with one brutal movement he snapped off the unicorn’s horn.


CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 

 

Having one wish isn’t easy. There are so many things a single person would like, picking just one wish to be granted can sometimes be harder than never having a wish granted at all.

Carnelian had realised this the first time he had killed a unicorn. Having wrestled the creature to the ground and snapped off its horn, he really hadn’t known what to wish for, so he had tried to pick something that would be of benefit to his people. He chose the power of infinite vision, and only afterwards – after the long nights of terrible dreams, after watching his people destroyed by the dragons, and after being trapped in the hot flames of the altar in Mother’s temple – had he realised quite how foolish that wish had been.

Now, for the second time in his life, Carnelian had killed a unicorn; and for the second time in his life he had the responsibility of choosing a wish. He knew he would only have one chance to make the wish, and if he got it wrong again, there was no telling how terrible the consequences might be. So, gripping the broken horn in one hand, and still holding on to the dead unicorn’s neck with the other, he closed his eye and brought to memory something a travelling sage had once told him.

‘Time is peculiar,’ the wise man had said, mopping his brow with the end of his cloak. ‘Occasionally time can bubble, and anything trapped within that bubble will cease to age, effectively becoming immortal. Occasionally time can stretch so thin that fragmentary glimpses of the future can be seen, just as the vague outlines of a painting can be seen through silk shrouds. And occasionally, if you handle it the right way, time can be rolled backwards completely.’

Carnelian had smiled, and nodded as though he understood what the man meant; but really he just thought it was the ravings of someone who had seen too many winters. Not now though. Now he knew exactly what the sage had meant.

Carnelian made his wish.

And when he opened his eye again, things were different.

The most obvious difference was that he no longer had the broken shard of a horn in his hand. The horn was now, as it always should have been, attached to the head of the unicorn.

‘Did it work?’ Carnelian asked.

The unicorn looked up at him, blinking slowly as if to confirm that, yes, she really was alive.

‘There has to be another way,’ Nimbus said.

Carnelian’s heart skipped a beat. He had done it. He had made a wish that had altered time itself. But now he only had a few seconds to put right what he had done wrong.

He heard the scuttling of spidery legs approaching down the rocky slope. Nimbus half turned, his sword lingering by his side just a fraction too long to defend against the approaching menace.

‘Look out,’ Carnelian roared, leaping up.

There was a flash of motion in the darkness, a scream, and hot blood sprayed across Nimbus’s face as strong hands pushed him to the ground. Uncertain what had happened, or even if the blood was his, he scrambled to his feet. In the dim light of the stars, and the strange half–light that emanated from the unicorn, it was just possible to make out the still form of Carnelian sprawled on the cold ground in an expanding pool of dark liquid. Standing over Carnelian was the fearsome spider–warrior, its sword poised to deliver a stabbing blow that would certainly kill the cyclops if he wasn’t already dead.

‘Hey,’ Nimbus shouted, steadying himself. The spider–soldier turned on him. ‘Yes, I’m talking to you. You better leave my friend alone. If you want to fight, come and fight me.’

The spider–soldier seemed to consider this offer for a moment; then its four grotesque limbs curled up beneath its cloak.

‘That’s right,’ Nimbus said, ‘come and get it.’

‘A challenge?’ the soldier said, as it slowly advanced.

Nimbus wrapped both hands around the spirit sword’s handle and tried to remain calm. He was quickly beginning to realise quite how stupid he had been to bunk off all the swordfighting classes he was supposed to have had with Captain Obsidian.

‘Silly boy,’ the soldier hissed. ‘Silly boy wants to die again.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Nimbus watched as the unicorn gracefully rose up. She snorted, flicked her mane, and casually trotted off beyond the rocks at the edge of the clearing.

‘Fantastic,’ Nimbus said. ‘I saved her, and that’s the thanks I get.’

He backed off a few paces as the soldier came within stabbing distance. He knew how fast the soldier was, and he wasn’t sure he had the reflexes or skill to win in a fight. He had to find some way to even up the score.

‘Scared to fight me?’ the soldier spat, in its putrid, gurgling voice.

Nimbus swallowed hard. ‘No,’ he said, aware that it was probably the most unconvincing lie he had ever told. ‘Any ideas, Captain?’ he muttered, directing the question to his necklace.

‘Fresh out, I’m afraid,’ Spectre said.

‘Well then I hope there’s room in that stone for two of us, because this thing is going to wipe the floor with me.’

The soldier lurched into action even more quickly than Nimbus had expected. Metal grated against metal as the spirit sword flickered, turning aside the soldier’s first blow, and just managing to deflect the second. A third attack caught Nimbus on the shoulder, sending shockwaves through the Wing Warrior armour that set his teeth chattering and almost made him lose his grip on Venom. He defended a fourth swing, then a fifth; but already he was short of breath, and his arms ached.

The soldier advanced relentlessly, never seeming to tire for a second; and as it stabbed and slashed at Nimbus, it chuckled its low death–rattle laugh.

Ducking away from a vicious attack, Nimbus turned and hauled himself up onto a nearby rock. He remembered his father saying that having the high ground was an advantage, and right about now he was prepared to give anything a go.

As he climbed higher, he heard the soldier’s sword chink against stone somewhere close to his right foot, and he kicked out, yelling triumphantly when his foot struck the soldier square in the face. But in his excitement, Nimbus slipped, and tumbled off the rock. He hit the ground with a crash, and the spirit sword jumped from his hand, skittering away into the darkness.

As the soldier loomed over him, Nimbus raised his arms defensively. This was it. This time there was no Glass to use her magic, there was no Cumulo to come crashing in, there was no Carnelian with a handy tree trunk. He had never realised before how much he relied on his friends. They had always been there, protecting him, jumping to his rescue whenever he needed them, but now he was alone.

Totally alone.

It was all too apparent how useless he was on his own.

Suddenly, there was an angry roar, and a furious shape powered out of the dark. The shape attached itself to the soldier’s back, wrapping massive arms around the soldier’s head. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to kill me for hundreds of years. You’re going to have to stab me a lot harder than that,’ Carnelian growled.

The soldier staggered under the weight of the cyclops, dropping to one knee. Beneath the soldier’s cloak, the spider–legs wriggled and squirmed, but Carnelian was holding on too tight for them to unfold.

‘Fool,’ the soldier hissed, grabbing the cyclops roughly. With one powerful motion, he swung Carnelian around, throwing him to the ground. As the cyclops was pulled free, his grasping hands ripped off the soldier’s helmet to reveal the pale face beneath.

A human face.

‘Over here,’ shouted Nimbus, who had managed to recover the spirit sword. ‘You haven’t finished with me yet.’

The soldier looked at him with black, lifeless eyes that stared out from beneath a mess of dirty, brown hair. His face was drawn and thin, and his mouth was twisted into a crooked zigzag of broken teeth. ‘Watch how easy it is to kill,’ he said.

‘No,’ Nimbus screamed. ‘No, don’t.’ But it was too late. There was the revolting sound of a sword on flesh, a sound that Nimbus would never forget for the rest of his life. Carnelian gasped, his fingers clutched at the air for a moment, and then he was still.

‘Now it’s your turn,’ the soldier said.

Nimbus’s jaw was set in a straight and determined line; his blood boiled with anger. ‘Okay,’ he said, and motioned for the soldier to approach. ‘I’m not going to run from you any more. But if you want to kill me, I’m not going to make it easy for you.’

The soldier’s nasty smile widened, and then he rushed forwards. Without thinking, Nimbus threw himself into the soldier, hitting with such force that they both dropped their swords. They tumbled together, scrabbling and punching and kicking. Somehow in the tussle, Nimbus cracked his head on a stone, and his vision swam out of focus.

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