02 Unicorn Rider (29 page)

Even as Obsidian spoke, he knew it was useless. They were already surrounded, and there were more soldiers dropping into the street from the surrounding buildings all the time.

There was no chance of escape.

Obsidian’s men formed an even tighter circle, and Autumn took the last arrow from her quiver. ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘I have friends that are even better archers than I am.’

‘Well, where are they?’ Tidal hissed.

Autumn glanced at him, and the look in her eyes said everything that needed to be said. She didn’t know where her friends were, and she didn’t really think they were going to come to the rescue.

Strata hugged Glass close. ‘It’s okay,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s okay, Glass. Don’t be afraid.’ She ran her fingers through her daughter’s mop of uncombed hair, and rocked her gently.

An icy block of fear slid down Tidal’s spine and lodged in his stomach. He was going to die. They all were. But there was so much he had never done. So many things he should have said, and now would never get the chance.

He couldn’t allow that to happen. He couldn’t die without telling Sky how he felt.

‘Sky, there’s something I need to tell you,’ he said. ‘Something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now.’

‘I don’t think now is the time, Tidal.’

‘This could be all the time we ever have, and I really want you to know this. I need you to know how I feel.’

Sky looked at him. She said nothing.

Tidal moved closer, so that only she could hear what he had to say. ‘I just want you to know, I... like you. I don’t have anybody else in my life. I don’t have any parents, I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I don’t have anyone to divide my emotions up between, you get them all. Nobody else could offer you that, and I just wanted to... I just thought...’ He paused, noting Sky’s expression: A mixture of confusion and sadness.

Tidal’s heart broke as he finally realised that no matter what he said, it wasn’t going to make any difference. All he was doing was wasting his breath.

‘Tidal,’ she said. ‘You know how I feel about...’

‘Don’t worry,’ Tidal snapped. ‘We’re about to die, so don’t worry about it. I just thought we had a connection. I don’t have any parents. Your mum left you, and your dad might as well not be there for all the good he is.’

‘Don’t talk about my dad that way.’

‘Why not? Why shouldn’t I? It’s true.’

‘It’s not true.’

‘Here they come,’ Obsidian said, as the spider–soldiers closed in on their prey. ‘Try to stay within the circle. Don’t break ranks for any reason.’

‘Sky?’ Tidal said, reaching out to her.

‘Don’t,’ she said, pulling away. ‘Let me die my own way.’

‘Sky, I didn’t mean...’

‘Hold fast, men,’ Obsidian ordered. ‘Don’t advance on them. Don’t break the formation. Wait for them to come to you. Remember your training. Move fast, kill quick.’

Autumn took aim at one of the soldiers. Her arrow zipped through the air with a keening whistle, but somehow just went wide of the soldier’s head.

Autumn stared in horror. She had missed.

She had missed!

The soldier made a gurgling sound that was perhaps a laugh, or perhaps an attempt to speak, and then he started to come forwards. After the soldier had taken six or seven steps there was a faint whir, followed by a meaty, slightly metallic thud as an arrow punched through his neck and he toppled face–first into the dirt.

‘Hey, down there,’ shouted a voice from one of the nearby roofs. Hawk was crouching among the thatch, notching another arrow. ‘Need a hand?’

‘He came back,’ Tidal said, unable to conceal his surprise. ‘He actually came back.’

With a deafening screech, one of the circling wyverns swooped down, claws outstretched to snatch Hawk from his position on the roof; but as the wyvern came low over the houses, a flurry of arrows sprang up to meet it. The wyvern tumbled out of the sky with at least seven arrows sticking out of its belly.

‘My friends,’ Autumn grinned, as all around the village children with bows started to appear.

‘And the rest of the active garrison,’ Private Silver pointed out, spotting his colleagues darting between the houses. ‘That should even up the score a bit.’

‘Not enough,’ Obsidian said, grimly; but even as he spoke he became aware of another sound carrying on the breeze, a steady clip–clop, clip–clop, clip–clop.

When the unicorn came around the corner, being led by Nimbus in his Wing Warrior armour, Strata started to sob. She sank to her knees, her tears falling on Glass’s pale, upturned face. A mighty cheer rose up among the villagers.

At the end of the street, Nimbus drew his spirit sword. ‘Leave my friends alone,’ he shouted, and as his words fell on the assembly of spider–soldiers, Glass opened her eyes.

‘Nimbus?’ she said.

In an instant, the spider–soldiers descended on the tiny group. Arrows rained down on them from the archers around the village, but the soldiers hardly seemed to notice; they were all focused on just one aim. They were all trying to get Glass.

‘This is it,’ Obsidian shouted. ‘Watch your backs, look out for each other, and stay alive.’ And then there was no more time for words.

Swords flashed, blades clattered on armour, arrows zipped and twanged, and bones crunched sickeningly.

Without warning, one of the soldiers who had been lurking on a nearby rooftop leapt into the centre of the children, and snatched at Glass.

‘Go,’ Nimbus said to the unicorn. ‘Go get my sister.’

The unicorn sped down the street, leaving crackling hoof prints in the dirt. Magical energy fizzed and sparked across the surface of her horn, and as she drew closer to Glass, the sparks became more intense until they were too bright to look at.

At the same time, Strata was still struggling to keep hold of her daughter, yanking unceremoniously on one of Glass’s arms while the spider–soldier yanked on the other.

‘Let go,’ Strata shouted. ‘Let go of her. You’re not taking my daughter.’

The soldier flicked out with one of his spider–legs, catching Strata along her left side and knocking her down. Triumphantly, he dragged Glass towards him. ‘Mine now,’ he hissed, as he lifted her up to look at her. ‘The master will be pleased.’

Glass stared at him seriously, and her eyes flashed with a multitude of different colours: The same colours that were sparking and flaring around the unicorn’s horn. ‘You shouldn’t have hurt my mummy,’ she said, in a low voice. ‘That wasn’t nice.’

There was a spark of energy from the unicorn’s horn that sprang the length of the street and struck Glass. She convulsed violently, her legs spasmed, her fingers clenched; and then bolts of magic lanced out of her staring eyes. The magic cut through the spider–soldier like he was made of paper, and his grip went slack. As Glass fell to the ground, big, bloodless pieces of the spider–soldier toppled around her.

‘Can you hear me, Glass?’ a soft, female voice inside her head asked.

‘I can hear you,’ she said.

‘I have found you. I have made you whole.’

Glass looked around her at the carnage of battle. Obsidian was desperately fending off more soldiers than it was possible to count. The other garrison soldiers had formed a defensive line in front of Sky and Tidal. Strata was lying unconscious where she had fallen, the left side of her face already turning purple with bruises. At the far end of the street, Nimbus was fighting his own battle against a spider–soldier who had taken him by surprise.

‘So much violence,’ Glass said. ‘All my friends in danger. I have to stop this.’

The unicorn barged into the pressed mass of spider–soldiers, knocking them aside with a casual grace that was almost hypnotising to watch. In her wake she left a trail of injured, broken soldiers, hobbling around on maimed limbs.

‘I have to stop this,’ Glass repeated.

The unicorn finally broke free of the crowd, and cantered over to where Glass was standing.

‘Would you care to climb on my back?’ the voice in Glass’s head asked.

Glass ran a hand down the unicorn’s flank, and felt the tingle of magic under her skin. ‘We really are the same, aren’t we?’ she said.

‘We are. Tied together by fate, bound by the same laws, and destined to share the same death.’

Glass climbed onto the unicorn’s back. ‘Let’s stop this fighting,’ she said.

The unicorn snorted, and stamped the ground with her hoof. Glass felt mysterious energies flowing through her.

In the midst of the fighting, Obsidian lost his footing and slipped onto one knee. Three soldiers rushed at him, swords gleaming. Somewhere else, one of the garrison soldiers screamed as he mistimed his dodge and a sword passed through his shoulder. Tidal was in the grip of one of the spider–soldiers, having his throat crushed in one strong hand as Sky beat uselessly at the soldier’s spindly extra limbs. Autumn struck a soldier across the back with her bow, and the bow split in two, leaving her with no weapon at all as the soldier turned on her. Down the street, Nimbus had got the better of his opponent, and now he was running as fast as he could; but he was still much too far away to help.

Tears flooded Glass’s eyes. ‘Stop,’ she said. ‘Stop it, stop it, stop it.’

Coils of light began to snake around her arms, and crackle along her nails in the same way they crackled on the unicorn’s horn. She could feel something happening in her stomach. It felt like an empty well was being filled up.

‘I can do this,’ she said.

‘We can do this,’ the voice in her head said.

Then, as loud as she could, Glass screamed, ‘Stop!’

CHAPTER THIRTY

They stopped.

Much to the amazement of everybody, not least the spider–soldiers themselves, they stopped.

It was as simple as that.

One minute they were running around, fighting, hissing, trying to do everything within their power to hurt people; and the next minute they just weren’t.

Glass rested against the unicorn’s neck, breathing heavily, the last remnants of magic dripping from her fingertips to dissolve in the warm air. ‘I did it,’ she gasped.

All around them, the silver–armoured warriors were poised like statues in various acts of violence, swords raised, arms and legs outstretched to grope and grasp. ‘That’s incredible,’ the voice inside Glass’s head said. ‘You made them all stop moving. You have more magic than even I realised. It’s no wonder Crow wants you dead.’

‘Crow wants me dead?’

‘Don’t worry, Glass. There’s a lot you need to know about, but that can wait until later. First we need to figure out what we’re going to do with all of these monstrosities.’

‘I could make them go away,’ Glass said. ‘Once I’ve caught my breath.’

‘I’m sure you could.’

Nimbus was walking among the frozen soldiers, occasionally poking one and marvelling at the amount of magic that would be required to make a hundred things stop working against their will. ‘Can you believe this?’ he asked with a grin, when he saw Sky running towards him.

She threw her arms around his neck, and burst into tears. ‘I was so scared, Nim,’ she said.

 ‘It’s okay,’ he said, awkwardly wriggling out of her grip. ‘There’s no need for all the soppy stuff. You’re safe now. We all are.’

‘How can you be so sure? If something like this can happen in Landmark, what’s happening in other parts of the realm?’

‘Don’t worry about that. Whatever’s happening, I’m going to put a stop to it.’

There was a screech, and several grim shapes flapped out of the cloud cover, heading west. ‘Wyverns,’ he muttered. ‘Returning to their master.’

‘Who would be the master of such ugly things?’

‘Crow. He’s the one behind this. He’s the one I have to kill.’

A sad look came into Sky’s eyes. ‘And when did you become a killer, Nim?’

‘The moment I put on this armour.’

Sky took a step back, examining him carefully as if she didn’t even know who he was.  ‘This doesn’t sound like you, Nim. You never used to talk so easily about killing and death.’

‘I need to protect my people, and this is how I can do it.’

‘But, murdering... There must be other ways. You don’t need to kill.’

Tidal thought of his father’s journal, and all the murders recorded in its pages. He thought of how he had scattered the ashes of that book to the wind, believing that he could find a way to be a hero that did not involve killing. Then he thought of Carnelian, twitching horribly under the blade of the spider–soldier, his fingers grasping at the air as if to catch his last escaping breath.

‘Sometimes killing is the only way,’ Nimbus said, clenching his fists. He caught sight of Tidal, who was stalking along the street angrily. ‘Would you excuse me, please? I need to speak to someone.’

‘But, Nim...’

‘We’ll talk later.’

‘When?’

‘Later.’

Sky watched him go, feeling terribly lost and alone among the ranks of motionless soldiers. ‘When?’ she whispered.

Each one of the spider–creatures seemed poised as if to reach down and seize her hair and clothes, and every frozen glare was directed straight at her. She was suddenly the centre of all their hate and bitterness, and in that one instant she realised how horrible it would feel to be the Wing Warrior and how cruel it was to be subjected to such fury on a daily basis.

She realised something else to; something she had forgotten in the excitement of their last–minute rescue, but which now loomed larger and more powerful than any of the soldiers that crowded around.

She realised Nimbus had a very important job to do, whether he wanted to do it or not; and so did she.

Sighing heavily, she headed for home. Her father would be waiting for her.

‘Hey, Tide,’ Nimbus shouted, as he dodged between the frozen invaders. ‘Tide, I want to speak to you.’

Tidal turned on him, a look of outrage etched into his dirty, bruised and bloodied features. ‘I don’t want to speak to you,’ he snapped.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘You know very well what’s wrong. The same thing that’s always wrong. You’re wrong.’

‘I don’t understand. I wanted to thank you, and to tell you how happy I am that you were here to look after Sky and my family. I saw what you were doing, protecting them all. I couldn’t think of anyone I would rather have had to help. You’re a hero.’