02 Unicorn Rider (9 page)

‘Not really.’

‘What you saw in the mirror was a message. Glass is hurting, and the familiar will be feeling the same pain. It will be doing everything in its power to reach her.’

‘But why a message? Why hasn’t it come here?’

‘Perhaps it cannot, or will not. Either way, it means you must go to the unicorn.’

‘And if I do, will it be able to save Glass?’

‘I think it’s the only thing that can.’

On the kitchen table, the Wing Warrior sword began to glow. Nimbus’s gaze flicked from his father’s stern face to the handle of the sword. ‘My sister’s life in my hands,’ he said, almost to himself.

‘It’s a responsibility that should be asked of no–one,’ his father said.

‘But it is my responsibility, just the same.’

Nimbus picked up the Wing Warrior sword and braced himself as he was seized by the sensation of being sucked through time and space. The village melted away in coloured streaks, and in its place there stood ranges of sharp, angular mountains wreathed in clouds. He was stood on the lower slope of one such mountain, watching as a seething mass of large, ape–like monsters spewed into the ravine before him, yelling and barking orders in guttural tones. High above, twelve shimmering beasts of immense size circled expectantly, their massive wings flapping loudly as they prepared to dive.

‘What’s going on?’ Cumulo asked, as he paced up beside Nimbus to look down the sheer sides of the ravine.

‘I’m not sure,’ Nimbus said. ‘Glass is ill, and the Wing Warrior sword wants me to see this.’

Cumulo glanced up. ‘The dragons,’ he gasped. ‘All of my ancestors.’

The things in the ravine were now close enough for Nimbus to see they were vaguely human in shape, only with longer arms, and with just one eye instead of two. The closest of the creatures had a twisted horn growing out of the top of its head.

‘What are they?’ Nimbus asked.

‘These things are the cyclopeans. Sworn enemies of the Wing Warriors. Ugly, aren’t they?’

‘They don’t stand a chance against all twelve dragons. They’ll be slaughtered.’

‘Do not pity them. Remember this is all in the past, and whatever happens is beyond your means to change. Besides, this was a war they started.’

The largest of the circling dragons, whose golden scales glimmered in the sunlight, swooped down on the cyclopean army with a heart–stopping screech. The Wing Warrior sitting between the dragon’s gigantic shoulders drew his sword. Nimbus looked away in disgust as the other dragons followed and terrible screams rose up from the the ravine.

‘Why am I being shown this?’ he asked Cumulo.

‘The riddles of vision are often too complicated for us to unravel. I cannot say what this means, if it means anything at all. But your father was here on this day. He led the dragons against the cyclopeans. Perhaps he will know.’

Nimbus shook his head. ‘Must I always turn to my dad for help?’

‘Absolutely not. But while he’s here, it would make sense to make the most of his knowledge.’

The great golden dragon, Mother, launched herself back out of the ravine, and Nimbus just had time to see the horrible red stains on her claws and teeth before the mountains crumbled away into the dust of ancient memories and he was once again sitting in his kitchen in the tiny village of Landmark.

He put the Wing Warrior sword back on the table. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at his father when he spoke. ‘You’ve killed so many things.’

‘What did you expect? The way of the hero is lined with blood. It is not a way I would willingly choose, and there is not a life I have taken, good or bad, that I wouldn’t give back if there was some other way.’

‘There must always be another way. Isn’t that what being a true hero is all about?’

‘Sometimes there is no other way. When Sorrow was bearing down on you, and you were all that stood between her and everyone you loved, you did not think twice about stabbing her.’

‘But I had no intention of killing her. I just wanted the Wing Warrior sword to show her all the pain she was causing. I never meant for her to die.’

‘And today, you killed a wyvern. You didn’t want to, but you had no choice.’

‘I didn’t... I would have...’

‘You’re young. You don’t know what it’s like. I regret you are destined to follow where I have walked before, because I would not wish my lot on anyone. There is no glamour in being a hero, only endless, sleepless nights of regret, trying to convince yourself the things you do are right.’

‘And who finally judges?’

‘No person can judge you more harshly than you will judge yourself.’

‘I don’t want to be a killer.’

‘I will help you deal with this burden.’

‘Help me? I barely know you. I thought you were just a man, an honest, hardworking man. You kept so much from me.’

His father’s bottom lip trembled slightly. ‘Just remember, Nimbus. One man’s hero is another man’s greatest villain. Everybody has to pick a side eventually.’

‘And what about the cyclopeans? Whose side were they on? I saw them with the power of infinite vision. I saw what you did to them. You and Mother and all the others.’

His father’s forehead creased with puzzlement. ‘Why would the sword show you that, unless...?’

‘Unless what?’

‘I fear the unicorn you saw in the mirror is in terrible trouble. You must find it soon, or it may be killed.’

‘That’s a bad thing, right?’

A faint groan escaped the room where Nimbus’s mother continued to dab Glass’s burning skin with damp cloths. His father leaned closer. ‘If the unicorn dies, Glass dies too.’

CHAPTER NINE

‘The story of the cyclopean race is a tragedy without measure,’ Nimbus’s father said, pouring freshly–brewed tea from the pot on the stove. ‘Here, drink this.’

Nimbus was already on his feet. ‘I don’t have time for tea,’ he said. ‘You said yourself, I need to find the unicorn soon or it may be killed.’

‘And where do you think you will start your search? It’s a big world out there, even when you get to travel around it on the back of a dragon. Sit down for a moment. Be patient.’

‘How can I be patient? Glass is in serious danger.’

‘Listen to me. I may know why you were shown the death of the cyclopean forces.’

Reluctantly, Nimbus returned to his chair.

‘Good lad,’ his father said. ‘Now, drink this.’

Nimbus accepted the cup, staring gloomily into the tea as he swirled it with a spoon.

‘You don’t think very much of me right now, do you?’ his father said.

‘You killed all those cyclopeans. You waited until they were so far into the ravine that they couldn’t escape, then you killed them.’

‘They killed themselves.’

‘I saw what happened.’

‘You saw only the end. Such actions are not undertaken lightly, especially by Wing Warriors.’

‘Then why do it? What had they done that was so terrible?’

‘The cyclopeans were a dim–witted, brutish race. They were quick to anger and had few dealings with humans, who they considered weak and too civilised. However, despite their appearance and lack of manners, they were our allies. When dark horrors lurked, the cyclopeans could be relied on to lend their strength to our armies, and when there were matters of a delicate nature to be dealt with, human diplomats would often assist the cyclopean generals to forward negotiations that might otherwise end in war. So, we lived in peace for a time, thanks mainly to the good king, Abalone, who saw the importance of working with humans for the good of all.’

‘But you destroyed their army, killed everyone. How could you do that to our allies?’

‘Things change. King Abalone died with no heir. Fights broke out among the different clans as they all laid claim to the crown and put forward their greatest warriors as the rightful king. They were tearing themselves to pieces, and the Wing Warriors were forced to intervene to stop the fighting from getting out of control.’

Nimbus sipped his tea. Beyond the window the dangerous world stretched on for miles, and somewhere beyond the craggy peaks of the Sanguine Mountains a wolf was howling beneath the ever–vigilant gaze of the moon.

Nimbus’s father drank his own tea in a single, thirsty swallow before he continued. ‘We thought we were helping, but in the end we only made things worse. We suggested that if there was no bloodline to establish the rightful heir, then some kind of competition could be held to determine who should rule. How were we to know what kind of competition those slow–minded fools would choose?’ His eyes shimmered with the sadness of memories that were almost too painful for him to talk about. ‘There was no way we could have known.’

‘What did they do?’

‘They had heard rumours that whosoever holds the horn of a unicorn will be granted a single wish. They decided that their new king would be the cyclops who could slay a unicorn and take the power of its magical horn.’

Nimbus clenched his fists. ‘They killed a unicorn?’

‘One of their number, who went by the name of Carnelian, found the grazing grounds of the unicorns. By night, he snuck into that sacred place, and he killed the smallest of the unicorns with his bare hands. He broke the horn off and attached it to his own head.’

‘Did he make a wish?’

‘He made the most fateful of wishes. He wished that he, and all of his kind, had the power to see beyond time and space.’

‘The power of infinite vision?’

‘That’s right.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Carnelian was praised as the saviour of his people and became king. And for some time there was peace again as the cyclopeans enjoyed the benefits of their new gift. But then the dreams started. The power they had been granted was beyond their control, and in their sleep they started to see glimpses of the future whether they wanted to or not. Eventually they saw something that destroyed them.’

‘What was it?’

‘They saw that they would be killed by dragons. In fear, they took up arms against the Wing Warriors, their allies, and began a bloody feud that lasted for many years. There was only one possible outcome... The outcome you have seen for yourself.’

‘They were killed, despite seeing the future?’

‘No. Don’t you see? They were killed because they saw the future. Do you really think the dragons would have done something like that if the cyclopeans had given them any other choice? We tried to negotiate treaties of peace, to restore the balance, but the cyclopeans were blinded by the visions they had seen. They were convinced the dragons would kill them all. In the end, we had no choice.’

‘Then they really did destroy themselves.’

His father’s expression grew darker still. ‘There’s more you need to know. After the battle, we took Carnelian’s body. We reasoned that perhaps some good could come of the terrors that had been caused by his murder of the unicorn. We took his remains to Mother’s temple.’ He paused. Swallowed. ‘We removed the horn and cast it into a fire, and then we used that fire to forge the twelve Wing Warrior swords.’

‘You mean...?’

‘The power contained within the blade of your sword is the same power that Carnelian wished for. But it’s more than that. Somehow, when we took the horn, we took his spirit too. By forging the swords, we somehow bound his spirit, trapping it somewhere between life and death. Perhaps it is some kind of punishment for what he did.’

‘A punishment you gave him.’

‘We didn’t know what would happen once we took the horn.’

‘But what gave you the right?’ Nimbus banged the table angrily. ‘You Wing Warriors were all so keen to dish out your own justice, weren’t you? But who gave you that power?’

His father’s gaze flickered uneasily. ‘I know why you would feel some sympathy for this creature, Nimbus. I know what happened to you when you breathed Sorrow’s poison.’

‘No. You don’t. You don’t know what it was like not being alive or dead, being lost in a limbo you can’t escape. I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, not even a unicorn murderer.’

‘You’re right,’ his father sighed. ‘I can’t possibly imagine what you went through, and I can’t imagine what Carnelian is going through every day and always, but what is done is done. These things cannot be changed, even if they are regretted.’

Nimbus swept a hand through his hair. His insides were burning with anger and confusion. The more he spoke with his father about his past life as a Wing Warrior, the more he disliked him. He really didn’t want to dislike his father.

‘Can you tell me what this all means?’ he said. ‘How can Carnelian have anything to do with what’s happened to Glass?’

‘Unicorns are very secretive. They do not dwell often in the realms of men, and of all the creatures that ever lived to speak of it, there is only one who saw their grazing grounds.’

‘Carnelian?’

His father nodded. ‘I think the time has come for you to visit Mother’s temple, far in the crags of the Sanguine Mountains. There is an altar there, a statue carved in the likeness of Carnelian, and at the base of that statue rages the fire from which the Wing Warrior swords were forged. The power in that altar is like a concentrated form of the power the sword gives you, because in that fire burns the endless and immortal spirit of Carnelian, the unicorn slayer.’

Nimbus jumped to his feet. ‘That’s it then, if I go to the altar, maybe it can show me more than the sword is showing.’

‘No, wait.’

‘There’s no time, Dad. I need to fetch my armour.’

‘Listen to me. If you visit the altar, you may find the answers you are looking for, but only if Carnelian is prepared to let you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Haven’t you ever wondered why the Wing Warrior sword only allows you to see what it wants you to see? The power of infinite vision is still Carnelian’s, and his alone. We never realised when the swords were forged, we didn’t understand what would happen. Carnelian loves to play, throwing out riddles to torment the people who imprisoned his spirit, and he is always working for his own ends. Even now, he is dangerous. He can still hurt you.’

‘So I’ll be careful.’

‘We’ll be careful. I’m coming with you.’