Read Cloudfyre Falling - a dark fairy tale Online

Authors: A. L. Brooks

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Cloudfyre Falling - a dark fairy tale (32 page)

BOOK: Cloudfyre Falling - a dark fairy tale
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6


By
Ranethor!

Gargaron gasped.

Melai!

But it were too late. She were
gone, vanished beneath the wash of flame, incinerated in but an
instant.

Pure rage drove the Skinkk from
the ground. It leapt into the air, flapping madly, wildly. Below
it, in the same wash of fire that had immolated Melai, the
darklings burned like embers. Yet, they were far from dead. They
watched the dragon head for skies, watching it coldly with their
burning flame-red eyes…

Gargaron thought the Skinkk were
fleeing. But it swooped up, circled, and screamed back down in a
terrifying arc. It were aiming not at the Imps now, but at
him.

Gargaron yanked Grimah back just
as the great Skinkk soared over the arch, releasing a torrent of
liquid fire that bubbled the stone, melting it, droplets splatting
the pavers, scorching it, pockmarking it. The searing heat raked
across both Gargaron and horse, Grimah rearing up, squealing,
Gargaron tumbling feet-over-head from his mount.

He slammed into ground
shoulder-first, grunting, the impact shoving his chin into his
chest, but his momentum rolled him back onto his feet. He removed
his shield from his back and unsheathed his great-sword as huge
blocks of the archway tumbled down about him; he were peppered with
crumbling stone and brick, mortar dust clouding the air.

He coughed and wiped grit from his
eyes and in the confusion lost sight of his attacker. He squinted
into the dust cloud, his eyes scanning the space between the
temples above him. He saw the Skinkk not and feeling exposed
attempted a dash further beneath his shelter.

As he ran, Grimah scrambled before
him, and he heard Skinkk’s roar; he twisted around and saw it
diving for him. He took evasive action, leaping across the debris
scattered all about him, shoving Grimah through a temple doorway
into what he hoped would be safe confines. Gargaron hoped to hurl
himself through the doorway after his horse, but he were out of
time. He had barely a moment to drop to his knee and heft his
shield over his head.

A wash of liquid fire squirted
down around him as the Skinkk soared by above. Gargaron’s shield
took full brunt, liquid fire fanning out as it hit the shield’s
surface.

The Skinkk reared away, flapping
upward as the star-bugs now turned Gargaron’s way. Gargaron hefted
himself to his feet, but tumbled to one knee. To make matters more
dire, the Skinkk swooped on him once more, hell fire squirting
wildly. This time Gargaron threw himself at temple doorway, only to
stumble in the debris about him and come up short.

An excruciating blast of liquid
fire rained across his back.

He roared in agony. It felt as
though he had been torn open, his skin ripped aside, a thousand
nails hammering his spine and flanks. The Skinkk, weakened itself,
crashed into temple ruins, sending down another shower of stone and
dirt, peppering Gargaron.

The star-bugs marched onward. And
above, the Skinkk regained its momentum, flapping up and up… as if
it had done its worst and were now off somewhere to rest or die.
That would have been Gargaron’s wish, that those advancing imps had
forced it to finally turn tail. Yet, what he did not know was that
he had yet to see the last of it. For again it turned, and again it
swooped on him.

Gargaron were spent, his back and
Nightface were aflame; the roar of fire like thunder in his ears.
Yet he clawed himself for temple doorway, any attempt to get
himself clear of peril. Though the star bugs were sapping his
strength faster than he could move.

He collapsed finally into the
crumbled stonework strewn about him. And lay there panting, flames
spreading across him. His sight were going, clouding over. His
consciousness ebbing away. Before it all went black, he saw two
things: Grimah. His loyal mount charging from temple confines,
biting into Gargaron’s forearms, and dragging the giant across
stone and brick to safety. And something else. One that truly
confounded him.

Melai.

7

She stood beyond the cover of
temple. Firing a rapid volley of arrows up into Skinkk’s scaled
belly as it swooped toward them. She looked so tiny, so
ineffectual, beneath that beast, like a sparrow beneath a mighty
bullhorn hound. Her heroic efforts however did little to ward it
off.

She flew toward
Gargaron. ‘
Stand,
giant!
’ she yelled. ‘
Get inside!

But Gargaron could no more stand
now than stop the stars from burning. She turned and saw the star
bugs creeping closer and closer. And over her right shoulder came
the dragon.

She only had a
sunflare to make up her mind about what she should do? Flee,
vanish
again? Or stay at
giant’s side. Either way, this giant would perish. And that being
the case, did she want this world alone without him? Her answer
were
no
. Thus she
braced herself for a wash of molten fire that would consume them
both.

What she were not expecting were
the shimmering blue iridescence that filled the air about her, a
huge domed barrier of light suddenly hanging over the ruins
surrounding Melai, the giant and Grimah. Some peculiar phenomenon
that seemed to ward off the Skinkk. For the dragon flapped its wild
wings, arresting its momentum, avoiding the light as if it meant
instant death.

Here the Skinkk flew upwards,
wheeled away dizzily, crashing into the ruins, an eruption of stone
and brick blowing out from the impact, and the great dragon
disappeared beyond top of domed temple, sliding down its opposite
side, out of sight and sound.

8

Melai, confused, looked about; the
unconscious giant beside her still aflame. She straightened, and
looked about, wondering how the ward had come into being. Now
something caught her eye. A tall figure, robed and hooded, striding
forward with long wooden staff in hand, moving through the blue
barrier like a ghost through mist.

He strode toward her and she
struggled to arm her bow but a wave of his spare hand saw the bow
fall heavy from her grip. As he reached her he swung his staff
around and Melai saw at its tip two faces, one above the other. The
upper one female and beautiful as an angel, the lower resembling
the face of some tortured demon, fanged and goggle-eyed.

Presently, the eyes of the angel
were burning blue and her jaw stretched open and from her mouth
there erupted suddenly a roaring gale that swept across both Melai
and giant, blasting Gargaron’s flaming body and extinguishing all
flame in but an instant.


Rehouse your imps!’ this newcomer
commanded Melai sternly, his voice deep and resonating.

Melai were struck dumb by his
arrival. He prompted her a second time. ‘Are you hard of hearing,
nymph? Rehouse your imps before they do us all an
illness!’

She fetched her bow and backed
away in the direction of the star imps. As she did she eyed the
newcomer crouch to inspect Gargaron. The giant lay there huffing,
huffing, huffing, as if near to death. Melai watched the robed
figure dig his long fingers into Gargaron’s bubbling
flesh.


What are you
doing?
’ Melai demanded, arming her bow and
aiming an arrow at the back of the stranger’s
neck.


What does it look like?’ he
grumbled. ‘I am trying to save your friend’s life. Now lower your
weapon and see to your imps. I should not have to ask
thrice.’

Melai did not
lower her bow. Yet she wondered something.
Could this be Haitharath?
Friend of
Thoonsk and protector of animals and husband of Evehnyer Dawnraider
the witch
.

The picture did not fit the one in
her mind; the images she had taken from her willow tree were of a
sorcerer who stood shorter than this one, who had less a head of
hair and not much of a beard. This one before her stood, she
judged, as tall as Gargaron’s chest (were Gargaron to be standing),
and it were difficult to tell hair from beard, such a mass of it
there were. ‘Tell me something, if you will, before I let you tend
to him,’ she said. ‘Should the storm winds fall upon Ostamare, and
the rains not cease, where ought I to take shelter?’

He glanced around at her, only a
small part of his face to be seen hidden there beneath the edge of
his hood. Melai awaited the answer that Eve had promised the real
Haitharath would provide. Finally he gave it: ‘In your heart, dear
nymph. In your heart.’

She turned, satisfied, and hurried
away to her star bugs.

9

Hawkmoth
Lifegiver stood and raised his staff, running it back and forth
slowly above Gargaron’s spine. ‘
Tayketh
uff yar bernss
,’ he said commandingly.

Tayketh uff yar bernss, mee
seey
.’

A squelching sound could be heard
along the charred, blistered flesh of Gargaron’s back. Peculiar
pink sprouts grew up out of the burnt mess.

By the time Melai had returned
(her star bugs once more contained) she saw Gargaron’s entire back
were knotted in white roots and the pink sprouts now grew with blue
trumpet flowers that gushed black soot onto the breeze. Nearby,
Grimah stood, sniffing the air, and every now and then, with both
mouths, he nibbled gently at the giant’s ankles, as if hoping to
illicit some response.


Be you well?’ the newcomer spoke
at Gargaron’s ear, as if it were not a query but a command, an
incantation.

Gargaron’s breathing, Melai saw
now, had settled.

The stranger again spoke at
Gargaron’s ear. ‘Be. You. Well.’

Gargaron’s eyes came open. And he
lay there looking about. Blinking. Unsure of his whereabouts. He
groaned, and croaked, ‘Wh-who are you?’


I be Hawkmoth
Lifegiver,’ he replied with a warm smile. ‘And glad to meet you.’
He looked around at Melai. ‘To meet you all.’ He surveyed the two
headed Grimah as if curious by its appearance, but making no
comment other than a
So be it
expression with his eyes.

Gargaron frowned and eyed the
hooded figure at length. ‘Hawkmoth?’ he groaned.


Aye. And you have suffered much,
thus I urge you to rest.’

Gargaron looked about, as if only
now recalling what had happened here. ‘Where, where be that
infernal Skinkk?’


The Devil Horn?’ Hawkmoth asked.
‘I have warded it off.’


Warded it?’ Gargaron looked
relieved. But then his eyes widened again. ‘The imps?’ And
coughing, he arched his head to search his immediate surroundings
and saw Melai, his watery eyes falling upon her as if she were a
ghost. Deep furrows dug across his brow. ‘Melai?’ He reached out
for her. ‘Is that you, pray tell?’

She stepped through the rubble to his side and
took his hand. ‘Aye, it be me.’

He blinked at her, having trouble
believing it. ‘But… but I saw you engulfed by flame. H-how is it
you stand here?’


I managed to
fly from its reach before it swallowed me,’ she told him. ‘A
nymph’s
vanishing
tricks can be used for more than just catching someone
unawares.’

He drew in a deep breath and let
it out slowly, watching her as a father might look upon a lost
daughter. He reached up and pushed damp hair from her face with his
long, thick fingers. Then he rest back against the stonework,
grimacing in discomfort.


Right then,’ Hawkmoth said. ‘Rest
here awhile. I must see to the Devil Horn. I fear it be not long
for this plane and if it needs it I must help in its passing.’ He
squeezed the giant’s shoulder. ‘I shall return when business is
done.’

10

Gargaron though
refused to sit and wait. He had not come this far to lose the
sorcerer so quick. Besides, though he were injured and in pain, wee
thoughts of Drenvel’s Bane niggled him.
If
I could but get some share of Skinkk’s blood…

Against Melai’s protestations he
struggled to his feet, using Grimah’s stirrups and then reins to
help haul himself from rubble to saddle. He grimaced and groaned
and the trumpet flowers embedded in his back, gushed with more
soot.

He were obviously not aware, Melai
assumed, that his clothes were close to peeling from his frame. The
rear portions of his jacket, the tops of his pants were burnt to
flakes, held to him by virtue of the fact that they were melted
into his flesh. But he would hear nothing from Melai, saying only
that they must keep up with the good sorcerer. And he pulled her
onto Grimah’s shoulders and they clip-clopped after
Hawkmoth.

11

They passed into the bowels of the
temple, by the doorway through which Gargaron had heaved Grimah
during the Skinkk attack. Inside, dead bats and geckos littered the
ancient paved floor. Great spiders swung, deceased, in ruined webs.
Paintings of the Cahtu lined the walls with their tusks and bug
faces, with their arachnid-eyes and dire-arms.

BOOK: Cloudfyre Falling - a dark fairy tale
7.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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