Cloudfyre Falling - a dark fairy tale (51 page)

The emaciated,
dying figure laughed then. But weakness overcame him quickly and he
fell silent. For a while he lay there simply breathing, as if that
were all that were left to him, his weakened, dying breath. But it
appeared he had some final words to speak. ‘
Hawkmoth. I… I need tell y-you something. You m-must listen
carefully to me. For cir-circumstances be… be not what you might
th-think
.’

‘
I have heard enough. I shall
leave you here to your death.’

‘
Listen to me,
this one last time
.’

‘
I know well your schemes,
Skitecrow. You wish to stall me. Nothing more. Are my Brothers due
back soon to arrest me?’

Skitecrow winced,
swallowed. ‘
Shut up and listen. In your
absence, we… we excavated the ancient city of
Ghartst
.’

Hawkmoth sighed, done now with
this conversation. ‘This I know.’

Skitecrow grunted
weakly. ‘
So, you
were
maintaining contact with
Brothers on the inside.
’

‘
Aye, and their names will come
with me to my grave. Are we done here?’

‘
No. Did you not
hear what I said? We excavated Ghartst.
’

‘
Yes. What of it?’

‘
We found
something most, most strange. A legend. A portent. A warning. Call
it what you will.
’

Hawkmoth looked around. He knew
Skitecrow were trying to delay him. But for what? Were sorcerers on
their way? To capture and incarcerate him?

‘
They were
buried below ground. In deep secret vaults. Stone tablets we
believe that… that predate even that of the Ghartst civilisation.
Back to Cloudfyre’s empires of Men.
’

Hawkmoth gazed down at him. ‘Why?
Why do you tell me this?’

‘
I… I urge you
to see them for yourself.
’

‘
Why should I waste my
time?’

This Skitecrow
laughed again weakly and coughed, green phlegm dribbling from his
cracked, wrinkled lips. ‘
What lay waste to
Sanctuary were not witches. What lay waste to us were spirits of
Cloudfyre. And return they will.
’

Hawkmoth looked puzzled. ‘Spirits
of Cloudfyre? What, by Ravenblack, are you talking
about?’

‘
I thought I had
read and studied all there were on Cloudfyre’s history. But rarely
do you find anything describing life beyond ten thousand years. And
here they were, tablets inscribed in a language I have seen only
once before. The language of Ghartst
.’
Skitecrow, summoning the last of his strength, went on.
‘
This is what they told us: every ten
thousand years Cloudfyre’s children throw out the old world.
Killing every living thing, be that plant, animal or spirit. We are
here on the precipice of the last great age of this Epoch. You
shall see, the witches are suffering as much as
we.
’

‘
These old tablets tell of this,
do they?’ Hawkmoth asked, with a skeptical grin. This were some
trap. He felt it more than ever now. The witches were cunning. The
real Skitecrow were likely a carcass in a ditch somewhere by now,
for all he knew. And this thing on the floor, some
imposter.

‘
They tell it,
aye.
’

‘
And where be these mysterious
tablets then?’ Gargaron asked.

‘
In our Halls of Yore. Placed on
my desk.’

‘
Halls of Yore?’ Hawkmoth laughed.
‘How might I access such a place? I were removed from this
institution before given access to the Great Hall.’

‘
All… all
enchantments are lifted now.
’

‘
Do not take me for an idiot,
Skitecrow. Those enchantments are never lifted. Even I know this.
For they are governed by Vhada’s spirit.’

Skitecrow coughed
and lay there catching his breath. ‘
Vhada’s spirit has gone. She has left us. Chased off by
Cloudfyre’s children. The Great Halls are thrust open, vulnerable
now to exploitation and violation. But it matters not now for there
be naught left to commit such heinous acts. This world be
dead.
’

Hawkmoth smiled. ‘Here be some
trap to lure me into the confines of Sanctuary, to imprison me like
Mama Vekh, for supposed propaganda crimes. I’m aware of the bounty
you placed on me, Lord Skitecrow. But I assure you, I have given no
falsehoods about this place. I ignore the mistreatment I
experienced from your like and defend this place at every argument
I encounter. I still have friends here after all. Why would I
jeapardise their safety and welfare?’

The figure on the
floor lay there, head down, weak, tired eyes gazing up at Hawkmoth.
‘
There be no trap… please, believe
me
.’ His voice were mostly a whisper now.
‘
The bounty be waived. Ra-return the Hag
if that be your plan… but I implore you… read the
tablets…
’

‘
To what end?’

Though Skitecrow would speak no
more. His last breath crawled from him, a green vapour in the form
of a barrow gremlin dragging itself from his cracked and gaping
mouth. It resembled something climbing from a grave pit, small
clawed fingers pulling itself from within. After it had emerged, it
hesitated and looked about, momentarily watching Hawkmoth with its
large gloomy eyes before scurrying away. After a dozen feet, while
still scurrying, it dissipated upon the air like mist on a plucky
wind.

7

Outside they stood, Hawkmoth,
Gargaron, Melai, Locke, the snow falling heavier now. Mama Vekh
were wrapped in her bundle, strapped to the side of Razor, her body
concealed, her dignity maintained.

‘
Who was he?’ Melai
asked.

‘
If it were he and not some witch
manifestation, then he were an old mentor.’ Hawkmoth looked
distractedly off toward the westward end of Sanctuary where the
towers looked like wraiths amidst the mists. ‘Though not one
favoured by myself. He has been Lord and Supreme Brother of
Sanctuary for too many years, and drunk by his position of
power.’

‘
What were that grub that squirmed
from his face?’ Locke enquired.

‘
His totem,’ Hawkmoth answered,
though still his eyes gazed eastways. ‘A life force some sorcerers
attain which can keep them alive for a time beyond
death.’

Gargaron kept his eye on Hawkmoth,
knowing the sorcerer were caught in two minds about something.
‘What eats at your thoughts, sorcerer?’ he asked. ‘We have what we
came for. Let us leave this place.’

‘
I ponder the Halls of
Yore.’

‘
And these stone tablets?’
Gargaron asked.

‘
The stone tablets do not exist,
giant. If they did, my contacts here would have informed me of such
a find from their excavating.’

‘
Then let us leave this place
behind,’ Gargaron insisted. ‘Strike out for Vantasia and end the
Ruin now.’

‘
We shall,’ Hawkmoth told him,
‘nonetheless I intend to conduct a small detour in the Halls of
Yore first.’

The others were confused. ‘But you
said it yourself,’ Melai said, ‘these tablets do not
exist.’

‘
It be not the tablets I seek,’ he
told her. ‘The Halls of Yore are home to some of sorcery’s most
formidable weapons. There are things there that will aid us in our
quest. Particularly if the witches prove testy, or take exception
to Mama Vekh’s demise.’

‘
Well, let us have at it then,’
Locke said. ‘My claws are freezing over sitting here discussing
it.’

‘
Aye, have at it we will,’
Hawkmoth said, pulling Razor about amidst the quiet snowfall.
‘Though, bear this in mind. My old lord and master were not a soul
in whom I placed much trust. For many a year he has been out to get
me so this could be his final ploy to snare me. So, we must tread
carefully.’

1

THEY made their
way swiftly toward the westward parts of Sanctuary, Razor and
Grimah galloping quietly through deepening snow, with Zebra
slithering swiftly, leaving deep zig-zagging
trails in her path, her tongue forever flicking, tasting the
air. As Hawkmoth lead them toward one of the bending towers they
slowed. Parts of its lower walls had been blown inwards, as if some
monstrous concussive blast had torn into it.

‘
Gargaron,’ Hawkmoth called out.
‘Locke. Would you stand guard here?’ He tossed Gargaron a war horn.
‘Blow this if you spot anything. Oh, and care little should you not
hear it; it be tuned to me specifically. No point alerting enemy to
our whereabouts if we do not desire it.’

Gargaron caught it one handed.
Shaped like the head of an eel it were. ‘How long do you expect to
be?’

‘
No more than ten ticks of the
clock,’ Hawkmoth replied. ‘Enough time to gather up whatever I am
fortunate enough to find.’ He dismounted and began unhitching the
bundle that were Mama Vekh from Razor’s flank.

‘
What are you doing?’ Gargaron
enquired.

‘
Take her. If there be some trap I
walk into then I would do well not having her with me.’

It were Locke who
offered his serpent. ‘Grimah hefts giant
and
nymph while my steed has ample
room.’

‘
Very well,’ Hawkmoth said,
hitching the witch mother to serpent’s saddle. As he remounted
Razor he said, ‘Melai, for you a task if you wish it.’

‘
Name it,’ she said.

‘
I need you to prep the westward
gate for our departure.’

She frowned. ‘So I would if I knew
its procedure.’

Hawkmoth pulled Razor alongside
Grimah, extending his arm, touching Melai’s forehead with his
fingers; his hand almost engulfing her entire head. Moments passed,
mere moments, but for Melai it felt like an entire sweep of the
clock. When Hawkmoth withdrew his touch, Melai looked up at him,
blinking, her eyes, somewhat glazed. She looked then out across the
snowy grounds toward yet another tower lingering in the gloom. It
were situated on Sanctuary’s most westwun point. ‘That one there be
it?’

Hawkmoth nodded.

‘
I shall see what can be done.’
She spread her wings, leapt away and were gone into foggy
sky.

Gargaron watched her flight path,
anxious. He felt Hawkmoth’s hand on his shoulder. ‘Rest easy,
giant,’ he urged. ‘She be well. We shall join her soon
enough.’

Hawkmoth turned now for the
rounded doorway at base of tower. Before he disappeared into
tower’s darkened belly he turned and spoke to crabman and giant.
‘If I am not returned by ten clicks of the clock, do not come for
me. The Hall of Yore be a most venomous place for even sorcerers,
let alone those with no knowledge of magical lore. Instead, ride to
Melai. The tallest point of that tower be the westwards gate. Melai
will instruct you. Head southways’n’west from here. Vantasia you
shall find inside Dark Wood beyond the southways roads. Return Mama
Vekh and pray the witches halt their campaign. My wishes go with
you.’

‘
And ours with you,’ Gargaron told
him.

With that, Hawkmoth were
gone.

2

It had been some years since
Hawkmoth had been to Sanctuary, let alone this tower. But he still
knew the way to Lord Skitecrow’s offices. Six levels up, ninth set
of chambers along the corridor. He supposed they still bragged
grand vistas of surrounding crags, but he could not tell that day,
not with all the clouds.

He dismounted Razor; it would have
been an offense to bring such a beast into these Halls had
Sanctuary been operating as per normal. But all normal operating
procedure were finished. He gripped his staff. He remained alert
for possible strikes by hidden witch raiders or malcontent
sorcerers. The place rang empty however, nothing but the howl of
the mountain gales and biting cold snow and air flurrying through
shattered glass windows.

Hawkmoth stepped up to Lord
Skitecrow’s wooden desk. The famed Orrery were broken and pulled
down across the floor. Ancient tomes had been pulled from book
shelves and strewn about the floor. But as Hawkmoth had suspected,
no matter where he looked, there were no sign of these alleged
Ghartst Tablets. ‘I were right to mistrust you,’ Hawkmoth said as
if his old Lord were seated smugly at desk.

He set to work pulling open
wardrobes, drawers, old chests. Fetching out phantom scrolls and
arcane gadgets, medicines, rummaging through weapon’s hordes.
Hawkmoth loaded as much as his side-pack would carry before
fetching himself back to Razor.

That’s when he heard it.

A sound so faint at first it might
have been naught but some moan of the wind. But it persisted. Noise
of some disturbance coming from beyond Sanctuary. A screech. A cry.
A moan. He strode with haste to nearest window and peered
out.