The Fathomless Fire (39 page)

Shade lay in the corner, not moving. Will hurried to his side and knelt beside him.

“Shade?”

The wolf stirred, then suddenly sprang up, jaws snapping. Will fell back with a cry.

The wolf snarled savagely, his teeth bared, then sank back down, panting. His eyes rolled back in his head, and slaver dripped from his jaws.

“Shade, it’s me,” Will said, wiping away the tears that clouded his vision. “I’m here. What have they done to you?”

The wolf’s head came up. His eyes darted about wildly, then he seemed to see Will at last.

“Will Lightfoot. I am sorry. They put their poison into me. There is a … fire in my blood. I cannot see or think well.”

“We’re getting you out of here,” Will said. “Can you walk all right? Did they burn you with the lightning again?”

“They did not. When I saw that the Sky Folk had caught you, Will Lightfoot, I let them take me,” Shade said. “I wanted to go where they were taking you. I was hoping I could escape and find you, but they gave me their poison and I forgot everything.”

“That keeper will bring others back,” Will said. “Maybe if we can get to one of their ships…”

“We can try,” Balor said.

Will helped Shade to rise, then the three of them hurried out of the chamber together. After a short dash they came to a meeting of two dim, narrow passages. Down one they glimpsed a flicker of torchlight and heard the heavy tread of booted feet. They took the other passageway and followed its slowly winding rise until they could feel cooler air on their faces. Around a corner their flight came to a sudden end. A gate of thick iron bars blocked the corridor. Will looked around in panic, before noticing a crack in the wall to his left, a narrow fissure running from the roof to the floor. It had probably been caused by the tremors that had shaken the fortress, and was wide enough for him to see a pale light and drifting cloud through it.

“What’s on the other side of this?” he asked himself aloud.

“Maybe nothing but a hundred-foot drop,” Balor said. “But if there’s a walkway or a battlement…”

“It’s better than being trapped here.”

“Stand back,” Balor said. “Let’s see if I can get this thing to work again.”

He aimed the lightning stave at the fissure. The tip of the stave glowed a brilliant white, and a bolt of lightning burst forth and flew at the wall. There was a roar and a rumble of falling stone. When the choking clouds of dust settled, they saw that the gap was twice as large as it had been before.

“You did it, Balor,” Will shouted.

“Yes, but …” the wildman began. In his hands he held the two broken halves of the stave.

“I’m not sure what I did wrong,” he muttered, dropping the broken stave. “And I know what I said about magic weapons, but this really came in handy while it lasted.”

“Come on,” Will said. He ducked and climbed through the hole, with Shade and the wildman following quickly after. They found themselves on a narrow stair without a railing, running along the base of the wall Balor had just blasted open. The cloud-cloaked sky was a pale grey, and Will realized that dawn was not far off. Far below them lay the dark earth, veiled in smoke and lit here and there with sullen red fire. The stair they were on climbed along the wall to a landing, and what looked to be an archway to another part of the fortress.

“Up that way, I think,” Balor cried above the roar of the wind. “We can’t stay here.”

“Shade, can you climb?” Will asked.

“I am staying with you no matter what, Will Lightfoot.”

“If those motherworms find us out here, we’re done for,” Balor said, then added in an undertone, “nothing motherly about them, if you ask me.”

They climbed slowly up the stair, constantly watching the sky and the wall below them for any sign of the dragons. When they were almost at the landing, Will suddenly stopped.

“What’s that?” he said, pointing downwards.

In the dim light they could see a long column of dark armoured figures, climbing up the rim of the valley. Will followed the line of their march to its origin and saw that the figures were filing out of one of the black fissures in the earth. The column, hundreds or maybe even thousands strong, was marching south, but away from the fortress, not towards it. They were not marching to the assault, Will realized, but leaving the valley. Perhaps marching out of the ghostlands altogether.

“Where are they going?” Balor shouted. “The battle is here.”

Will had no answer, but as he gazed down at the column, he felt a cold wave of dread pass through him. There was something in the way these dark figures moved perfectly in step, as if each was exactly the same as all the others, that was familiar to him in a terrifying way.

“It’s the fetches,” he said. “The armoured fetches Nonn told us about.”

“Why aren’t they attacking the fortress?” Balor said. “Well, never mind that now, we have to keep moving.”

They started climbing again. A short time later they reached the landing and hurried through the archway, which gave onto a wide circular platform of stone, surrounded by columns, some cracked and fallen over. There were black scorch marks on the flagstones, and on many of the columns. Far above, a thin ray of morning light had pierced the smoke and cloud, and the naked stone of the towers high above glowed a pale red.

“This is a training ground if ever I’ve seen one,” Balor said. “Probably where they practise using the staves.”

“Will Lighfoot,” Shade said warningly, and Will turned to see what the wolf’s watchful eyes were fixed on.

A tall figure stood at the edge of the ring. At first Will thought he was clad in some kind of dull-grey armour, then he saw that the armour was in fact the figure’s flesh, and that it was not metal but clay.

“The stone giant,” Balor muttered, then he grinned. “I’d forgotten about that. And I’m the bear. Well, let’s not disappoint the Dreamwalker’s children.”

“That’s Ord, the golem,” Will cried. “The one we met in the bog. He didn’t hurt us then. Maybe if we just walk away…”

“He’s the Sky Lord’s servant now, remember?” Balor said. “Mark my words, he’s been sent to find us and bring us back. Will, take Shade and get out of here.”

“You can’t fight him, Balor,” Will said. “He’s too strong.”

“We’ll see about that,” said the wildman.

The golem was much as Will remembered him. Silent, impassive – then suddenly he was moving towards them like the stone of the fortress itself come to life.

Will could feel his heavy tread underfoot. He backed away with Shade, and watched in fear as the golem advanced slowly, inexorably on Balor, who had yet to move. Ord approached the wildman with arms at his sides and eyes fixed as if unseeing. At the last moment the golem’s arms rose and reached for Balor, who braced himself and grasped Ord’s wrists. It was clear to Will now that the wildman had waited for his moment, in the hope of throwing the golem to the ground, but although he strained with all his might and grew purple in the face, the golem did not move.

Finally Balor let go and staggered back, his face gleaming with sweat.

The golem came at him again, as slowly and unrelentingly as before.

“I will help Balor Gruff,” Shade said, but Will clung to him tightly.

“You’re hurt, Shade. Please stay here.”

This time when Ord reached him Balor ducked under his outstretched arms and threw himself at the golem’s midsection. He dug his feet in and shoved. Now the golem actually moved backwards a step or two. Then his arms reached around the wildman. At the last moment Balor dropped and rolled away. Will understood what would happen to him if the golem got Balor in his grip, and the wildman seemed to know it, too.

The golem came at Balor again and the wildman swung one of his huge fists and struck Ord full in the face. The golem’s head and torso jerked back with the force of the blow, but his feet, Will saw with astonishment, did not even move. He righted himself just as Balor struck again, with a blow that Will thought would have been enough to floor an elephant. And again the golem’s upper body was thrown back, but he was not budged the slightest from where he stood. Again the golem righted himself and came on.

Balor seemed to understand clearly now what he was facing. He backed away and began to circle his adversary, his eyes never leaving the stone giant’s. The golem followed Balor, his slow, steady pace unchanged, unhurried.

Suddenly the wildman bent forward as if exhausted or in pain. As Ord approached and reached for him once more, Balor sprang up, grappled the golem from below and succeeded in lifting him off the ground. The strain on Balor’s face was terrible to see. He was only able to lift the golem’s feet less than a hand’s breadth from the stones, but it seemed as if he were lifting a mountain. Balor’s brawny arms were around the golem’s midsection, shaking as the wildman squeezed his opponent, but there was no apparent effect on Ord. With a cracked roar, Balor heaved the golem away from him. Ord struck the floor, rolled once in the dust, then climbed to his feet and started towards Balor again as if nothing had happened.

Will could see that Balor had little strength left. The wildman didn’t back away again, but his chest was heaving and as he came on, he tottered for a moment as if he might fall. As the golem came past the place where Will was watching, Will saw that instead of the green stone from Finn’s ring, the golem had set in his forehead a dull black disc.

“Balor, his forehead!” Will cried.

Balor shot a puzzled glance towards Will, who touched his own forehead.

“The disc in his forehead!”

Balor’s eyes widened with understanding and he nodded, just as the golem’s arms reached for him once more. He batted them away, struck the golem a blow to the chest and pulled his fist back with a grimace of pain. Then he clutched at the golem’s forehead with his other hand. His fingers scrabbled desperately for a moment, before he pulled his hand back as the golem reached for him, but it was too late. The golem’s arms were around him now and his hands locked together, imprisoning the wildman. Balor struggled, growled, hammered the golem on the back with his fists as he was lifted easily off the ground. For a moment it seemed as if nothing was happening, but Balor’s face darkened, his features contorted, and Will knew that the golem was slowly squeezing the breath out of him.

A friend will fall
, Will thought in horror.

“He’s killing him,” he breathed desperately.

Shade pulled away from Will’s side with a growl and leapt at the golem. His jaws closed around one of Ord’s wrists and his head wrenched to one side. The golem’s grip loosened just long enough for the wildman to free one of his arms. But the golem flung the wolf away in the next instant and regained his crushing hold on Balor.

Shade hit the stone floor and rolled. He was up a moment later and Will was by his side.

“Shade, wait—” Will began, but Shade was already running at the golem again. Then suddenly he stopped.

Out of the shadows strode Corr Madoc, followed by Finn and a small party of Stormriders carrying torches. One of them seized Will by the arm and another pointed a lightning stave at Shade.

“Enough,” Corr said, and Will realized he was speaking to the golem.

Ord let the wildman go, as if he was suddenly forgotten. Balor tumbled to the floor, gasping for breath. The golem stood over him, unmoving, not even looking at the adversary he had bested, as if waiting patiently for his next task.

Finn hurried to Balor and crouched by his side. The mordog who was holding Will back released his grip, and Will darted to Shade’s side. Finn turned from examining the wildman.

“He’s still breathing,” he said. “We need to get him to Alazar, Corr.”

“Your friend the wildman isn’t dying,” Corr Madoc said. “The golem does not kill. We’ve seen it many times already, when we send him against our enemies. My mages tried to change that, but they weren’t successful. It makes the golem less useful, perhaps, but still, he’s practically unstoppable, and quite intimidating in battle.”

Finn stood and faced his brother.

“Did you order this attack?”

“I ordered the golem to find your friends and hold them,” Corr said, returning Finn’s steady gaze without expression. “It was for their own safety. The Nightbane have been driven back from the walls for now, but they are regrouping and the assault may begin again at any time.”

“You did this for our safety, Corr?” Finn cried, his eyes blazing. “Look what’s happened to Balor.”

“He will live to fight another day.”

“The question is,” said a voice from beyond the circle of men, “will any of you?”

Doctor Alazar made his way through the press of Stormriders, followed by a man Will had not seen before. He was older than Corr, his hair thin and greying, his face pale and deeply lined. There were dark rings under his eyes.

Alazar hurried to Balor’s side. The wildman groaned and raised his head.

“’Zar, good to see you,” he said groggily. “Did I beat that thing?”

“To a standstill, my friend,” the doctor said.

Balor grinned and closed his eyes. The golem still stood where it had dropped the wildman, as lifeless as a statue.

“Is he…?” Will asked the doctor, tears welling in his eyes.

“He lives,” Alazar said. “He’s just passed out, Will.”

The words came to Will again:
a friend will fall
. Balor fell to the golem’s strength, but he will live, Will thought with relief. And if all of the shadow’s predictions had come to pass, did that mean Rowen and Shade and Will’s other friends were safe now? Desperately he hoped it was so, but deep down he felt a faint dread still churning inside him.

“Yates,” Corr said to the man who had come with Alazar, “you should be resting.”

“I’ve been asleep long enough,” the man said in a hoarse voice. “I’m done with all of this, Corr. If you won’t let me go, you’ll have to kill me.”

Corr’s gaze locked with Yates’s for a long moment.

“Go where you will, then,” Corr said at last, turning away from him.

“He should be free of this place,” Alazar said. “You all should. I know now why the
gaal
is so important to Corr’s men, Finn. I know why they’re so desperate to drive the Nightbane from the dwarves’ city. They
need
the fever iron. After they’ve taken it a few times, their bodies crave it and sicken without it. Over time they need more and more of it to gain the fierceness in battle that it gives them. But the more they take, the more it poisons their bodies and minds.”