The Flight of the Griffin (24 page)

‘But why?’ asked Pardigan.

‘At a guess I’d say they’re looking for us,’ said Tarent, ‘maybe trying to flush us out. King Cahlrik, I’m sorry we’ve brought this to your city, but this is Chaos. These demons, or night-walkers as you call them, are trying to stop the great spell from being completed and this is the world they would have us all live in, a world filled with demons, misery and fear.’

Cahlrik stared at Tarent, then out at his city falling around him, the screams of his people and the dying groans of the ancient trees as they fell. He took Tarent’s arm. ‘Come,’ was all he said as he headed off at a run.

‘You go,’ said Loras. ‘I’m going to help; at least I can fight magic with magic.’

‘I’m going to fight as well,’ said Quint. ‘But I need to get on that ship somehow.’ Groober pulled his arm, ‘I’ll get you on.’ They ran off together as Loras walked towards a stairway.

Pardigan and Tarent followed the king as he led them down to ground level via a winding series of stairs and walkways. When they were on firm ground they started to run through the trees, away from the devastation. Cahlrik stopped a few times to offer encouragement to his subjects but then quickly moved on.

‘I’m going to take you to the tree,’ he shouted behind him to the two running figures. ‘If the night-walkers want to stop you getting that skull, then I think the only way I can save my people is to help
you get it. Maybe you were right and it’s time we were rid of it.’ Tarent glanced at Pardigan but said nothing as they jogged on after the figure of the small king.

Quint could clearly see Loras standing on a platform. The magician was sending pulse after pulse of energy at the strange ship, which was now slowly turning towards him. Fires were blazing on its deck and he could see it was going to pass close to where he was, but wasn’t sure if it would be close enough. Mahra was standing beside him.

‘Fly over and see if Loras can make the ship come towards me here, I have to get onboard.’

Mahra pitched forward and the snowy white owl flew out through the trees towards Loras. A few moments later he saw her land close to his friend and resume her human shape. After a brief conversation, Loras stopped the energy bursts and held out his hands differently, gently moving them from side to side. Quint couldn’t see what he was doing, but sure enough, the huge ship started altering course to come closer to him. He could see the black hooded shapes of the demons, distracted from dropping explosives; they were clustered around their leader offering him the protection of their bodies as he continued to spin his magic. His arms lifted and a red ball of energy went spinning towards Loras’s platform. Loras flung his arms to the side and the red ball dipped harmlessly away towards the forest floor, Quint could just make out the smile on Loras’s face.

The ship was getting closer now, Quint grabbed Groober’s arm. ‘Go and help your people, get them away, because we’re going to bring this ship down or die trying.’ With that he raised his bow and fired off three arrows one after another to distract the demon group then took a mighty run along an outstretched branch and leapt, half flying and half falling, towards the massive boat as it passed about three spans below. He landed with a thump, rolled into a ball, and came up slashing his sword. It sliced down the back of the closest demon which spun with a shrill scream, flinging its cloak back to show a black twisted face. It hissed at him, mouth agape with row upon row of needle-sharp teeth. Quint’s sword flashed past and went deep into its eye, its only vulnerable spot, and with a new scream, this time of pain, the demon threw its hands up, gripped the sword, and fell to its knees in a spreading pool of sticky black blood. With a wrenching twist, Quint withdrew the sword and sought his next demon. It had all happened in an instant and the rest were still ignorant of the danger in their midst, allowing Quint to dispatch another before he found himself facing three new demons, now very aware of his presence. This time, they wouldn’t be caught by surprise. Two others were hurrying their leader to the front of the boat as he continued to battle magic with Loras.

The three demons spread out around Quint, slowly drawing massive swords from their scabbards. They hissed and growled as they closed in.

Okay, Loras, this would be a really good time to throw something in this direction, thought Quint as the first of the three demons launched its attack.

****

Chapter 16

Different Paths

The path was long and winding, taking them well away from the sounds of battle.

‘I hope your friends can help my people,’ puffed Cahlrik. ‘We never expected to be attacked by anyone.’ He slowed to a trot, allowing Tarent to catch up.

‘I’m sure Loras and Quint will give them something to think about. The demons’ attack will probably be focused on them by now.’ Tarent glanced around him as he ran. ‘How much further is it?’

‘It’s just a little way up here, on the cliff…see, you can just make out the clearing.’ Cahlrik pointed up along the path and sure enough they could see the brightness of blue sky between the trees.

They emerged into an open area on the edge of a cliff and fell to the ground panting. The Tree of Truth stood before them, the sound of the sea crashing some thirty spans below on the cliffs. The tree’s great trunk was twisted with age and its heavy branches hung low to the ground casting great shadows around its base. Massive roots gripped the earth like old gnarled fingers, as if it were aware that one day, as the cliff eroded, it would drop to the sea below but would cling on to the very last moment.

‘What sort of tree is it?’ asked Pardigan staring up in awe.

The air around them calmed and the sound of the sea became much softer.
‘This is a place of tranquillity, an island within the realities of life. I am the skull you seek, named The Tree of Truth by the Hidden people. My gift to the Hidden has been to see into a soul and call forth a being's destiny;
that
is the sort of tree I am.’ The voice they heard was deep and dry; it was as if they were being spoken to from a distant, ancient time.

‘Oh, Source, I think I’m getting used to speaking things, ’cos that hardly shocked me at all.’ Pardigan grinned, then glanced back and saw King Cahlrik holding back, apparently unhappy to be this close to the ancient tree.

‘What truth would you know? What secret shall I call forth from your soul? You, Cahlrik, do you once more seek your destiny? A time ago we spoke at length, now you rarely come at all.’ The voice sounded sad and a feeling of great loss and remorse filled them all. The king took several steps further back.

‘You are troubled, Cahlrik, your soul reveals all to me. I know today is not a good day for your people but remember, it is only one day in many, and the pain you receive today is the price the Hidden pay in the whole scheme of things. I am aware of why these young people are here, I know what they seek and why they seek it; my own destiny has been revealed to me at the right time, as was intended. I am needed now for a greater task. The burden placed upon your people has now been lifted; you will no longer have to hide from the world of man.’

The tree gave what sounded like a giant sob. ‘Heroes, take the skull.’

At the base of the tree the ground started to swell and a blue glow lit the shadows. Little by little the crystal skull was forced to the surface until it rested on the grass, lit by a thin ray of sunlight. Leaves began to drop from the branches and tears fell from the king’s eyes. Around them, smoke from the burning city was now clouding the sky and it was becoming much darker.

Pardigan picked up the skull and wrapped it in a fold of cloth before slipping it into his bag. ‘What do we do now?’ He coughed as the smoke swirled around them.

Tarent covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve and shrugged. ‘I’m not sure, have you got the book?’ The king watched as the two heroes took out the tattered book and slipped the knife into the spine.

‘There’s a new page!’ exclaimed Pardigan excitedly. Cahlrik came over to see what they were studying.

‘What’s that?’ he asked.

‘It’s
The Book of Challenges
, it's sort of like the guide to our Quest,’ explained Tarent. ‘Each page opens only after the last part has been completed.’ They studied the now visible page.

Cahlrik made a snorting sound. ‘Well I don’t like the sound of that! Mudlarks, guided down through hell, and I’m not sure what a flail is either but I’m glad I won’t be finding out any time soon. Seems as though I’m not the only one having a bad day, doesn’t it?’ Pardigan and Tarent both stared at the little king.

‘I thought you were in deep mourning for the loss of your tree and the devastation of your people?’ said Pardigan glancing towards the sad sight of the tree. It had already lost most of its leaves, its old, once proud branches drooping sadly to the floor.

‘Oh I am, I am, but the curse has been lifted and we Hidden can’t stay down for long.’

‘You were down for years when…ouch!’ Tarent elbowed Pardigan in the ribs and gave him a glare before studying the book again.

‘It’s fairly clear. We’re to leave in two groups, probably to keep the skulls separate. One group will fly,’ Pardigan shrugged. ‘Okay, well that’s not us, is it? But two will sail. Do you think we’re meant to go back for the
Griffin
?

Tarent shook his head. ‘We have the skull. I think it would be too risky to return to the port. King Cahlrik, do you know of a boat we can use?’

Cahlrik nodded. ‘Follow me.’

The king led them down a small sandy path towards the sounds of the sea, and eventually, to a small boat a little over half the size of
The
Griffin
. It was in fair condition and would get them to Freya as long as they could work out which direction to point it in. They said their good-byes to the king and he helped them cast off.

‘Please ask Mahra to come and find us; tell her we can explain what the book is saying.’ Cahlrik agreed happily and waved them goodbye.

‘Hope you find a good name,’ called Pardigan. ‘Now that you don’t need to hide anymore I mean.’ The sails were set and the little boat glided out through the overhanging trees and away towards open sea, picking its way carefully between the reef heads.

With the wind in their hair once more, Tarent and Pardigan smiled at each other then Pardigan gave a whoop of joy.

‘Let’s just hope the others can get out of there without getting hurt and meet us somewhere.’

‘Dhurban, I’m pretty sure the book is talking about that huge city in the middle of the desert, Dhurban.’ Tarent twitched the helm past the last reef and Pardigan went to haul up the forward sail. He stopped and glanced back as the little boat carried them out and away from the
Island of Minster. The smoke seemed to be lessening and he wondered how the others had got on.

****

The sword that flashed past Quint’s unprotected face was so close that he felt the soft breeze of its movement kiss his cheek as it passed. He was facing two demons, having finally dispatched another a few moments earlier. He was tiring now and it was taking a lot of effort to keep the sword raised and in a position to deflect the heavy blows from the demons that towered over him. Because they were so much bigger than he was, he couldn’t block their swords so was twisting and turning in a deadly dance, using their force and momentum against them whilst seeking an opening. After parrying yet another fierce strike, he glanced up and realised that he’d left his defences open. For an instant, as he braced himself to receive the blow he felt sure was coming, a flurry of feathers exploded onto the scene and a great white owl with claws outstretched, flew into the attacking demon’s face letting out a terrifying screech as she did so. The demon mis-struck its blow and Quint quickly seized the opportunity to bury his knife deep into its eye, sinking the blade to the hilt as he deflected yet another assault from its companion. With a great howl the dying demon stumbled to the side of the boat, black blood splashing over the deck and, giddy in its confusion and agony, it fell over the edge; its scream falling with it to the forest floor. One demon still remained but it was holding back, cautiously seeking a weakness in Quint’s failing defences.

The flying boat was fast approaching Loras as he continued to send bursts of magic at the figure on the fore deck. Belial’s two remaining guards were unsure from which direction to protect him. They were all too aware that four of their comrades had now fallen to Quint’s blade, and only one of their kind now stood in the way of him turning to attack them. Belial was oblivious to most of this and was still throwing everything he had at the small boy on the platform. He was infuriated that none of his powers had so far had any real effect on the young magician. He snarled and bellowed as his hands thrashed back and forth throwing lances of red power at his adversary, only to see them pushed to the side and a blue ball of hateful Order energy hurled back at him. It hurt when he reached out to deflect these blue spheres; it felt like ice creeping up his arm each time he touched one. His energy was almost drained and he was now searching desperately for escape.