Dead Men Walking

by Raquel Lyon

  “Um... Just how big are these water nymphs?” she said with a note of alarm.

  “Five or six feet long,” Connor said. “But that was no nymph.”

  Piper turned to Lambert, now staring at her and gritting his teeth in an effort to speed up. “I had hoped for us to cross without incident,” he said. “Regrettably, that is not going to be the case. We must endeavour to reach shallower water as quickly as possible.”

  “Why? What was that?”

  “I... might have neglected to disclose a few details.”

  “Such as?”

  “To get home, we have to cross Voltignis land... and water.”

  Piper thought back to when she’d first read about Chimmeris. Pictures of the three types of Voltignis flashed before her eyes. “Are you saying that was a—”

  A roar of gushing water drowned out the remainder of her sentence. Close by, a huge shape rose from the depths, a deluge raining from the mounds and crevices of its form. Two black eyes stared down from under a brow of blue spikes. More spikes jutted from the back of the giant head and curved down over the turquoise scales of a serpentine neck that joined a long body looping in and out of the waves as it swam closer. It looked just like its picture. And if she’d remembered correctly, the steam puffing from the two gaping nostrils on the beast’s long snout were a product of the water heating in its belly—which was liable to shoot out of its mouth in a boiling blast of spray at any moment and was hot enough to scorch the skin from her back. This particular variety liked to cook their meals before they devoured them.

  “Faster!” Lambert shouted to Connor. “It won’t follow us ashore.”

  “It’s not me who’s the slow one,” Connor said. “Gimme that oar and I’ll prove it.”

  Lambert’s face grew hard and determined. “Please keep going. We are wasting time.”

  “Time I could make up if you gave me the oar.”

  “Um... guys? Do you think you could quit with the rivalry? We have a double problem.” She pointed to a second beast approaching them from the other side.

  “Remember your training, Piper.” Lambert grimaced.

  Her training? Yes, she remembered her training—‘Never presume your enemy works alone’—and yet it appeared Lambert expected her to work alone to fight it, when she’d hardly had any real-life experience and didn’t have a clue what she was doing. She needed help.

  Staring into the space where she knew the oars to be, she narrowed her eyes, picturing them anchored in their locks, and compelled them to rotate on their own. Shock crossed both boys’ features and their hands sprang open as their task was torn from them and the water churned at their sides faster than the wheel on a steamboat.

  Piper plastered on a smile. “Now you can stop arguing and help me out over here,” she said, cocking her thumbs over her shoulders to the advancing dragons.

  One of them was only yards away. Its jaws opened to reveal rows of needle-like teeth, which were quickly masked by a shot of water jetting from its cavernous mouth. Piper’s hand shot out and compelled the stream to coil back on itself and land on the beast’s own head, but it shook it away as a minor inconvenience and reared up again. She steeled herself for another attack as she stole a glance at the boys.

  On the starboard side, Lambert’s hands twisted, controlling a shield cupped over the other monstrous muzzle. Steam swirled inside it like smoke in a glass. The beast’s head writhed in an attempt to dislodge Connor’s wolf, now clinging to its neck with his fangs sunk deep into the scales.

  Piper’s attention was pulled back to her own attacker as it discharged a jet of steam in her direction. Too late to stop it, she ducked down into the boat, unfortunately not quick enough to avoid it hitting her arm. It took a second for her to register that her skin remained intact and her arm scald-free, but there wasn’t time to speculate on how she could have been that lucky. Through the haze she’d spotted a patch of blue. Summoning her fire, she took aim and shot one fireball after another towards it in the hope that one would hit its mark. But when the air cleared and all she saw were the last of the spikes disappearing under the surface, she was at a loss to know whether she’d been successful or not.

  She reeled around to see how the boys were handling things, her relief at the other beast also on the retreat blackened by the fact that it was sinking down to the depths with Connor still attached to its neck.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  THE BOAT HIT THE shore with a bump. Piper was thrown backwards, landing hard with her shoulders bashing against the seat, but she bit back the pain that shot across them. “We have to go back,” she said. “We have to find Connor.”

  Lambert offered her his hand. “He’s gone, Piper. He’s been under too long.”

  “No. No, he’ll be fine,” she said, halting the moving oars as they churned up a shower of pebbles. “Werewolves can’t drown. Sophie told me that when she was explaining about Seth.”

  “Did she mention if they could be eaten?”

  Piper reeled around. “Don’t say that.”

  “I only speak the truth.”

  “And you don’t sound too upset about it, either.”

  “He was the one who wanted to come.”

  “And we’d probably be dead under a pile of molten lava if he hadn’t. What if it were me out there?” She glanced out over the water.

  “It is not.”

  “But what if it were?” she said, turning back.

  “Piper. I have seen many men fall victim to the Voltignis; it is an honourable death. We were extremely lucky to survive one attack. I doubt our luck would hold for a second.”

  “How do we know unless we try?”

  “Try what?” Connor’s voice surprised her from behind. Human again, he was strolling from the water smoothing back his wet hair. “Those things are a devil to kill. Wouldn’t stay down, that one.”

  Piper faced Lambert and grinned. “I told you.”

  He gave a grudging nod. “It is time we were on our way. North,” he said, pointing to a cluster of rocks on the horizon and stepping forward, “to Charton Ridge.”

  *****

  With the lake now so far behind them that Piper could no longer see it, they approached the ridge and began to climb. Her legs screamed for rest and her lungs felt as if they’d shrunk to half their size. Lambert had said the journey would be hard, but when she’d thought about it, she’d pictured it as being more of a long walk than a mountain-climbing expedition.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t take another step, the terrain evened out and Lambert waved for her to follow him into an opening between two slabs of rock, where walls of cliffs loomed high on either side of a pass and shut out all but the weakest of light. As they entered the narrow opening leading to the other side, the sound of their feet thudding against the well-trodden path echoed through the passageway and mingled with the whistling wind.

  Piper grew uneasy. She felt as if someone was watching her, and looked over her shoulder on more than one occasion.

  “Not far now,” Lambert said. “When we reach the open, head for the trees on the right.”

  Piper was about to ask why he was telling them that now when her stomach gave a loud rumble and distracted her. She tasted bile in her throat and, estimating it must be about mid-afternoon, could only conclude that all the exercise had made her overly hungry.

  Connor stopped short and held his arms wide. “Wait.”

  “What is it?” Piper asked.

  “Something’s moving in the rocks above us,” he said, his eyes wary.

  “How do you know?”

  He flicked his ear. “Good hearing.”

  Piper’s eyes shot up in time to see fragments of scree begin tumbling towards them. Then larger rocks crumbled and fell. She stepped out of their range without taking her eyes away from the spot above where they had originated. Connor was right. It wasn’t just a landslide. There was definitely something up there.

  Slowly a shape began to peel away from
the cliff side and take form. Piper found it mesmerising, almost enchanting, until she realised what the shape was.

  Out of the dust, a dragon rose and took flight.

  Lambert tugged on her arm. “We need to get out of here. Run!”

  Her legs bashed against the sides of her skirt and tangled in the folds as he dragged her out of the passageway. “That was one of the other kinds, wasn’t it?” she asked, panting as she struggled to keep up.

  “Yes. The guardians have detected us.”

  She could hear them coming, their huge wings beating slowly overhead. “What are they guarding?”

  “The border, and we are almost there. Follow the cliff around until you get to the trees. The closer you keep to the side, the harder it will be for them to attack.” He dropped her hand and pushed her forward. “Get to shelter.”

  She stopped and spun round. “No. Not without you.”

  “Piper, this is not the time to be stubborn. Move.”

  “No. I’m staying with you.”

  “You really are the most annoying—”

  “Watch out!” Connor yelled.

  Behind them, a monster sliced through the air, heading straight for them. Spikes crested its back, and its scales rippled in multiple shades of brown as it wove towards them. It didn’t seem to notice the wall of rock they stood in front of, and narrowed its wings as it dived. Piper flung herself to the ground and rolled to the side as it hit the cliff face with a powerful, defining thud. Spotting her chance while it was momentarily stunned, she threw the biggest fireball she could muster at its head.

  “Do not waste your strength, sister,” Lambert said, pulling her to her feet. “This type is immune to fire. Now move before it recovers.”

  The canopy of trees was almost within reach when the beast’s shadow covered them and its roar sent a blast of putrid air whistling past their ears. Piper glanced up. Huge claws hung from under its belly, tipped with knife-like talons. Lambert tugged her down as it swooped over their heads, missing them by inches, then shot a stun bolt as it departed. He missed, and as they continued to flee, Piper noticed two more beasts joining it in the sky. They circled and approached again, each coming from a different angle.

  Piper stopped running. “We’re trapped.”

  At her side, Connor had transformed, and when the first creature dived low enough, he bounded high and leapt onto its neck, claws extended. His mount twisted and writhed to dislodge him, but he held fast, hooking his arms around its giant snout and forcing its jaws apart. Piper averted her eyes, not wanting to witness its mouth being ripped in two as Lambert pushed her behind him and sent out crackling rays in every direction. Piper would have found their sparkling colours breathtaking were she not terrified of the barbed head focused on her and looming in. She pulled the dagger from her waistband. It looked too small to do any damage to her attacker’s solid bulk, but with her fire apparently ineffective, she was determined to have something to defend herself with.

  When the dragon was almost upon her, she took aim and hurled the dagger towards its belly, willing it to hit its mark. It pierced through the scales, and the beast recoiled with a screech but didn’t fall. Its tail lashed out, sweeping dust from the dry earth at Piper’s feet and clouding her vision. She turned to shelter her face behind Lambert but couldn’t feel him anywhere. It wasn’t until the dust dispersed she discovered why.

  Overhead, Lambert’s limp body was flying into the distance encased in Voltignis claws. In a state of panic, Piper left the safety of the cliff and ran out into the open screaming his name. She realised her mistake too late as she too was swept up into the sky.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  CONNOR INCHED FURTHER behind the wall to avoid a passer-by. It might be dark, but come morning, even in his human form, he would stick out like a fairy at a vamp ball amongst these inhabitants. Whatever this species was, it was nothing like the one he’d dressed to blend in with. There had to be demon blood in them somewhere. Their bodies, though human in structure, appeared stretched—with long limbs and a slightly elongated head—and beneath their robes of simple white muslin tied with a rope belt, red veins ran under their pale brown skin in spidery patterns.

  By the time he’d split the jaw of that scaly beast apart, its comrades already had the jump on him, their huge wings flying over the rugged landscape with ease. But he was faster, and he’d arrived at this town as they’d dropped Piper and Lambert into a waiting net. He’d watched from a safe distance as they were collected and carried away.

  Around the corner, a door opened, and through a shot of steam, a female exited pushing a wooden cart piled high with neatly folded squares of white. She turned to secure the door. Connor tripped sneakily up to the cart and back again, holding one of the white squares, before she’d finished turning the key.

  He hooked the robe over his head, and as it fell into place, he swung around and headed back the way he’d come, keeping to the shadows. Not too far back, he’d passed something that would aid with his disguise. His only hope was that he could pull it off.

  A few yards down the path, he reached the field. The boars sensed his approach, but made no sound as he stole the rope tie from the gate and bent to smear his face with mud. He sat down behind a drystone wall to wait for it to dry, and succumbed to a small nap.

  He awoke with a start and kicked himself for losing time. Anything could have happened while he was out of it, but he was pleased to see it was still dark. That was something. He felt around to find a twig, then crept towards the farmhouse. Under the flickering candlelight radiating from a window, he bit into his arm, stuck the pointed wood into the blood, and used the window as a mirror to paint lines over the dried mud covering his face. It would have to do. He threw the stick aside, then made his way back to town.

  *****

  Piper didn’t need to open her eyes to know that, wherever she was, it was dark—dark and damp. There was a scuffling noise somewhere not too far away, but she was hesitant to open her eyes. Opening her eyes would mean accepting that she wasn’t dreaming, and having to face whatever terror had taken her, out there beyond the darkness. Dreaming might not be real but it was safe. Reality, she knew, wasn’t.

  Her skirt lay heavily against her legs, and she moved her fingers over the ground beside her. Earth. Grainy and wet like her clothes. The air was crisp and musty, and she could almost feel the spores clouding her lungs, but at least she was alive.

  She should be dead, and was extremely grateful to know that that wasn’t the case, but she wished she knew why. She tried to remember what had happened and how she’d ended up where she was, but her memory was blank from the moment she’d been scooped up in that deathly grip. She knew now how Connor must feel, searching for a part of his life he knew existed but had vanished without reason.

  The last she’d seen of Connor, he’d been battling his own assailant, and she prayed he’d managed to conquer it, and not that he, too, had succumbed to the huge claws as Lambert and she had.

  Tears grew behind her eyelids as she thought of Lambert’s drooping body fading from her sight. She could only hope that his lifelessness was due to the unconscious state she had clearly been in, and not that he was dead. That was a prospect she wasn’t ready to face.

  Pushing to standing, she forced open her eyes. It didn’t make much difference. The darkness continued. Above her, it seemed to stretch into the distance, but if that was the sky, night had fallen—a starless, moonless night that, as far as she knew, could well be the norm for Chimmeris.

  She flicked her fingers to form a flame but none came, and she bit her lip, perplexed. She had used a lot of her power in the battle, but had she really exhausted it all? It appeared she would have to do things the hard way, and the first thing she needed to do was to find out where she was. Then she could begin searching for the boys.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she stepped forward and attempted to gauge the layout of her location by taking small steps. It took only three to reach the firs
t wall, which felt almost identical to the ground. Rotating ninety degrees, she tried again, getting further this time before hitting another barrier. She cursed and set off again, treading carefully until her feet bumped against something soft and she almost stumbled.

  “No. No more,” a girl’s voice mumbled woefully.

  Piper squatted down and patted along the mound of rag-covered flesh. “Hello.”

  “I cannot do it,” the girl said. “I cannot.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The girl pulled back from Piper’s touch. “Uh... Who are you?”

  “My name is Piper. What’s yours?”

  She faltered slightly as she answered. “Rhea. I thought they had returned early.”

  “Who?”

  “The guards.”

  Guards? “Where are we?”

  Piper sensed Rhea sitting up, and when she spoke, her voice was level and almost a whisper. “Are you new?” Rhea asked.

  “New?”

  “A new captive?”

  “I don’t know. Is this a prison?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Then I guess I am. How long have you been here?”

  “It seems like forever,” Rhea said. “Not as long as some, but longer than most.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I survived the assessment. Most do not.”

  “What assessment?”

  “To see if you are a descendant of the great sorceress. You must not have had it yet.”

  Piper’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness and the girl emerged as a dark shape, but all Piper could make out was the fact that she had long, straggly hair. “No.”

  “Then I am sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “They believe that only one of her true heirs will possess the ability to reverse the curse,” Rhea said. “If you are not a descendant, you will be killed. If you are, your magic will be appraised, and if you cannot cast, you will be killed.”