Grimalkin was dead, but she had left me this sword as her legacy. It might yet prove to be the edge that enabled us to triumph over the Kobalos and their gods.
We reached the stone steps, and I realized that I’d been wrong in thinking that all that remained of the witches were their pointy shoes. Our feet crunched on small pieces of bone as we climbed.
I looked up and wondered what awaited us within the tower. Was Lukrasta an ally or an enemy? If he was an ally, his magic might help us to destroy Talkus, which would make our task far easier.
At the top of the steps I paused and glanced back over my right shoulder, gazing at the hills and woods of Cymru with the sea sparkling in the distance. But I remembered seeing other views from that same vantage point. Lukrasta had the ability to move his tower through time. From here I had also gazed upon an arid landscape with a swollen red sun. We had been far in the future, close to the final days of the Earth’s existence.
Then, passing through a door within the tower, I had entered one of many possible futures – one in which Chipenden village had been destroyed by the Kobalos and many of the inhabitants slain. That catastrophe had not come to pass: I had managed to warn the villagers of the attack and helped to protect them.
What would I see this time? I wondered. What was waiting for me beyond that door?
I drew the Starblade. I was taking no chances.
Alice stepped forward and tried the door. It swung open silently at her touch. She stepped inside and beckoned to me.
‘Put that sword back in its scabbard, Tom,’ she said. ‘You won’t be needing it for a while.’
I followed her into a small room containing two couches and a table, the walls hung with tapestries. Plates of food were set out: cold meats, and fruits that I’d never seen before. They certainly hadn’t been grown in the County or Cymru.
‘Help yourself,’ Alice invited, ‘but you ain’t got long. Grimalkin can only visit the Earth after dark. The sun goes down in about ten minutes; when she arrives, all hell is likely to break loose!’
So much depended on Grimalkin completing the difficult task she’d been set. Only then could we play our part.
Alice and I ate quickly. We were hungry: since crossing the Mersey we had only eaten a few mouthfuls of crumbly cheese. Once we’d finished, Alice beckoned to me again. I followed her out of the room and along a short corridor. Ahead of us, steps led downwards and upwards: we went down and I counted them as we descended – there were over two hundred – but at last we emerged into a vast cylindrical chamber that at first glance appeared similar to the subterranean part of Malkin Tower.
But whereas the inner walls of that tower were mossy, this stone was pristine and the air was warm and dry; it was almost as if it had never been exposed to the elements. The wall torches shone brightly, showing that unlike the granite outside, the inside was limestone, like the pale spire of Priestown Cathedral. It gleamed in the torchlight.
And while inside Malkin Tower a spiral slope ran from top to bottom, here precipitous steps led directly down. We emerged onto a narrow walkway that skirted the inner wall. There was a safety rail but it did little to assuage my fear of falling into the vast void below. I couldn’t even see the bottom. At the centre of the cylindrical space, directly opposite us, a large metal cage hung by a single chain. It gleamed like silver, its base level with the walkway, and it stood five or six times the height of a man.
‘That’s where we’ll confine Talkus,’ Alice said, pointing. ‘It’s made of a silver alloy and we’ve woven our magic into it.’
‘Where’s Lukrasta?’ I asked her.
‘Nearby, he is, Tom. As soon as we get the god in the cage, he’ll be here to do his bit.’
Suddenly Alice’s eyes widened. She sniffed three times. I knew that she was gathering information – searching for something. ‘Grimalkin is almost here!’ she exclaimed.
No sooner had she spoken than the torches began to flicker; they didn’t go out completely, but they faded to a dull red like the dying embers of a fire. The area was plunged into gloom and the air felt distinctly chilly. Not only that: suddenly a more intense cold ran down my spine – that special warning that a seventh son of a seventh son receives when something from the dark draws near.
The approach of Grimalkin could have triggered that; after all, she was a dead witch assassin whose natural home was the dark. But the feeling was extremely powerful, greater than I had ever experienced before. Perhaps Talkus was in close pursuit.
There was a flash of silver, and suddenly an orb was floating in the air directly before the cage. It must have passed through the stone wall of the tower. Something dark was trailing behind it.
I’d hardly had time to take this in before the sphere entered the cage and instantly changed into the shape of Grimalkin. She was holding a slimy, blood-coated tube attached to a palpitating bag of purple-veined flesh about twice the size of a human head; no doubt this contained Talkus’s soul-stuff. She let it fall and it landed on the base of the cage, still twitching.
I studied Grimalkin: she looked slightly different from the witch assassin I remembered. Her hair was black as midnight – far darker than it had ever been in life – and there were dark shadows around her eyes. But her body was still crisscrossed with leather straps, scabbards holding her blades, and when she opened her mouth to speak, I could see her deadly pointy teeth.
But instead of calling out a friendly greeting, she glared at us, her face livid with anger. ‘I cannot leave the cage! What have you done? Free me, Alice! Free me before it is too late! Talkus will be here at any moment!’
Once Grimalkin had deposited the pouch in the cage she needed to get out quickly. Surely Alice wasn’t preventing her escape? I thought.
I turned towards her, shocked, and instantly read the puzzlement and dismay in her expression.
‘My magic isn’t holding you there, Grimalkin! It’s not my doing. Lukrasta! Lukrasta!’ she cried. ‘What have you done?’
Instantly the mage appeared on the walkway directly opposite us. He looked up at the cage and smiled, his new silver hands glittering at his sides against the darkness of his gown, then pointed at Grimalkin. ‘Now I will eliminate one who meddles even from beyond the grave!’ he shouted.
‘What harm has she done to you, Lukrasta? She’s our ally!’ Alice protested.
‘I need only one ally,’ he said, ‘and that is you, Alice. Together we shall be as gods. Pan and Golgoth are both weak after their recent battle and will remain that way for decades. After we destroy Talkus, who will be able to stand up to us? The Fiend is no more, and the power of the remaining Old Gods is fading. But Grimalkin poses an immediate threat that must be snuffed out before she grows too strong. Already she’s slain Hecate and usurped her power. I must put an end to her. Or rather, I will let Talkus do it for me!’
The chill running down my spine intensified, and then, suddenly, the tower began to shake. There was a low rumble and the stones beneath our feet vibrated alarmingly.
Talkus was approaching.
Alice raised her hands above her head and pointed towards the silver cage, which shimmered, and then seemed to twist and flex. She grimaced with the effort as she desperately tried to free Grimalkin before the god arrived.
Lukrasta’s face twisted with rage and he began to run along the walkway. Eyes fixed as she hurled magic against the cage, Alice didn’t see him coming – holding out his silver hands to throttle her.
I moved forward to intercept him on the narrow ledge, but I had to ease my way past Alice. I had the Starblade in my hand and would have attacked him, but he was too quick for me. In a second he’d pulled Alice back towards him and put his silver fingers about her neck.
‘Take three steps backwards or I’ll cut her throat!’ he warned me.
CHAPTER 29
THE SILVER CAGE
THOMAS WARD
I DIDN’T MOVE; I was calculating my chances of striking Lukrasta without harming Alice. Those metal fing
ers could slice through flesh like a knife through butter.
He had his left arm across her shoulders, holding her tight against his chest, the silver fingers at her throat. The mage was almost a head taller than Alice and a cut to that head would finish it. But could I strike before he slit her throat? My hands started to shake as I weighed up my chances of success.
‘I thought Alice was going to be your ally!’ I mocked, my voice heavy with sarcasm, desperately attempting to buy time. ‘All you care about is yourself.’
‘Three steps backwards! Do it now! I won’t tell you again,’ Lukrasta repeated.
I tensed for the strike. It would need to be perfect. I knew that I had the speed and the skill to succeed, but even in his death throes the mage might slay her.
I took three paces back and he smiled.
‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘Now lay the sword down at your feet.’
‘Don’t surrender the sword!’ I heard Grimalkin shout from the cage.
I stared at Lukrasta, but continued to grip the Starblade tightly. Once I put it down I’d be helpless against his magic. He would certainly kill me; he might kill Alice too, which would mean that I had achieved nothing.
‘Do it!’ he shouted angrily.
There was a sudden roar, as of rocks grinding together, and the tower shook to its foundations. A red orb passed through the wall and hovered directly before the silver cage: this was surely Talkus, the orb far larger than Grimalkin’s; could it even fit inside the cage?
Grimalkin stood facing it, blades drawn. But what could she do against a god? I wondered.
As the red orb floated into the cage, it took on another shape; one that was very large and roughly human, though with a long heavy tail ending in a curved blade, sharp bones along the spine, and a cladding of purple scales. I was surprised by Talkus’s appearance. I’d expected him to resemble a giant skelt, with multiple legs and a bone-tube.
He lunged for Grimalkin with a clawed hand, but she evaded it and thrust back with a blade, opening up a long cut on his arm. No doubt those scales were tougher than skin, but they were no defence against the sharp knives of the witch assassin. Black blood dripped onto the floor of the cage.
Next Talkus tried to snatch up the purple-veined pouch, but Grimalkin was too quick for him. She kicked it out of his reach and took up position in front of it. Once more she cut him, this time on the other arm, close to the wrist.
The god roared in pain and rushed at her, attempting to grab hold of her, but she was too agile. She slipped past him and sliced her blade across his ribs. He screamed in agony and attacked again, swinging his dangerous tail in a rapid arc towards her head.
I was transfixed by this struggle between Grimalkin and Talkus, but out of the corner of my eye I was also watching Lukrasta and Alice. She was staring straight at me, while his attention was partly on the conflict within the silver cage.
Was this the time to strike at him? I wondered. Suddenly I made up my mind. He was distracted: I’d never get a better chance. He’d be dead before he knew it; dead before he could harm Alice. I took three steps forward, concentrated, and swung the sword at his head in an arc from left to right.
But the Starblade never made contact with its target – for Lukrasta and Alice had vanished.
My heart plunged into my boots. The mage could have taken Alice anywhere. I might never see her again.
Then I noticed that the cage was beginning to swing to and fro like a pendulum: Talkus’s great bulk and weight blundered back and forth, his tail lashing against the silver bars as he attempted to reach Grimalkin.
To and fro went the cage, each swing bringing it closer to the walkway. I moved further around the curve of the wall, a desperate plan beginning to take shape within my mind.
I realized that Grimalkin couldn’t prevail against Talkus alone. I intended to try and help her: I needed her desperately now – for what hope did I have of finding Alice? Lukrasta could have taken her to the space between worlds, and from there they could have gone anywhere on Earth. But Grimalkin, who could enter from the dark at will, could surely find them. She was my only hope.
I sheathed the Starblade and climbed over the rail directly opposite the cage. It swung towards me, then away again. Each forward swing brought it a little nearer the rail. As it swung towards me again, I balanced myself, then launched myself into space.
I hit the cage hard, desperately scrabbling for a grip. My heart leaped into my mouth as I felt myself falling, but my hand found one of the vertical bars and I clung to it. The cage was designed to hold Talkus, who was much larger than me, so at least I could put my legs through.
The god still faced Grimalkin, his back to me; I thought he had failed to notice that I was there.
I was wrong.
He turned, snarled – then launched himself at me. Just in time, I reached up, drew the Starblade from my shoulder scabbard and plunged it into his chest.
I tried to withdraw it in order to stab him again, but to my dismay, no sooner had I pulled it out than Talkus took the blade in both huge hands. The sharp edges cut him to the bone and his blood began to flow, but still he held on. I could only use my left hand to grip the hilt of the Starblade; I needed my right to hold onto the cage.
Again and again Talkus butted his head against the bars, his fangs only inches from my face, his foul breath washing over me. He continued to tug at the sword; gradually it was being pulled out of my grasp.
Then, just as I was about to lose it, Grimalkin came at him from behind, plunging her daggers into his huge back. He released the sword and went after her again. Evading his attack, she picked up the pouch, repeatedly slicing into it with her blade. Pieces of it fell through the bars, and a fine grey mist rose up from the debris and began to dissipate.
Suddenly I heard a strange sound – a collective dolorous groan that had no visible source. Could it be the despairing cry of Kobalos mages from the space between worlds; mages who would appear in this tower were I to lose the Starblade? Perhaps they realized that Talkus’s full power was now lost to them; without his soul-stuff he would never reach his full potential.
Now Talkus was driven into a frenzy of violence. Instead of attacking Grimalkin, he vented his fury on the cage, battering it with his fists and tail, butting it with his head. The silver-alloy cage began to flex and distort, its pendulum movement becoming more extreme. At each swing its base crashed into the stones of the walkway.
I clung on desperately as each bone-jarring collision of metal and stone threatened to dislodge me. Then, from below, I felt a blast of heat and heard a bubbling roar.
I glanced down in alarm. Previously the base of the tower had been lost in darkness, but now I saw that it was a fiery red; a chaotic storm of molten rock churned and bubbled far below.
I realized that Lukrasta had used his magic to move the tower through time. The building was shielded by his power, but below us churned the fiery chaos of the distant past. We had travelled back to the earliest days of the world; to the time when it was a ball of molten rock.
Now the mage intended to let Talkus fall into the fires below. If they did not consume and destroy him immediately, the rock would eventually cool and solidify, binding him within its rigid embrace until such time as the Earth and all upon it were at an end.
But how would Lukrasta cause the cage to fall? It hung by a single chain. That would be the point of weakness.
Talkus struck the cage again, and a section of it broke away and fell into the fiery abyss. Instantly Grimalkin shifted back into the shape of a silver orb and soared out through the gap.
Talkus’s blow had damaged not only the cage but also the magic that confined him there. Grimalkin had managed to take advantage of this, but the god was too large to escape through the same gap. Why didn’t he shift his own shape? I wondered.
I needed to make my own escape, but the movement of the cage was so wild that I couldn’t balance and make a leap to safety. But then I saw Grimalkin standing
on the walkway, back in her human form.
‘Leap and I will catch you!’ she cried.
I sheathed the sword and prepared to do as she bade me, my heart in my mouth: the leap looked impossible, but it was my only chance.
The cage crashed into the stones at Grimalkin’s feet, and as it swung back, I leaped towards her, aware of the molten rock that lay far below. I felt her cold arms wrap themselves around me, and then she released me and I was standing safely on the walkway beside her.
The cage crashed back against the far wall. Talkus was still battering it, desperate to break free. Again it bashed against the walkway – but suddenly the chain from which it was suspended broke, or was snapped by the magical force emanating from Lukrasta.
Was he lurking nearby but invisible? I wondered.
For a moment the cage seemed to hover in the air. Then it plummeted.
As he fell into the abyss, the god let out a scream.
Finally the cage hit the red bubbling magma below, and there was a spurt of flame as it was engulfed.
Talkus was no longer a threat to us, and the human world was now safe – but I still had to rescue Alice.
I realized that my heart was pounding; I felt breathless and light-headed. I tried to calm myself by taking deep, steady breaths until at last I was able to speak. Then I looked at Grimalkin.
‘I owe you my life,’ I said to her. ‘But there is one thing more that I need to ask of you. Could you find Alice for me?’
‘Stay within the tower,’ she replied. ‘I will see what I can do.’
Immediately she shifted back into a silver orb and drifted through the wall. She was my only hope of ever seeing Alice again.
CHAPTER 30
THE TRUTH ABOUT ALICE
THOMAS WARD
I WAITED FOR Grimalkin’s return impatiently, pacing up and down the walkway. Far below, the base of the tower was once more in darkness, and I realized that we had moved through time again – but to which point on the line that led from the past into the future? Lukrasta controlled it. To which era had he taken us now?
Spook’s: Dark Assassin (The Starblade Chronicles) Page 17
