Dark Embers

by R. L. Giddings

  “I don’t see him,” I said out loud, making no effort to disguise what I was doing.

  We were almost level with the river now but, as I scanned backwards and forwards, I saw no sign of any boats.

  “Are you sure?” Millie said, her voice beginning to break up. “He should be there by now.”

  I checked again but could see nothing. What I could see was Macrory dismantling part of the terrace decorations. There were two torches at either end and he was standing on his chair trying to release the one nearest to him.

  I didn’t question him this time, just went over to the other torch and started trying to wrestle it free. The couple were watching my every move.

  “Great party, eh?” I said.

  They nodded in reply.

  The torch came out of its holder eventually but the handle was hot to the touch.

  “Here! Take this,” I gave the torch to Macrory. Then I took his chair and stacked it on top of mine. That way I could carry them in one hand and the net in the other.

  We were negotiating our way down the last few steps to the riverside when I looked up to see a white cruiser rounding the bend. The driver was waving at us.

  “Who’s that?” Macrory was instantly suspicious.

  “I think that’s Edwin.”

  “Really? Is this the guy Millie’s got her eye on?”

  “The very same.”

  The ground between the decking and the edge of the river was seriously over-grown, in direct contrast with the rest of the house, and we had to kick our way through the weeds to get to the river’s edge. Macrory had to watch that his torches didn’t set fire to something.

  The sound of the boat’s engine switched to idling and Edwin, wearing a bright yellow water-proof, steered it towards where we were standing.

  He eased back on the throttle at the last minute, striking the jetty with some force and almost pitching Macrory into the river.

  Edwin produced a length of rope.

  “Is there somewhere you can tie this up?”

  “We haven’t got time,” I said, throwing the net across the front of the boat.

  Edwin pointed at Macrory’s torches. “You’re not bringing those on board.”

  “Just take one,” Macrory said. The boat was moving away from us. We had to be quick.

  “You can’t bring those on here. Not with all this gasoline.”

  Macrory threw one of the torches to Edwin, who caught it despite himself. I placed the chairs in the back of the boat then turned to help Macrory who was having difficulty getting aboard. I took the other torch when I realised that he was going to need both hands to clamber aboard. Edwin moved to help him but Macrory warned him off. Eventually, he sort of fell into the deck while I stepped over the rail.

  Edwin gave Macrory his torch back and then returned to the controls, steering us back into the centre of the river.

  As the boat gained speed, I looked back at the house. There was a figure standing on the top level of the decking watching us. I couldn’t swear to it but I was pretty sure that was Cardoza. He stood out, looking malevolent against the darkening sky.

  *

  I held my torch out over the side of the boat, threatening to drop it.

  “What are those?” I was looking directly at Macrory. “Those things? What are they?”

  Macrory’s head dropped. “Fire drakes.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No. They’re the real deal alright. Salazar must have sent them.”

  Edwin leaned back from the tiller. “Did I hear right? Fire drakes?”

  Macrory said, “You heard right.”

  “But aren’t they, like, incredibly dangerous?”

  “Hence the blazing torches.”

  Edwin let out a long breath, shaking his head.

  I said, “Can’t you make this thing go any faster?”

  Edwin pushed the throttle as high as it would go and I watched as our wash broke against the bank.

  The first one flew straight at us. It ignored Macrory and me, aiming straight for Edwin’s head. Its talons raked the back of his jacket but failed to gain purchase.

  Once it had gone, Edwin fell to his knees and watched the creature as it struggled to gain altitude. “That thing’s enormous!”

  “Big enough to carry away a small horse,” Macrory pointed out.

  Edwin turned to me. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  I held up a reassuring hand. “Okay. We’ll sort it.”

  I stepped up onto the row of seating at the back of the boat, the heat from the torch wafting against my face, “Macrory. Get up here, now.”

  “That doesn’t look safe.”

  “Hurry up, they’re coming!”

  Two of the fire drakes were flying together, low over the river. The one to the left was a pale green, the one to our right, a light mauve colour. They appeared to be in no hurry, splitting up before approaching from either side.

  They had the over-sized head of an eagle and a body covered in thick, spatula-like feathers. Both of them had long plume feathers radiating around their heads. They looked too big to fly, yet they managed it with ease.

  I handed my torch to Macrory and climbed up onto the back of the boat.

  “What are you doing?” Macrory said.

  I ignored him, trying to focus on conjuring a spell.

  “You’re wasting your time,” he said.

  As the mauve one drew closer, I set my shoulders and readied myself. With one pulse of its wings, the fire drake surged forward, roaring out a challenge.

  The sound of its voice unnerved me so much that I fired off the spell without thinking. The thing was less than twenty metres away - easily within striking distance - but, as the ball of luminescence surged towards it, the fire drake tucked in its wings, and banked gently away to its left, the spell disappearing off into the distance.

  I knew that Macrory was watching so I tried again. Twice more I tried to hit it yet, on every occasion, the result was the same.

  “You could try a different spell,” Macrory smirked.

  But I’d had enough. As I climbed back down into the cabin area, Macrory handed me my torch. I took it but refused to look at him.

  When the same creature angled in at us from the port side, I had to step along the side of the boat and thrust the torch out in an attempt to discourage it. The creature squawked then drove its head in my direction letting loose a gout of flame which incinerated the union flag flying at the back. Then, with one pulse of its wings, it dropped back, moving over to the far bank to re-join its fellow.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Like I said: they’re fire drakes,” Macrory pointed out. “You’ve got to be careful.”

  “But they’re not even frightened of us!”

  “Why should they be?”

  It took a moment for that to sink in.

  “There’s a bridge coming up,” Edwin’s voice was pitched unnaturally high. “What say we pull in there?”

  “Won’t stop them,” Macrory said. “They’ll just going to keep on coming.”

  The concrete bridge looked solid enough. It would be difficult for the fire drakes to even see us while we were under there, let alone attack us.

  “Look,” I said. “This is ridiculous. They’re just going to try and pick us off. We need a plan.”

  *

  We sheltered under the bridge while we decided what we were going to do next. All the time, we were aware of at least one of the creatures wheeling around over-head, trying to get the measure of us.

  “I’m not sure,” I said as I surveyed our makeshift weapons. “I think it’s very risky. There’s more than one of them and, we only get one chance at this.”

  “I think she’s right,” Edwin looked at the tools laid out in front of us. “It’s too risky. Isn’t there something else we could do?”

  But Macrory was adamant. “There isn’t. We have to be methodical and target them one at a time.”

&nb
sp; *

  This time, once we had left the safety of the bridge, Macrory was at the helm. He was wearing Edwin’s waterproof with the hood pulled up. In the diminishing light, it was standing out more as a target. We had fixed the two torches either side of the wind-screen. They weren’t particularly secure but it would have to do. That way, Edwin and I would have both hands free for the second part of our plan.

  We lay on the deck, heads pointing to the prow, hoping that we couldn’t be seen. We wanted to confuse our pursuers by making them think that we’d somehow abandoned ship. We hoped to remain hidden until the very last moment when we would bring the final part of our plan into action. The problem was that we could see very little of what might be happening around us and would therefore have to rely on Macrory for instructions.

  We had only travelled a few hundred metres when the first attack came.

  “Two of them coming in from the rear. The green one’s sticking to the bank but that purple sod’s right behind us, trying to stay in my blind-spot.”

  “What about the other one?” Edwin asked.

  “Old Bluey? Nothing so far.”

  “But you can see the other two?”

  “Yes. Only that green one keeps going out wide so I have to turn to get a decent look at him.”

  “Seems like they’ve done this before,” I said.

  “Many times. Look, there’s a bridge coming up in a minute. Do you think we should stop?”

  I consulted with Edwin who shook his head.

  “No, just keep going.”

  There was nothing for us to do now but wait. Although it was tempting to sit up and take a look around, there was a good chance we’d be seen and lose our advantage. There was nothing for it but to wait.

  “They’re coming,” Macrory’s voice sounded grave.

  “Which one?”

  “The purple one. He’s picking up the pace – trying to get closer. Are you two ready? We’re only going to get one shot at this.”

  At that, we both sat up and started to unfurl the netting. There was a length of thick tape running along the top and we worked around that. It all seemed very peaceful just sitting there. The sun was starting to set, bathing Macrory and the front of the boat in a golden glow.

  “Anything?”

  Macrory didn’t answer straight away.

  Then he said, “No, looks like they’re backing off. They’re going to come at us again once we’ve cleared the bridge.”

  I flopped forward onto my knees, my breath coming out in a belaboured sigh. I considered putting the netting aside for a second but then thought better of it.

  The next attack happened just as we passed under the shadow of the bridge.

  The blue fire-drake must have been perched above us, on the bridge’s highest parapet. From there, it would have been able to look straight down on us so that as soon as the prow of our boat appeared it could drop straight down on us.

  All I remember was that everything suddenly went dark and I then was being struck about the head. I tried to get to my feet but was repeatedly beaten down again. The drake had landed directly on top of Macrory, pinning him to the control panel with its talons.

  “Get him off!” Macrory yelled. “He’s crushing me.”

  Unable to garner a stable footing, the drake was pitching over backwards, beating its wings madly in an attempt to compensate. Again, I attempted to stand but the force of the downbeats was just too great. Edwin had fallen onto his side, raising his arm to protect himself.

  Macrory was clearly in a great deal of distress, clutching hold of the throttle as if his life depended on it. When you come to think of it, Macrory probably weighs a lot less than a small horse.

  In order to evade the merciless wing beats, I pushed myself over into the corner of the tiny cockpit and from there I was able to stand. I caught a glimpse of Macrory’s yellow jacket, now slick with blood and then turned so that I was facing away from the creature. Hot sparks were being wafted against my chest, threatening to set fire to my dress. It took me a beat to realise where they were coming from. I reached out an arm and carefully felt for the torch’s handle. It was more difficult than I’d imagined, pulling it free but eventually I managed it, sparks being driven towards my face, fanned by the fire drake’s exertions.

  “Hold on, Macrory!”

  I shielded the torch with my body, it was in danger of guttering out and it took a few moments for it to regain its fierce intensity. Then I just span around, lunging at the drake’s head but striking the wing instead. Fresh sparks exploded from the contact, partially blinding me and I reeled away. From what little I could see I could make out that the creature was now orientated away from me, hanging over the right hand side of the boat. I determined to drive it off for good, delaying my attack for just the right moment.

  “Just do it!” Edwin shouted.

  I threw myself forward, aiming for the centre of its chest but the creature was far quicker than I’d anticipated. As I came within range, its beak caught me across the knuckles knocking the torch out of my hands. It landed in the river still upright and, for a brief time, continued to burn until it was extinguished by a breaking bow wave. My heart sank with it.

  The fire-drake pulled itself around in an anti-clockwise direction, bringing itself about. It relinquished its hold on Macrory, grappling to gain purchase on the boat’s prow. Of the other torch, there was no sign.

  “Bronte! Bronte!”

  Edwin was kneeling up, his head covered with a myriad of tiny cuts from where he’d been caught by the quill-like feathers.

  “The knife! Do you still have it?”

  But before I had time to think, a ball of white-hot flame rolled across the top of the boat and I dropped to the floor.

  Brimstone, I remember thinking. That’s interesting.

  I threw myself over to my left in a bid to get out of the line of fire but, at the same time, reached around to locate the envelope which was tucked down the back of my trousers. I quickly unfolded it before reaching in and grasping the handle. The whole thing came away in one smooth movement.

  The black blade glinted as I hurled myself forward. My first blow caught the animal across the upper thigh. Then I transferred the blade to an over-hand grip and stabbed at its chest, again and again.

  From every fresh wound a tiny pinpoint of light radiated, until it looked like the creature was being illuminated from the inside. The fire drake pulled its head back and let out a terrible screech. The glass in the front windshield shattered as the creature braced itself for take-off. Then, with one beat of its huge wings, it propelled itself up into the air.

  But the damage had been done and, as it struggled to gain height, the light in its chest grew brighter. I had to look away then, the intensity becoming too great but, even as I looked down the deck was illuminated with strange, shifting shadows. When I looked again, the fire-drake had become no more substantial than a veil. It hung there for a few moment before the wind gently teased it apart.

  Edwin pulled himself to his feet, wiping at the feathers sticking to his clothes.

  “Looks like they’re off as well.”

  The other two creatures had abandoned the attack and were flying back along the river into the face of the setting sun.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I sat with Edwin in the hospital’s waiting room while we waited for news about Macrory. He’d gone off to get us some drinks and had come back not with coffee or tea but some kind of energy drink. I told him that I’d save mine until later.

  We’d met up with Millie at the pre-arranged rendezvous point a couple of miles downriver. It had taken the three of us to transfer the unconscious form of Macrory to the car. He’d lost a lot of blood by this point and so we decided to take him straight to the hospital.

  The nurse on reception had taken one look at him and rushed him into a separate consultation room. Only one person was allowed to accompany him and Millie had volunteered.

  A second nurse followed us out i
nto the waiting room. She needed us to fill out the relevant paper-work.

  After I’d given her most of the details – most of which were invented – she asked, “And how did the injuries occur?”

  I looked to Edwin for some kind of support but he was past caring. The best he could manage was a shrug.

  The nurse was growing impatient. “Was he fighting or was he assaulted?”

  “Er, fighting.”

  “And the wounds he received? How did he come by those?”

  “He fell,” Edwin said.

  The nurse duly recorded this. “Fell, right. And what did he fall on to? Those are quite severe wounds.”

  It was my turn. “Oh, erm, railings. He fell onto some railings.”

  “But the wounds are on his back.”

  “That’s right. He fell backwards onto some railings.”

  The nurse looked at both of us in turn, finished making her notes and left.

  *

  An hour and a half later, Millie came to find us. She took us into the little consulting room.

  Macrory was sitting on the side of the bed with his shirt off. He had two big surgical pads taped to his back, one under the right shoulder blade the other up nearer his neck on the left hand side. He looked pale and vulnerable. I just wanted to put my arms around him.

  A nurse was in the room disposing of various bits of medical paraphernalia, mostly wrappers and syringes. It was a small room with the five of us crammed in there and the nurse didn’t waste any time finishing off.

  Millie said, “He’s had a tetanus jab and the doctor’s patched him up as best she could: eight stitches in all. He’s been very brave.”

  Macrory didn’t respond.

  She continued, “They want to keep him in over-night to see how he responds to the antibiotics. They’re trying to arrange a bed for him now but he wanted to speak to you first, Bronte.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said.

  Millie grabbed Edwin’s arm, “Come on, you need to show me where I can get some chocolate.”

  “Are you going to be alright?” I asked Macrory, once they’d gone.