by C. M. Gray
Within the confines of the ship, the Black Destiny was a gloomy maze of narrow corridors, strange sounds and even stranger smells. Thin trails of black smoke drifted from soot darkened lanterns that offered little light to aid his progress.
Tregawn must have our stuff in his cabin, thought Tarent. He wouldn't trust anything to his men. The sound of singing was coming from some other part of the ship, but he knew the Captain's cabin would be close to the back part, the stern of the boat. Making his way towards what he hoped was the back, he quietly checked several cabins on his way and at last came to what must be Captain Tregawn's cabin behind a more ornate door. He listened for a moment and, hearing nothing, slipped inside.
The cabin was a cluttered mess with clothing, charts and strange objects piled all around. Their possessions were slung in a corner with other items taken from the crew of The Jenny. The moment he reclaimed his staff was one he would remember for a long time, it was as if part of him that had been removed and had finally returned, a warm glow of confidence flowed through him as he grasped it. It was as if the Source had returned. Can it actually have left me he wondered, or was it so well hidden that I just wasn't able to recognise it? He took the two other staffs belonging to Loras and Magician Falk, and found the knife and book on the Captain's desk, these he slipped into his cloak and then retraced his steps back up on deck.
The two pirates were still at the side of the ship watching their crewmates on the shore, so Tarent started to make his way back towards the mast ready to make his climb back up to the cages. His guess was that if Loras had hold of his staff again, then his magic would probably return. Whatever influences the pirate Captain had over them, it seemed lessened by the fact he was away on the beach, he could tell that by holding his own staff. He had one hand on the mast and was about to start climbing, when the sound of footsteps came from behind him, he swung around, just in time to duck a wooden club aimed at his head.
'How'd you get loose yer little bilge rat?' slurred the pirate as he sized Tarent up, ready to try and hit him again.
'Magic!' said Tarent bringing his staff down on the pirate's head with a dull clonk. The man collapsed to the deck unconscious, the other pirate, who was holding a bottle and swaying with the effects of whatever he had been drinking, stood with his mouth open in astonishment, not really comprehending that his shipmate had been struck, it took a moment to register, and his alarm turned to disbelief.
'Oh, you's shouldn't have done that, matey. Oh, no, I'll be skinning yer now 'n no mistake.' The pirate leapt forward as fast as his drunken body would allow and Tarent stepped neatly to the side allowing the sailor to collide with the mast where he collapsed on top of his friend.
Tarent glanced about him, but there didn't appear to be anyone else on deck, just the singing still coming from somewhere below. Glancing up to the top of the masts, he could just about make out the shape of the bamboo cages, hanging in the gloom, and decided there was an easier way to bring his friends down, one that didn't call for him making the long dangerous climb back through the rigging. He tied the loose end of the rope holding Loras's cage around the legs of the two pirates then undid the knot holding the cage aloft. The pirates weren't small, but as the cage began to descend, the pirates were dragged up, feet first, quickly disappearing out of sight. The cage came down to the deck, landing with a thump.
'Oww,' moaned Loras as Tarent helped him out. 'That hurt. Where are we?' Without his weight the cage lifted slowly back into the darkness, coming to rest leaving cage and unconscious pirates swinging with the gentle roll of the ship halfway up the mast.
'I still feel awful,' moaned Loras. Tarent held his friend's head and poured energy of order into him, seeing relief as the sickness and fatigue drain away. Loras gazed up at him with a look of delight.
'You can heal!' Tarent passed him his staff, and Loras gripped it like an old friend. 'Oh, Source, yes!' He looked up at the cage holding Magician Falk, and as he muttered a spell under his breath, the rope holding the cage parted, and it floated slowly down towards them.
'Now we just have to get away,' said Tarent as Loras helped the old Magician out and started to heal him, 'and then we have to find out what blocked our powers, we have some pirates to take care of, and this time we have to do it right.'
* * *
The Griffin swooped down, breaking through the thick cloud and pulled up, soaring just a span or two above the tops of the trees. Quint's heart skipped a beat, and he let out a frozen breath of fear. How the great beast knew where the cloud ended, and the trees and ground began was a mystery to Quint, but he was glad she somehow did. Sitting at the front over The Griffin's neck meant he was part of every gut wrenching twist and turn. The others, crouched behind, saw very little while they used him to shelter from the icy wind, remaining cold but blissfully unaware of how close they appeared to come to death at the end of every flight. Spotting a clearing at the base of a huge towering cliff The Griffin flared her wings and came to a soft landing amid a flurry of snow. After a few moments, the riders slid slowly from her back.
'F… f… fire… fire, light a fire… we have to… get warm.' Still with one icy hand clutching his cloak around him, Quint dragged a branch to the base of the cliff and watched as both Pardigan and Mahra staggered around searching for more. When they had a small pile of wood, Mahra held out a shaking hand, and a small flame appeared amongst the twigs and branches and after a few moments, smoke started waft up into the chill air.
'It's a… a bit wet, but it sh… it should be all right,' said Mahra, her teeth chattering. For a while, the only sound was expectant silence as the fire started to build.
When a good blaze was underway the smoke became less, and they crouched down, opening their cloaks to soak up the heat. The Griffin was happily nibbling at a snow covered tree a short distance away and was quite unaffected by the cold. She snorted happily, blowing up a cloud of snow crystals.
They were now two days into the Massif mountain range, and it was telling on them all. Snow blanketed everything and finding a likely landing spot had proven difficult whenever they were forced from the sky by the cold. 'How much more of this?' moaned Pardigan, his voice having just returned with the warmth of the fire. 'I don't want to sleep in another cave, that one last night was disgusting. Whatever was sleeping in there before us had been using it as a toilet as well!'
'It was a howler hole, Pardigan. Howlers don't worry about keeping clean. The dirtier and smellier a howler is the happier it is, or the happier they seem, or so I understand from the innkeeper back in Barnham.' Mahra gazed about her at the cliff face. 'And the happier a howler is the more dangerous it is, apparently. When I'm a bit warmer, I'll fly about and see if there is another cave. However smelly it is, at least it will be warmer and safer than being out here.' She threw another branch on the fire and it crackled in appreciation sending sparks floating up into the darkening sky. 'I'd better go. It's going to snow again, and night isn't so far away.' She stood and looked down at her two friends. 'I won't be long, just stay warm and out of trouble.' Thunder rumbled in the distance, it echoed strangely around the rocky cliffs with the air so still and muffled by snow. She flew off just as the first flakes began to fall.
From somewhere further down the mountain, a long drawn out moan broke the silence followed by another answering a moment later; this second one was a little closer.
'What was that?' Pardigan jumped to his feet and stared down the slope.
'Don't know?' replied Quint, gazing through the thickening snowfall. He shivered. 'But I hope Mahra hurries up, I didn't like the sound of it whatever it was.'
'Yeah, best hurry, Mahra.' Pardigan pulled out a knife. 'Maybe a stinky old cave would be nice after all.'
Mahra didn't find a cave, and the attack came just before dawn, while it was still dark.
* * *
Chapter 8
Floating on Air
The noise woke them. Snowflakes fell hissing into the fire they had hastily built up
with big trunks of wood. Flames leapt high, and shadows danced about the cliff-face lighting the whole area, including the tree line some twenty spans below where Pardigan and Quint stood watching, wide-eyed and nervous, their breath pluming in the frigid air. Without warning, the cracking, crashing sound that had been approaching, finally exploded out of the trees in a cloud of snow and pine needles.
'What by the Source is that!' shrieked Pardigan as the large something came lumbering towards them barely lit by the flickering firelight. Whatever it was, it held a small tree trunk by the roots and was swinging it wildly through the air at nothing in particular. It was sniffing and snuffling loudly, its nose held high in the air as it searched the ground ahead. As it came closer, they could see it was huge and covered in a shaggy coat of hair that hung in clumps, glistening with frozen snow. The only feature not covered with hair was its face, which was pink, deeply wrinkled and flushed from the exertion of running uphill. Set to either side of a huge prominent nose, dripping a steady line of snot were huge luminous eyes. Strangely and somewhat disturbingly, it looked human. It glanced up and saw them, gave a great moaning cry of glee and began kicking rocks out of its way in its eagerness to get up to them. Another barking cry came from just a short distance behind it.
'Howlers,' yelled Quint, 'ruuuuunnn!'
Snatching up their gear, they cast a last look at the approaching creature and made a dash along the face of the cliff hoping Mahra could delay it.
The great white owl screamed and with talons outstretched, swooped down towards the huge creature raking its face as she passed. Not the quickest thinking of creatures, the howler was caught unawares. It gave an enormous bellow of alarm, forgot it was holding the tree trunk and flung its arms up to protect itself. With a push of her wings, Mahra flew off, narrowly escaping the tree trunk, which came crashing down onto the howler's head.
'Ooooooaaaaghh, hurting!' it dropped the huge log and fell to its knees, clutching at its head, 'Aannggghhh.' The huge wet eyes rolled around in their sockets trying to focus on the ball of white feathers that was once again streaking down towards it. Mahra dodged as a huge hairy hand swatted blindly in the air and raked her claws across its head for a second time, then made for the tree line after the boys, just as the second howler emerged from the forest. With a cry of alarm, the new howler threw its arms up and trudged quickly over to its fallen mate, making strange mewing sounds of concern as it came.
Mahra looked back as the howler gently cradled its mate, cooing gently as it stroked the unhappy face trying to comfort it. They made a strange sight as she studied them from a high branch, trying to decide if they were still a threat or if they had given up.
Covered in dirty, bedraggled hair, clotted with mud and snow and slightly green in colour where the mud wasn't clinging, she judged they were at least twice as tall as the boys. They were covering their modesty in animal skins and tree bark, but they obviously weren't that modest because they didn't have an awful lot of skins or bark between them.
The female, or at least Mahra guessed she was a female, helped her dazed companion to his feet and they trudged off in pursuit of the two boys.
The howlers were back to gurgling cheerfully, but at least they couldn't be really happy now, not after hurting like that, she reasoned, she took off and flew ahead to try and find the boys first.
Snow was falling in big soft flakes, not as heavily as it had been, but enough in the early morning light to make travelling over the rocky ground difficult. As Quint and Pardigan ran, they were trying to keep the cliff-face near to their right side, but the ground was covered in rocks and the snowdrifts were making it almost impossible to stay in close. They found themselves being forced further down the hillside towards the treeline which was worrying because in the trees, The Griffin wouldn't be able to land, and it was going to be easier to get lost or trapped.
'They're getting nearer, I can hear them,' gasped Pardigan, 'there was at least two, but there may be more.'
'Just keep moving, we'll lose them, don't worry.' They were almost in the trees now; Quint scanned the terrain ahead hoping to spot a path or some kind of clearing to duck into. There was certainly little opportunity to hide, and the howlers were definitely gaining on them, their strange gleeful calls echoing in the still mountain air seemed to be just behind them.
'Well, I'm glad someone out here is having fun,' Pardigan moaned, his voice puffed and strained. 'Where's The Griffin, why can't we just get out of here?'
'There's nowhere to land,' replied Quint, 'we have to find a bigger clearing then we can call her.' He glanced back and cursed. 'Come on, Pardigan, faster, I can see them!'
They pushed on, ducking down into the forest, to try and lose the howlers amongst the trees. Laboured breathing and the moaning calls of the howlers filled the trees as they ran, blindly stumbling over rocks and pushing through branches that whipped painfully back at them, punishing them with every step. Above them, they heard the owl screeching as she searched for them.
'Mahra,' screamed Quint, and she dived down through the trees.
'Turn to your left and jump from the cliff!' her hooting cry was confusing in the trees as she sped past.
'Do what?' Pardigan grabbed Quint's arm. 'Did she just say…?'
'Come on.' They turned to the left, downhill. The crashing was getting very close now, and both Quint and Pardigan were feeling the first moments of panic like icy fingers creeping around them. And then a deep gleeful chuckle sounded behind as the howlers finally caught sight of them.
Then without warning they burst from the trees, and came staggering to a teetering halt on the edge of the highest cliff that Pardigan had ever seen. Far below them was a layer of clouds, and through the gaps way under the clouds a carpet of green could be seen covering a distant valley, his stomach lurched and he stepped back before hesitantly leaning over once more. The green must be trees, but from this height… The two boys swayed on the edge, trapped as the icy wind tugged at them, inviting them to fall.
'What are we going to do?' screamed Pardigan as the first howler emerged slowly from the trees about ten paces away and edged towards them. It was smiling and gurgling, and looked far too happy for comfort, the tree trunk club was once again in its hand. A moment later it was joined by its mate. Looking into the happy, scratched face, he had just decided that they were going to have to fight it, and had started pulling out a knife, when Mahra flashed past just over their heads.
'Jump, The Griffin will catch you…' Claws outstretched she flew straight at the first howler's face; it frowned and tried to swat her. 'Jump!' It was the last thing they heard before the owl became a panther and the howler started to scream.
Before Pardigan could do anything about it, Quint had grabbed him by the arm, spun him around and then leapt over the edge of the cliff, dragging his friend with him.
'Nooo…. aaaaaaaaahhhhhh…'
Still clutching each other, they fell and fell, the icy air immediately dragging all remaining warmth from their bodies. Tears froze as the incredible force of the wind buffeted them, blinding them to all but a watery blur. When Pardigan finally stopped shrieking, it was only because the rush of the wind made it impossible as it sucked both noise and breath from his mouth. It was terrifying.
If Pardigan could have screamed, then he would have, he was certainly trying hard enough and then he suddenly stopped trying as Quint came into view and was amazed to see through his tears that his friend had a huge smile on his face, his cheeks flapping in a most alarming way. Quint had spread his cloak and was floating upwards. His cloak, held like that, seemed to give him some control over the way he fell and was slowing him, as well. It looked to Pardigan like his friend was flying. Trying to bring his limbs under control, he flattened himself against the incredible thrust of air, Pardigan narrowed his eyes against the force of the wind and scrabbled behind him, trying to catch hold of his own flapping cape. After somersaulting and spinning around several times, he was eventually successful and was su
rprised to gain a little control over his descent, unfortunately, however, he still had little sway over his terror.
'Aaaaaaahhhhh,' at least he had found some voice again, but it was snatched by the wind and hurt his throat, so he stopped. Squinting his streaming eyes once more, he searched below for some sign of The Griffin.
White cloud flashed past, the wetness cold upon his exposed skin. For a moment, they were caught in a world which had neither up nor down, just a surrounding of all enveloping whiteness with the noise of their cloaks flapping and a huge rushing of air in their ears.
They exited the cloud with a sudden assault upon the senses once more, the green carpet stretching out before them, trees and rocks coming at an alarming rate. And then golden feathers were slipping alongside, and they were desperately letting go of their cloaks and trying to grab hold, slipping, clutching, and clinging on to the plummeting Griffin with numb, frozen hands.
She levelled out, gracefully scooping them up, just above the treetops, and then gave a great 'kaawww,' of delight, which all but covered their ragged breathing. After a brief series of swoops and circles, they landed in a clearing and the two boys fell from The Griffin's back, to lie gasping on a floor of soggy grass and bracken.
Eventually, Pardigan spoke, 'I think I have to change my trews.' His voice was trembling as he said it, but he made no move to get up.
Quint rolled over and grinned at his friend. 'Let's do it again, that was incredible!' He got up and hollered, the sound echoing from the cliffs as he vented his adrenaline and excitement, 'Woohooooo!' Pardigan looked over, a pained expression of disbelief on his face.
'Do it again?' he replied weakly, 'Are you mad?'
This far down the mountain it hadn't been snowing, but it was wet, and there was definitely no chance of starting a fire. They were back close to the base of the mountains and still on the Realm's side. A miserable drizzle was falling from the very clouds they had dropped through and all around them water was dripping from everything. Mahra swooped down, changed into her human form and ran to Pardigan in concern.
