by C. M. Gray
'Are you alright?' she glanced over at Quint who just grinned happily. Shaking her head, she turned back to Pardigan. 'Are you… phew! What's that smell?' She waved a hand in front of her nose.
Quint laughed, 'He's all right. He just got a little over excited is all, but it was fun eh Pardigan?'
'Well he doesn't look like he had fun and he smells awful, here…' She threw Pardigan's bag at him. 'Clean up, we have to go. There may be howlers down here as well.' At the mention of howlers, Pardigan sat up and gazed about in alarm.
'All right, all right… so turn around, let me get this done before another howler shows up, all right?' Quint and Mahra turned their backs, grinning at their friend's misfortune.
* * *
Matheus Hawk saw the wisp of smoke from the corner of his eye and followed it as it moved around the room. He was sitting with his back to the door, staring down at the street through dingy curtains and a grimy window as people dashed past through the rain in the street below. Nhasic sat close by cracking nuts noisily. The little demon was throwing each empty shell, rattling at the window, trying unsuccessfully to annoy the Hawk; ready to spring away at the first indication its master was angry.
They had been waiting for several days, watching the streets of Sterling Port as the great unwashed and very unworthy as Matheus called the citizens of Sterling, filed past below in the rain. Matheus had been following their progress as they scampered from one menial pathetic task to the next like so many ants in an anthill. The Hawk's temper had been building steadily and now at last something had arrived to vent that anger upon.
The wraith was obviously being cautious, but its mistake had been to remain hidden, not announcing its presence immediately. That and its being several days late for this meeting. Without warning, a crackle of red Chaos energy leapt from the Hawk's hand and lanced into the defenceless wraith, forcing it to become visible, where it writhed on the floor presenting a pathetic sight.
'No lord, I beg of thee nooooo…!' The wraith squirmed in agony as crackling Chaos energy scorched its flaccid white skin. The room was full with the smell of burning flesh. The Hawk pulled back his hood to stare with disdain at the wraith as Nhasic screeched and threw nuts at it.
'You, are what the Great Lord sent… one miserable wraith sneaking in as if to assassinate me? That is what you do, wraith, you and your ilk. You sneak up like this and kill people unawares. You are an assassin, are you not?
'Kill, yes, but not you great Lord, please… never would I even dare to even try…' The fingers of Chaos energy abruptly ceased, and it collapsed to the ground gasping for breath. Veins pulsed beneath its translucent skin, throbbing blue as they pumped blood to the vital organs, its fragile chest fluttering rapidly as its lungs tried to regain some control. Matheus gazed down at it in disgust making no effort to disguise his revulsion.
'Why are you late and why are you alone?' Matheus turned his chair to face it and, with no little effort, the wraith sat up, red startled eyes darting from Matheus… to Nhasic… to the door.
'Late, Lord? This wraith is not late, surely? I would die a thousand deaths, flay myself to an inch of my life rather than to offend this most gracious ally of our Great Lord, Djinn Tsai.' The wraith flinched back as Nhasic leapt up onto the Hawk's shoulder and bared his teeth emitting a hiss. 'Ten thousand apologies, Lord if this wraith has kept you waiting, I beg of you to…'
'Oh stop yer snivelling, pathetic creature! I requested more than one grovelling wraith, that's all. I need some people dealt with… children.' Matheus watched the wraith's expression change to one of astonishment. 'Yes, children,' he barked, reacting angrily to what he thought was going to be an argument. 'Do yer think yer can deal with mere children?' The wraith began to smile. 'These are no ordinary children, you maggot. These are possessed by the Source and will probably fry you in Order energy if they catch you.'
'I am not alone, Master and they will not catch me,' replied the wraith with a simpering sneer. Tell me more of these… children… I like children,' its tone became softer, and a pink wet tongue darted out to dampen its lips, '… they taste nice. Tell me, Lord and we shall find them. We can… deal with them for you. It will be an exquisite pleasure for us.'
The Hawk sighed and stood up, brushing Nhasic from his shoulder. 'I doubt you can, but you may as well try,' Nhasic chattered angrily and gathered his fallen nuts while the Hawk went on to describe where and when the wraith would find The Griffin's crew. After a little more discussion, the wraith disappeared, leaving the room the same way as it had entered. Matheus also made ready to depart, happy to move on at last.
'You're going to like our next destination Nhasic, it's going to be hot… very hot… but not as hot as it's going to get for that brood of guttersnipe kids.' Nhasic screeched in delight, bounding around the room until the Hawk stopped him.
'Come. We go to meet with the Emperor, the Great Lord, Djinn Tsai, our plan goes perfectly, and my destiny awaits me.'
Matheus Hawk had changed much over the past year. Since his defeat at Sterling temple, he had spent time travelling in search of the destiny he had always sought so voraciously. Eventually, his wandering had led him on a long, meandering trail through the Great Massif mountain range, before turning back into the Kingdom and then out across the desert aptly named the Great Expanse. His story, to date, was a complicated one, a story that at times seemed a little confusing, even to Matheus.
On this journey, in the heights of the Northern Massif, he had spoken with a group of howlers, once of course he had persuaded them to keep a little distance. They had told him of great winged beasts that flew far to the west. The howlers claimed these beasts were each as big as a mountain and breathed fire should a howler blunder too close. The howlers had advised Matheus to avoid them. To Matheus Hawk the description sounded remarkably close to that of the bird creature he had chased with those Source-damned brats aboard, and as he so desperately needed some kind of direction, he had decided to investigate.
For several weeks, he travelled alone through the inhospitable Western Massifs, the rough terrain and poor rations putting an edge to his anger, allowing it to take form and grow and build a genuine loathing of The Griffin's crew. Looking back, he realised that all the ills that had befallen him, everything, had been due to them. After some time brooding among the rocks, he decided his search for the fabled creatures was proving fruitless. He had been close to giving up and returning to some more hospitable place, but then one evening as he was making camp in a cave, he heard a sound that both chilled him and yet gave rise to renewed hope; it had been a moment he would never forget.
The sun had been setting as he emerged from the cave, shading his eyes and squinting against the bright orange glow on the horizon. For a few moments, the glare prevented him seeing much at all, but then, glancing up, he saw them; huge winged beasts circling high above him, several of them, the last rays of a dying day glinting from many coloured scales - dragons - the stuff of legend made real. His excitement returned, and he spent the next two days climbing even higher up the great mountain until finally he discovered where the beasts were nesting. With a lot of patience and a little guile, he had managed to scramble up the cave where they nested and steal two precious eggs.
The theft had been noticed while he was still close and they had tried with savage desperation to stop him, it had almost been his undoing for he quickly discovered that his magic was useless against them. Dodging from rock to rock he had been bathed in fire and bombarded with rocks. Cunning and daring were his only hope, and for a week they dogged his every move. Finally, in the low country, he had given them the slip and made his way back to civilisation through the low valleys clutching his prizes with the dragons' anguished cries gradually fading far behind.
One of the eggs he had secured for later retrieval, the other he took as a present and travelled far across the Great Expanse, beyond any Dhurbar caravan route or tribal oasis in search of an unknown Kingdom that had only been referred to him by a
demon of past acquaintance.
After many hardships, he had arrived in the land of the Emperor, the Great Lord, Djinn Tsai who, it was said, had lived a thousand lifetimes. In this strange land, he had made his introductions, presented his gift and then embarked upon an education, the like of which a Magician could normally only dream of gaining.
Together with the Emperor, plots were hatched, spells were woven, and agreements were made. His gift to the Great Lord, Djinn Tsai, had firstly been the strange magical egg, but there would ultimately be a much greater prize to be laid at the Emperor's feet, a Kingdom and all the souls that it contained. His reward in return was to be the lives of five young people, and the knowledge and freedom to become the most powerful mortal Magician in the known universe.
* * *
Mahra had returned to Barnham Bolt twice now with reports of small bands of Morgasta's troops in and around the Bolt. The agent hadn't been there, but someone claiming to be his assistant had promised he would pass the information on. She was now glad she didn't have to return anymore. There was no going back once over the heights of the Massif range and on the side of Morgasta's Barbarians, the next time they would return it would be with the skulls.
The Bolt itself was too narrow in places for The Griffin to fly, with the Bolt becoming as thin as the width of a wagon in places, so they had eventually been forced to turn away and fly up and over the great mountain range. This final flight was over the highest spine between the peaks of the mountains and was the coldest so far with the air so thin that their heads ached, their vision began to fail them and they lost consciousness in the brilliant, dazzling light. Mahra would never have completed the ascent in the form of an owl; instead she had curled up as a cat inside Quint's cloak. For nearly three turns of the glass, the two boys and the cat had clung frozen to The Griffin's back, barely aware of where they were or how far they had come. It was a trial of endurance none of them would ever wish to repeat.
This high up The Griffin was struggling to gain height, often resorting to clambering up the rock face as much as flying because the air was so thin. At last, the magical creature finally crested the spine, scrabbling over the final rocky mountaintop in brilliant, clear sunlight, way above the cloud line in a sky so blue that stars could be seen above them. Yet none of her passengers were able to open their eyes and appreciate where they were, on the very top of the world, the incredible sight and experience was completely lost to all but The Griffin.
Once over and descending, they had plummeted through the frigid, thin air, quickly reaching a terrifying speed with The Griffin's huge wings extended, frantically trying to slow. Her passengers were oblivious to the creature's plight and its skills in navigating what was little more than a fall and certainly wasn't flight. They narrowly missed outcrops of rock and jagged cliffs coming close to certain death again and again. As they got lower the air became heavier and finally started to slow them. The creature let out a 'Kaauuw' of relief then began desperately searching for a place to land and rest.
Still high in the mountains, there were very few flat areas, and with no direction coming from her riders, she found herself having to descend further and further before spotting the distant tree line and a clearing that was big and flat enough for her needs.
She came in low over the treetops, still travelling at considerable speed and landed amid a cloud of pine needles and snow, shaking with adrenaline and exertion as she drew huge gulps of breath into her aching lungs.
Still suffering, she waited patiently for the riders to get off, but unlike their normal desperate struggle to reach the ground, there didn't seem to be any movement at all coming from behind her. A feeling from deep within told her that all wasn't as it was meant to be with her fragile charges. Turning her head she tried to look back at them, but it was difficult and she danced about in circles for a while, huffing and puffing trying to see what was wrong.
Pardigan felt a warm breath on his face. It vaguely smelt like green leaves and newly mown hay and was warm. He felt so cold, and he struggled to open his eyes. The lids seemed glued together, and he didn't have the strength to try any harder, let alone find the energy to lift a hand and rub at them, so he let go and drifted back into the warm arms of sleep.
But, then it came again, warm air blown at him, which was annoying because he just wanted to sleep. Something was pulling at him now as if trying to waken him, he could feel the tugging on his shoulder, and he wondered why. Go away, he thought, unable to actually say anything. Trying to open his eyes again just filled them with a brilliant whiteness that almost blinded him, so he decided to stop trying, sleep was just so… but then he felt himself fall.
The Griffin, unable to see her charges properly had decided to pull one off, and Pardigan, being perched at the back was easiest to reach. He hit the ground with a thump, which at any other time would have hurt but right now he was so numb from his nose to his toes that nothing really registered at all.
The Griffin stomped around and snorted into his face again, then started to nudge him with her beak until he began to moan and move a little of his own accord. It took some time and a lot of effort, but Pardigan finally managed to get himself up and begin rubbing life back into his arms and legs. After a little more time, he stood up on wobbling legs and stamped about for a while before dragging both Quint and Mahra down into the snow.
While his friends lay shivering, he successfully started a small fire and dragged them both close to it. The fire was blazing merrily by the time they were able to sit up and stare miserably into the crackling flames. Snowflakes blew around them, and the wind was whistling high over the ridge and then down through the trees. This was no place to camp, they needed to move on, but couldn't draw themselves away from the comfort the small fire offered, each feeding small pieces of wood into the tiny flames to sustain it.
'Where… where are we, do you know?' asked Pardigan, 'Tell me we're over the top… please.'
'We're over the top… I think,' mumbled Quint. 'We must have all blacked out as we came over, I know I did, there was no air up there, and it was way too cold. I think we nearly died.'
'The Griffin woke me,' said Pardigan looking over at the huge creature as it held down a small tree with one massive claw to nibble at the pinecones. Snow began falling in larger, fluffy flakes that slowly drifted down from what was now a white featureless sky. The Griffin snapped at some and shook her head.
'The others have got to be having a better time than us,' grumbled Pardigan. 'A nice boat trip in a warm cabin… how come we've done nothing but freeze… I'm fed up!' He threw the remaining wood he had gathered onto the fire then stood up to stamp his feet again, trying unsuccessfully to feel his toes. The Griffin looked over at him as if wondering what all the fuss was about, snorted and then returned to plucking pinecones.
Mahra gave a weary nod. 'It will get better now we're over the spine. We just have to find some shelter and rest a bit before we meet up with the others.' The fire crackled, and bigger flames began to grow, they each struggled closer holding out numb hands.
It was just a little later, when they felt a little less close to dying that they managed to drag themselves onto The Griffin's back and head further down the mountains once more.
It wasn't hard to spot Morgasta's army. Spread out all over the hills at the base of the mountains, a thousand small fires set amongst ten times as many tents and shelters sent up plumes of smoke. Quint guided The Griffin away to where they wouldn't be seen, and they came down close to where a cave gaped open at the base of a cliff. Mahra changed into a panther and went inside to make sure it was empty while the boys paced about outside, stamping their feet and trying to get warm. This low in the mountains there was only a dusting of snow on the ground, nothing like the drifts found higher up, but it was still cold and they were all soaking wet.
'Come on, Mahra, let's get this done, were freezing out here,' called Pardigan. Quint was gathering a small pile of wood ready to take inside so Pardigan scanne
d the ground in a half-hearted effort and grabbed a branch that he began to drag towards the cave; he looked up as Mahra emerged beckoning them forward, so he trudged on dragging his branch.
Once inside they lit a fire, setting it close to the entrance so the smoke could escape, and then huddled close around it. The heat slowly began to warm the air in the cave, and it finally thawed the three friends enough, so they found energy enough to make a brew and take off their wet cloaks, hanging them on sticks close to the fire where they steamed.
'At least this cave doesn't smell of howlers,' said Pardigan, peering back into the darkness. There wasn't much to see, a mixture of shadows, rocks and bits of wood strewn all over the floor. 'How far back did you check, Mahra?' he got up and walked a few steps into the darkness, his eyes straining to make things out.
Mahra's voice came to him echoing off the walls of the cave 'I checked as much as I could see and smell, but it goes quite a way, I really wouldn't wander too far back.' Pardigan stumbled over some rocks and muttered a curse. He really hadn't gone far, but it was already pitch black, he waited a few moments as his eyes became more accustomed to the lack of light and gradually the shapes of the rocks and walls became visible as dim shady outlines.
It was colder this far back, his breath misting as he breathed. He was about to return to the fire when a small movement caught his eye. He frowned, not trusting his eyes in this light and cautiously approached a dark fold in the rocky wall, his senses tingling, expecting at any moment for a dozen bats to come flapping out at him, but nothing did. Taking another careful step, he glanced back to his friends by the fire and saw they were talking quietly. Quint was poking at the burning logs sending sparks up against the roof while Mahra was holding her hands out to the flames warming them.
