As they flew over the chasm toward the ruined city, Tarlan’s eyes finally began to adjust to the strange rainbow of light that was boiling over the blackened buildings. The last time he’d made a flight like this, Idilliam had been ablaze. Now that the fires were out, Tarlan thought he’d never seen a more sorry-looking place. The shells of burned-out buildings lay slumped against each other. Splintered towers jutted like broken teeth. Even under the vivid colors of the light in the sky, all looked drab and gray.
“It’s dead,” said Tarlan, shocked by the extent of the devastation. “The whole city is dead.”
“But Celestis isn’t,” Gulph replied. “And that’s where the throne room is. Can your thorrods fly down into the chasm?”
Tarlan patted Theeta’s neck proudly. “My friends can fly anywhere!”
“Strange wings,” cawed Theeta, rearing up in distress.
“What do you see, Theeta?”
“High light. Strange wings.”
She stabbed her beak toward the prophecy stars, where two shining forms were just visible, spiraling down from the glowing sky. They rode fast on enormous green wings, their crystalline bodies capturing the many colors of the storm and turning them all to a familiar, dazzling green.
“The wyverns!” Tarlan exclaimed.
“Wyverns?” said Gulph uncertainly. “What are they?”
“Creatures from before the war. I found them in the mountains. I . . . I think I woke them up.”
“What are they doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are they dangerous?”
Tarlan hesitated. “I suppose they are, in a way.”
“I saw something that looked like them,” said Elodie, sounding awed. “In the Realm of the Dead. It helped me when I was fighting Brutan.”
“Maybe they’re here to help us too,” Tarlan said.
The two wyverns dropped like falling rocks toward a vast pile of blackened rubble heaped in the center of Idilliam—the pitiful remains of Castle Tor.
They told me I wasn’t ready before. Does this mean I’m ready now?
But ready for what?
He kicked his heels, turning Theeta down toward the chasm, which was so deep that even the sky’s brilliant light couldn’t penetrate it. It wouldn’t be long before Lord Vicerin got here. Time to move.
No sooner had Theeta begun to descend than a tremendous crashing sound echoed across the chasm. Looking up in alarm, Tarlan saw the two wyverns tearing into the shattered remains of Castle Tor. Screeching, they ripped up great chunks of stonework and hurled them into the chasm. They plowed huge furrows through the mass of fallen buildings, gathering up mountains of rubble and tipping them into the waiting abyss.
“What are they doing?” wailed Gulph.
“Look out!” cried Elodie as stone blocks began hailing around them.
As the thorrods weaved through the deadly rain, the triplets raised their hands over their heads to protect themselves from the smaller rocks.
“There’s magic at work here!” Tarlan shouted.
He could see it was true, could smell it. Not only were the wyverns gathering the debris, but they were somehow gathering the light, too. Their bodies burned with it. Their green crystal wings grew extra membranes of flickering color, becoming larger and larger until each one spanned half the city. Within moments, all the buildings were gone. The wyverns had flattened the city to ground level, leaving only smoke-shrouded plain surrounded by the ever-present chasm.
Except . . .
“No!” Gulph cried.
“Higher!” barked Tarlan. “Fly higher, now!” With a growing sense of dread, he urged the three thorrods up through the rain of stones.
The chasm was gone.
As the dust settled, Tarlan saw that the wyverns had taken what had once been the city of Idilliam and packed it down into the chasm, filling it all the way to the top. They had wiped clean the land where the city had once stood.
And buried Celestis forever.
“My friends!” cried Gulph, distraught. “I told them to wait here for me! I told them I’d come back to Celestis! And now they’re . . . they’re . . .”
“Gulph,” said Elodie, “maybe it’s not as bad as—”
“How bad do you want it to get?” Gulph replied, tears spilling from his eyes.
Tarlan surveyed the devastation with growing anger. Had he really thought the wyverns were here to help?
How could I have been so stupid?
“Come to me!” he bellowed at the wyverns, both of which were now circling nearby on wings returned to normal size. He tugged at Theeta’s ruff and she reared up. “Get over here, now! Answer for what you’ve done!”
He didn’t really expect them to obey. But, to his surprise, they flexed their wings and flew over to where the three thorrods were circling.
Each of the wyverns was at least as big as Seethan, the great old thorrod who’d been so horribly slain by the Helkrags. The draft from their enormous wings buffeted Theeta, and Tarlan had to cling tight to stop himself being thrown from her back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elodie and Gulph holding on for dear life to their own thorrod steeds.
The wyverns weaved back and forth in the light-filled air. Their golden eyes glowed. Their red claws opened and closed, over and over again. Tarlan had the sudden, strange feeling that the many facets of their green crystal bodies were about to unfold, revealing magic the likes of which he’d never seen.
“Why did you do that?” he demanded.
“We did what needed to be done,” said one of the wyverns. It had a notch in its wing, which Tarlan remembered from their first encounter in the mountains.
“What does that mean?”
“In order to rise,” said the second wyvern, “the world must fall.”
“We were here then,” said the first wyvern, “and we are here now.”
“The world is a circle,” said the second wyvern. “Now it has turned.”
“Stop talking in riddles!” snapped Tarlan. “What about all the people you just killed?”
Theeta’s body began to tremble beneath him. He stroked her neck to calm her, then realized that she wasn’t afraid. She was shaking because everything was shaking—the air, the ground, even the all-surrounding light that had turned the night into an impossibly colorful day.
“What’s happening?” gasped Elodie.
“Falling. Rising. Turning.” The wyvern with the notched wing bowed its crystal head.
“Down there!” cried Gulph. “Look!”
Tarlan stared down past Theeta’s beating wings. An immense crack had opened in the middle of the dusty plain where Idilliam had once stood. As he watched, a second crack crisscrossed the first. The ground was vibrating, humming like a vast and faceless choir. Then it tore itself to pieces.
Something speared upward through the largest of the cracks. A tower rising up from beneath the ground. Its diamond sides shone in the flickering storm. More towers followed, one after the next, this one reflecting the air’s golden glow, that one catching red bolts of lightning as they lanced out of the clouds, yet another pulsing with pure green radiance.
“It’s made of crystal!” cried Elodie.
Gulph’s eyes were wide. “Celestis!”
“So that’s what it looks like,” said Tarlan. “Maybe your friends are safe after all, Gulph.”
A tremendous cracking noise echoed through the heavens as more structures broke through from underground—houses and halls, inns and armories and countless smaller buildings that might have been shops or storehouses, bakeries or barns, a castle decked with a hundred ornate turrets. Like the sky above them, the structures shone with many colors—the red of rubies, the blue of sapphires, the yellow of topaz. An entire city of crystal, climbing its way back into the light.
“Why have you done this?” said Tarlan, looking the first wyvern in the eye.
“Because now you are ready,” the wyvern replied.
Tarlan shivered.
>
Below, the rebirth of Celestis was almost complete. Tarlan watched in wonder as the final few buildings of the newly awoken city settled into place. Then the tall central tower—the first part of the city to have emerged—rotated regally on its base. A hundred green turrets unfolded from its diamond roof, a field of emerald flowers opening their petals to the light. Something like a ripple passed through the entire city, from one side to the other. Then, finally, all was still.
“Is this it?” said Elodie. “Is this really Celestis?” Her eyes were shining and her cheeks were flushed.
Gulph nodded. “The buildings seem to have moved around a bit, but I recognize Lady Redina’s house, and the big meeting square, and . . . oh!”
“What?” Tarlan asked.
Gulph pointed to a tiny crystal building near the shore of what looked like a large pond. “Our mother’s cottage.”
The three thorrods had been circling, as entranced by the rise of Celestis as the triplets were, but now Theeta gave a warning screech.
“Enemy!”
Tarlan looked across what had once been a chasm, and which was now filled to the brim with the rubble from the ruined city of Idilliam. Speeding toward them over the packed-down layers of smashed stones and crushed timbers was the manticore. Riding on its back—no, standing on its back—was Lord Vicerin. Behind him came his army of sand-warriors.
“He’s coming,” Tarlan called to the others. “Look!”
“There’s too many of them,” said Gulph. “And he’s so fast!”
“My thorrods are fast too, Gulph,” Tarlan replied. “Anyway, they’ll have to slow down when they reach the city. That’s when we’ll strike!”
Gulph straightened his shoulders. “This is it, isn’t it?”
“Time to fight for Toronia,” said Elodie. Gripping Nasheen’s feathers with one hand, she drew her sword with the other. “Are you ready?”
Tarlan grinned first at his sister, then his brother. “I’ve never been more ready for anything!”
Already Lord Vicerin had reached the arched gateway leading into Celestis. As they watched, he led his army down the wide central street, straight to the foot of the newborn citadel with the diamond tower at its center. There, as his warriors fanned out around him, he brought the manticore to a halt and raised the Sandspear above his head.
“Now!” cried Tarlan, pulling his sword from its scabbard. He pressed his knees against Theeta’s flanks. “Dive, Theeta! Dive fast and fly true!”
She was moving even before the words had left his mouth. Nasheen and Kitheen fell into formation to her left and right. Wind screamed past Tarlan’s face, blowing his long hair out behind him. Light reflected up from the facets of the diamond tower, bathing him in color.
Just the three of us, he thought grimly. If the wyverns joined us, we might stand a better chance.
He glanced back, and saw to his surprise that the two wyverns were flying close behind Theeta’s tail. It was almost as if they’d heard his thoughts.
Maybe they did!
They sped toward the vast courtyard that lay in front of the diamond tower. The courtyard was filled with tall red sand-warriors, all turned to face their master as he drove the giant manticore toward the door of the tower.
“Stop there!” Tarlan roared. “Stop and face us!”
Vicerin whirled round, one arm stretched out for balance, the other held high as he brandished the Sandspear aloft. Behind him, Kalia squirmed against her chains. The manticore snarled and lashed its scorpion tail at the oncoming thorrods. Steaming liquid squirted from the tip, and Tarlan steered Theeta in a wide circle to avoid the poisonous spray.
“There is much I would like to say to you!” Vicerin grinned, displaying his huge, horselike teeth. “But what I most want to offer you is my heartfelt thanks!”
A group of sand-warriors stabbed upward with their spears, but the thorrods were just out of reach. Tarlan led Nasheen, Kitheen, and the wyverns in a slowly tightening spiral over Vicerin’s head.
“You won’t thank us when we’re done with you!” he shouted down.
“Oh, but I do thank you, my dear, dear children. By bringing those wretched wyvern creatures here, you have delivered Celestis right into my hands. It does make everything so much simpler, do you not think?”
Tarlan could sense Theeta wanting to fly lower, but he held her in check. He was all too aware of how vulnerable Kalia was, chained on the back of the manticore behind Vicerin. One false move and . . .
“I shall enjoy living here as king,” Vicerin went on. “And I am so glad you arrived in time to witness my coronation. Also in time to die, of course. I shall enjoy that part most of all, I think.”
“If you dare to touch my children, I will kill you myself!” shouted Kalia.
Lord Vicerin’s face contorted with fury. He drew back his hand and slapped Kalia. She fell back, crying out, blood running from a cut above her eye.
Hot anger rushed up through Tarlan’s body. He felt his fingers tighten in Theeta’s ruff, felt his lips peel back from his teeth.
“Leave her alone!” he roared.
Together they plunged down into the courtyard. Nasheen and Kitheen followed, lashing out with their talons at the waiting sand-warriors. Gulph and Elodie swung their swords, cutting through the sea of upraised weapons. Tarlan made straight for Vicerin.
As Theeta drove her way down, the manticore’s tail stabbed up toward her throat. She banked to the side, narrowly avoiding its venomous tip. At the same time, Vicerin brought the Sandspear down on the manticore’s back. A shudder ran through the beast’s rust-red body, and then suddenly its wings were flying free, each with a life of its own.
“Again, Theeta!” cried Tarlan, guiding her round for another pass.
As she circled back, the disembodied wings grew teeth and claws and wrapped themselves around the two wyverns, which were busy carving their way through the ranks of the sand-warriors. The crystal beasts broke off their attack, fighting furiously to disentangle themselves from the embrace of these strange new foes.
“Tarlan!” shouted Kalia. “Don’t try to—”
Vicerin struck her across the mouth. Tarlan howled with rage and spurred Theeta forward once more. Again they came close, and again the manticore’s lashing tail drove them back. Vicerin spun the Sandspear in his hand, causing a wormlike creature to sprout from the place on the manticore’s back where its wings had been. It lashed its coils around Theeta’s claws, dragging her down.
“Theeta fall!” she screamed.
Without thinking, Tarlan scrambled out onto her wing, rolled over its trailing edge, and grabbed the thick feathers underneath. Now he was hanging directly under her wing while she flapped furiously in her efforts to stay airborne. Each flap brought him close to Theeta’s dangling claws, and the worm-thing that had enfolded them. Each flap also threatened to wrench his arm from its socket.
Ignoring the agony in his shoulder, Tarlan waited for the next low point of the wing’s arc, whereupon he slashed out and down with his sword. The first time he missed. The second time his blade sliced clean through the neck of the worm, and sending a spray of sand directly into Vicerin’s face.
“Up!” he cried, crawling painfully up Theeta’s flank and onto her back.
Theeta didn’t need telling twice. With her claws released, she quickly gained enough height to clear the manticore’s tail, then came round for yet another attack.
Fighting for breath, Tarlan hastily scanned the courtyard for the other thorrods. He spotted them both engaged in furious combat with a squad of sand-warriors near the door to the tower. Both Gulph and Elodie were reaching far out from the backs of their flying steeds, beating the enemy with their swords. Both looked exhausted.
“Wait, Theeta,” said Tarlan, reining her in. Anger throbbed at his temples, but he forced himself to ignore it. Forced himself to stop and think.
Gulph cut down a pair of sand-warriors. Vicerin pointed the Sandspear and two more took their place.
Between them, Elodie and Nasheen bowled over a whole column of enemy soldiers. It took just one gesture from Vicerin to bring them back to life.
The worm growing from the manticore’s back had already grown two new heads.
“What does it take to bring him down?” cried Tarlan in frustration.
“Shining wings,” said Theeta.
“What?”
“Crush city. Crush human.”
Of course. The wyverns. If they’re powerful enough to flatten Idilliam, Lord Vicerin should be no trouble.
With all his heart, Tarlan wished the wyverns would attack.
“But how do I know they’ll obey me?”
No sooner had he said this to Theeta than something green flashed in front of him. It was the wyverns, disentangled from the manticore’s free-flying wings and diving in perfect formation toward Lord Vicerin.
Attack!
Obey!
Tarlan realized he was hearing the wyverns’ thoughts. Then he realized that they echoed his own. They had heard his command.
But it wasn’t a command. I just thought it.
The first wyvern hit the manticore’s lion head. The second hit its scorpion tail. Lord Vicerin and Kalia flew high into the air, and were immediately enveloped by a cloud of red sand. The diamond tower trembled from bottom to top. The door at its base broke into three great shards of crystal, which fell and smashed. Clouds of dust billowed out.
The wyverns immediately climbed back into the air, leaving Tarlan to rub sand from his eyes. Gradually the cloud thinned. Vicerin was nowhere to be seen.
Tarlan faltered. The glimmer of hope that had risen in his breast died away to nothing. It wasn’t just Vicerin who had disappeared.
Kalia was gone too.
CHAPTER 23
W hen the wyverns crashed down on top of the manticore, they sent a huge cloud of sand rolling over Gulph. As Kitheen blundered blindly into it, Gulph tried desperately to hold on. But the black-breasted thorrod swerved, and his fingers slipped through the giant bird’s feathers. Losing his grip, he fell.
A Kingdom Rises Page 24
