by Lelia Eye
A great amber eye was suddenly fixed upon Skye, and the Fenik settled down into a sitting position, its front legs straight and its rear legs on its haunches. It peered at Skye for a moment, and then it made a noise that was a mixture of disgust and contempt.
“I think not, little prince,” it finally said with a snort, smoke billowing out of its nostrils.
“You must!” Skye said desperately.
“I am bound to obey Skychild royalty, certainly,” the Fenik said. “You claim you are the only member of the Skychild royalty left, but unless I’m very much mistaken, this one,” it gestured with its snout at Hawkins, “was just crowned king. His goals will be much more in line with my own. I owe you no allegiance.”
“What is he saying?” Tierra asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Skye replied sourly.
Unaware of this byplay, Hawkins crowed with delight. “Mine, mine!” he exulted, his eyes gleaming with frantic ecstasy. Then he turned to Skye and snarled, “You’ve lost, princeling. And before I wipe the Groundbreather stain off this world, I intend to make sure you’ll never be a threat again.”
Skye drew his sword from its scabbard and started toward the Seneschal. “And I intend to foil all your designs, Hawkins.”
The Seneschal laughed and hastened toward the protection of the dragon. “I admire your unwarranted confidence. But I won’t waste the Fenik on one such as you.
“Your self-assurance is unfortunately quite misplaced. You and vile Cirrus have been making plans to put your hands on the Fenik, and now you have the audacity to show your face here with our ancient enemies as allies.”
Hawkins sneered, his lip twisted in scorn as his gaze raked over the Groundbreathers at Skye’s back. “No one in the history of our race has willingly brought Groundbreathers to the sky realm, and now you have done so twice. Twice!”
Skye looked around in consternation, noting that many Skychildren had begun muttering to their neighbors.
“Our allies are here because we have achieved peace,” Skye said, attempting to undo the damage of the Seneschal’s words. “We will prevent you from usurping the throne which is rightfully mine!”
“Empty threats!” Hawkins screamed. “Your efforts have come to naught, for I have been using you and Cirrus and your father all along for my own purposes. And now watch what the rightful leader of the Skychildren can do.”
Raising his arms above his head, Hawkins gestured to the thunderbirds, which were perched in their customary positions on the walls. “Thunderbirds, attack! Kill this rabble immediately!”
The response was far from heartening for the Seneschal, as the only response from the watchful thunderbirds was a slight rustle of movement. Skye felt relieved that his conjecture had been proven correct. He was not certain how the Fenik had been able to declare support for Hawkins, but the thunderbirds were obviously ruled by bloodline alone. And Hawkins was not of royal blood, even if he had managed to marry the dowager queen and press his scurrilous claim to the crown.
“Attack, I say!” Hawkins cried in a shrill voice.
“Thunderbirds,” Skye shouted, “to me!”
With a great and raucous cry, the thunderbirds rose from their perches and streaked into the air.
“Attack the Seneschal!” Skye commanded. “Kill the usurper and his men!”
Unfortunately, Skye’s orders were ultimately as ineffectual as Hawkins’s had been; the thunderbirds obviously had no desire to go near the dragon, and they milled about in the air in confusion, uncertain what to do.
“Attack! Attack!” Hawkins’s voice rang out through the throne room. His forces sprang into action, engaging Skye’s entourage.
Skye immediately responded, organizing his men into a defense as he directed the thunderbirds to attack any guards at a distance from the Fenik.
Skye turned to Gale, who was standing close by, and motioned toward where Hawkins had hidden behind the dragon.
“See if you can get a clear shot at Hawkins. If we can put him down, I can take control of the Fenik and end this!”
“We’ll try, Your Highness,” Gale said before turning to instruct other members of the resistance.
Unsure how successful they would be, Skye moved closer to Hawkins. If he could achieve a better angle, then he could shoot an arrow at the Seneschal’s heart. He could draw the bow on his back in an instant. He simply needed the opportunity.
An attack from the left had Skye spinning away, a burst of wind providing extra speed. He brought up his sword and locked it with his opponent’s. The Sentinel seemed surprised at his fast reaction. Skye kicked him in the stomach and brought his sword’s pommel down on the man’s head. The guard crumpled to the ground.
That soldier was the first of an attack wave centered on Skye. His sword was a flurry of silver as he deflected a multitude of blows. The closer he tried to get to Hawkins and the Fenik, the more intense the onslaught became. Thunderbirds dropped down around him, attacking his assailants. Yet his opponents were pressing in on him. He did not even dare try to redirect the thunderbirds’ attacks on the Fenik.
Tierra’s fear for him leaked through their bond. “I am trying to reach you, Skye!”
“Stay back! I’ll be fine. It’s too dangerous over here for you!”
An especially agile swordsman came at him. A slash to the left and then to the right—a feint and then an undercut—
Putting one hand on the end of his blade, he locked swords with the other man. Then he shoved on the sword, pushing the swordsman backward and causing him to stumble. He could feel the blade biting into his hand. Yet it had bought him a moment.
He glanced toward the Fenik. Two golden eyes gazed on him with sinister glee.
“Fenik!” he said loudly, gritting his teeth. He had no doubt that the dragon could hear him despite the raucous noise of the thunderbirds. “You owe me, Strix! I freed you from your prison with the Groundbreathers and returned you to the sky realm! I made sure your wings were healed! I am meant to be your king!”
There was a flicker of some indefinable emotion in the beast’s eyes, and then a low rumble of laughter sounded from deep within its large chest. “Foolish Skychild. I was playing you from the beginning. My ideas helped you escape. Without me, everything would have come to naught! You were a fool to trust me so easily.”
Skye growled beneath his breath. His opponent came at him with a downward blow, the air swishing beside Skye’s face as he darted aside. Skye widened his stance, his boots gripping the stone floor. Then he sent his sword shooting forward on a gust of wind that sped through his assailant’s defenses. The sword was buried in the surprised man’s stomach.
The guard fell to his knees, gasping. Kneeling in front of him, Skye stretched out his hand and withdrew the bloody sword. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, “but you chose the wrong side.”
He was about to rise to his feet when he sensed someone coming from behind. But even as he twisted to protect himself, he knew he would be too late.
The expected blow did not come. Instead, his would-be assailant was stabbed from behind. The man collapsed to the ground, the sword sliding out of him as he fell. Skye looked up at his savior with gratitude.
“Come on, Skye,” Gusty said, reaching a hand down. Skye took it and rose to his feet. “I’ll be at your back. I’ll stick with you to the end.”
“Thanks,” Skye said with genuine warmth, turning so that his back faced his friend’s. He wondered how this was the same man who had once been so reluctant to flout Groundbreather authority.
He and Gusty fought together for a few minutes, backs against each other as they warded off their opponents. They brought up whirlwinds to keep their enemies from pressing in on them. They hacked and slashed at any who dared approach them. Despite the fact that the throne room had erupted into chaos, Skye was feeling confident. His people were winning.
And then movement to the side caught Skye’s eye. He turned and saw that one
of the Seneschal’s men had climbed up on a pedestal holding a statue of a long-gone Skychild king. The man’s bow was drawn.
Skye followed the line of his aim, and his eyes fell on a pair of struggling combatants, one dressed in Iron Sword garb, the other in Sentinel armor. The Sentinel pressed forward with his short sword, batting aside the other’s longer sword and bringing the blade back in a vicious slash. The short sword impacted against the Iron Sword’s helmet with a clang so loud it was audible above the general din of battle.
The mask was knocked askew, and as the Iron Sword dodged to the side, the mask fell off entirely, revealing Tierra’s face.
Skye’s eyes flew back to the Skychild. He had nocked an arrow. The arrow was aimed at Tierra’s heart.
“Tierra!” Skye shouted. He sent a gust of wind spiraling forward, knowing even as he did that he was too late.
And then the impossible happened. An arrow appeared in the center of the Skychild’s chest. The arrow meant for Tierra went shooting upward to the ceiling. The man fell from the statue to the ground.
Skye searched the throngs of combatants for the source of the arrow that had saved his beloved. And he gasped as he saw who it was. His heart skipped a beat.
“Cirrus?”
When at last the Groundbreathers had gathered their strength for a strike at the heart of Skychild lands, they began to creep forward, using guile and stealth, as thieves in the night.
The Groundbreathers slunk into the Skychild palace and made their way to the room where the Fenik was kept. There, the glory of the creature filled their eyes, and they could scarcely look upon it without being blinded.
They knew immediately that this was what they had sought.
And when the creature saw them, dread filled their breasts, for they knew that the Fenik had the power to render them dust should it only choose to do so. Awful was the moment in which they waited for their doom to fall upon them, and many cursed Terrain for sending them to their destruction.
But when the Fenik moved not to destroy them, exultation filled their breasts, and they gloried in the power of their god, supposing that it was his hand that had protected them.
—The Book of Celesta
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Counterattack
Cirrus nodded his head to Skye, as if surprise was a completely unnecessary reaction to his sudden appearance. “Keep your focus on Hawkins, Skye,” he shouted across the room. “Don’t stand around waiting to be killed!”
Skye had a million questions for his friend—the primary one being why he was not dead—yet he bit them all back and concentrated once more on the battle. There would be time enough to strangle Cirrus for worrying him later.
“We need to get to Hawkins,” he told Gusty. “If we can kill him, this will all be over.”
“Understood,” Gusty said. He sounded tired, but Skye had faith in him. He would fight until the very end.
Skye reached a hand up to wipe some of the sweat off his brow. He would have to cut back on using his wind powers. He could need his energy soon.
He tried to press toward the Fenik, but the crowd of men was too thick. He raised his sword. “Resistance!” he shouted. “Rally to me!”
Members of the resistance fought their way toward him, and he noticed that Griffin and Nimbus were among their number. He could sense that Tierra was struggling to move in his direction as well, and he sent her a message: “Tierra, please stay where it’s safe!”
The reply she sent was one he was surprised to receive from her. It was made abundantly clear that she had no intentions of simply hiding in the background. He should have known better. She had, after all, completely disregarded his wish that she stay behind with her parents. She must have disguised herself as a Groundbreather soldier so she could join him undetected. But there would be time enough to discuss that with her later.
Groundbreather and Skychild soldiers began to surround him, and he reflected on the irony that in this confined area, the powers of Groundbreathers were more useful than those possessed by the Skychildren. The multitude of stones flying through the air was evidence of that. The throne room would need a lot of work once the battle was done.
He started to direct his people toward the Fenik. But the closer he got, the more confused the thunderbirds became. He could hear the Fenik directing the birds to attack Skye and his men. He tried giving them orders of his own, but they refused to go anywhere near the Fenik. They obviously feared Celesta’s ultimate avian creature, and Skye could not blame them.
“This isn’t working,” Skye called over to Gale. Unfortunately, the woman was fighting along a line of attackers, and she could not spare him her attention.
“Fall back!” Skye shouted at last. He moved further from the melee, drawing the greater part of his forces away from the defending soldiers and the Fenik. “Attack, you stupid birds!” he directed the thunderbirds.
A loud cry went up. The birds plunged down on Hawkins’s men, savaging them from the air. Skye’s soldiers went on the offensive, and the opposing forces began to dwindle. The panic in their eyes was becoming a real thing. It would only be a matter of moments before Hawkins’s forces began to break apart.
“You can’t win, princeling!” Hawkins’s cackling rang out over the din. “When I release the Fenik, you will all perish, and I will still prevail!”
“He is right,” Tierra’s voice sounded inside Skye’s head. “If he unleashes the Fenik’s powers inside the throne room, that oversized bird will roast us all.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Skye asked, dodging a sword thrust and beating his opponent back with several heavy swings.
“We should take the fight outside. At least we can maneuver there.”
“You’re right. We’re winning the battle right now, but when the Fenik truly becomes involved, this fight is over.”
Skye risked a glance at the Fenik, which was eying him in a rather disconcerting manner. He immediately knew the creature’s thoughts. If it could put Skye out of the battle and kill him, then no one could challenge Hawkins’s hold on it. And if Skye was to guess, Hawkins was not the one who was ultimately in control.
“Fall back further!” Skye yelled. He began a fierce assault on the man in front of him, driving him away several steps.
Then Skye retreated toward the throne room’s exit, drawing the bulk of his forces with him. He turned as his men were exiting the throne room and directed a sneer at the Seneschal.
“Hawkins, you sparrow!” he called. “Care to meet me among the clouds, or are you too much of a songbird to fly with the raptors?”
Hawkins began to shout a series of curses at him, but Skye did not wait for an intelligible answer. Instead, he turned and ran from the throne room, just ahead of the final retreating members of his forces.
“What in the name of Celesta’s skies are you doing?” Cirrus demanded as soon as Skye came upon him in the corridor outside the throne room.
“We can’t win against such a large foe in the confines of the throne room,” Skye gasped as he ran. “Our only hope is to meet the Fenik in the sky.”
“We have to gain control over it,” Cirrus said. “Unfortunately, the Book of Celesta says it can’t be defeated.”
“As if I didn’t already know that,” Skye muttered under his breath.
Behind them, the Fenik bellowed in rage. Several of Skye’s soldiers covered their ears against the noise.
Glancing back, Skye could only hope that the Seneschal would refuse to give the Fenik free reign. Given time, it was possible that Skye’s forces could find an opportunity to strike. Until then, Skye would try to make the Fenik wary of attacking them head-on.
They emerged from the front gate of the palace out into the bright sunshine of early morning. By now, the battle had drawn the attention of the Skychildren living in the village sprawled out to the side of the palace walls. Curious townsfolk would no doubt be approaching soon desp
ite the attractions of the Midsummer Day festival. But the middle of a battle was no place for innocents.
Skye spotted Griffin nearby and gestured to him. When the man came forward, Skye said, “We need to keep everyone who isn’t fighting the Fenik in the town. Can you take care of that?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Griffin said. He moved and spoke a few words to some men nearby.
As several soldiers veered off from the main force to spread word of the battle, Skye took a moment to gaze up at the sky, wondering when the Fenik would make its appearance. He did not have to wait long.
A massive shape burst up through the opening in the throne room. The beast beat its wings, rising into the air above the Skychild palace, casting a shadow over those below. It was an awe-inspiring sight, and one which could not fail to stir the hearts of any Skychildren within range. This creature had been a part of their history since their beginning as a people, and though it was now, in effect, an enemy, their admiration for it would not be dampened even a jot.
“Skye!”
Skye turned to see Tierra running toward him. He caught her in his arms and held her against him. “I’m furious with you, Tierra,” he told her, cradling her to his chest. “You should be back at your father’s castle, safely away from this.”
“Nowhere is safe from that monster, Skye.”
Skye grunted and gazed back at the sky, where the Fenik was banking at an incredible speed, intent upon devastating them all.
“Get ready!” Skye shouted, releasing Tierra. “The Fenik is returning! Skychildren to the air! Groundbreathers, assist from below!”
“Groundbreathers, use the palace!” Tierra exclaimed suddenly. “Fashion stone lances. Skychildren, fling the lances through the wind!”
