Blue Moon Rising

by Simon R. Green

  “You’re kidding, right? You can’t be serious. Afraid of the dark?”

  “Shut up,” said the unicorn. “You don’t understand.”

  “I think perhaps I do,” said the dragon. His great golden eyes studied the darkness warily. “The Darkwood was old when I was young, Julia. Legend claims it has always been here, and always will—darkness made manifest upon the earth. For any who dare to enter, there are dangers for both body and soul.” The dragon stared into the darkness a while, and then looked away uneasily. “What happened to you in the Darkwood, Rupert?”

  Rupert struggled for words that could express the true horror of the darkness, but there were no words. He simply knew, beyond any shadow of doubt, that if he entered the Darkwood again he would die or go mad. With an effort that shook him, Rupert tore his gaze away from the darkness. He’d faced the Darkwood once; he could do it again. Rupert clung to the thought desperately. The long night had marked him, but it hadn’t broken him. Perhaps this time the journey would be easier to bear. He had food and water and companions. There was firewood for torches.

  If I turn back now, I’ll always be afraid of the dark.

  Rupert took a deep, shuddering breath and let it go.

  “Rupert,” said the dragon, “what happened to you in the Darkwood?”

  “Nothing,” said Rupert hoarsely. “Nothing at all. Let’s go.”

  He urged the unicorn forward, but the animal hesitated, and looked back at him.

  “Rupert, you don’t have to do this …”

  “Move, damn you,” Rupert whispered, and the unicorn followed him silently into the Darkwood. Julia followed the unicorn, and the dragon brought up the rear, the needle-thorned briar rattling vainly against his armoured hide.

  Night slammed down as they crossed the Darkwood boundary, and Rupert bit his lip to keep from crying out as the darkness swept over him. The familiar country sounds of bird and beast and wind were gone, replaced by a still, sullen silence. Out in the dark, demons were watching. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there. All his instincts shrieked for him to light a torch, but he daren’t. Light would attract the demons, and the surrounding briar made his party a sitting target. He hurried forward, wincing as thorns stung his outstretched hands. The trail seemed narrower than he remembered, but the briar finally fell away, and Rupert whispered for the party to stop a moment. He fumbled the tinderbox from his backpack, and after several false starts, he lit a single torch. The dancing flame seemed strangely subdued, as though the Darkwood begrudged even that much light within its domain. Decaying trees lined the narrow path. Their branches held no leaves, and gaping cracks revealed rotten hearts, but Rupert knew with horrid certainty that somehow they were still alive.

  “Rupert…”said Julia.

  “Later,” he said roughly. “Let’s go.”

  The company moved slowly along the twisting trail in their little pool of light, heading into the heart of the darkness.

  They hadn’t been moving long before the first demon found them. Crooked and malformed, it crouched at the edge of the torch’s light, watching from the shadows with blood-red eyes. Rupert drew his sword, and the demon disappeared silently back into the darkness.

  “What the hell was that?” whispered Julia.

  “Demon,” said Rupert shortly. The scars on his face throbbed with remembered pain. He handed Julia the torch and moved forward to stare about him. Faint shuffling sounds hovered on the edge of his hearing, and then, slowly, the torchlight showed him glimpses of twisted, misshapen creatures that crouched and scurried and slithered both before and behind the company. Glowing eyes stared unblinkingly from the shadows of the rotting trees. Rupert hefted his sword, but the cold steel had lost all power to comfort him.

  “It’s not possible,” he said numbly. “Demons never hunt in packs. Everyone knows that.”

  “Obviously they don’t,” said the dragon. “Now get back here, please. You’re a little too far from the rest of us for my liking.”

  Rupert fell back to join the company. The demons pressed closer still.

  “Why don’t they attack?” said Julia quietly.

  “Don’t give them ideas,” muttered the unicorn. “Maybe they just can’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to walk into such an obvious trap. I can’t believe it and I’m doing it.”

  “They’re afraid of the dragon,” said Rupert.

  “How very sensible of them,” said the dragon.

  Rupert tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. It took all his self-control not to strike out blindly at the gathering demons. Fear writhed in his gut and trembled in his arms, but he wouldn’t give in to it. Not yet. Unlike the darkness, the demons could be fought. He took a firm grip on his sword, and stepped forward. The demons faded back into the darkness and were gone. Julia sighed slowly in relief, and the torchlight was suddenly unsteady as she finally allowed her hands to shake. Rupert glared about him into the unresponsive darkness, angry that the demons had backed away from a confrontation, denying him the comfort and release of action. He slammed his sword back into its scabbard, and led the company on into the endless night.

  Some time later they reached a small clearing, and stopped for a while to get what rest they could before continuing. Julia built a fire in the middle of the clearing while Rupert set torches to mark the perimeter. The need for caution was past; it was clear the demons could find the party whenever they chose. Rupert lit the last torch and retreated quickly to the blazing fire. The leaping flames threw back the dark, and the fire’s warmth eased the chill in his bones. Rupert frowned as he wearily sank down beside Julia; he didn’t remember the Darkwood being this cold on his first journey through. He didn’t remember this clearing, either. He shrugged, added another branch to the crackling fire, and pulled his cloak tightly about him. On the other side of the fire, the unicorn lay dozing in the shadows. The dragon was off in the dark somewhere, probably frightening demons. Rupert glanced covertly at Julia. The Princess sat huddled under the only spare blanket, shivering and holding out her hands to the dancing flames.

  “Here,” said Rupert brusquely, taking off his cloak. “You’re cold.”

  “So are you,” said Julia. “I’m all right.”

  “You sure?”

  “Really.”

  Rupert didn’t press the point.

  “How much longer before we get out of the Darkwood?” asked Julia, as Rupert refastened his cloak.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Time passes differently here. On my first trip it could have been days or weeks; you lose all track of time in the dark. At least this time we’ve food and water and firewood. That should make a difference.”

  “You crossed the Darkwood without light or provisions?” Julia looked at Rupert with something like respect, and then looked quickly away. When she spoke again, her voice was carefully neutral. “What’s your Castle like, Rupert?”

  “Old,” said Rupert, and smiled. “You’ll like it.”

  “Will I?”

  “Of course. Everyone’ll make you very welcome.”

  “Why should they?” said Julia softly, staring into the fire. “I’m just another Princess without a dowry. Seven sisters stand between me and the throne, even assuming the elders would have me back. And they won’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because …” Julia looked at him sternly. “You won’t laugh?”

  “I promise.”

  “I ran away. They wanted me to marry some Prince I’d never met, for political reasons. You know.”

  “I know,” said Rupert. “Bloodlines.”

  “So I ran away. I didn’t even reach the frontier. They already had seven Princesses, and they didn’t need an eighth, so they sent me to the dragon’s cave.” Julia glared into the fire. “My father signed the warrant. My own father.”

  Rupert put a comforting hand on her arm, but she jerked away.

  “Don’t worry,” he said lamely. “Everything’ll work out. I’ll
find a way to get you home again.”

  “I don’t want to go home; as far as they’re concerned I’m dead! And sometimes I wish I was!”

  She jumped up and ran off into the darkness. Rupert got up to go after her.

  “Don’t.”

  Rupert looked round to find the dragon watching from the shadows. “Why not?”

  “She doesn’t want you to see her crying,” said the dragon.

  “Oh.” Rupert shuffled uncertainly, and then sat down again.

  “She’ll be back in a while,” said the dragon, moving forward to squat beside him.

  “Yes. I’d help her if I could.”

  “Of course you would. Julia’s not a bad sort. For a human.”

  Rupert almost smiled. “We all have our problems.”

  “You too?”

  “Of course; why do you think I came on this damn quest?”

  “Honour, glory, love of adventure?”

  Rupert just looked at him.

  “Sorry,” said the dragon.

  “I’m a second son,” said Rupert. “I can’t inherit as long as my brother’s alive.”

  “And you didn’t want to kill your own brother.” The dragon nodded understandingly.

  Rupert snorted. “Can’t stand the fellow. But if I declare against him, the Forest Land would be split by civil war. That’s why my father sent me on this quest. You were supposed to kill me and rid him of a vexing problem.”

  “Your own father sent you out to die?”

  “Yes,” said Rupert softly. “My own father. Officially, it was a quest to prove me worthy of the throne, but everyone knew. Including me.”

  “But then, why did you go through with it? You didn’t have to face me.”

  “I’m a Prince of the Forest Kingdom,” said Rupert. “I’d given my word. Besides …”

  “Yes?”

  Rupert shrugged. “My family’s other major problem is money. We’re broke.”

  “Broke? But you rule the country! How can you be broke?”

  “The Land’s just had its second famine in a row, the barons are refusing to pay taxes, and if our currency was any more debased you could use it as bottle caps.”

  “Oh,” said the dragon.

  “Right. Oh.”

  “So bringing me back alive isn’t going to help you much.”

  “Not really,” admitted the Prince. “Apart from the hoard you were supposed to have, dragon’s hide is worth a lot of money, you know. So are dragon’s teeth. And as for dragon’s …”

  “I know what they’re worth, thank you,” said the dragon huffily. “I value them myself, rather.”

  Rupert blushed and looked away. “Well, you see my problem.”

  “I’ll think about it,” said the dragon.

  “Will you two shut up and let me sleep,” muttered the unicorn blearily.

  The Princess came back out of the darkness with slightly puffy eyes that nobody commented on, and settled herself by the fire.

  “What were you two talking about?” she asked.

  “It seems the Prince’s family is financially embarrassed,” said the dragon.

  “Broke,” said the unicorn.

  “Maybe when this is over I should go on another quest,” Rupert said gloomily. “Look for a pot of gold at the Rainbow’s End.”

  “If you do, you can walk,” said the unicorn.

  “Rainbow’s End,” said the dragon slowly. “It’s not just a legend.”

  “You mean it’s real?” asked Julia.

  The dragon hesitated. “Sometimes.”

  “How do I find it?” asked Rupert.

  “You don’t, it finds you.” The dragon frowned, struggling for the right words. “Rainbow’s End is a state of mind as much as a place. If you reach it, you can find your heart’s desire, but that may not be what you think it is. There’s a spell …”

  Everyone froze as a branch snapped somewhere out in the dark, and then they surged to their feet. Rupert drew his sword and Julia pulled a wicked-looking dagger from her boot. The unicorn pressed close beside the dragon, nervously pawing the ground. And then, one by one, the torches at the clearing’s perimeter guttered and went out, and darkness welled forward like a tide.

  “They’ve found us again,” said Rupert.

  A figure stepped into the clearing. Tall, spindly and corpse-pale, it squatted at the edge of the firelight, clawed hands twitching restlessly at its sides. Faintly glowing eyes stared unblinkingly from a broad, toadlike head. As the company watched in horrified fascination, more demons crept forward out of the dark. Some walked on two legs, some on four, and some crawled on their bellies in the dirt. Firelight gleamed redly on claw and fang. No one creature was shaped as any other, but all had the mark of foulness on them, a darkness in the soul. Rupert raised his sword and moved forward, and the toad demon came to meet him, loping horribly fast across the uneven ground. Rupert dropped into his fighting stance, and then swayed aside at the last moment to let the demon rush by him. His sword swung out in a long arc and bit deeply into the creature’s back. Dark blood spurted, and the demon fell, writhing silently on the ground until the unicorn slammed down a well-placed hoof. The watching shapes melted back into the darkness.

  “What are our chances?” muttered Julia.

  “Not good,” Rupert admitted, swinging his sword back and forth before him. “There’s too many of them.”

  “But we’ve got a dragon with us,” Julia protested. “Everyone knows dragons can’t be killed, except by heroes whose hearts are pure.”

  “Legends,” said the dragon wearily. “I’m old, Julia. Older than you can imagine. My eyesight’s poor, my bones ache in the winter, and I haven’t breathed fire in years. Don’t even know if I still can. No, Julia, dragons die just as easily as any other creature.”

  “Are you saying we’ve no chance at all?” asked Julia softly.

  “There’s always a chance,” said Rupert, hefting his sword.

  “Not that way,” said the dragon. “You’ll have to make the Rainbow Run.”

  “What are you talking about?” snapped Rupert, eyes still fixed on the lurking shadows among the rotting trees.

  “Rainbow’s End. I know a spell that will take you right to it. If you’re strong enough. Any man who can run down the Rainbow will find his heart’s desire; whatever that might be.”

  “Try the spell,” said Julia. “I won’t let those things take me alive. I’ve heard stories.”

  Rupert nodded grimly. He’d heard stories too.

  “Look out!” yelled Julia. Rupert howled his battle-cry and swung his sword double-handed as demons burst from the Darkwood’s concealing shadows. His blade flashed in short, vicious arcs, slicing through his opponents like overripe wheat. Blood flew on the air, but the demons never made a sound, even when they died. The Darkwood silence was broken only by the stamp of feet on earth, and the ‘chunk’ of Rupert’s blade as it bit into flesh. The dragon reared up to his full height and slammed into the demons, rending and tearing. The dead and the dying lay piled around him on the bloodied earth, and still they came. Julia drove her dagger into a demon’s bulging eye and kicked the twisting corpse aside. The unicorn moved quickly in to protect her, his hooves and horn already dripping gore. Rupert spun and danced, his sword tearing through flesh with murderous skill, but for every demon that fell another rose out of the dark to take its place. A growing ache burned in his arms and back, and every time he swung his sword it seemed a little heavier. Rupert didn’t give a damn. The bottled-up frustration of months on end found an outlet in his fury, and he grinned like a wolf as his sword rose and fell in steady butchery.

  And then it was over. The demons melted back into the safety of the darkness, leaving their dead behind them. Rupert stared about him as he slowly lowered his sword, his harsh breathing aching in his chest. Blood and death lay scattered across the clearing, and as his anger ebbed away, Rupert felt tired and cold and just a little sick. He’d been taught the use of a sword, as befitte
d his station, but his new-found joy in killing disturbed him. To take pleasure in slaughter was the demon’s way. The blood dripping from his blade suddenly disgusted him, and he sheathed his sword without bothering to clean it. He swallowed dryly, and looked round to check how his companions had fared in the battle. The dragon seemed pretty much unscathed, though his claws and teeth gleamed with a fresh crimson sheen. The unicorn’s white coat was dappled with blood, little of it his own. Julia was cleaning her dagger in a business-like way, but her hands were shaking. Rupert shook his head slowly. Without rage to keep him moving, fatigue left him weak and trembling, but already he could hear faint rustlings and stirrings in the dark beyond the clearing. He turned to the dragon.

  “Use the damned spell,” he said gratingly. “Another rush like that, and they’ll roll right over us.”

  The dragon nodded. “It’s all down to you, Rupert. First you’ll see a light in the distance, like a beacon, and then the Wild Magic will show you a path. Follow it. That’s the Rainbow Run. What you’ll find depends on you.”

  Rupert stared out into the dark, and a voice deep inside him said I can’t. It had been hard enough to go back into the Darkwood armed with light and friends, but to give them up and go off into the darkness on his own … Haven’t I done enough? I can’t go back into the dark! I’m afraid!

  “Rupert?”

  I’m afraid.

  “Set the spell,” said Rupert.

  “Get ready,” said the dragon. “I need a moment to prepare.”

  Rupert nodded stiffly and moved away to join the unicorn.

  “Look after the Princess for me, will you?”

  “With my life,” promised the unicorn. “When there’s no other choice, I can be heroic too, you know.”

  “I never doubted it,” smiled the Prince.

  The unicorn shuffled his feet uncertainly. “All in all, I’ve been on worse quests, Sire.”

  “I hate to think what they must have been like.”

  “Will you shut up,” said the unicorn affectionately. “And mind your back on the Rainbow Run. I’ve grown accustomed to having you around to gripe at.”

  Rupert hugged the unicorn’s neck, and turned away to find Julia waiting for him. She offered him a handkerchief.