Blue Moon Rising

by Simon R. Green

  “Thomas, we have to talk.”

  “Of course, John.”

  “The dragon’s about ready. It won’t be long now.”

  “Good. Every hour I think it can’t get any colder, and every hour it does.”

  “Thomas …” The King gazed steadily into the brazier, as though looking for inspiration in the crackling flames. “I never imagined it would come to this. The Land in ruins, the Castle under siege, so many dead, and all because of us.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, John. How could we ever have imagined anything like this?”

  “We should have.”

  “We did what we thought was best.”

  “And my brave Champion is dead. If he hadn’t made that stand on the drawbridge, the Castle would have been overrun by now. He saved us all. And he died out there, alone in the darkness, not even knowing whether he’d succeeded or failed. I miss him, Thomas. It feels strange, not having him at my side. He had his faults, but he was brave and loyal, and even honourable, in his way. In all the Kingdom, he was perhaps the only man I ever really trusted.”

  The Astrologer raised an eyebrow. “The only one, John?”

  The King laughed suddenly, and clapped the Astrologer on the back. “And you, of course, Thomas. I’d trust you with my life.”

  “I saw you talking to Rupert,” said the Astrologer. “Have you told him we’re going with him into the Darkwood?”

  “Not yet,” said the King. “He’s going to take a lot of persuading. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I think we should tell him the truth. All of it.”

  The Astrologer stiffened, and looked at him sharply. “Do you think that’s wise, John?”

  “I don’t know, Thomas. But I do think it’s necessary.”

  Rupert watched curiously as King John left the Astrologer and started back towards him. He saw the Astrologer reach out as though to stop the King, and his arm slowly drop as he changed his mind. And in that brief moment Rupert saw that the Astrologer was wearing a sword on his hip, carefully hidden out of sight under his cloak. Rupert grinned harshly. It would appear the Astrologer wasn’t as confident in his sorcery as he liked to pretend, if he needed a sword on his hip to back him up. He quickly wiped the smile from his face as the King drew near. He felt Julia slip her arm through his, and he squeezed it gently against his side. Right now, he could use a little moral support. The King stopped before him, and then hesitated, as though unsure how best to proceed.

  “You don’t have to go back into the Darkwood, Rupert. You’ve gone through it so many times now …”

  “That’s why I have to do it again. No one else has the experience I have.”

  “And I’m going with him,” said Julia firmly. “He needs someone to guard his back. Someone he can trust.”

  The King frowned. “How many people can the dragon carry, altogether?”

  “Four, at most,” said Rupert. “So far there’s us, and the High Warlock—”

  “No,” said the Warlock, coming over from where he’d been talking with the dragon. Rupert noted absently that the Warlock’s hair was almost entirely white.

  “What do you mean, no?” said Julia. “We need you!”

  “I’m sorry, Julia,” said the Warlock quietly, “but waking the dragon took practically everything I had. With so much Wild Magic loose in the world, it’s all I can do to control what little magic I have left. Take the Astrologer instead, he still has some magic. I’ll stay here, and give the castle what protection I can. My power will return in time. If the demons would just hold off for twenty-four hours, I could still give them a run for their money.”

  “The Astrologer?” said Julia incredulously. “You’ve got to be joking! We need a real sorcerer. Look, the Castle can’t stand against the demons no matter what you do, but you’re the only one of us who stands any chance against the Demon Prince!”

  “No, Julia,” said the Warlock. “There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

  “Thomas Grey is a fine sorcerer,” said the King. “And he has a way to lead us directly to the Demon Prince.”

  Rupert looked at him quickly. “Us? What do you mean, us?”

  The King met his gaze squarely. “I mean, I’m going with you.”

  “You can’t,” said Rupert flatly. “You’re needed here.”

  “As Julia has just pointed out, the Castle will fall anyway if the Demon Prince isn’t stopped,” said the King evenly. “I have to go with you, Rupert, because without me, you don’t have a hope in hell of destroying the Demon Prince.”

  “Why? Because you’re carrying Rockbreaker?” said Rupert, eyeing the long swordhilt standing up behind the King’s shoulder.

  “Partly,” said the King. “But there is another reason.”

  “Let me tell them, John,” said the Astrologer, moving quickly forward to stand beside the King. His face was pinched and drawn, and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He looked quickly about him, almost angrily, and when he spoke his voice was flat and harsh. “John and I have to go with you. We were there at the beginning of this evil, we have no choice but to be there at its ending.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Rupert, looking from the Astrologer to King John and seeing something in their faces he couldn’t quite put a name to.

  “It’s all our fault,” said the King quietly. “All the deaths, all the destruction. All our fault.”

  “How?” said the High Warlock. “How is it your fault?”

  “We were the ones who first summoned the Demon Prince back to the world of men,” said King John.

  For a long time, nobody said anything. The Astrologer looked almost pathetically defiant, his eyes darting from face to face like a cornered animal’s. The King looked tired and defeated, but still his dignity hung about him in scraps and tatters, and he didn’t flinch from Rupert’s horrified gaze.

  “Why?” said Rupert finally.

  “The Barons were out of control,” said the Astrologer. “They were ruining the Kingdom with their endless intrigues and jealousies. They had to be brought back into line. It seemed to us that a single, big enough threat might be sufficient to unite the Barons in a common cause, and bring them back under the central authority of the Crown.”

  “That was the plan,” said the King. “We thought that if it didn’t work out, all we had to do was reverse the spell, and we could send the Demon Prince back to the darkness he came from.”

  “You fools,” said the High Warlock. “You bloody fools.”

  “Yes,” said the King. “Old, frightened fools. But we were younger then, and we thought we knew what we were doing. It all went wrong, right from the start. We drew the pentacle, and Thomas set the wards. I lit the candles at the stars’ points, and he set the holy water at the vales. I can remember it all so clearly, even after so many years. We said the words, and summoned him by name, and then the darkness fell on us like a ravening animal. I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, but I could feel something moving close at hand, something awful. And then I heard Thomas screaming, and I tried to get to him, but I couldn’t find him in the darkness. Finally I passed out, and when I awoke the darkness was gone, and poor Thomas lay unconscious at my side.

  “The years passed, and there was no sign of the Demon Prince. We thought we’d got away with it, and that he had simply returned to the darkness from which we’d summoned him. And then, just recently, demons appeared in the Tanglewood, and the Darkwood’s boundaries began to spread.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Rupert. “When exactly did you summon the Demon Prince?”

  “Thirty-two years ago.”

  “But, that was when …”

  “Yes, Rupert,” said the King. “That was when we lost the South Wing.”

  “I was away from Court, that summer,” said the High Warlock. “I always wondered why you were so evasive about what you’d been up to in that South Tower. Why didn’t you talk to me first? I could have warned you …”

  “You would have talke
d me out of it,” said the King. “And I didn’t want to be talked out of it.”

  “Figures,” said the Warlock. “All right, where did you and the Astrologer get the kind of power you’d need for that kind of summoning?”

  “We used the Curtana,” said the Astrologer. “I teleported John and myself into the Armoury, John took the sword, and I teleported us out again. Nobody ever knew we were there.”

  “I didn’t know you could teleport,” said Rupert.

  The Astrologer smiled coldly. “There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”

  “So you took the Curtana,” said Julia. “No wonder the Seneschal couldn’t find it. You sent us on a wild-goose chase!”

  “No,” said King John. “That was the problem. Thomas and I returned the sword to the Armoury before we left the South Wing, thirty-two years ago. It should still have been there.”

  Rupert and Julia looked quickly at each other. “Then who’s got the sword now?” said Rupert slowly.

  The King shrugged. “Once I’d broken the protective wards, anyone could have taken the sword. Darius must have been in and out of the South Wing all the time, using those damned tunnels of his. He probably took the Curtana as insurance, in case his schemes came unstuck, and then forgot where he hid it in his madness. And now that Darius is dead, the odds are we’ll never find the Curtana. It could be anywhere in those tunnels, anywhere at all.”

  “Perhaps it’s just as well,” said Rupert. “The Curtana never brought anyone anything but grief.”

  “We seem to have strayed from the subject,” said the Astrologer. “The point is that John and I have to go with you. Since we summoned the Dark Prince in the first place, he can’t be banished or destroyed without our co-operation.”

  Rupert glanced at the High Warlock. “Is that right, sir Warlock?”

  “I’m afraid so, Rupert. That’s what the legends say.”

  “Legends,” muttered Rupert disgustedly. “It always comes back to bloody legends.”

  “I have a right to face the Demon Prince again,” said King John. “Despite all I may have done, I am still King of the Forest Land, and I will have a reckoning for what has been done to the Land.”

  “John,” said the High Warlock. “If you go into the Darkwood, the chances are you won’t be coming back again.”

  “I know that,” said the King. “But we all aspire to moments of nobility. It’s the best any of us can hope for.”

  “Let’s go,” said Rupert. “The longer we stand here talking, the likelier it is the demons will come scrambling over our walls. Dragon! Are you nearly ready?”

  “Of course, Rupert,” said the dragon calmly. “Climb aboard, and we can be on our way.”

  Rupert and Julia headed for the dragon, followed by the Astrologer. The King stopped short as Harald appeared from the main entrance. He waited patiently for his eldest son to come down and join him, and they stood together a moment, neither quite sure what to say.

  “If we don’t come back,” said King John abruptly, “you will be King, Harald. Keep the Land alive, any way you have to. The night can’t last for ever. If the demons come over the walls or through the gates, fall back into the inner Castle and block off the entrance corridors. Keep pulling back, make them fight for every room, every gallery. This Castle was built to withstand any siege. There are enough secret passageways in this place to keep the demons running round in circles for years. Keep your wits about you, and you might just make it. Don’t fail the Land, Harald. Don’t fail the Land.”

  “I won’t, father,” said Harald. “You’d better go now, the others are waiting. Good luck.”

  Rupert and Julia watched from the dragon’s back as Harald and the King embraced each other. Julia shot a glance at the Astrologer, waiting patiently beside the dragon, and then put her arms around Rupert’s waist, and leaned forward so that her mouth was by his ear.

  “Do you think we should say something?” she asked quietly. “If Harald is the traitor …”

  “What could we say?” murmured Rupert. “We’ve no proof against him. You heard the King—with the wards broken, anyone could have taken the Curtana.”

  “But leaving him in charge of the Castle …”

  “There’s nothing we can do, Julia. For now.”

  They fell silent as the King hurried over to the dragon and climbed awkwardly up on to his back, followed by the Astrologer. Everyone settled themselves more or less comfortably, and the dragon stretched out his wings and flexed them experimentally.

  “Stiff,” he muttered. “Very stiff.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to this, dragon?” asked Rupert. “There are four of us, and it could be a long flight …”

  “Do I tell you how to use a sword?” said the dragon. “Of course I’m up to it. You just hang on tight, and I’ll get you there. I just hope someone knows where we’re going. Oh, and Rupert …”

  “Yes?”

  “Next time, try to wake me before things get this desperate.”

  Rupert was still searching for a suitably venomous reply when the dragon surged to his feet. Rupert grabbed quickly for the dragon’s neck as the huge membranous wings beat strongly to either side of him, and then with a stomach-wrenching jolt, the dragon threw himself into the air. The courtyard fell slowly away beneath him, just as the demons finally came swarming over the Castle walls. Rupert watched in horror as they quickly fought their way past the defenders on the battlements, and spilled down into the courtyard. The High Warlock stood alone, balefire blazing from his hands, as the demons came at him from every side. The main gates burst open, the thick oaken doors splintering like kindling, and the courtyard was suddenly full of leaping, clawing demons.

  And then the Castle fell away behind the dragon, and was lost in the darkness. Below him lay nothing but the Darkwood, gleaming eerily under the light of the full Blue Moon.

  “It’s all over,” said Rupert dully. The demons have won.”

  “We’ve got to turn back!” said Julia. “Dragon …”

  “No,” said the King. “We go on. There’s nothing else we can do.”

  The dragon flew on into the darkness, and for a long time nobody said anything. Bitterly cold air rushed past them, cutting fiercely at their bare hands and faces. Rupert felt Julia huddle in close behind him, and he tried to shield her body from the wind with his own. The night sky was empty of stars, but the Blue Moon filled the darkness with an ancient power. The Wild Magic roared upon the night like a giant heartbeat, strange and whimsical and utterly inhuman. Far below him, Rupert could sense things waking and moving that had no place in the time of man. The world itself seemed to be changing subtly as the dragon carried his passengers deeper into the night. More and more Rupert had the feeling that it was they who were out of place; that the world had moved on, and he and his kind no longer belonged.

  The power of the full Blue Moon: to reshape reality itself.

  Rupert shook his head quickly to clear it. So far, nothing had been done to the Land itself that could not be undone by the Demon Prince’s death. At least, that was what he’d been told. Rupert frowned. He was no longer sure he believed much of what he was told.

  “How are you managing, dragon?” Rupert asked, as much for the comfort of hearing his own voice as anything else.

  “I feel fine,” said the dragon, his wings moving easily in a strong, steady rhythm. “I feel… young again. My bones no longer ache, my wind is sound, and I can see for ever. I’d forgotten how good it felt to be young. It’s the Wild Magic, Rupert, I can feel it, singing in my blood. The Wild Magic, loose in the world again, just as it was in my younger days. The days before the coming of man.”

  “Was that a better time for you?” asked Rupert slowly.

  “Better?” The dragon fell silent for a while, and his great brow furrowed as he flew steadily on into the night. “It was … different.”

  The Darkwood stretched away beneath them, an endless tangled mass of interlocking branches. Gnarled
and twisted boughs curled together in an intricate embrace of rotting wood. Savage thorns thrust up through the Darkwood roof, some dappled with recent bloodstains. Shimmering blue moonlight glistened on the decaying branches, and the sweet stench of corruption was everywhere.

  “This may well be a stupid question,” said Julia, “but how are we supposed to find the Demon Prince through that lot? It’ll take us hours to cut our way through, with no guarantee we’re even in the right place.”

  “I’ll find the Demon Prince,” said the Astrologer grimly. “My magic will lead us right to him.”

  “And what are we going to do when we find him?” asked Julia.

  “Destroy him,” said the King. “The Land cries out for vengeance.”

  “Sure,” said Julia. “Destroy him. Just like that. You haven’t the faintest idea of how to go about it, have you?”

  “We’ll do what we can,” said Rupert. “We’ll try cold steel first. If that doesn’t work, we’ll try magic. If that doesn’t work, the dragon can breathe fire on him.”

  “And if that doesn’t work!”

  “Then we’re in big trouble.”

  “Great,” said Julia. “Just great.”

  The endless canopy of interwoven branches flowed steadily away beneath them like a solid, unmoving ocean. The oppressive horror of the long night was a little easier to bear above the Darkwood itself, but still the darkness pressed in around the dragon. It weighed heavily on his wings, and grew stronger the further he flew into the night, almost as though it were trying to force him back. Rupert could feel a pressure mounting against them as they flew on, and the dragon had to labour harder and harder to maintain his pace. The beating of his wings took on a more urgent rhythm, and his breathing became harsh and strained. There were voices in the darkness, muttering and laughing and screaming, and more than once Rupert felt a soft, unsettling touch on his hands or face. He didn’t know whether the others could feel anything, and didn’t ask. He didn’t want to know. He kept wanting to let go of the dragon’s neck and strike out at the darkness around him, to make whatever it was keep their distance, but he didn’t. He couldn’t afford to lose control now, not even for a moment. Easy, lad, easy, he thought determinedly. They’re just trying to spook you, that’s all. Don’t let them know how well they’re succeeding.