Fire and Fury

by Adam Blade

  Smoke swirled around Anoret as she strode toward him. He lifted the mask; the Beast gazed down at him, unblinking. Then, as though she understood, she lowered herself to a crouch as rocks fell around them.

  Tanner leaped onto a boulder and turned the fused pieces of the mask around in his hand. He felt his fingers twitch, and his limbs felt as though they throbbed. He raised the mask above his head and a sudden energy seemed to spring through the air between Anoret and what was once her face. The mask flew out of Tanner’s hands and with a flash of blinding light, morphed and spread over Anoret’s skeletal features. Scars melted away and fresh skin blossomed across the Beast’s cheekbones.

  Thank you, came her voice.

  She raised herself up, spreading her limbs and crying out in exultation. Anoret lifted a claw to Tanner. The cavern shook once more, and a huge section of the roof gave way. Then the Beast vanished behind a wall of smoke and debris.

  Tanner leaped onto Firepos, and they raced through the gap. As they soared through the tunnel, Tanner realized they weren’t clear of danger yet. Rock debris broke away around them, battering Tanner as he lay low against the flame bird’s neck. He could feel her wings thudding up and down to get them to safety.

  Finally, they burst out into the clear, cool air. Tanner guided Firepos in Gulkien’s wake, toward the hillside, away from the plain. Nera and Falkor were already climbing the slope toward the remains of the Avantian army. As Tanner looked back he saw Derthsin’s soldiers still manning the fortress walls, screaming and wailing as the structure collapsed around them. Above, lava erupted from the crater and burst from the side of the volcano. It poured down the mountainside, scorching everything in its path. Like some massive orange tongue, a river of molten rock rushed through the fortress gateway, coating the ramp and swallowing the soldiers at the bottom. With a rumble, the last of the fortress walls disintegrated into the moat.

  Derthsin’s stronghold was no more.

  Tanner landed Firepos beside Gulkien, and the flame bird shook the ash from her wings. Rufus was already working his way through the crowd of soldiers, using his magic to heal their injuries. As Tanner climbed stiffly from the flame bird’s back, tired but elated, the crowd of soldiers let off a roar of triumph. He saw a few dozen smiling faces turned toward him.

  We lost so many, he thought sadly.

  The man called Raurk, with a bloodied bandage tied across his head, rushed to Tanner’s side and gave him a mighty clap on the back.

  “You did it!” he said.

  “We did it,” said Tanner.

  Castor stood tall, balancing on Nera’s back. “Avantia is free!” he shouted. The soldiers laughed and shouted back his words. Castor jumped down and joined a group of soldiers. “How many varkules did you kill?” he asked them. “There was one — a vicious brute with teeth as long as your forearm. He came at me from nowhere….”

  Gwen met Tanner’s gaze and rolled her eyes. “Same old Castor.” She smiled.

  One by one, wiping their bloodied hands on their tunics, the survivors lined up to shake Tanner’s hand. He took each one with a flood of gratitude.

  “You’re the hero of the battle,” Gwen whispered teasingly in his ear.

  Tanner shook his head. He knew he’d only done what he could. “Without all these people, we’d never even have gotten close to Derthsin,” he said.

  When Rufus had finished with the wounded soldiers, he tended to the Beasts. Firepos was unscathed after her miraculous resurrection, but Gulkien had numerous nicks in his delicate wings, and Gwen counted nine broken arrows shafts buried in his fur.

  “He never even let on,” she said proudly.

  Castor went with one of the bands of soldiers to forage for food and firewood in the surrounding countryside. Rufus, meanwhile, turned his attentions to his own Beast. Patches of Falkor’s scales had been scorched away, right through to the muscle in several patches, and he shimmered gold and bronze with gratitude as his rider healed the burns. Nera had a deep cut in her hind leg from a pike, and a tear in her cheek where a varkule had bitten her. She growled patiently as Rufus worked his magic and the wounds sealed up.

  As darkness fell over the kingdom, the lava glowed brightly against the night. While some soldiers made camp, lighting fires and setting the cooking pots to boil, others took the task of digging graves for the dead. The raised mounds were silhouetted against the night, and the songs of victory were sung in mournful tones. Many fell asleep where they flopped to the ground, exhausted from the battle.

  Tanner and his friends sat around their own small campfire with their Beasts. He’d told them about giving the mask back to Anoret.

  “Did I do the right thing?” he asked them. “It felt right at the time.”

  Castor shrugged. “Oh yes. Fighting and killing for a mask that you then give away the first moment you can. That’s a real hero’s journey!” Tanner felt a muscle twitch in his jaw as he stared at his friend. Then Castor winked. “Only joking. Of course you did the right thing!”

  Tanner shook his head slowly. “One day, Castor, I promise you …”

  “What?” Castor asked, his eyes wide in mock shock. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Gwen was laughing softly. “Will there ever be peace between you two?” she asked. Tanner and Castor were grinning at each other now.

  “Never!” they both said at the same time. Rufus watched them all quietly. Always watching, Tanner thought. Always assessing.

  Tanner looked up at the stars. His grandmother Esme had said they held the secret to the future, but for Tanner everything was uncertain. What other secrets lurked in the kingdom? What other enemies awaited them?

  Avantia will need to be rebuilt, Tanner thought. And the people who fought with us today have the strength to do it.

  Derthsin’s cruelty would be remembered with terror for generations to come. The graves of those who had died would act as a painful reminder of all that had happened. But the spirit forged in Avantia’s hour of need, by ordinary people coming together, would lay the foundations of a stronger kingdom.

  Tanner shifted his aching body. For many years after his father’s death, the worst day he had known was long hours in the heat of the bakery. Believing Derthsin already dead, he had yearned after the revenge he could never take. Gor’s march into Forton that awful morning had shattered everything. It seemed long ago, not just a few weeks past, that Tanner had watched Gor stand over his grandmother’s corpse, holding the sword still dripping with her blood. What would she make of him now, the boy who used to practice with a wooden sword in the vegetable garden? The enemy blood he had spilled would never make up for what he’d lost, but every drop was for her.

  And what of his mother? Tanner tried to imagine what she’d been like: a small, pretty woman with long hair and eyes that burned with love for him. Tears swelled behind his eyes as he remembered the last time he saw her, her face split into a scream as Derthsin’s men dragged her away. After everything that had happened, he could finally allow himself to hope that she was alive.

  I’ll find you, he murmured.

  Tanner felt a smile spread across his lips. He let his eyes drift closed.

  The following morning the sky was clear blue, aside from the plumes of ash drifting from the volcano’s peak. The soldiers said their farewells, breaking camp and heading off in different directions to their villages.

  Looking back toward the battlefield and the collapsed fortress beyond, Tanner felt no stirring of the old bloodlust within.

  Gwen came to stand beside him.

  “We achieved what we set out to do,” she said. “Despite all the obstacles: Castor with his guilt, me with my grief for Geffen, Rufus and … well, his secret.”

  Rufus blushed. “Derthsin must have sensed I was susceptible,” he muttered.

  “What do you mean?” asked Castor.

  The wizard boy sighed. “I’ve always known I had magical powers,” he said, “but sometimes I wonder if I was born with a streak of weakness, t
oo. I used my magic to show off sometimes.”

  Castor burst out laughing. “You’re kidding? That’s part of growing up. Look at me!”

  Rufus chuckled nervously. “Maybe.”

  Gwen looked at Tanner. “What was your biggest challenge?” she asked.

  Her question took him by surprise. Tanner thought through the previous days, from the death of his grandmother to the horror as he watched Firepos fall into the lava pit. There were so many things he could think of.

  “Wearing the mask was my biggest challenge,” he said. “The feeling when you wear it … the power within, the Beasts at your command. It’s overwhelming.”

  The others watched him with concerned expressions, until a smile split Castor’s face.

  “Easy, then,” he said. “Don’t think about it anymore!”

  Tanner forced himself to laugh. Firepos cawed softly to him. This part of your journey is complete.

  Tanner walked over to the flame bird and stroked her gleaming feathers.

  “What would I do without you?” he asked. She closed her eyes and pressed her body against his, the heat of her flesh warming him.

  Gwen placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “You’ve done all you set out to achieve — and more,” she told him. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but the axes at her waist still sparkled dangerously.

  “I’m only sorry …” Tanner couldn’t complete the sentence. He didn’t know how he could ever help Gwen forget her brother’s tragic end.

  “Don’t worry,” she said gently. “It’s all right. Or it will be, one day.”

  Rufus’s fingers twitched, as though he was impatient to use more magic. “Shouldn’t we get going?” he asked.

  Tanner turned to Firepos. “You’ve always been there for me,” he said. “Since that first day in Forton when Derthsin came.”

  And I shall always be here, answered the Beast.

  Placing a foot against Firepos’s wing joint, he hoisted himself over her back. The others went to their Beasts.

  “It’s time for us to go home,” Tanner said to the riders.

  “I’ll miss you,” said Gwen, as Gulkien stretched out his wings. “And I know Geffen would, too.”

  Tanner blushed. “I won’t be far away.”

  Falkor slithered to Firepos’s side, and Rufus held out his hand. “I’m sorry, Tanner, about … you know …”

  “Don’t worry,” said Tanner. “In a strange way, perhaps the Fates were guiding all of us. Derthsin wanted you to come to him, and if you hadn’t, maybe none of us would have reached the cavern.”

  “I would have,” muttered Castor. “You three were holding me up.”

  Then Castor’s face opened into a wide smile, and they all laughed. Tanner nestled himself into Firepos’s feathers. He had no idea what the future held for any of them, but he had a feeling they were bound together forever now. They all needed to return to where they came from, but for how long? When would they see one another again? There was still much to do if Avantia was to be returned to the kingdom it once was. But for now …

  “Take me home,” he said, and Firepos rose into the air.

  I spread my phoenix wings, stronger than ever with the volcano’s magic. Lifting my head, I open my beak and call to the others with a cry that echoes through the still morning air. I leap into the sky and climb quickly.

  Your work here is done, Tanner. We have fought off Derthsin and the pieces of the mask are returned to Anoret, mother to us all.

  But for every piece of good fortune, there is an opposite. Today the sky is clear, but the storm clouds will return. I sense a new, unknown path before us. Where it will lead, the Fates shall decide.

  For now, though, I push these brooding thoughts away. I have my friends beside me — the Beasts I was born with. Gulkien tips his head and howls with joy. Falkor tastes the peaceful air with his tongue. Nera springs with the step of a Beast who savors victory.

  My friends, this fight is over, but others will come. We may be parted, but I shall call you to me again some day.

  And we will come, they reply.

  And Tanner. My brave rider. The one I chose, or who was chosen for me. Always Tanner.

  No one will part us, my Chosen One. Together we will face whatever Destiny puts in our way.

  Angry skies and the clash of swords filled Tanner’s dreams. A harsh cry sounded out and he felt himself being torn from sleep, rushing up to the surface of consciousness. His eyelashes fluttered open. He realized that the cry that woke him had come from his own lips. Moonlight flooded through the window. He sat up and dragged a weary hand across his eyes. His dream lingered in his thoughts, threatening and deadly.

  With a sigh, he threw off his blankets and scrambled out of bed, wincing as his feet touched the cold floor. He pushed his long hair out of his eyes and splashed cold water from a tin basin onto his face. Feeling more awake, he pulled his tunic over his head and tugged on his battered old boots.

  He looked out of the window. Light gathered on the horizon, glowing on the rough track that led to Forton. To the north, in the direction of Harron, he saw a faint orange glow. A bonfire, perhaps? Tanner wondered. He gazed at his reflection in the dirty windowpane. Long brown hair framed his pale face. Above high cheekbones, his dark eyes betrayed last night’s troubled sleep.

  I’m late for work, he thought. No time for breakfast. He creeped past his grandmother’s room and smiled as he heard her soft snores. Quietly opening the front door, he stepped into the cold morning. The air misted as he took a few deep breaths. Tanner smelled mint drifting from the well-tended herb garden. The plants had been crushed by something large, and some of the leaves were charred at the edges. “That won’t make Grandmother very happy,” he muttered, smiling. He knew who the culprit was!

  His route to the bakery in Forton where he worked led down the path behind a row of thatched cottages, not far from the edge of the woods where his father had been killed and his mother abducted. It was hard to believe that eight years had passed since that terrible day. The memory of it was as raw as ever: the anguish of his dying father’s face, his mother’s screams as she was dragged away.

  Tanner shook his head and ran to the bakery.

  Heat blasted over Tanner’s body as he sucked in the scorching air. Sweat poured off him, even though he was stripped to the waist. Although not yet fully grown, Tanner was lithe, nimble, and stronger than he looked.

  Using the long-handled paddle, he took the last loaves from the oven and laid them to rest on the cooling racks. He put a couple of loaves under his arm, waved good-bye to the baker — who still had a day of selling bread ahead of him — and stepped into Forton’s village square. In the hours since he’d started work, it had filled with people. The sun had risen over the rooftops, and shutters were opening to the smell of fresh bread.

  Tanner stood for a moment, raising his face to the sun. A washerwoman hurried past with bundles of clean linen under her arms. A fisherman and his son, Ben, balanced a pole strung with trout across their shoulders.

  “Stop by our stall later,” Ben called to Tanner. “I’ll have some fried fish for you, in exchange for bread.”

  Tanner grinned at Ben and lifted a hand in acknowledgment. After the loss of his parents, he had thought there was nothing to live for, but time had gone some way to heal the wound. He had many friends in the village. And his grandmother, although grumpy and short-tempered, looked after him. Life could be worse, he always told himself, when he felt sad.

  Tanner looked at the stout wooden palisade topped with sharpened stakes, and at the shallow, dry moat surrounding Forton. Defenses had been added when Forton was rebuilt after Derthsin’s attack. Despite the protection, fear of violence remained — Avantia was a dangerous place, with no ruler. War bands roamed the lands, raiding villages, and bandits prowled the quieter stretches of road.

  Growing up, ADAM BLADE was fascinated by an ancient sword and shield that hung in his father’s office. His father told him they were a
Blade family heirloom. Adam spent all of his time creating imaginary adventures around the true owner of these weapons. As an adult, Adam decided to bring these tales to life by writing about the dangerous land of Avantia. Adam Blade is also the author of the Beast Quest series.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available

  Chronicles of Avantia is a registered trademark of Beast Quest Limited.

  Series created by Beast Quest Limited, London.

  Text copyright © 2011 by Beast Quest Limited.

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  First printing, January 2013

  Jacket art by Allen Douglas

  Jacket design by Yaffa Jaskoll

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-51004-2

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