Broken Prophecy

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Broken Prophecy Page 13

by K J Taylor


  ‘I’ll take one of whatever people drink around here,’ he said immediately. ‘Actually, you’d better make it a double.’

  The bartender poured him a large blue-tinged beer. ‘That’ll be one demon eye. So, what brings you to Sandfire, stranger?’

  Ambit took a mouthful of beer, and pulled a face. ‘Not the booze, that’s for damn sure. I’m looking for a weapon.’ He held up his spear. ‘Does this look familiar?’

  The bartender looked at the spear. ‘That’s an unusual bit of weaponry. What’s it made from?’

  ‘A metal that can’t be melted or broken,’ said Ambit. ‘Ever see anything like it before?’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ said the bartender. ‘Old Wittock the storyteller has a staff made from metal like that. Do you know him?’

  ‘No, but I’d like to,’ said Ambit, with a quick glance at Elyne. ‘Where does he hang out?’

  ‘He comes to the fountain most nights to tell his stories,’ said the bartender. ‘I’d wait for him there if I were you.’

  ‘Gotcha,’ said Ambit. He polished off the beer, which tasted like seaweed. ‘That gives us the rest of the day,’ he said. ‘So here’s my plan. Elyne, you and Rigby can explore the town and pick up some supplies. Meanwhile, I’ll go and meet up with Snarl, and see what she’s found out. We can meet at this fountain around sunset. How’s that sound?’

  ‘Good,’ said Elyne. ‘But . . . be careful. Don’t go into demon country by yourself.’

  ‘I can handle myself,’ said Ambit. ‘I do it all the time.’

  ‘Yes, but if anything happened to you . . .’ Elyne began.

  Ambit listened patiently to the rest of her speech, and then nodded with appropriate seriousness. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘I won’t take any risks I don’t have to. See you later.’

  He left the pair of them in the town square, and walked off to go and find Snarl. The moment he was away from his companions, his heart lifted. The rare times he got to be away from them always reminded him just how depressing he found it to be with them – the instant they were out of sight he felt better. And now, by the looks of it, they were about to pick up companion number three, so he’d be one step closer to getting rid of the lot of them. And not a moment too soon either; the bellflower mark on his hand was growing clearer all the time. If this kept on, before long it’d be as clear as it had been before the day he decided he wanted nothing to do with being the Chosen One. Every time the others called him that, a little piece of him died.

  Once he’d passed out of Sandfire’s gates he followed the wall until he was in demon country, and set off to find Snarl. It was unlikely he’d encounter any demons this close to human country. He wasn’t too fussed about it either way; a little physical risk would make a change.

  The Fifth Mountain’s land wasn’t too different from other demon country he’d seen. The stone ground was the same colour, and everything was as craggy as what he was used to. But he walked down toward the shore to see what it looked like there, and found something more interesting to look at. The lava had clearly poured down into the sea, and it had made huge, stark rock formations at the water’s edge – great black stone fangs, as if the land were trying to eat the sea. The effect was only slightly spoilt by the seagulls nesting all over the volcanic rocks.

  Ambit stopped to take it in, and then walked on through them until Snarl came to find him. Not much of a feat – the landscape was just as flat as it had been back on the plains, so he must stand out from miles away.

  ‘Hey, Snarl, how’s it going? Find anything out?’

  As always, the small demon looked much more at home here. ‘I met up with a couple of other demons,’ she said. ‘Snake-shapes. The last time I saw any of those was back in the Third Mountain.’

  ‘Did they say anything interesting?’

  ‘There’s another companion here,’ said Snarl. ‘You were right. He comes out here to attack any demon he finds.’

  ‘Knew it,’ said Ambit. ‘Does he have a special weapon?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Snarl, ‘a huge spiked club. It’s that traveller we heard about on the way – Tannock. He’s here.’

  Ambit started. ‘Really? Huh. Does he come from Sandfire?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Snarl. ‘If he’s a traveller, maybe not. What did you find out?’

  ‘There’s some old man in Sandfire with a special staff,’ said Ambit. ‘With Tannock, that means we’ve found the last two.’

  Snarl heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Finally. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You go back to Sandfire and find this man, and I’ll see if I can find where Tannock is staying.’

  ‘All right, but don’t let him get you,’ said Ambit. ‘If you could carry paper I’d give you a letter of introduction or something.’

  ‘I’ll keep my distance. Trust me,’ said Snarl. ‘Let’s meet again in the morning. I’ll hide at the edge of demon country nearest to the city gate.’

  ‘Right,’ said Ambit. ‘Good luck, Snarl.’

  ‘And you.’ The small demon reared up to look him in the face. ‘It’s nearly over now, Ambit. Don’t worry.’

  ‘I don’t worry about things. I sulk,’ said Ambit. ‘See you later.’

  That evening Ambit, Elyne and Rigby sat together by the whale fountain. They weren’t the only ones. Apparently, this storyteller was quite popular as a small crowd of adults and children had gathered. The pubs had set up chairs outdoors and were serving drinks to the audience well before Wittock arrived.

  The moment Ambit saw him, he knew he’d found the second-last companion. Wittock was tall with a silver beard and hair which matched his metallic grey eyes. He wore an elaborately embroidered robe, covered in so many flowers that he looked like a walking garden. The staff in his hand was made from the same metal as the other special weapons, topped by a round green gemstone held in a setting shaped like a blooming bellflower. It looked very decorative, but Ambit noted the outward-curling petals and leaves, which looked sharp and sturdy. Being hit with that would not be a lot of fun.

  When the old man arrived, Rigby made a move to get up and go to him, but Ambit pulled him back. ‘Let’s hear the story first; we’ve got time.’

  He had claimed a table outside the Silver Wave, and he and the others ordered a meal, which they ate while Wittock took his place. He’d obviously done it many times before. He went to stand on the edge of the fountain, holding the staff in front of himself in both hands. A large group of children sat down in front of him, with adults at the back. Some had brought their own chairs to sit on, and others were standing.

  ‘Boy, this looks familiar,’ Ambit murmured to himself. He just hoped that this time he wouldn’t have to listen to the story of the Chosen One again – the temptation to heckle would be unbearable.

  It was not Ambit’s lucky night. Wittock waited until his audience had settled down, and then started to speak, launching into the story without preamble.

  ‘Once, the Land of Flowers was a peaceful land, a land of plenty. The flowers bloomed, the rivers flowed clear and sweet, and the people were happy. But that was before the demons came . . .’

  He had a storyteller’s voice, at least; rich, deep and slow. Ambit growled to himself and ordered another foul-tasting beer. He did his best to ignore the story, but as he told the tale, Wittock gradually started speaking a little more loudly.

  ‘The Chosen One will have the mark of the silver bellflower, and wield a special weapon,’ he said, slowly turning to look directly at Ambit. ‘He could be anyone, and come from anywhere.’ The hint of a smile showed on the old man’s face. ‘He could even be here, right now.’

  Ambit caught his eye and winked.

  Wittock’s smile grew clearer. ‘That’s the story for tonight. I hope you enjoyed it.’

  Several of the children started to complain. ‘That’s it? What about the others?’

  ‘Just one for today,’ said Wittock. ‘I have a sore throat.’

  The crowd grumbled, but they threw demon eyes at his
feet anyway. Wittock gathered them up, and as his listeners started to disperse he walked over to Ambit’s table, staff tapping. Rigby had dragged an extra chair over and Ambit waved Wittock toward it.

  The old man sat down with his staff lying across his lap. For a long moment he sat in silence and just stared at Ambit, quietly taking in the sight of him. Ambit sat and let him do it.

  ‘Let me see it,’ Wittock said eventually.

  Ambit held out his hand, palm up. Wittock gently took hold of it, and examined the faint shape of the bellflower. Then, saying nothing, he turned his own hand over and showed his own palm. The mark was there, just as Ambit had known it would be. Elyne and Rigby took their cue, and silently held up their hands.

  Wittock took a deep breath. ‘At last, the day has come.’

  ‘We’ve been looking for you, Wittock,’ Ambit said with as much gravitas as he could muster.

  ‘And I’ve been waiting,’ said Wittock, ‘Chosen One.’

  ‘That’s me,’ said Ambit. ‘The name’s Ambit Afterman, and this is Rigby and Elyne. And you’re Wittock, right?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ said Wittock. ‘The last member of my family.’ His eyes had gone a little red with emotion. ‘All these years waiting, telling my stories, knowing I was the last one. Knowing that you might never come at all.’

  ‘The waiting is over,’ said Ambit. ‘Now we’ve found you, there’s only one more of us left to find.’

  ‘One more?’ Wittock repeated. ‘Where are the others?’

  ‘In demon hands,’ said Ambit, ‘but one more of us is free, and once we’ve found him we’ll go to the Third Mountain and set the rest free. Are you ready to come with us?’

  Wittock smiled. ‘I’ve been ready my whole life. Do you know where the last companion is?’

  ‘Sort of,’ said Ambit. ‘I have a demon working for me. She says a man called Tannock is somewhere not far from Sandfire.’

  ‘Tannock?’ said Wittock. ‘You mean Tannock the traveller?’

  ‘Yeah, he’s got a huge club apparently,’ said Ambit. ‘Heard of him, have you?’

  ‘Of course I have,’ said Wittock, brows lowering. ‘He’s my nephew. But I thought he would never come back here again.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Ambit, ‘why not?’

  ‘We argued,’ said Wittock. ‘He wouldn’t listen to me. He stormed out of Sandfire and said he was never coming back. I told him he couldn’t keep trying to fight the demons at the Fifth Mountain alone. I was worried about him, but fighting is all he cares about.’

  ‘The old story,’ Elyne sighed, ‘but at least he knows how to fight.’

  ‘He’s reckless,’ said Wittock. ‘But you’re right, we have to take him with us. I only hope we can find him before he gets himself into trouble.’

  ‘I’m sure we will,’ said Ambit. ‘I’ve sent Snarl to find out where he’s camped – she’s a demon, so they won’t notice her if he’s in demon country. We’ll meet up again in the morning and she’ll tell us if she’s found him.’

  ‘A demon, working for you?’ said Wittock.

  ‘She’s his servant,’ said Rigby. ‘She’s a horrible little imp, but she’s been travelling with us since the beginning and hasn’t betrayed us.’

  ‘Well . . . if you trust this demon, Chosen One, I will too,’ said Wittock. ‘For now we should prepare for our journey.’

  ‘Yeah, verily,’ said Ambit. ‘We’ll take a room and meet you here tomorrow.’

  Wittock nodded. ‘I will go back to my home and lock everything up. Goodnight, Chosen One. You don’t know what an honour it is to have finally met you.’

  ‘Please just call me Ambit.’

  ‘Goodnight, Ambit.’ Wittock got up, bowed to him, and left.

  Eleven

  ‘I’ve found him,’ Snarl announced the moment Ambit and the others found her waiting at the agreed place.

  ‘Great,’ said Ambit. ‘Where?’

  ‘Well, that’s the difficult part,’ said Snarl. ‘Your not-so-little friend is camped out in demon country.’

  ‘He’s what?’ said Elyne.

  Wittock sighed. ‘I told you he was reckless. We should get to him before something happens to him. Can you show us the way, demon?’

  His tone was surprisingly polite. Snarl nodded to him. ‘Follow me,’ she said.

  The four humans followed the small demon into the territory of the Fifth Mountain. They stuck together in a loose group, each one watching out for signs of demons, and every one of them holding their weapons ready. So far, Ambit hadn’t seen the others fight, except for when they practised in the evenings, and he wondered if they’d be any good if there was trouble.

  Wittock had changed out of the robe he’d been wearing the night before, which he’d said was his ‘storyteller’s outfit’. Now he was wearing a more sensible outfit of loose trousers and a long shirt, both of which emphasised his stick-like build. A large bag hung on his back, and he carried the staff in one hand, not needing to lean on it. He might be old, but he wasn’t frail. He walked steadily, and showed no sign of a tremor, or any short-sightedness. And he was a storyteller, so Ambit was hoping he’d make more interesting company.

  Ambit himself went at the front of the group, just behind Snarl, who guided them in the direction of the mountain without hesitating.

  ‘Your friend had better not be leading us into a trap,’ Elyne whispered.

  ‘She’s not,’ said Ambit. ‘Anyway, it’s not as if there’s any cover around here.’

  There wasn’t, or not until they were much closer to the mountain, where they found a demon village. The humped shapes of demon dwellings looked like a set of hills, with steam rising between them here and there.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Snarl told them. ‘It’s deserted. Look, you can see the smoke from Tannock’s fire.’

  It was easy enough to spot once you knew to look for it – a column of grey among white. As they went closer to it, they started to see something much more alarming. Lying among the houses were the bodies of dead demons, at least four of them. Human-sized demons, their bodies melted onto the dark stone where they had fallen. As the lava inside them had flowed out, their skins had hardened into hollow rock shells, which were already crumbling, unable to bear their own weight. Even so, Ambit could see the crush-marks left by the weapon that had killed them.

  ‘Yes, this is Tannock’s handiwork,’ Wittock murmured.

  ‘He must really be a mighty warrior,’ Rigby said in awestruck tones.

  ‘Four demons all by himself is pretty impressive,’ said Ambit, actually meaning it for once. ‘I wonder what happened to the rest of them.’

  It was unlikely that Tannock had managed to kill every demon in the village, but they found enough dead bodies to make it clear that he’d made a definite dent in the population. Maybe the rest of them had run away.

  They found the great warrior himself sitting by a fire at the entrance of one of the abandoned demon caves, where he had made a fairly permanent-looking camp. Firewood had been stacked nearby and Tannock, a big burly man with an impressive gut, who looked nothing like his uncle at all, was busy toasting a loaf of bread. He dropped it and snatched up the massive metal club which lay beside him the moment he saw Snarl.

  The demon sensibly ran away, and Tannock looked about to go after her before Ambit put himself in the way. ‘Stop that. She’s working for me.’

  Tannock stopped and stared at him. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name’s Ambit Afterman,’ said Ambit. ‘You’re Tannock, right? Your uncle told me all about you.’

  Tannock lowered his club. ‘Oh . . . hello, Uncle. What are you doing here?’

  Wittock smiled at him. ‘In the middle of things as usual, I see. How are you?’

  Tannock stuffed the club into his belt, and folded his arms. ‘Fine. What about you? Still telling stories for demon eyes?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ said Wittock. ‘And you? Still travelling the country, trying to destroy all the demons by yourself?’

>   ‘At least I’m doing something,’ the big man growled. ‘What have you been doing about it all these years? Sitting in Sandfire entertaining children?’

  Ambit stood by patiently and let them argue, but before long Wittock held up a hand to silence his nephew.

  ‘Tannock, listen to me,’ he said. ‘The time for all of that is past. The day has arrived. After today, you will never have to fight alone again. The Chosen One has come.’

  Ambit held up his own hand. ‘That’s right, I have,’ he said, ‘and I’ve come for you.’

  Tannock, whose hair was indeed striped pink and who had pink eyes to match, peered at him. ‘You? You’re the Chosen One?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Ambit. ‘And these are some of the eight companions – Elyne, Rigby, and your Uncle Wittock. And that demon over there is Snarl, my servant.’

  Tannock looked at him in disbelief. ‘This is insane. The Chosen One?’

  ‘What, didn’t you think I existed?’ said Ambit.

  ‘No,’ Tannock said bluntly.

  ‘Oh, well,’ Ambit shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. Want to fight demons with me?’

  ‘Are you any good?’ asked Tannock.

  ‘Me?’ said Ambit. He twirled his spear. ‘I’m a fucking ex – the best spearman I know. You any good with that club?’

  ‘The best,’ said Tannock.

  ‘Prove it, then,’ said Ambit. He pointed toward the Fifth Mountain. ‘That’s where I’m going today. Are you with me?’

  The others started.

  ‘What?’ said Elyne. ‘We’re going to attack the Fifth Mountain? Now?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Ambit. ‘Why not?’

  ‘But . . . there’s only five of us,’ said Rigby. ‘What about the others?’

  ‘What about the others?’ said Ambit, finally letting his impatience show. ‘We’ll have to attack the Third Mountain with just the five of us. What’s the difference? It’s my destiny to kill the nine demon lords, and this is where I’m going to start. And if you don’t want to come with me, then I’ll go alone.’

  ‘No, Ambit,’ said Wittock. ‘It’s too dangerous. If we lost you . . .’

 

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