The Riders of Thunder Realm

by Steven Lochran

‘Do you both need reminding that we’re meant to be brethren?’ Drake interrupted him. ‘We should be above this kind of petty squabbling.’

  ‘Sleeping King, spare me,’ Zeke moaned. ‘You really do think you’re perfect, don’t you?’

  ‘He’s right,’ Hero spat. ‘We don’t want or need your constant arbitration.’

  There was a flicker of hurt in Drake’s eyes, but he frowned it away. ‘At least I’m making an effort to be more than I am.’

  ‘Oh, is that what you’re doing?’ Zeke demanded. ‘Because ever since we met I’ve smelt the whiff of something phony about you. You’re trying so damn hard for everyone to like you it reeks of desperation. Or maybe something more sinister …’

  Drake shifted uncomfortably. ‘What are you implying?’

  ‘I’m not implying anything. But it does strike me as odd that Thrall would know what path we’d taken after leaving Tower Town. Could it be that he was luckier in his search for an ally than you’ve been letting on?’

  ‘Leave him alone, Zeke,’ Joss said to his own surprise.

  The Zadkille prentice stared at him in astonishment before going right back on the attack. ‘Come on, Josiah. Don’t tell me it hasn’t occurred to you too. Or did he involve you in his little conspiracy when he threw the thieves’ daughter and me out of the spriggan’s hut?’

  Hero sneered while Drake withdrew, his eyes now flaring into anger even as the rest of him remained placid and inscrutable. Joss thought of the suspicions that had led to him leaving Drake behind outside the catacombs, of the look that Drake had given him, and he felt a terrible weight pressing down on him. Then he thought of all the worry he’d been feeling for Zeke, and that weight became a wrecking ball.

  ‘You know what? You might have a handy little gadget that can tell you anything and everything you might ever need to know, but it certainly doesn’t make you any wiser,’ Joss said firmly.

  Zeke opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. His finger was still pointed at the group like the barrel of a thunderstick, but Joss was damned if he was going to let him get off another shot.

  ‘I never had anything like that while I was growing up,’ he barrelled on. ‘No Scryers, no jet-cycles, no fathers or brothers or distant uncles. Just me. My entire world was torn away and nobody has ever been able to tell me why. You stared at the sky, Hero? I stared at the walls.’

  Joss allowed his words a moment to sink in, assured that he had everyone’s attention. ‘Drake’s right. We’re meant to be brethren,’ he said. ‘We should start acting like it.’

  Hero let out a mirthless laugh. ‘Brethren. What a joke. Tomorrow it’s going to be just the same as the day we started, and every day of my life before that.’ She removed a zamaraq and started spinning it around in her fingers, the metal singing with each swipe. ‘Everyone for themselves.’

  ‘Planning to sabotage us, Blade’s Edge?’ asked Zeke.

  ‘Just don’t get in my way,’ she told him, and snapped the zamaraq shut.

  Joss felt himself trembling. It was an odd sensation, one that surprised him with its intensity. Even with the turn that the evening had taken, it was unusual for it to have had such an effect on him. But the longer the trembling lasted, the more Joss realised that it wasn’t him doing it.

  ‘Can you feel that?’ he asked, looking out across the field where the fireflies were fleeing, trails of light fading behind them as they vanished.

  ‘Looking for a distraction, eh?’ Zeke asked bitterly.

  Ignoring him, Joss placed a hand on the bare earth, then leant down to press his ear beside it. Everyone fell silent as they watched him. The sensation was faint, distant, but he could feel it all the same. Sitting bolt upright, Joss pushed the single word out from between his lips as if it were a curse.

  ‘Stampede!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  A SCRATCH OR TWO

  GATHERING up as many of their possessions as they could, Joss rushed with Hero and Drake to their mounts. The ground was growing more unstable by the second, shaking with the intensity of an earthquake. Whatever was charging towards them, it would be on them in moments. Not that Zeke seemed particularly worried. He’d stepped clear of his bedroll but remained standing beside the fire.

  ‘Zeke, quick! We have to get clear while there’s still time!’ Joss called out as he saddled Azof, the raptor bucking nervously.

  ‘You’re all going to feel very foolish in a moment. Trust me,’ Zeke replied, staying resolutely in place.

  ‘Zadkille, don’t be a fool!’ Hero shouted. She’d already climbed up onto Callie’s back and was steering the tiger towards the hill. ‘We need to get to higher ground. Now!’

  Reaching into his pocket, Zeke removed his neutraliser. ‘Hey Joss, remember this?’ he asked, twirling the device in his hand as if it were a bolt gun and he was a champion duellist. ‘How would you like a demonstration?’

  ‘What’s he trying to prove?’ Drake said to Hero and Joss as they all made for the rise of the hill. Joss drew rein to keep from leaving Zeke behind.

  ‘Come on, Zeke,’ he said, Azof shifting his feet uneasily on the sloping grass. ‘Grab your cycle and let’s go.’

  Zeke furrowed his brow, kicked a stone into the fire pit, then straightened his back. ‘Joss. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.’

  The ground now rocking violently, Zeke turned his attention to the spot where the hill met the valley. The roar of footfall grew deafening as, from around the bend, there came a thundering dust cloud. Azof trembled, wanting to bolt, but Joss held him steady. It was impossible to tell in the darkness what breed of thunder lizard was charging at them, but whatever they might be they were fast and powerful.

  Zeke held his ground. He kept the neutraliser poised before him. ‘The trick is in the timing!’ he shouted over the din. ‘Too soon or too late and you’re a goner …!’

  The moon shed itself of the clouds that had been concealing it. Silvery blue light was cast on the stampeding herd. Joss choked back a gasp. Though he’d never seen these creatures in the flesh, nor anything like them, he recognised them all the same.

  Centaurs.

  Numbering in the hundreds, they charged on cloven hooves, their humanoid heads crowned with pointed horns. If Zeke was panicked by this revelation, he didn’t show it. He remained out in the open by the fire, waiting for the exact moment to unleash the power of his neutraliser.

  The herd grew closer. Joss could see their black marble eyes, the wrinkling of their wiry fur. Zeke smirked as he squeezed the trigger. The neutraliser wailed in his hand, causing Azof to screech and shake his head.

  But the centaurs didn’t even blink.

  ‘It’s not working …’ Joss muttered to himself, watching in growing alarm as the herd continued to charge. While he and Azof looked to be out of harm’s way on the hillside, the centaurs were now bearing down on Zeke, whose calm demeanour was quickly fragmenting as he tapped and shook the neutraliser. He squeezed the trigger again, and again it had no effect.

  As Azof quavered in distress, Joss dropped down onto the sodden ground. Zeke kept pumping the trigger, still to no avail.

  Joss raised his whip. ‘Ze
ke!’ he shouted. The blond prentice looked up at him, terror in his eyes. ‘Go limp!’

  Joss snapped his whip, wrapping it around Zeke’s waist. With both hands tight on the handle he yanked Zeke towards him. The centaurs stampeded by, tearing up the campsite, their passing as powerful as a serpentrain carriage but far more destructive.

  Gradually the herd thinned until all the centaurs had passed, dust clouds and shattered debris left in their wake. Joss and Zeke lay in a pile just a few short feet from the path of devastation. Sitting up, Joss reflected with numb wonder on just how close they’d come to catastrophe.

  ‘Joss! Zeke! Are you both OK?’ Drake called out as he picked his way down the hillside, Hero close behind him.

  ‘Just a scratch or two,’ Joss replied, rolling his head, stretching his arms and cracking his back. Zeke said nothing as he struggled to his feet and limped to the mound of churned dirt that had been their campsite. His cycle lay shattered on the ground, trampled to smithereens.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Zeke said as he stared blankly at the wreckage. ‘The neutraliser has always worked before …’

  ‘On thunder lizards,’ Hero said, not missing the opportunity to point out the obvious difference.

  ‘It’s OK, Zeke. You can ride with me,’ Drake offered, placing a consolatory hand on Zeke’s shoulder. ‘Pietro can manage.’

  Shrugging him off, Zeke crouched down to pluck a piece of twisted metal off the top of the pile, examining it between thumb and finger.

  ‘As productive as it would be to stay here and cry over cracked eggs all night, we should go back up the hill and find a place to camp before it gets any later,’ Hero said, turning on her heel to start the climb. Drake hesitated in following her, exchanging a concerned look with Joss.

  ‘You go help Hero. I’ll look after him,’ Joss said quietly. Drake still seemed uncertain but nodded nevertheless, then turned to follow Hero back up the hill. They weren’t gone long before Zeke’s legs gave out from beneath him and he slumped onto his knees.

  ‘I shouldn’t be here,’ he said in the small, overwhelmed voice of a child. ‘I’m no paladero …’

  ‘That’s crazy talk,’ Joss replied as he knelt beside him. ‘You’re a Zadkille.’

  ‘Don’t remind me.’ Zeke didn’t meet his eye. Instead, he continued to stare at the remains of his cycle.

  ‘Come on.’ Joss took hold of Zeke’s wrist and pulled him up onto his feet. ‘You’ll feel better after some rest.’

  Together they trudged up the hill, where Hero and Drake were now making camp beneath the colossal ribcage.

  ‘I’ll take the watch,’ Zeke said, then added with a mutter, ‘It’s not like I’m going to sleep anyway.’

  Hunkering down in his bedroll, Joss wondered how he’d ever get to sleep after the turmoil of the stampede and the possibility of being attacked unawares. It was the last thought he had before waking to the sun rising over the valley, his exhaustion having solved the problem for itself.

  A crow was sitting on the tip of one of the rib bones overhead, cawing in the early morning light. Drake and Hero were still asleep beside him. Azof and Callie were also bedded down, both their snouts whistling as they slumbered.

  There was no sign of Pietro. Or Zeke. They were both gone.

  ‘Wake up!’ Joss hissed, shaking Drake.

  ‘… whazzisit?’ Drake asked, his eyes full of sleep.

  ‘I think we’ve been raided, or Zeke is in trouble, or …’

  Drake sat up. ‘Where’s Pietro?’

  Before Joss could answer, Hero vaulted to her feet. He hadn’t even realised that she’d been awake, but there she was, striding over to the log they’d used as a hitching post for the night, her goggles already in place.

  ‘No sign of any struggle,’ she said as she searched the ground that surrounded the animals, then pointed at a set of footprints in the dirt. ‘Those there are Zadkille’s. He untied Pietro from the post and then led him down the hillside. You can see where the grass has been disturbed …’

  ‘He must have wanted to scout ahead, make sure there weren’t any nasty surprises lurking or any –’ Joss stopped, struck by a dizzying thought. ‘Oh, my liege …’ ‘What? What is it?’ Drake asked.

  ‘The Constellation Key,’ Joss replied, recalling the sight of Zeke by the fire, pressing his finger to his lips in a shared secret. ‘I hid it in one of Pietro’s saddlebags.’

  Both Drake and Hero stared at him in astonishment, looking as if he’d just slapped them both across the face.

  ‘That doesn’t necessarily … I mean, it could be anything,’ Joss said. ‘Maybe he’s got an early start on the ride ahead, maybe he wants to make sure the city is secure before the rest of us arrive. He could be feeling bad about last night and is hoping to prove himself to us.’

  ‘Or maybe you’re searching for every answer but the simplest,’ Hero said. ‘Face it, Blade Keeper. We’ve been betrayed.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  A CITY OF GHOSTS

  THE city walls were a thick, black slab of riveted iron. They looked both ancient and highly industrial, as if a modern engineer had been sent back in time to construct them. Joss wondered what could possibly threaten the world in such a way that would demand such imposing fortifications, and shuddered.

  The ride to Vaal had been a frantic one, with Drake clutching tight to Hero as they galloped ahead on Callie’s back. Though Azof could have easily outpaced them with only the one rider to weigh him down, Joss had chosen instead to keep to the rear.

  He still couldn’t believe that Zeke would doublecross them, even with all the evidence before him. Though he wouldn’t say it aloud, some small part of him held out hope that they were horribly mistaken, that Zeke was as honest and good and true as Joss had originally taken him to be.

  And then he thought again of the suspicions he’d had of Drake, and the weight he’d felt earlier now doubled. What misdeed had Drake committed to be worthy of such mistrust, other than being born different? Wasn’t that the same crime that Joss himself had been answering for all his life? With that weight still sitting heavily on his shoulders, Joss rode on towards Vaal with his head down and his eyes averted.

  The sun had risen and peaked and started its descent by the time they reached the edge of the city, though they’d hardly felt its touch. Storm clouds lingered above them, threatening to drown everything below, while the fogs of the Eastern Wilds kept the surrounding lands wrapped in mystery.

  ‘The gates are already open,’ Drake said as they neared Vaal’s walls. Joss looked to see a pair of heavy iron doors, ornamented with countless locks, hanging wide open. Beyond them the city lay drenched in shadows, crows calling from its depths. Their cries were matched by a sudden clamour of voices that yowled from the fogs behind them. The brethren each looked back, the mist lifting just enough to reveal a rider mounted on a black raptor with a battle mechanoid rolling behind him.

  ‘Is that the Grim Rider?’ Drake asked. ‘Did he survive?’

  ‘No,’ Hero replied. ‘It’s Thrall.’

  She was right. The rider was close enough now that his feathered cloak and stone mask could be clearly seen, as could the g
olden sword he held before him. The sight of the Champion’s Blade was enough to make Joss stagger, his mind racing with questions of how it had been salvaged from the undercity catacombs, as well as with the prospect of reclaiming it for himself.

  Not that such a thing was possible. Not while Thrall possessed it. Not while the Skeleton Crew rode with him. Somehow he’d won them all to his side despite the fact that he’d killed their leader, and together they were charging on Joss and the others at full speed.

  ‘Quick! We have to get inside and barricade ourselves,’ Joss said, spurring Azof through the gates into the outer rim of the city. The fog was unnaturally thick in here, flooding the city streets.

  ‘It’s not as simple as that,’ Hero said, riding alongside him. ‘It looks like Zeke unlocked the gates and took the Constellation Key with him. We can’t seal these gates again without it. Thrall and the others will be able to ride straight through. We’re going to have to fight them off.’

  ‘If this was just about letting Thrall into the city, then Zeke would be here somewhere waiting for him,’ Joss replied, painfully aware that every moment they lost was to their enemy’s advantage. ‘Back at Tower Town, Thrall said something about an item he required. Zeke must be searching for it right now.’

  ‘Then we need to stop him. And the only way that’s going to happen is if we split up,’ Drake said.

  ‘Agreed,’ Hero replied. ‘Joss, you know Zadkille best. You go find him while Drake and I deal with these crooked demons.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ he asked.

  ‘Don’t worry, we can handle ourselves,’ Hero said, jumping from her saddle while pulling out a pair of zamaraqs.

  ‘She’s right, Joss,’ Drake added as he unslung his spear. ‘Go!’