Ned’s parents and George were immediately swamped by Mr Fox and the BBB’s higher-ups, who were desperately trying to make sense of it all, while Ned and Lucy, brimming with excitement, walked into the bustling crowds.
They came across a great contingent of blue-skinned Apsaras water nymphs. Ned had never seen one before and marvelled at their blue-green skin and peacock-feathered hair. So far from the ocean, they had to constantly douse themselves in salt water and with them, along with their sea spray, they had brought the Jala-Turga from India – powerful, jaguar-like men and seasoned fighters to the last. As Ned stared, he saw countless others that he had no name for. Some were slender and covered in a layer of unmelting frost; others looked as though they were made of glass, their bodies almost completely transparent. There were at least a hundred Kirin. The rare creatures had the bodies of tigers though they were covered in tiny pearlescent scales with small, dragon-like faces and antlers at the tops of their heads. Further along there was an almighty scream as a series of quickly erected tents was crushed by an unwitting colossus.
“Arooora!”
Ned looked up to see, towering above them all, not one but six colossi – great monolithic creatures that dwarfed even giants with their size, their heads barely visible silhouettes against the sky. And that’s when Ned noticed – the sky itself was full to bursting with every imaginable form of transport. Airships in their hundreds were flying in and out, either dropping off allies for the fight, or going back to their homelands for more. Ned could see the Viceroy’s owls and their experienced riders marshalling them all amidst a soaring blur of wild griffins, a herd of flying Pegasus and a pair of giant eagles that were even larger than the owls. It was only when he heard the unmistakable cry that he was able to pick out an old friend.
“Aark!”
High above them, Finn’s two-headed hawk was surveying the forest.
“Lucy, look! Finn must be up there somewhere.”
There were heavy freighters with vast balloons, sleeker single-masted sloops with powerful propellers and other steel-plated airships that bristled with harpoons and cannon. No two from region to region were the same other than their obvious intent – they had all come to stand with Benissimo’s alliance and face Barbarossa and his Darkening King.
“Isn’t it brilliant, Ned? Just look at them – the great un-Hidden! Abigail reckons this is the biggest gathering they’ve ever had!”
Ned’s skin tightened when he saw an entire platoon of heavily armed tin-skins. The last time he’d seen one had been on Atticus Fife’s command, and he’d barely escaped with his life.
Ned and Lucy circled round and headed back for the Gabriella. The air was heavy with woodsmoke and the constant barking of orders as the Hidden’s army, in all its splendour, set up camp. Amidst the chaos and wonder, Ned saw Benissimo. The Ringmaster was deep in conversation with Mr Fox by a red and white striped tent.
Ned looked at the Ringmaster, more than ever the anchor in their storm, and for maybe the first time since stepping into Mavis’s Ye Olde Tea Shoppe, Ned felt hope.
But like all things behind the Veil, it was not to last for long.
Wild Horses
s they approached Benissimo and Mr Fox, the enormous figure of Mavis came into view, a set of freshly brewed teapots at her fingers. Scurrying through her legs were the other Mavii doppelgängers and there was a fast-growing queue of folk falling in line for her teas.
“Ha-har!” she roared, her giant pearl necklace swinging about her neck like a mace. “Come on, you lot, try my Fight-tea – it’ll put hairs on your chests, all right!”
There was a tap on Ned’s shoulder. He turned round to find one of the Mavii standing behind him, with a tray of china and cucumber sandwiches.
“I told you, didn’t I? You’ve more friends than you know!” she smiled.
“Number Six?”
“At your service. And we’ve brought more than tea. Half our patrons have answered the call, or at least they did when Mavis told them to, and you won’t find a tougher bunch from here to Timbuktu.”
As far as the eye could see, there were tents and makeshift housing spilling out away from the forest with hundreds more popping up by the minute. Coming out of one of the larger tents, Ned saw the distinctive sight of Longhorn’s Rodeo, one of the Twelve’s most gifted circuses, and beside them the Jade Dragons from China.
“Bene, I thought Longhorn was with the Twelve?!”
“The Twelve are finished, pup – as of last night. My brother’s smart, cunning even, but he didn’t think things through. After his attacks, there was a backlash. St Albertsburg was the last straw, and it didn’t take the fair-folk long to realise that Fife must be working for my brother. Six of the Twelve’s circuses have already joined, with more on the way.”
But as he said it, Ned noticed that Benissimo was not his usual self. There was a something behind his eyes, and when he saw Ned staring he looked away.
Mr Fox reached into his breast pocket for his packet of soft mints. “It’s been a logistical nightmare. We’ve had to tell the press that there’s been a system crash at every major airport. The entire continent’s airspace has been shut down to let this lot in.”
Benissimo clapped Mr Fox on the back. “Do you know, Mr Fox, I have no idea what anything you’ve just said means, but I’m beginning to rather like you.”
But there was a tremor to the Ringmaster’s voice, despite his attempt at bravado.
A sudden cheer rose up from the staging grounds. Ever competitive, Longhorn’s Rodeo had challenged the Jade Dragons to a race, and a stream of horse-riding circus folk had darted towards the trees that barred their way to Barbarossa’s fortress, to see who could get there first. Ten horsemen galloped ahead, the Longhorns like thieving rustlers from an old western in red, white and blue; the Jade Dragons with flowing green scarves about their heads. The fair-folk laughed even as their tents were flattened and their cauldrons knocked from their fires. Two of the best riders jumped their horses over a pile of supply crates and careered ahead and into the lead, and the crowd cheered them on. The Hidden weren’t hiding any more, no matter how deep the forest or how deadly Barba’s minions. Every one of the assembled had stopped what they were doing to watch, cheering at the riders’ bravery as they bolted for the forest.
For a second, Ned saw, or at least thought he saw, something move in its wooded darkness, but a blink later and it was still again.
Horns were blown and drums beaten and a mighty cheer erupted from the entire crowd. The horsemen were almost there now, speeding closer and closer, moments from the forest’s edge.
And that was when both Ned and Lucy heard it.
“YeSsSs.”
“NO!” screamed Lucy. “Turn back!”
But her voice was a single raindrop in a deluge of others, and as the winning riders stopped triumphantly by the forest’s edge, its branches reached out to ensnare them, great knotted sinews of slick, sickened wood erupting from the trees. What had been a great rousing cheer from the crowd turned to a choral scream. The poor brave men on their mounts could only look back in terror as they were clutched in the forest’s embrace, vines about their arms and necks. In a heartbeat, every rider and horse was no more, swallowed whole by the forest and the master that it served.
All along the wall of trees, a thousand thousand Darkling eyes blinked open and bright, as if the forest had been lit up with stars.
The voice of the Darkening King boomed across the taiga, till the earth shook and every man, woman and beast heard its call.
“ComMeEe.”
The Night Before the Darkness
he mood in the camp had turned to silent terror. Ned hadn’t spoken to Lucy about the voice. There was no need. Every one of the gathered fair-folk had heard it and they all knew what it meant.
Ned and Lucy said their goodnights to his parents and headed towards their tent. They’d been given separate bunks under the same canvas. George, Rocky and Abi the Beard would be ou
tside keeping a watchful eye for intruders, and beyond them were the Tortellini brothers, Monsieur Couteau and a combined force from the Longhorns and the Dragons.
There was no snow now in their part of Siberia, but heavy rains, and the constant pounding of feet had turned their encampment into a muddy, rock-strewn mire. Everywhere they looked they saw the same thing – men and women, magic or otherwise, huddled around fires, trying to stay warm. Some were singing, others arm in arm, a few telling stories in hushed whispers to pass the time or to ease their listeners’ troubled hearts. Those that hadn’t seen it with their own eyes had all heard about the riders and the forest, had all glared at the wood knowing what it had become.
Ned and Lucy’s tent was at the encampment’s rear and high up on a hill to give George and the others a clear view of anyone approaching from the fortress. A little way up its steep slope they slowed in the mud and Ned spotted a man huddled under a decidedly battered top hat. He had a thick blanket wrapped round his shoulders and was sitting on a box of munitions, staring at the campsite below.
“Lucy, look …”
“Bene’s been sitting there all evening. Hasn’t spoken a word to anyone,” frowned Lucy.
As far as the eye could see, there were tents and fires with terrified men, women and creatures bunched around their flames. They had all come because Benissimo had begged them to. He should have been out there amongst them, rousing their spirits, thanking them even, or at least sitting at a table with Mr Fox and the Viceroy, who’d been shut away for hours going over last-minute plans.
“I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing!” said Lucy.
But Ned knew only too well. Benissimo had known since the beginning what was coming and had sworn Ned to secrecy about the brothers’ curse, how they were linked to the Darkening King. He wouldn’t betray his trust, but he could still let Lucy know at least a part of it, the only part that really mattered.
“You know, I don’t get to say this often, but for a Farseer you’re being a bit blind.”
Lucy scowled. “I should probably punch you for that, but I’m too tired.”
Gorrn shifted in the mud uneasily.
“Oh, Lucy, don’t you get it? He’s saying goodbye.”
“To who?”
“To all of them. To the Hidden, to us, to everyone he’s spent a lifetime trying to protect.”
And even in the thin orange light that came up from the campfires, Lucy could see the sadness on the Ringmaster’s face.
“Some of them will make it – we might even make it, Ned!”
But she still hadn’t understood what he was trying to say.
“If we get into the fortress, and it’s a big if, what do you think will happen?”
Lucy looked confused. “Well, we have to find and kill the Darkening King …”
Ned sighed. “And who do you think is going to try and stop us?”
Lucy looked to Benissimo and she realised what he was trying to say. “Barbarossa! His brother, the curse … Of course! I’ve been so focused on the stone and your powers coming back that I forgot.”
“Some of the Hidden will make it, and some of Fox’s men too, but Bene won’t, Lucy. He’s not coming back. If we succeed, he dies.”
Ned’s throat and mouth dried up and he could feel his eyes welling. When he looked at Benissimo, under his drenched top hat, he didn’t see a Ringmaster but the loneliest man alive, completely and resolutely determined to save his people no matter the cost – even if he had to pay with his life.
“There’s got to be another way, Ned! We could capture Barbarossa, lock him up – anything but that! I’m going over there right now.”
Ned put a hand on her shoulder. “There’s no other way, Lucy, we both know it and so does Bene. If you really care about him, let him have his goodbye in peace.”
Against everything she knew or thought she knew, Lucy followed Ned up the hill in silence, passing by the most selfless man that either of them had ever known, and headed sadly back up to their tent.
As they stepped inside, it came as a surprise to both of them that there was another man sitting within its canvas walls. He was eating a fresh golden-green apple, savouring its sweetness and the crunch of its flesh. On his head sat a bowler hat with three black feathers, and resting in his lap was a meat cleaver.
“Hello, Ned,” said Barbarossa. “Hello, Lucy. I hope you don’t mind me dropping in unannounced?”
Barbarossa
verything happened at once. Lucy turned to scream, only to come face to face with Sar-adin. The Demon was in his human form and had been waiting to one side of the entrance. She looked at him, confusion burning on her face, but before she could open her mouth he struck a blow to her head with his cudgel and she fell to the ground.
Fury raged through Ned and he raised his arm, a surge of pure power tearing through his nerves, and from the shimmering air he produced a set of circular spinning blades. Each one was the size of a small plate, their edges perfectly serrated for cutting, and ready to fly at the butcher.
“Arr!” snarled Gorrn.
To Ned’s side his familiar rose up angrily, his surface billowing and ready to strike.
Sar-adin stepped between them and his master, as Barbarossa watched, still eating his apple as though nothing of any interest had happened.
The Demon now faced Ned and, with his back to the butcher, he raised the cudgel till it was level with his own cruel face. But instead of bringing it down on Ned, he placed a finger to his lips and his eyes narrowed. The message was clear: “Say nothing.” Ned breathed a sigh of relief – the Demon was still on their side.
Quickly he took in the scene. Lucy was still breathing and Sar-adin had clearly held back from using his full strength. Behind the bloated evil that was Barbarossa, Ned could see a large cut in the rear of the tent, which explained how they had gained entrance, but not how the butcher hoped to leave.
“You’re mad. All I have to do is scream and they’ll come running, all of them,” Ned seethed.
“Mad? I’ve been called worse, dear boy, and by my own brother.”
His voice boomed like a deep bass drum. Ned hated him, hated him for always addressing him as though they were friends, for the smug smile etched on his face, and for even attempting to conceal his malice.
Gorrn was shaking, waiting only for Ned’s command to fly at the butcher or his Demon.
“I can assure you of two things. I am not mad, and no one is coming. No matter how loud you shout, they won’t hear you. Sar-adin has cast a silencing spell. We will hear them, they won’t hear us. And in any case, most of them, like Lucy, are unconscious with a mouth full of mud. Be a good boy and lower your toys.”
Sar-adin walked behind Ned to cover the entrance. Ned thought desperately – he could make a break for it, but that would leave Lucy with the butcher. Why had Barba taken the risk of coming, if not to kill them both? He let the blades fall. If Barba tried anything he could always make more.
“Stand down, Gorrn.”
“Unt!” his familiar refused, its starry eyes flicking between Lucy and Barbarossa.
“I said, stand down.”
Reluctantly his loyal blob oozed back to the ground and slid into Ned’s shadow.
“Very wise, dear boy, very wise,” gloated the butcher.
“What do you want, Barba?”
Barbarossa took a last bite of his apple and tossed the core aside.
“What I’ve always wanted. You wouldn’t be killed by my clowns – a terrible shame, and to think Mr Fox could be capable of such violence?”
And there it was – Sar-adin had lied to Barbarossa! The butcher, smug and cruel as he was, had a chink in his armour, even now.
“You look surprised. Yes, I know all about your poor Mr Fox. How he became an agent, the girl that was taken from him before he joined the BBB … I know it all.”
Ned remembered his mother’s training – breathe. Everything hung in the balance, Barbarossa couldn’t find out about Sar-
adin, no matter how much Ned wanted to shout it loud to wipe the smug look from the monster’s face.
“After much thought, I’ve realised that you’ve done me a favour by making it this far. You’ve brought all my enemies to one place. St Albertsburg, the attack on your Nest, even the riders this morning … they were all meant to break your collective spirit.”
“It hasn’t worked!”
“No, not yet, but if you were to fall in the battle tomorrow, the Hidden would surrender.”
“Why not just kill me now?”
“If they find you dead in your tent, they will not fight, and I will waste years hunting them down one by one. But if they see you fall in the thick of battle, I shall have them, all of them, surrendering at my feet.”
Ned felt a rage brewing inside him and his Amplification-Engine started to hum.
“And what on earth, Barba, would make me do that?”
Barbarossa grinned. “Because you can’t possibly win. The forest is mine. It was a simple matter to circle around you and approach the encampment from the rear. I have Gearnish’s metal men, I have the Darklings, the Demons, and by the end of tomorrow, I shall have the Darkening King.”
Ned stared at him, defiance bubbling in the pores of his skin. They had the Heart Stone, and Ned’s Engine, and Sar-adin, and the Central Intelligence’s metal men if the Tinker was right. No matter what armies the butcher had, they could still win – the butcher was wrong. Ned allowed himself a small smile.
Barbarossa’s eyes narrowed and his great bearded mouth pursed. “A smile? Ha! Sar-adin, the boy thinks he can beat me! Because you have the Heart Stone? The Fey have had the Heart Stone for thousands of years, and no one has ever mastered it, not even Tiamat before them. You will try and you will fail.”
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