03 Sky Knight (30 page)

‘Wait,’ he gasped. ‘Wait.’

The sword stopped moving. Beneath his hood, Crow frowned as he felt his control over Nimbus fade.

‘I’m in charge now,’ Glass said, emerging from the trees, with Reflection trotting along beside her. ‘You won’t be making my brother do anything else he doesn’t want to do.’

Crow recoiled from the little girl, his hood falling back to reveal eyes that were not entirely human, but which were wide with human fear. ‘You,’ he hissed.

The unicorn’s horn glowed brilliantly, and tiny tendrils of light twisted around Glass’s hands. Her mouth was set in a straight line, her expression was serious. ‘You’re not very nice,’ she said. ‘You’re a bad man.’

She reached out with one hand and stroked Reflection’s side. Where her fingers touched, her flesh seemed to fuse with the flesh of the unicorn. It was as if they were two parts of the same thing; separate, and yet entirely joined.

‘Keep back,’ Crow hissed, as crackles of dark magic began to form in the air around him.

‘I don’t think so,’ Glass said, waving her hand.

Crow felt his legs being whipped out from under him, and he fell heavily. At the same time, he unleashed a bolt of black energy: A searing blaze of anti–light that leapt from his palm and struck Glass in the chest. She staggered under the force of the attack, gripped Reflection’s mane, and then straightened up again.

The necromancer was already on his feet, and energy was forming in a glistening black web around his hand. Glass braced herself, and the next bolt that Crow unleashed dissipated harmlessly against a glittering shield of magic.

Reflection snorted, and the ground around Crow exploded. Shards of stone soared into the air before raining back down like knives. Crow gestured, and the stones turned to dust, scattering on the wind.

‘Is that the best you have?’ the necromancer said, more confident now.

‘No,’ Glass said. ‘I’m just testing you.’

She closed her eyes, and it felt to Crow as if a giant had punched him in the face. The world went black, and he hurtled through the air, landing with a crash among the twisted roots of a nearby tree. Shaking his head, he began to rise; but the tree roots were writhing and lashing out, grabbing his arm, wrapping around his body. He struggled and screamed, but he was held fast, imprisoned.

And all this time, as the air sizzled with magic, Nimbus remained frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch as his baby sister did what he had never been able to do: defeat Crow.

‘Little witch,’ the necromancer screeched, struggling uselessly. ‘Stupid witch, using dryad magic on me. Woodland magic. Pah! How dare you!’

Reflection’s eyes glimmered, and she looked sad, like she was able to see the man that Crow had once been, and regretted that he could not be that man again.

Glass moved closer. Crow was strong and wily, and she needed all of her magic and attention to keep him under control. The magic she had previously been using to stop Nimbus cutting his own wrists, she was now using to subdue Crow; and the attention she had previously been focussing on Nimbus to make sure he didn’t come to any harm, she was now focussing entirely on the furious necromancer. So, she did not see Nimbus suddenly breaking free of his paralysis; and she did not see him lifting Venom.

‘Glass!’ Nimbus shouted.

She half–turned. The spirit blade glittered in the moonlight as Nimbus brought it slashing down, against his will. Crow’s expression changed from one of dread and anger to one of triumph.

What happened next, happened so fast that it was hard for any of them to later explain it. There was a blur of motion, as if a shadow had sprung into life, a noise like the howling of the wind, someone crying out in pain, and then Glass was gone.

Reflection brayed in agitation, Nimbus stared in shock at the gleam of blood on the tip of the spirit blade, Crow redoubled his efforts to escape; and far above them all, Sky’s father rode the pegasus, holding Glass to his chest protectively, and trying not to think about the burning pain in his right shoulder where Nimbus’s sword had cut him to the bone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Crow snapped off one of the roots pinning him down, and used magic to cause several more to wither away. He was virtually free of the trees embrace, when Reflection cantered up and looked at him. Her nostrils flared, and her horn gave out a strange light that made Crow’s brain ache when he looked at it.

‘You can’t stand before me without the witch,’ Crow grinned. ‘Don’t you know I kill unicorns?’

‘She knows,’ a gruff voice said. ‘I know too.’

Crow glanced up at the sound of the new voice. There was a gigantic white wolf sitting in the deep shadows beneath the trees, his teeth bared in a snarl.

‘You look surprised,’ Light said, padding out into the open. ‘Can you sense what’s inside me? Can you feel the spirit you tried to destroy?’

Crow sat back. ‘How is it possible? I killed the fairie’s unicorn. I watched it die.’

‘There are ways. But if you think that’s impressive, wait until you see what I do next.’ And with that, the wolf dashed off: a white streak against the oppressive gloom of the killing fields.

‘What was that all about?’ Crow muttered, untangling himself from the tree and getting to his feet. Reflection backed away, but showed no signs of retreating completely. ‘Now, where was I? Oh yes. I was going to get the Wing Wimp to kill this unicorn.’

In a flurry of leaves, a black shape came rushing out of the upper reaches of the night. It landed beside Reflection, but was visible only as a vague shape defined by the light emanating from the unicorn’s horn.

‘A pegasus too?’ Crow said. ‘How many legends am I going to have to kill tonight?’

The pegasus stamped its foreleg, holding its wings high in an effort to appear huge and intimidating. Sky’s father, who was now barely conscious, slumped off the creature’s back, landing in a broken–looking heap on the ground. Glass climbed down, kneeling beside him. Something was wrong here. The wound in his shoulder was bad, but not bad enough to kill him; and yet his breathing was slowing, his pulse was weak.

‘And now everybody is back, we can get on,’ Crow said. ‘Nimbus, would you be so kind as to kill your sister for me?’

Nimbus began to mechanically move towards Glass. Venom was clenched tightly in his trembling right hand, and sweat was beading on his forehead as he fought to deny Crow’s commands. But for all his efforts, he continued to approach: A puppet completely under Crow’s command. A useless toy, with no will of his own.

‘Glass,’ he groaned. ‘Stop me. Please.’

Glass held up one hand, fingers spread wide, and Nimbus stopped in his tracks. He could feel the conflicting forces working against him, like invisible hands crushing him to death; and it felt as if he might pop under the strain.

‘Glass,’ he gasped. ‘Is Sky’s dad hurt?’

‘You got him with your sword,’ Glass said. ‘He’s dying.’

‘Can you save him?’

‘Not like this. It’s taking too much energy counter–acting Crow’s control over you. I can’t do both.’

Sky’s father made a choking gurgle, and his eyes opened wide, as if he was seeing some terrible phantasm from beyond the grave.

‘Then you have to let me go,’ Nimbus said. ‘Kill me. Or knock me out. Actually, do the second one. Knock me out.’

Crow watched the siblings curiously, and then the twitch of a sneer pulled at the corner of his mouth. Instantly, Nimbus felt bands of power clamping around him, squeezing him remorselessly. His legs buckled, but he did not fall. ‘Don’t you see?’ the necromancer said. ‘You can’t beat me. You aren’t strong enough.’

‘Glass,’ Nimbus said.

Glass turned to the pegasus. ‘Go,’ she said. ‘Whoever, whatever, you are. Find someone who can help us.’

The pegasus returned her look. Its eyes were mesmerising pools of molten silver.

‘Please,’ Glass said.

The pegasus nodded once, then threw itself up into the darkness, becoming a part of the greater dark beyond.

‘Glass,’ Nimbus gasped. ‘Do something. You have to make something happen.’

And then something did happen. Just when it seemed the terrible energies that were encircling him might finally rip him to pieces, Nimbus was released from their deadly clutches. So sudden was the departure of the conflicting forces raging against him, he was overcome with a sense of complete weightlessness; and it felt as though he might drift away on the wind. It was an incredible sense of release, but all too brief. A moment later, the full weight of his body came back to him, along with something weightier still: something that was not physical, but an emotional drain deep inside.

He fell to his knees, trembling and retching uncontrollably. His muscles had been screaming in pain as he fought to resist Crow’s influence, but now their pain was dulled, replaced instead by a much keener kind of suffering; a hurt that cut straight to his heart, and threatened to bleed him dry. Visions of his father floated behind his eyes, and he could not hold back the tears.

Crow also doubled up in pain, clutching at his chest as if he had been mortally wounded. He made a choking sound, and staggered away. He got no more than a few paces before he collapsed, making unnatural, guttural noises as he clawed at the dirt and shook his head.

Reflection snorted haughtily, and cantered over to stand beside Glass, who no longer needed to expel any energy on Nimbus, and had turned her attention to Sky’s father. ‘I know,’ she said, as the unicorn nuzzled her neck. ‘Moon is coming.’

A gleam of moonlight broke through from beneath the boughs of the towering trees, cutting the world into bands of dark and light; and then Moon appeared. She looked first at Crow, who was nothing more than a humped cloak in the gloom, and then at Nimbus, who was sobbing hopelessly, lost to his despair.

‘Nimbus,’ Moon said. ‘Get up.’

Nimbus wiped his eyes, and rubbed his nose; but he didn’t have the strength to stand. His mind was burning with images of his father’s death, those last fateful moments of the brave Wing Warrior’s life playing out over and over again, the ending always the same.

‘Nimbus,’ Moon repeated.

‘I can’t,’ he said.

‘A good man will let his sadness strengthen him. An evil man will let it destroy him.’

Crow screamed horribly, his whole body shaking with sorrow. ‘Get away from me,’ he howled, as he tried to crawl away. ‘You can’t make me feel like this. I won’t let you. I can see her eyes. I had forgotten her eyes. I had forgotten her scream as they burned her to dust. I don’t want to remember these things.’

Moon remained at the edge of the woods, watching the necromancer and the Wing Warrior as they squirmed. They had so much in common; they both had so much sadness in their lives.

‘Nimbus,’ she said. ‘This fight is over.’

‘Nothing is over,’ Crow spat. ‘I have an army at my disposal.’ Even now, some of the spider–soldiers had seemingly lost interest in the battle at the ruins, and were scurrying back to their master. ‘Did you really think you could defeat me just by walking in here and reminding me why I started this war in the first place?’

With some effort, Nimbus got to his feet. The torment of being so close to Moon was still there, tearing at his insides; but his anger was great, and he found that if he put all his energy into that anger, the pain did not seem so unbearable.

Moon smiled meekly, and brushed the hair out of her face. ‘Don’t worry about the soldiers, Lord Wing Warrior. My familiar has a little trick for dealing with them.’ Then to Glass, she said, ‘The time has come. You must do what I cannot.’

‘Not yet,’ Glass said, remaining crouched beside Sky’s father. She rested her hands over his heart, and then with a gentle push, her fingers moved painlessly into his chest. His eyes opened, and he grabbed at her, holding her wrist tightly.

‘He is coming. I see him coming for me,’ he said.

Glass’s fingers probed around inside his chest, eventually latching onto something wet and slippery that wriggled in her hands as it tried to break free. ‘Hold on,’ she said. ‘I have your spirit, and I will not allow it to leave.’

‘Glass,’ Moon said, urgently. ‘You have to kill Crow. Now. If Light should fail in his mission, we will be overrun by soldiers in seconds. There is no time to lose.’

Glass shook her head violently, her concentration locked on Sky’s father, who was mumbling almost incoherently now as the spirit blade went about its morbid business.

‘I cannot stay,’ he murmured. ‘I see him with his almond eyes, and his purple cape. He cannot be denied. He is too powerful.’

‘You have to hold on.’

‘You are a friend of my daughter. I need you to tell her. Tell her, I am sorry. And, tell her...’ He coughed violently, and Glass felt that tiny, shivering thing inside his body grow weaker. ‘Tell her that, like me, she is free.’

‘I won’t let you go,’ Glass said.

But there was nothing she could do. The struggling spirit finally wriggled out between her fingers, fleeing blindly into the arms of a dark terror who waited in a purple cloak on the border between this world and the next.

Glass cried in frustration, and beat her hands on the dead body’s chest. The spirit of Sky’s father was lost forever. It was not dead, nor was it alive.

It was no longer anything at all.

Nimbus stood motionless, watching his baby sister crying over the dead body.

‘It’s not your fault,’ Moon said to him.

‘I know,’ Nimbus said, turning on Crow, who was crawling towards the trees. He tightened his grip on Venom. ‘I know it’s not.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Legend has it that the only way to kill a hydra is to sever all of its heads, and then burn each stump, sealing the wounds so that new heads cannot grow in their place. This is, obviously, not true. If you cut something’s head off, it will die. That’s the way the world works. However, hydras are incredibly tough to kill, and can soak up a lot more punishment than one might expect. Furthermore, they are a form of serpent, and as such they are cold–blooded, ruthless, and masters of deceit.