03 Sky Knight (31 page)

It is for these reasons that Crow’s pet hydra, who had been lying quite still while the battle raged around him, was able to spring up in a venomous fury, when Cumulo moved within striking range.

Cumulo was in the thick of the fighting, surrounded on all sides by the hideous spider–soldiers. He was rending and clawing, biting, snapping, and spewing flames, completely oblivious to the new threat behind him.

He heard a warning cry from Private Meadow, but by then the serpent was on him, multiple sets of teeth clamping down to inject a lethal dosage of poison.

But Cumulo was not the same dragon he had been at Mother’s temple, when the hydra had been able to overpower him. Cumulo had consumed the strength of the leviathan; he was stronger in every conceivable way.

Even in the midst of such a terrible conflict, Private Meadow was able to hear every set of the hydra’s teeth shattering against Cumulo’s scales.

With a screech, the hydra recoiled; and Cumulo turned to face his adversary.

‘You,’ he snarled. ‘I have a score to settle with you.’

The hydra hissed, but there was very little else it could do, now that it didn’t have any teeth.

Cumulo drew himself up to his full, formidable height. He spread his wings as far as possible, until it seemed they were grand enough to envelope the entire ruins in shadow.

The hydra shrank away. It was by no means a stupid animal. It knew very well it was about to get really hurt.

***

Sky was still slightly dazed from the tumble she had taken, but she had enough sense to stay behind Captain Obsidian, who was valiantly fighting with just one arm. As long he was alive, and he was between her and the advancing spider–soldiers, she knew her chances of survival were dramatically improved.

But the defenders were slowly being eroded away by the constant stream of enemy soldiers. Even though Obsidian was a great warrior, and inspired greatness in those around him; even though the great stag and his wolves fought with a ferocity no human could generate; and even though the mighty Cumulo was cutting swathes of bloody death through their enemies, Sky knew they could not hope to win this fight.

‘Get back,’ Obsidian snapped at her, as he deftly cut his way through two soldiers. ‘These things are going to keep on coming, and I can't keep this up forever.’

‘There must be something I can do to help,’ she said, jumping back into a small clearing among the ruins.

‘There is,’ Obsidian said, wiping the sweat from his brow. ‘Stay out of the way so I don’t have to worry about you getting your fool head cut off. Find somewhere to hide.’

‘I think we’re fresh out of hiding places, Captain.’

Obsidian didn’t have time to argue his point, as he was beset by three soldiers and became preoccupied with the far more pressing matter of not being killed.

Sky ducked behind a chunk of blood–spattered stone, her breath vibrating in her ears, her pulse thudding in her neck. This was horrible. She felt so utterly useless.

But what could she do?

As if in answer, the winged form of the pegasus appeared above her. It landed without a sound, and glared at her. A motion of its head indicated she should climb on.

‘Where’s my dad?’ Sky asked.

The pegasus snorted, and moved its head more agitatedly.

‘Where’s my dad?’ Sky repeated. ‘What have you done with him?’

As she expected, the pegasus didn’t answer; but there was a look in its shining eyes. Something she didn’t like. Something that made her realise that her father was gone forever.

‘You let him die,’ she said, feeling a terrible emptiness opening inside her chest, expanding to consume her completely. ‘You let him die,’ she repeated, louder this time. ‘You took him away and then you let him die. I hate you. Why couldn’t you be like Cumulo? Why did you have to be so horrible?’ She was screaming now. ‘Do you hear me? I hate you. You’re just a stupid, stupid animal.’

The pegasus trotted towards her. Its fluttering wings unfurled, and it did not stop until its nose was virtually pressing against hers. Then it turned its head to one side, so Sky could get a really good look at one of those moonlight–silver eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There was nothing in that eye. No life. No feelings. Just her reflection. It was distorted and vague, barely discernible; but it was there just the same. Her reflection.

Nothing more.

‘I made you, didn’t I?’ she whispered. ‘Up here.’ She tapped one finger against her temple. ‘I threw the star. I chose. You’re just me, aren’t you?’

The pegasus said nothing. It didn’t need to. Sky already knew the answer to the question.

‘Did I want my dad to go away? I mean... I didn’t want him dead. But did I want him gone?’

The pegasus gave its wings a quick flap, as if to say, ‘Get on, I’m in a hurry.’

Sky shook her head, and tried not to think what it meant that this pegasus had chosen to kill the wyvern that had chased her. She didn’t want to believe that this creature, this piece of her imagination, was able to do, and was going to do, the things she would not admit to wanting to do herself.

‘I don’t think I know me at all,’ she said, sadly.

Once again, the pegasus motioned for Sky to climb on, and this time she paid attention. She was about to mount, when she saw someone she recognised walking towards her.

‘Strata?’ she said. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I woke up in a cellar,’ Strata said, rubbing the side of her head. ‘The others said I should stay down there, but I couldn’t. Not while all this was going on. Are you going to find Nimbus?’

‘I...’ Sky paused, looked at the pegasus. ‘Of course I am,’ she said.

‘Will you take me with you?’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I have a feeling.’ A small pixie, seen as little more than a fine twinkle of dust in the night, flittered distractedly around her head. It darted this way and that, creating spirals and other symbols, as if it was trying to convey a message.

‘Are you okay? You look woozy.’

‘I’m okay. Just a bit dizzy. Something hit me in the head earlier. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.’

Sky jumped on the back of the pegasus, offering Strata a hand up. ‘What hit you?’

A gigantic shape, with many flailing heads, came hurtling through the air, smashing into several pillars before coming to rest in a tangled mess, covered in stone dust and gore. The hydra made a faint hiss, and one toothless head looked around blearily before the last of the life drained out of it.

‘That thing, actually,’ Strata said.

***

Nimbus stalked towards the cowering necromancer, ignoring the way Moon’s presence tore at his heart and cut at his spirit until it felt like all the bits that made him who he was might seep away. He focussed only on his hate, his desire to cut Crow’s head off and hold it up to show the world that this... this... was how the necromancer’s reign of terror ended.

‘Nimbus. Don’t do this,’ Moon said.

There was a terrible howl from somewhere among the ruins; a cry of desolation that, for a fleeting moment, seemed to bring the entire world to a grinding halt.

‘Listen to the fairie,’ Crow gasped. ‘You don’t want to kill me. Think what that would make you. Look at me! I’m beaten. She’s already beaten me. If you kill me, you’re not a hero any more, you’re just a murderer. You don’t want to live forever knowing you murdered someone who couldn’t defend themselves.’

‘Shut up,’ Nimbus said, bluntly.

‘Seriously. You don’t want to do this. I know you.’

‘You don’t know me.’

‘I know Wing Warriors.’

‘You took my friend’s dad away from her,’ Nimbus said, gesturing towards Glass, who was still crying hopelessly over the body of Sky’s father. ‘And you took away my dad too.’

‘Listen. It’s not –’

‘Because of you, my dad is dead.’

‘Nimbus.’

‘You killed my dad.’

‘Just listen.’

‘No. No more. This ends tonight.’

Moon took a step closer. Crow screamed in agony, his heart lacerated with emotions that it had not felt for hundreds of years. Nimbus felt it too, but he hardly even flinched. ‘Listen to me, then,’ the fairie said. ‘This is a job for your sister, not you.’

‘This is my responsibility.’

‘No, Nimbus. Not everything is your responsibility. And not this.’

Nimbus waved his hand at the fairie dismissively, and turned his attention back to the whimpering necromancer. ‘Funny how things change, isn’t it?’ he said, and he raised the spirit blade.

Even through his pain, Crow was able to laugh viciously. ‘You’re a fool, Boy. Kill me with that sword, and you are playing right into the vampyr’s hands. He is master of the spirit blade, and he consumes the spirits the blade cuts. If you kill me, he will gain all my strength, and my magic. Can you imagine, a creature of eternal undeath, able to walk in daylight, able to command the spirits from beyond the void? You would create a monster far greater than I could ever be. It would be the end of the world.’

Nimbus smiled mirthlessly. ‘But it would be the end of you. And that’s what matters.’

‘Don’t, Nimbus,’ Moon said.

The spirit blade fell, glittering, and cold, and cruel.

***

Hundreds of years.

Centuries in the company of the fairie princess, listening to her sad ramblings.

Decade after decade with the thoughts and feelings of the unicorn wedged in his mind, like a thorn wedged under a fingernail.

Lifetime upon lifetime of waiting for something that might never happen.

And then, here was that something.

Light dashed across the body–strewn killing fields, darting between skirmishing soldiers. He reached the perimeter of the ruins, launched himself over the spikes, and skidded to a halt on the other side. There, with the fighting on all sides, and the great dragon, Cumulo, running amok among the tightly pressed bodies of the spider–soldiers, Light threw back his head and howled.

So desolate and lonely was that cry, so utterly broken, that most of the combatants hesitated, and turned to see what kind of creature would make so tragic a sound.

‘Did I get your attention?’ Light growled.

Several spider–soldiers seemed to lose interest in the fight, and began to scuttle away from the ruins. Light drew a deep breath.

‘You’ve been in my head a long time,’ he said to himself. ‘Let’s see if you’ve been worth putting up with.’

An odd glow was coming from within the wolf, and now it grew brighter; pulsing with Light’s heartbeat, expanding until the whole of the ruins and the grounds beyond were illuminated. And all those who chose that moment to look at Light did not see a wolf: they saw a magnificent unicorn, reared up on its hind legs, fierce and beautiful and horrifying beyond imagination.

The spider–soldiers began to convulse, their legs wobbling and then giving way completely. All over the battleground they fell, crashing in piles of armour with their hideous limbs twitching in spasm. And all the time the glow in and around the wolf grew stronger, almost as if it was somehow feeding on the trembling soldiers.

Cumulo, who had temporarily perched on the top of the tower, watched the scene with fascination. He was a legend, a creature of magic, and he could feel what was happening. He could smell it, taste it even; and he gripped the stone around him in a mixture of fear and excitement. Somehow, the wolf was draining all the magic out of the area. It was severing the connection between Crow and his creations, bleeding the spider–soldiers of the very energies that kept them moving. And all of that magic was being drawn into the wolf.

What strength! To be able to hold so much raw power and yet not explode with it.

Cumulo knew, from memories that had been gifted to him by his ancestors while he was still just an egg, that there was only one creature in all the history of all the world that was able to absorb and contain such strong magic. It was the fairie princess’s unicorn; the familiar that Crow had killed in the great magical war.

The dragon did not know how it was possible, but somehow, on this night, an old score was being settled.

The light continued to become brighter, until it was almost blinding, and then suddenly the wolf lifted his head and released a howl that sounded like the wailing of lost spirits. A geyser of energy, a fountain of multi–coloured magic, burst from the wolf’s jaws, spraying into the dark sky where it broke into a million flickering stars that glimmered briefly before going out.

Cumulo looked around, allowing himself a small smile. Not a single spider–soldier was left standing.

Light collapsed, panting heavily, with his head resting on his front paws. His whole body shivered, suddenly empty now that all of the magic had been vented.

‘She warned me,’ he said, as the last of his strength failed. ‘She warned me that absorbing too much could kill me. Kill us. I’m sorry, Little Unicorn.’

For just a second longer he felt the unicorn as a part of him, an irritating thorn in his mind; but then the gentle spirit of that ancient legend slipped away, nothing more than a kiss in a dream, and Light was alone in his own mind.

‘What a relief,’ he thought to himself. ‘Finally, I can scratch.’

Then his heart stopped beating, and he went to sleep.

***

The spirit blade fell, glittering, and cold, and cruel; but at the last moment something stayed Nimbus’s hand. There was a brilliant flash of light from the ruins, and a terrible wail, as if hundreds of spirits had suddenly been released into the world of the dead. And somehow he knew, Crow’s army had been defeated.

His hand trembled, the point of the sword resting against Crow’s chest; but he could not deliver the killing blow.

‘Seen sense, have you, Boy?’ the necromancer wheezed.

Nimbus shook his head. ‘Killing you wouldn’t achieve anything. You've already lost.’

Even as he spoke, he became aware of a presence behind him. He did not turn around, but instead angled the flat of the spirit blade so that he could see the reflection of who was there.

‘I wondered how long it would be before you dared to make an appearance,’ he said.