Aurora (29 page)

Pell backed away slowly, feeling for his belt knife. His hand found an empty sheath. His blade was gone, no doubt buried somewhere under the rubble. He was unarmed. Quick as a striking viper, he
stooped and picked up a stone that fitted comfortably into his palm. Segun did not so much as pause. He kept coming forward, his lips curling into an expression that was half smile, half snarl. His
knife hand came up into the classic ready stance as he steadily closed the gap between them.

It was hard enough to walk across the steep field of loose stones, but to do it backwards proved impossible. Despite his attempted care, Pell lost his balance and toppled back. Segun immediately
surged forward. Pell’s instinct was to throw the stone. Segun twisted his upper body to the left allowing the stone to whistle past. By doing so his right arm was thrust forward leaving him
momentarily in a weaker stance. Even as he was falling, Pell saw the opening and swept his right foot around in a crescent kick that caught Segun’s knife hand hard. The blade flew from his
grasp, spinning away down the mountainside until it skittered to a clinking halt amongst the scree some distance away.

Segun hesitated, his head automatically turning to follow the flight of the blade. The brief distraction gave Pell just enough time to leap back to his feet and adopt a fighting stance. Segun
did not look impressed. The older man was taller and heavier, with a longer reach. He adopted his own fighting stance and Pell could see from the easy way Segun set his balance that the man was no
stranger to unarmed combat.

‘What’s the matter, boy?’ Segun taunted. ‘Afraid of an old man?’

‘Not afraid, Segun,’ Pell replied, keeping his focus on the centre of his opponent’s chest. ‘Not of you.’

‘Well, you should be!’

Segun’s attack was fast and powerful. His hands were incredibly quick, but Pell had already identified the man’s weak spot. He was clearly favouring his left leg. Segun was doing a
good job of masking his limp, but it was an obvious target for Pell to focus on and he was quick to exploit it. The older man was attacking purely with his hands. He was quick, but so was Pell.
With a rapid sequence of blocks and deflections, Pell prevented Segun from landing any heavy blows before, dropping underneath an inward knife-hand strike, he swept a low turning kick to
Segun’s right knee.

The kick did not connect hard, but it must have hit the right spot because the older dragonrider folded over the injured knee and lost his balance. Toppling down the slope, he slid some distance
before he came to a stop. Taking care not to trigger a further slide, Pell descended the slope step by cautious step towards the leader of the night dragon enclave. Segun remained face down and
still as Pell approached, but his ruse was transparent. Pell stopped well short, determined not to play into the older man’s trap.

Seeing that Pell was not going to be fooled, Segun struggled to his feet, making a deliberate play of the weakness in his right leg. Again, Pell could see what was happening, so he held back,
keeping his distance and the advantage of higher ground. When Segun did settle his balance, Pell realised his judgement had been better than he realised. There, in Segun’s right hand, was the
deadly knife again. If he had moved in close, Pell had no doubt that he would have felt the sting of the nasty-looking blade.

‘Come on then, boy,’ Segun said, his voice still taunting. ‘Come and try that move again.’

A movement in the sky behind the leader of the night dragons caused Pell to glance up.

‘NO!’ he called out, as he realised what was about to happen. ‘No, Jack! Don’t!’

But it was too late. Wiseheart had broken away from the main fight and glided down on silent wings towards them. A sudden ‘CRACK’ reverberated across the mountainside and a blossom
of red exploded from Segun’s chest. He looked down at the gaping hole and his jaw dropped in a stunned look of amazement that Pell would never forget. With painful slowness, the leader of the
night dragon enclave dropped his knife and lifted his hands to his chest. With his face still set with a look of shock rather than pain, he sank to his knees and then toppled forward –
dead.

Pell looked up at the two figures on the back of the day dragon as it turned away and a flash of hatred raced through him. What right had Jack to take Segun’s life? Pell had determined to
exact revenge after the treatment he had received at Segun’s hands – not to have some otherworlder come along and do it for him. He felt cheated.

Two screeches sounded from amongst the trees below: one of deep loss and the other of triumph. Pell could feel the latter belonged to Shadow. She had overcome Widewing. It was over.

Elian followed as close behind Kira as he could without compromising her silent advance. Within a few moments she had moved inside the entrance to the Oracle’s cave and
beyond the pool of natural light from the mouth. It did not extend far inside, but he could see the orange flicker of torches ahead. Kira did not dawdle. She moved forward at speed, but her
footfalls were so light that they made no noise. It was hard to keep up but he concentrated on moving as quickly and quietly as he could.

Kira slowed as she approached the alcoves of the guardians, but no one stepped out to challenge them. She paused to look inside the recess on the right, but moved swiftly onwards. Elian copied
her quick scan as he passed it, but there was no sign of anything living.

A loud dragon’s roar in the tunnel ahead set Elian’s pulse racing. Kira accelerated, flitting along the last short section of tunnel to where the great ramp zigzagged down to the
chamber floor where the black hole of the Oracle’s well awaited them. She stopped at the entrance to the chamber and dropped to one knee as she surveyed the cavern.

Shrugging her pack from her shoulders, she put down her knives and delved deep into the top of the pack. Elian reached her just as she pulled out the Orb of Vision.

‘Quick!’ she whispered. ‘Fang’s drawn the two remaining night dragons into the back caves. He won’t be able to keep them guessing for long. Drop your pack.
We’ll just carry the orbs and our weapons. Look. The two riders are blocking the way to the Oracle’s well. We’re going to have to get past them and we’re not going to do
that without a fight.’

Elian was surprised to see how dark the chamber was. It was definitely not his imagination this time. The light from the torches on the walls was not as bright as it had been on previous
occasions. He swung his pack from his back and quickly rummaged through it until he found the globe wrapped in cloth. Unwrapping it, he held it carefully in his left hand and recovered his sword
with his right.

‘We won’t get down there without being seen,’ Kira whispered. ‘But I don’t want to give them time to think about what they’re doing. We’re going to do
this, and do it fast. Get close to the Oracle’s well and lob your orb in. OK? Let’s hope the Oracle recovers quickly. We could do with some help if we’re going to get out of here
alive.’

‘I’m ready,’ he replied. ‘Good luck.’

Kira did not hesitate, she was up and running down the ramp almost before Elian had finished speaking. Although she was running silently, the time for stealth was past. Elian sprinted after her.
A shout of alarm sounded from the chamber floor. The night dragonriders had seen them.

Elian caught up with Kira just as they reached the bottom of the ramp. The two riders, both big men, were waiting for them with weapons drawn. Kira tried to dodge to the left, but the rider on
that side was expecting the move. He swung his sword at her in a flat, slicing stroke at waist height. She evaded, twisting her body and chopping down on his blade with her hunting knife. The clang
of metal on metal rang loud, echoing around the chamber.

Elian’s heart felt as if it had climbed through his chest to his throat. These riders meant business. He did not try to dodge around the second rider. Instead, he adopted the fighting
stance that Kira had taught him and edged forwards, poised for the first exchange of blows. A sudden noise on the ramp above and behind him proved a momentary distraction he could not ignore. He
glanced back. The other night dragons were returning! They were already out of the tunnel and in the chamber, racing down the upper ramp.

Although Elian’s distraction had only been momentary, his opponent took full advantage of the opening he had gifted him. Even as Elian’s attention switched back to his opponent an
instant later, he realised his inattention would prove fatal. Everything seemed to slow down. He could not block the man’s lunge. The sword was driving towards his chest with deadly power. He
tried to deflect it, but he was far too slow. The pain exploded as the blade drove between his ribs, straight through his heart and out of his back.

He wanted to cry out, but he could not make a sound. In the distance he heard Kira shout his name, but it sounded as if it were coming from many miles away. A rushing sound of blood roared in
his ears. The look on his killer’s face was of satisfaction as the blade rammed home. The man paused for a moment, looking Elian in the eyes and then he wrenched the blade free again.

Elian fell to his knees. The pain had already gone. Golden fire burned brightly before his eyes and consumed him. It filled his vision. It filled his mind. It filled his body.

‘So this is what it’s like to die!’
he thought.
‘It’s not
so bad.’

But then the golden fire began to disperse. Suddenly, he could see the expression on his killer’s face again. This time it did not appear satisfied. The man looked awestruck and afraid.
There was no pain. In fact, Elian felt perfectly healthy. He climbed back to his feet and raised his blade again. A strange tingling was still racing around his body. The feeling was particularly
intense in the area of his wound and in his left hand, but he felt no pain. He felt perfectly fit and whole.

‘The orb!’ he breathed. Realising the man had heard his words, he decided to amplify them. ‘I hold the Orb of Rebirth. I cannot be killed.’

He stepped forward, clutching the orb in front of him. The man stepped back, terrified. Elian moved forward again, this time swinging his sword in a testing stroke. The man blocked, but his
blade was made of ordinary metal. Elian’s dragonbone blade sliced straight through it, cutting the blade almost precisely in half. That was more than enough for the night dragonrider. He
fled. Elian turned his attention to the man’s companion, who was quick to follow his friend’s lead.

‘Come on, Elian!’ Kira urged. ‘There’s no time to waste!’

The incoming night dragons were coming down the ramp towards them at full speed. Kira sheathed her belt knife and grabbed Elian’s wrist, dragging him towards the Oracle’s well. It
was no more than twenty paces away. Still struggling to recover his composure, Elian stumbled alongside her until they reached the walled abyss.

Without pause, Kira dropped the Orb of Vision into the darkness and turned to face the approaching night dragons.

‘Drop it in! DROP IT IN!’ she cried anxiously.

But Elian could not do it. His fingers were clasped tightly around the orb. He knew this was what the past six weeks of pain and trauma had been all about, but he could not bring himself to let
go of it. The orb had given him life when he should have died. How could he let such a thing go?

‘Drop it, Elian. You must.’

‘Aurora!’

Another challenging roar sounded in the Oracle’s cavern. Kira gasped and Elian looked around, his left hand still outstretched over the wall. More dragons were coming down the ramp. The
three approaching night dragons stopped and turned. Firestorm was at the top of the ramp. Behind her were Aurora and Shimmer. Elian could see Nolita clinging to Firestorm’s back as he charged
towards the surprised night dragons. More dragons were appearing – all day dragons.

‘Let the orb go, Elian,’
Aurora told him again.
‘You cannot keep it.’

‘But it—’

‘I know,’
Aurora said, cutting him short. And he knew from her voice that she understood perfectly.
‘Do it. Now! You must.’

‘Listen to your dragon, Elian!’ Kira urged. ‘Drop it! Quickly!’

A blast of fire roared from Firestorm’s gaping mouth and the three night dragons screeched defiantly. Two more screeches sounded from Elian’s right. The other two night dragons were
returning. Aurora was right. If he was going to restore the Oracle, it had to be now.

He turned and looked longingly at the glowing wonder in his hand. It was beautiful, but the Oracle needed it. Dragonkind needed it. He relaxed his fingers and tipped his hand slowly, allowing
the orb to roll from his fingers. His eyes followed it for a heartbeat . . . two . . . three. Then it was gone.

It was done.

All the strength drained from his legs and Elian sagged against the low wall. He looked around. Firestorm was loosing his fiercest fire in great jets at the night dragons. They had backed away,
but showed no signs of running.

‘Come on, Oracle!’ Kira muttered, looking down into the great well. ‘Where are you? We need you!’

The same question was at the forefront of Elian’s mind.

‘It’s not quite over,’
Aurora said softly, her voice almost apologetic in his mind.
‘There is one last sacrifice required.’

‘Sacrifice?’
Elian asked, confused.
‘What sacrifice?’

‘“Beyond time’s bright arrow, life-saving breath,”’
she quoted.
‘“Love’s life force giving, slays final death The Oracle reiterated the
need in the final verse with: “Gifted for ever: life’s sacrifice.” The Oracle is already dead. It knew it would die before we brought the four orbs. The only way it can be reborn
is for someone to give up his life force. Someone must die.’

‘Die!’ Elian exclaimed aloud. ‘But the dragonet in the egg died. That was the sacrifice, wasn’t it?’

‘No, Elian,’
Aurora said softly.
‘The Oracle chose carefully for this quest. We questors are the ones who have to make the sacrifices. For Nolita it was blood. For
Pell it was to be his dragon’s heart . . .’