Shadow (9 page)

Shadow’s words were warming, but Pell could not totally shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. By the time he reached the solid wooden door set into a small stone archway in
the right-hand wall of the cave, he realised that any second thoughts were irrelevant now. He had come too far to turn back.

The rider opened the door and led the way through. Pell had to stoop under the arch. On the other side was a tunnel, lit by a line of torches that were visible for some distance. The walls were
rough and unfinished, the subterranean corridor hewn into a functional walkway. Thick wooden supports shored up the roof at regular intervals, setting Pell to wondering about the stability of the
caves. The more his mind questioned, the more he imagined the weight of the mountain pressing down above him. If the roof collapsed, he would be squashed flat in a heartbeat. The knowledge made him
feel tiny and fragile, like a bug. It was not a pleasant sensation.

Although Pell could walk upright along the passageway, he had to duck under the support stays to avoid hitting his head on the crossbeams. They passed several doors along the passageway, but his
guide did not so much as glance at them. When they rounded the bend, the end of the corridor became apparent. The door at the far end was no different from the others, save for an image of a black
night dragon, forged from metal and inset into the wood.

The rider rapped hard on the door with his knuckles and then opened it without waiting for a response.

‘What is it, Murvan? I told you we were not to be disturbed.’

The voice was hard as granite, and almost as rough.

‘A rider named Pell wishes an audience, my Lord. Claims he’s here on the Great Quest.’

There was a brief silence, followed by some rapid, excited muttering that Pell could not make out. ‘My Lord?’ he thought. He called Segun ‘my Lord’, but nobility’s
never
been recognised amongst dragonriders! Besides, Segun came from a humble farming family. There’s something strange going on here.

‘Show him in then, Murvan. And prepare quarters and escorts for him as we discussed.’

The voice, now commanding, held no apology. Segun, it appeared, felt himself above the need for politeness. It was also clear that Pell was expected. That was something of a surprise. How had
they known he was coming?

Pell was ushered forwards through the door and into the chamber beyond. The interior was as intimidating as Segun’s voice: hard lines, bleak furnishing and a huge, stylised night dragon
motif, black as the dead of night, adorning each wall.

A large rectangular table dominated the centre of the chamber. Six men sat at the table, but there was no mistaking Segun. There was an undeniable aura of charisma and leadership about him. Even
seated, Pell could tell he was taller than average. His face was clean-shaven, with strong features and a noticeable cleft in his chin. Dark hair, cropped short, showed hints of grey at the
temples, but all of these details were incidental compared to his eyes. Segun possessed pale blue eyes, the like of which Pell had never seen before. Shadowed by heavy black brows, they burned out
of Segun’s head with the icy power of a glacier.

‘Welcome, Pell, rider of . . .’

‘Whispering Shadow,’ Pell provided, deliberately not adding ‘my Lord’, but unsure exactly how to address Segun.

‘Of course,’ Segun replied, his voice suddenly much smoother. ‘From the Steppes of Central Isaa. You met with Shadow around two season rotations ago if memory
serves.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Good. So what can I do for you, Pell? You claim you’re here on the Great Quest.’ Segun stared unblinking at Pell as he waited for a response.

It was unnerving to be the focus of such intense concentration. Pell’s mouth went dry and he ran his tongue around the inside of his lips, searching for moisture as his tongue started to
swell. The other five riders around the table were all watching him with nearly as much fervour as Segun. If he was ever going to join them he knew he had to put in the performance of his life.

‘That’s right,’ Pell replied slowly. ‘I’ve come to ask your help – the help of you all. I need to find the night dragon orb. The Oracle gave us cryptic
instructions. Those referring to the night dragon orb have led me here to you.’

‘“Gave
us
instructions”? Of course, there are always others involved in the Great Quest,’ Segun said thoughtfully, glancing around pointedly at his inner council
of riders. ‘Please, tell us more. We have been aware for some time that the Oracle’s strength is failing. Despite this, it’s been a long time since anyone attempted the Great
Quest. You must be an exceptional group of riders to be given such a huge responsibility. The Oracle clearly thinks very highly of you to place its existence in your hands.’

Pell’s chest swelled with pride at the compliments. All doubts and misgivings about this meeting melted in that instant. He felt the tension drain from his muscles and he began, hesitantly
at first, but then with growing confidence, to tell them about his quest.

First he told what he knew of the other riders, his first impressions of each of their characters and what little he knew of their backgrounds. The encounter with the Oracle he described in
great detail, but then he skimmed through the battle with the dragonhunters and his decision to pursue the night dragon orb alone, rather than risk unnecessary conflict by going with the others to
the day dragon enclave. Day and night dragons had teetered on the brink of open conflict for centuries. Only the influence of the Oracle had prevented what many felt was an inevitable
confrontation. Pell felt confident that his decision would not be interpreted as cowardice but as a sensible precaution to avoid becoming a catalyst for full-scale war. He said nothing about his
fall, but gave a detailed account of the antics of the watch dragons at the Eastern Pass.

Segun and his inner council sat in silence throughout his account, listening most attentively to every word. When he finished, he was gratified to see Segun lean close to those on either side of
him and he watched as they whispered back and forth with serious faces. The importance of his mission was not lost on them.

‘As I said at the beginning, I’m here to ask your aid,’ Pell added after a moment. ‘Can you help me find the night dragon orb?’

Segun turned to face him, clearly irritated at the interruption to his whispered conference, but holding his anger in check. For a moment, Pell felt as strong and powerful as Shadow had told him
he was.

‘Tell me the rhyme again. The one you say relates to the night dragon orb,’ Segun ordered.

‘Very well,’ Pell replied, slightly taken aback by the underlying aggression in Segun’s voice.
‘Release the dark orb – death brings me life. Take brave
ones’ counsel, ’ware ye the knife. Exercise caution, stay pure and heed, Yield unto justice: truth will succeed.’

Segun looked around at the other riders. Each nodded as Segun looked at them.

‘And you’re sure there’s nothing else you can tell me about your quest, or the other riders?’ the night dragon leader asked, his piercing eyes probing Pell’s once
more.

‘I’m sure. I’ve told you everything I know.’

‘Then I must thank you, Pell. You have done the Night Dragon Council a great service by bringing this information to us today. We’ve long held that the Oracle’s power over
dragonkind has become an unnecessary burden. Now you’ve presented us with the perfect opportunity to rid the world of its influence for good. The Oracle’s demise will finally allow
dragons and their riders to assume their natural place in society – at its head.’

‘But . . . I don’t understand,’ Pell spluttered. ‘Without the Oracle dragonkind will die.’

‘No!’ Segun snapped, his pale eyes flashing with uncontrolled anger now. ‘That’s what the Oracle would have us believe. Why that meddling spirit has denied us our
rightful place in society has been a mystery for centuries. The Oracle has had the dragons under its spell for too long. They are blinded by their loyalty to it. The truth is, dragon-kind will
expand and flourish without the Oracle. Dragonkind will rise to dominate the world. No more dragon hunts. No more disrespect. None will dare stand against us. You must end your quest for the orb.
The Great Quest must not be completed, or dragonkind will be tied to further millennia of servitude.’

Segun’s anger and intensity was intimidating, but despite the aura of power he emanated, Pell felt the fire of anger responding in his own belly. Of all the night dragon riders who could
have been chosen for the Great Quest, the Oracle had found him worthy. Not Segun, nor any of his cronies, but Pell, rider of Whispering Shadow. It was his moment of glory and he was not about to
give it up without a fight.

‘But what if you’re wrong?’ Pell asked through gritted teeth. ‘What then?’

One of Segun’s lieutenants sucked a sharp intake of breath between his teeth and Segun’s eyes widened with surprise before narrowing into thin slits that spat fury. There was a
scrape of wood on stone as some of the men began to get to their feet, and a flash of steel sent Pell’s mind reeling.
’Ware ye the knife . . . ’ware ye the knife
. . .
The words of the Oracle’s verse echoed. As his eyes flicked to the knife that had appeared in the man’s hand, he flinched.

Segun’s hand signal to his men commanded an instant response. The knife vanished back into its sheath and the men sank back to their seats. Pell’s heart was racing as he carefully
let out the deep breath he had instinctively drawn. Rather than shrink away from Segun’s potential wrath, Pell drew himself to his full height and looked him straight in the eye.

‘I am not wrong,’ Segun said softly, his voice beginning as barely more than a whisper, but rising rapidly. ‘Who do you think you are, Pell? You are nobody. Nobody! And you
will remain nobody unless I decide to make you somebody. The Oracle has outlived its time. It must be allowed to die. Will you defy my will?’

‘It seems that somebody must,’ Pell answered, setting his chin forwards at a defiant angle. ‘I was chosen. It’s my destiny to find the orb. I can feel it. Though it
saddens me to admit it, my companions were right – you cannot be the “brave ones” I seek. I shall direct my efforts elsewhere.’

He turned to leave.

‘Murvan!’ Segun’s command was loud and gained an instant response. The door flung open and six burly men marched in to block Pell’s exit. He turned back to face Segun,
who was now the only person still seated. His lieutenants were already in motion around the table. Pell was surrounded.

He knew better than to try to fight his way out. He was big for his age, but still tender from his fall and there were a dozen fully-grown men here.

‘So what are you going to do now, Segun?’ Pell snapped. ‘Have me killed and my dragon will go berserk. You don’t want to see what she’s capable of when she’s
angry.’

Segun smiled, but there was more cruelty than mirth in the expression. ‘I have no need to kill you, Pell,’ he said. ‘You’re not worthy of the attention that death would
bring you. Don’t worry. You’ll be released soon enough. Right after we destroy the night orb. Maybe then you’ll see sense and take your place amongst our ranks as we ride to forge
a new order across Areth. Take him to a holding cell, Murvan.’

‘Yes, my Lord.’

‘You won’t get away with this, Segun,’ Pell warned.

‘That’s
Lord
Segun to you, boy. And believe me when I say that I will get away with whatever I wish. The Age of Dragons is coming, and I will be its architect.’

Chapter Eight

As Nolita took the orb from the saddlebag, the light level in the chamber brightened slightly. The orb felt almost greasy in her hands and she shuddered at the sensation. All
attention was on the great chasm. A sigh like the breath of a dragon preceded the arrival of the Oracle. The misty being surged from the depths in a swirl of smoke-like vapour that twisted and
twirled in a mesmerising pattern before resolving into the great dragon’s head-shape they had seen during their last encounter.

‘Ah! The Orb of Blood!’
The Oracle’s voice rang in the minds of the riders like a giant bell.
‘I knew ye would not fail me, Nolita. Well done. Well done
indeed! Come. Cast it into my well.’

Nolita stepped forwards with the crystal globe cradled in her hands. Although she knew it was irrational, especially as she disliked handling it, she felt suddenly reluctant to part with it.
Thoughts of what she had endured to gain it flashed through her mind: the terrors of the Chamber of the Sun’s Steps, the horror as the orb sucked the blood from her fingers, and the dangers
posed by the giant snake and the ravening pack of dogs. The orb was a liability, but despite this it felt strangely precious. It represented an achievement greater than anything she had ever
dreamed possible – the conquering of her deepest fears. A moment ago she would have been glad to hurl it into the black depths of the great pit, but now . . .

It took all her resolve, but Nolita stepped slowly forwards to the edge of the well. The figure of the Oracle towered above her.