Shadow Spell (28 page)

Hilary turned back to Nin. The girl's face was deathly pale and wet with tears, and around her arm the spell had gone dark, almost black. Her eyes, full of shadows, were fixed on the skinkin.

‘Don't look at it,' Hilary said softly, taking Nin in her arms, ‘don't listen to it. You are lucky, remember, you can't die!'

Nin knew it was a lie. Everything was clear to her now. The Dark Thing was right and she alone was responsible for all the pain and the death. Ninevah Redstone, who skipped through danger while those about her bled and burned. The townsfolk of Hilfian were being devoured by vampires and ripped apart by bogeymen. The Seven would soon be gone and so would the Land. Jik was dead. Jonas was dead. Strood had won and she would die alone and terrified in this
horrible world and never see her mother or her brother again. And when she was gone, her mother wouldn't even mourn her. All the past they shared, all the good times and the bad, would be gone forever when the memory pearl died with her. There would be nothing.

And it was best that way.

‘Come on, dear,' said Hilary, hugging Nin to her. She kissed the girl's forehead. ‘You must fight.'

Nin turned her eyes to Hilary's face. They were sunk so deep in their sockets that only a gleam showed. Hilary could feel Nin's heart beating, but each heavy pound was too far apart, and the gaps were getting wider. Panic gripped her.

‘Nin!'

In front of them, the crouching skinkin seemed bigger than before. Its hunched back looked more menacing, the claws on its bone-paws were longer and sharper.

Nin drew in a breath, then let it out. And there was one last thump that shook her like a leaf before her heart stopped beating and Ninevah Redstone died.

Swimming through the earth in his search for Azork, Jik burrowed out of the ground on the outskirts of Hilfian. He paused, taking in the scene.

Everywhere he looked he could see chunks of mud hut. The chunks were scattered untidily about as if the huts had been hit by a bomb – or maybe torn apart by something very strong and enthusiastic. Further on, past the remains of mud hut and beyond the edge of town, he could make out the battlefields where the tombfolk had finished off the tiger-men and were moving on, looking for the townsfolk.

He was about to head towards them when a screaming Quick hurtled past, pursued by Polpp in Hooked Handed Horror form, waving the hook screwed into the stump of one arm and screeching with crazy laughter. Darkness came off the bogeyman in waves, leaving a streak of extra dense night in his wake. Also in his wake went Skerridge, an expression of desperate determination on his face.

Jik stared after them. He guessed Skerridge was trying to help the Quick, but it looked like he was having a hard time of it. With a shrug, Jik turned his attention to the tombfolk. By now, they had made it to the edge of town where they had run into trouble with one of the bogeymen. The tombfolk Queen was glaring angrily at Rainbow, who was standing in her path, grinning at her. Spirals of golden light surrounded her, she was so full of life.

‘'Stand aside, bogeyman,' she hissed. ‘On the ground, we are indestructible. Do you know what that means?'

Rainbow snickered, gathering the dark around him like a mantle.

‘Means yer'll still be alive after I pulls yer ‘ead off!' he said, flexing his fingers.

With a shake of his head, Jik left them to it and moved on again. Azork was not with the hive and it was Azork he wanted. He found the once-sorcerer on the edge of the battlefield, surrounded by spreading crowsmorte. By now the bobbing purple heads with their blood-red centres were so thick that he could see no ground between them.

Jik ikked as he stumbled on a gargoyle-shaped stone, buried in the crowsmorte. It was mumbling to itself, so he dug it free.

‘Thank yoo,' it said, shaking the dirt out of its ears.

It wandered off over the field, stopping every so often to shudder before it moved on. Jik watched it for a moment, then turned to Azork, who was studying him thoughtfully.

‘I'm still dying,' the once-sorcerer told him. ‘I remember a time when I loved and even the memory is enough to tear my Armour of Dread apart. My spell is broken and without it to help me endure I will soon be … nothing.'

Although all the life he had consumed hung around Azork in a bright halo, Jik could see in his eyes that it was true.

‘They know it, too.' Azork glanced in the direction of the other tombfolk. ‘I am no longer their king.'

Following his look, Jik saw a silver column spiralling up, higher and higher against the night and the smoke. The Queen was leaving, taking her hive back into the skies. Rainbow had won that little showdown.

‘Hikik nik yik,' he said simply, turning back to Azork.

Azork shuddered at Hilary's name. ‘Why should I care if she needs me or not?' he hissed.

He turned his back on the town, but Jik somersaulted over his head, landing to stand in his way. Tombfolk and mudman exchanged a long look.

Jik's meant: You are going to die, so why not die well? Why not spend the last of your life helping Hilary Jones save Nin and save the Drift?

And Azork's meant: I care nothing for the Drift. If I can't enjoy its beauty, why should anyone else? I was the Daemon of the Night, King of the tombfolk, and now I'm nothing, a once-sorcerer with no power and no future. And all because of one wretched Quick. So why, in Galig's name, should I help
her
?

Jik shrugged, then turned and walked away. He went slowly to give Azork time to think about it. He just hoped they wouldn't be too late.

Behind him, Azork hissed angrily. But he followed Jik to the town hall anyway. Only, he wasn't going to help.

Hilary had reminded him of his past love for Senta and that was destroying the spell that kept him alive. So if he was going to die, then he would have one last act of revenge before the end. He would kill Hilary Jones. And maybe killing the Quick who had broken his spell would reverse the damage she had done and save him. It was his one last chance to survive and he was going to take it.

On the town hall roof, Hilary had given herself up to tears. The skinkin was still there too, watching them, waiting. Hilary guessed that it hadn't quite done its job yet. It had been created to kill the
legendary
Ninevah Redstone and that legend would only die when Hilary Jones stumbled out into the world to tell it what had happened. Then the news of Nin's death would spread like wildfire, burning up everyone's hopes of saving the Drift, making her just another kid who would be forgotten in days. And when that happened the skinkin would finally be free.

‘Is it too late, then?' asked a familiar voice.

Startled, Hilary looked up to see Azork hovering in the air before her.

‘Everything's over,' she said. ‘All these amazing people, this beautiful Land. Just as I've found them all everything's going to die.' She half-smiled, rubbing her arm across her face to blot some of the tears. ‘That's a little selfish, isn't it?'

Azork drifted down, his feet touching the roof, making him solid again. Outlined against the fire-lit sky he looked cut from night, all stars and darkness.

‘But then,' sighed Hilary, ‘sorcerers are a selfish breed.' She looked down at Nin's body and stroked her hair sadly, then touched the spell with her fingertip. It glowed softly in reply, but stayed dark, as if in mourning too.

Azork's star-filled eyes glittered as he stepped forward, preparing to kill. He would tear the woman apart, he thought, and drink her blood straight from her body. He reached out.

‘I'm glad you came,' Hilary was saying, ‘even if it is too late.'

She looked up at him again, stained with the blood of many injured, messy and exhausted with her hair dull and matted and her white face smeared. Her eyes were still brimming with tears.

‘I'm sorry I hurt you,' she sighed, ‘even if you are Dread.'

There was a sound like tearing silk. Azork shuddered as threads of light appeared, running over his skin like spider webs. The stars in his eyes went out.

Hilary's eyes met his. The night went on around
them, but something had changed.

‘I was going to kill you, but I can't,' he said. ‘Because of you I remember what it is to love, and although I swore I would never feel that again, seeing you now …' Azork smiled ruefully out of eyes that were now only silver. ‘My stupid heart just let me down. I've fallen in love all over again.'

Underneath all the tears, Hilary blushed. She didn't know what to say.

Azork struggled for a moment, a tangle of emotions running across his face. Some of them were old, bitter ones and some of them were new. He had loved Senta and she had hurt him. But now he had fallen in love with Hilary, and he would never know if she could have loved him back. There was not enough time. But maybe there was one thing he could do. He reached a decision and stepped forward. Then he leaned towards Nin, stooping low over her.

‘My spell is gone,' he said. ‘I'm dying anyway. But I'll give my last strength to help the girl if it will make you happy. I'll give her my life.'

He breathed out and life poured from him in a flood, bathing Nin in light. Hilary gasped. She could see it, soaking into the girl's skin, running into her mouth and up her nose and even squeezing under her eyelids. She felt Nin's heart stutter into a beat. And then another.

She was only half aware that around them the night grew colder for a moment and a tremor ran through the Land.

Azork felt it and smiled grimly. Every act had its backlash, and the bigger the act the bigger the repercussions. He had brought someone back from the dead and the price would be enormous. And he didn't just mean the cost to him, the loss of his last precious hours of life. It was more than that. For an act this huge there would be terrible consequences. He turned his head to search the shadows. Something was there, watching.

Nin stirred and moaned, then settled again, her eyelids flickering. She didn't wake up, but now it was sleep, not death.

‘Her body is still damaged,' Azork said, ‘her heart has been weakened and her brain clouded with the strain of fear and despair. But she's alive. The rest is up to you and your friends.'

He stepped back. With all his life shed, he looked thin, insubstantial. The cracks of light on his skin had gone and now he was as he once had been. Slender, darkskinned and silver-eyed. Hilary could see right through him; as she watched, he was becoming a ghost.

‘You're fading,' she said.

Azork smiled at her. ‘Just remember, I didn't do this for Ninevah Redstone, or for the Land. I did it for you.'

‘Thank you,' breathed Hilary, her eyes fixed on his, two points of soft light in the darkness. A breath of wind stirred her hair and rustled the few leaves growing from the wall. Then it tore the last traces of Azork apart like mist and he was gone.

‘Thank you,' said Hilary again, to the empty sky.

Hilary had forgotten the skinkin. Even as Jik appeared in the doorway, his flame eyes peering anxiously at Nin, a movement to their left got their attention.

The creature leapt out of the darkness. It was bigger, the size of a large cat or a small fox, and skin over bone, with long ears, yellowed claws and legs built to run and leap. Its eyes were holes overflowing with shadows that hung around it and it carried a smell of mould and decay.

Hilary held Nin tight against her, paralysed with fear. Jik sprang to their side.

Skinkin watched the three living beings with cold anger. It had been cheated. Ninevah Redstone had survived even Death and now her legend was safe for as long as there were Quick to tell the story.

‘Wik hikik!'

Hilary tipped her head, listening to Senta's spell.

‘Strood made it to end Nin, but it's failed,' she said slowly, ‘and now it's … Well, it can't die as it should, because now it has a task it can't complete. So this is the price we've paid to have Nin alive again. The skinkin has become a new Fabulous.'