Blue Moon Rising (Darkwood) (67 page)

“Yes?”

“Next time, try and wake me before things get this desperate.”

Rupert was still searching for a suitably venemous reply when the dragon surged suddenly to his feet. Rupert grabbed quickly for the dragon’s neck as the huge membranous wings beat strongly to either side of him, and then, with a stomach-wrenching jolt, the dragon threw himself into the air. The courtyard fell slowly away beneath him, just as the demons finally came swarming over the Castle walls. Rupert watched in horror as they quickly fought their way past the defender on the battlements, and spilled down into the courtyard. The High Warlock stood alone, balefire blazing from his hands, as the demons came at him from every side. The main gates burst open, the thick oaken doors splintering like kindling, and the courtyard was suddenly full of leaping, clawing demons.

And then the Castle fell away behind the dragon, and was lost in the darkness. Below him lay nothing but the Darkwood, gleaming eerily under the light of the full Blue Moon.

*      *      *

“It’s all over,” said Rupert dully. “The demons have won.”

“We’ve got to turn back!” said Julia. “Dragon …”

“No,” said the King. “We go on. There’s nothing else we can do.”

The dragon flew on into the darkness, and for a long time nobody said anything. Bitterly cold air rushed past them, cutting fiercely at their bare hands and faces. Rupert felt Julia huddle in close behind him, and he tried to shield her body from the wind with his own. The night sky was empty of stars, but the Blue Moon filled the darkness with an ancient power. The Wild Magic roared upon the night like a giant heartbeat, strange and whimsical and utterly inhuman. Far below him, Rupert could sense things waking and moving that had no place in the time of Man. The world itself seemed to be changing subtly as the dragon carried his passengers deeper into the night. More and more, Rupert had the feeling that it was they who were out of place; that the world had moved on, and he and his kind no longer belonged.

The power of the full Blue Moon; to reshape reality itself.

Rupert shook his head quickly to clear it. So far, nothing had been done to the Land itself that could not be undone by the Demon Prince’s death. At least, that was what he’d been told. Rupert frowned. He was no longer sure he believed much of what he was told.

“How are you managing, dragon?” Rupert asked, as much for the comfort of hearing his own voice as anything else.

“I feel fine,” said the dragon, his wings moving easily in a strong steady rhythm. “I feel … young again. My bones no longer ache, my wind is sound, and I can see forever. I’d forgotten how good it felt to be young. It’s the Wild Magic, Rupert; I can feel it, singing in my blood. The Wild Magic, loose in the world again, just as it was in my younger days. The days before the coming of Man.”

“Was that a better time for you?” asked Rupert slowly.

“Better?” The dragon fell silent for a while, and his great brow furrowed as he flew steadily on into the night. “It was … different.”

The Darkwood stretched away beneath them, an endless tangled mass of interlocking branches. Gnarled and twisted boughs curled together in an intricate embrace of rotting wood. Savage thorns thrust up through the Darkwood roof, some dappled with recent bloodstains. Shimmering blue moonlight glistened on the decaying branches, and the sweet stench of corruption was everywhere.

“This may well be a stupid question,” said Julia, “But how are we supposed to find the Demon Prince through all that? It’ll take us hours to cut our way through, with no guarantee we’re even in the right place.”

“I’ll find the Demon Prince,” said the Astrologer grimly. “My magic will lead us right to him.”

“And what are we going to do when we find him?” asked Julia.

“Destroy him,” said the King. “The Land cries out for vengeance.”

“Sure,” said Julia. “Destroy him. Just like that. You haven’t the faintest idea of how to go about it, have you?”

“We’ll do what we can,” said Rupert. “We’ll try cold steel first. If that doesn’t work, we’ll try magic. If that doesn’t work, the dragon can breathe fire on him.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then we’re in big trouble.”

“Great,” said Julia. “Just great.”

The endless canopy of interwoven branches flowed steadily away beneath them like a solid unmoving ocean. The oppressive horror of the long night was a little easier to bear above the Darkwood itself, but still the darkness pressed in around the dragon. It weighed heavily on his wings, and grew stronger the farther he flew into the night, almost as though it was trying to force him back. Rupert could feel a pressure mounting against them as they flew on, and the dragon had to labor harder and harder to maintain his pace. The beating of his wings took on a more urgent rhythm, and his breathing became harsh and strained. There were voices in the darkness, muttering and laughing and screaming, and more than once Rupert felt a soft, unsettling touch on his hands or face. He didn’t know whether the others could feel anything, and didn’t ask. He didn’t want to know. He kept wanting to let go of the dragon’s neck and strike out at the darkness around him, to make whatever it was keep their distance, but he didn’t. He couldn’t afford to lose control now, not even for a moment.
Easy, lad, easy,
he thought determinedly.
They*re just trying to spook you, that’s all. Don’t let them know how well they’re succeeding.

“Down there,” said the Astrologer suddenly, pointing out and to his left. “There’s a kind of clearing, covered over. That’s where we’ll find the Demon Prince.”

“Are you sure?” asked the King.

“Oh yes, John,” said the Astrologer. “I’m sure.”

The dragon looked quickly back to see where the Astrologer was pointing, and then turned and glided down toward the roof of the Darkwood. The huge thorns rose up to meet him. At the last moment the dragon spread his jaws wide, and bright, roaring flames spilled out onto the thorns and branches, eating through them like acid. The flames couldn’t seem to take a lasting hold on the dead wood, but they quickly opened up a hole in the canopy large enough for the dragon to fall through, his wings pressed tight against his sides. The moonlight was suddenly gone, and the dragon plummeted into darkness. He stretched his wings wide to slow his fall, and then he slammed into the ground, almost spilling his passengers from his back. For a long moment, nobody moved. All around them there was nothing but the night, still and silent and deadly.

“Did anyone think to bring a lantern?” whispered Julia.

The dragon coughed politely, and a brief gush of fire fell from his mouth. It caught hold on one small patch of lichens and oily mosses that covered the floor, and the clearing was suddenly filled with a leaping, wavering light. Rupert swung down from the dragon’s back, carefully avoiding the fire. It seemed to be burning well and steadily, but showed no signs of spreading. Rupert nodded slowly, satisfied for the moment, and drawing his sword he moved quietly away from the dragon while the others were dismounting.

The clearing wasn’t very large, no more than forty feet in diameter, with half a dozen pathways leading off. In the exact center of the clearing stood a single rotting tree stump, roughly fashioned into the shape of a throne. Fresh bloodstains spotted the decaying wood. Rupert glanced up at the break in the canopy overhead, but there was no trace of the Blue Moon or its light, only a darkness that went on forever. Julia came over to stand beside Rupert, her sword in her hand. They shared a quick smile, and then Julia went back to searching the surrounding darkness for signs of movement. The King and the Astrologer stood together beside the rotting throne.

“Is that fire wise?” asked the King quietly. “Surely the light will tell the demons we’re here?”

The Astrologer smiled coldly. “They’ll know we’re here soon enough, John.”

“This place is disgusting,” said Julia, stepping gingerly over a pile of blood-spattered bones, some still with shreds of meat clinging to them. The mossy floor squelched blood as she trod on it.

“All right, sir Astrologer,” said Rupert finally. “You led us here. Where’s the Demon Prince?”

“You want him?” said the Astrologer. “Then I’ll call him. Master! They’re here! I’ve brought them to you!”

Rupert and Julia stared at him in horror, and then leapt forward, sword in hand, but before they could reach the Astrologer, a massive weight slammed them to the ground and pinned them there. Rupert struggled fiercely against the unseen force holding him, but it was all he could do to lift his face out of the blood-soaked moss on the floor. His sword was gone from his hand, and he couldn’t even turn his head to see where it had fallen. He could just make out the King lying helpless on the ground nearby, while beyond him the dragon lay heaving and writhing at the edge of the clearing, unable to rise. The Astrologer laughed quietly. Inch by inch, Rupert raised his head to look at him. Thomas Grey was lounging at his ease on the rotting throne, and in his hands was a glowing sword with a dull black jewel set in its crosspiece.

“What’s happening?” groaned Julia. “Why can’t I move?”

“It’s his sword,” said the King painfully. “It’s the Curtana. He must have had it all along.”

“Of course,” said the Astrologer. “I had to be sure you were in a fit state to greet my master.”

“Welcome,” said a soft, sibilant voice from out of the shadows. “Welcome, my dear friends. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Rupert fought to keep his head up as he watched a tall spindly figure slowly form itself out of the darkness at the edge of the clearing. It gradually took on depth and weight and reality, like a nightmare creating itself in flesh and bone. The Demon Prince stood fully eight feet tall, his body emaciated to the point of starvation. His lambent dead-white skin was wrapped in black rags and tatters, and two crimson eyes burned unblinkingly from under the wide brim of his large, battered hat. What little could be seen of the Demon Prince’s face gave the impression of being blurred and unfinished. He smiled slowly at his enemies lying helpless on the clearing floor, his wide slash of a mouth full of pointed teeth, and then he moved forward with the sudden darting grace of a spider, and snatched Rockbreaker from its scabbard on the King’s back. The sword seemed almost to shudder in the long, skeletal hand.

“An interesting toy,” said the Demon Prince. “There was a time when it might even have been of some use against me.”

He broke the sword across his knee in one swift movement, and threw the pieces aside. Far away, Rupert thought he heard something scream in agony, and then fell silent. The Demon Prince turned to the Astrologer, and reached out an imperious hand. Thomas Grey leapt immediately to his feet and hurried over to present his master with the Curtana. The Dark Prince hefted the sword in his hand, and the glowing steel blade burst into searing flames. Within the space of a few seconds, nothing remained of the Sword of Compulsion but a pool of molten metal steaming on the ground, with a few dull jewels floating in it. Rupert quickly tested the compulsion that held him. It seemed a little weaker, but its hold still lingered on under the influence of the Wild Magic.

“You have done well, my slave,” said the Demon Prince to the bowing Astrologer. “All my enemies are now gathered in one place, and the only remaining swords that might have harmed me are now destroyed.”

He broke off suddenly, and darted over to where Julia was reaching out her hand to retrieve the sword she’d dropped. She’d just wrapped her fingers round the swordhilt when the Demon Prince brought his heel down hard. The sound of her bones breaking was eerily loud on the silence. The Demon Prince ground Julia’s crushed fingers under his heel, but she wouldn’t cry out. He chuckled quietly, enjoying the agony in her face, and then he lifted his foot away and turned back to the Astrologer. Even in the dim light, Rupert could see that Julia’s hand was now nothing more than a mess of blood and splintered bones. She tried to lift her sword anyway, and it fell from her crippled hand. The Demon Prince didn’t even look round. He seated himself elegantly on his throne of decaying wood, with the Astrologer at his right hand, and looked coldly upon his fallen enemies.

“Well?” said the Demon Prince, his quiet voice subtly grating on the ear. “Have you nothing to say to me? After all, you’ve waited so long to meet me … what about you, dragon? We’re two of a kind, you and I. We can still remember when the world was young, and we were powers on the earth. Things have changed since then, since Man came into the world. You’ve grown old, dragon; old and weak. Magic was going out of the world, and you were going with it. But now the Blue Moon is full, and the Wild Magic has returned. Forget the humans, serve me; and watched the dragonkind grow strong again.”

The dragon slowly lifted his great head, fighting grimly against the geas that held him prisoner.

“Answer me,” said the Demon Prince.

“Rot in hell,” said the dragon. “Julia and Rupert are my friends, and I’ll not betray them to a Prince of decaying trees.”

Fire roared from his mouth, only to fall harmlessly to the ground, unable to reach the Demon Prince. The flames sputtered on the oily moss, and went out.

“Foolish animal,” said the Demon Prince. “Go to sleep.”

The dragon’s eyes closed, and his head fell heavily to the ground. The Demon Prince moved over to stand before him, and kicked him in the face. Golden blood trickled down the dragon’s muzzle. The Demon Prince kicked him again.

Rupert slowly pulled one leg up under him, fighting the geas every inch of the way. He could see his sword, lying on the ground between him and the King, but it was well out of reach. One good jump would be enough to get him to it, but as yet the compulsion was still too strong. Rupert slowly brought his other leg into position, and waited with a cold and patient fury for the geas to die away.

“You planned this all along, Thomas,” said King John dully. The light had gone out of his eyes, and his face was an empty mask, wiped clean by pain and shock. “You poisoned your fellow sorcerers.”

The Astrologer chuckled happily.