Shadow (14 page)

‘Relax, Kira,’
Fang told her softly.
‘I’ve heard that you humans sometimes suffer this illusion. Riders call it “the leans”. It is quite common.
My wings are level. Close your eyes for a moment. Tell yourself we are flying level and then open your eyes again. The feeling will pass in a moment. That’s what you get for having a body
that’s designed to work on the ground.’

Fang’s voice sounded mildly amused, but Kira found it anything but funny. If she could have chosen a time to discover a strange side-effect of flying, this would not have been it. A
trumpeting roar sounded from somewhere in the darkness to her right.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said quietly over her shoulder to Nolita, whose grip around her waist had tightened at the sound. ‘That’s Shadow creating a diversion for
us.’

Shadow’s roar demanded attention, and it seemed to be getting plenty. The air was suddenly full of night dragons, seeking to find out what all the fuss was about. The three riders crouched
low on Fang’s back as he weaved a silent path between them. When the air cleared of activity, Fang powered upwards.

The black cliff-wall that housed the enclave was dotted with the flickering glow of torches that shone from many of the open caves, but Fang climbed way above the inhabited openings. The
darkness swelled ahead of them as they approached the face of the mountain. For a moment Kira thought they would crash headlong into the rock, but then she saw it. Ahead of them was an impossibly
black maw, even darker than the deepest shadow of the cliff. She flinched and a shudder rippled down her spine as they passed between the great jaws of the rockface and it swallowed them with its
dark silence.

They landed and Fang turned to face the exit before stopping to let them dismount. The three riders slid cautiously down his side, doing their best to make no sound as they landed. No sooner
were they all down than Fang was on the move again, launching from the ledge and out into the night sky. They heard his great talons clicking across the stone floor of the cave and the slight
whoosh as he launched, though there was no hint of a visual clue to mark his passage.

‘All right, we’re in,’ Kira whispered. ‘Let’s see what we’re up against. We need to find a door out of here. There must be one somewhere towards the back of
the cave. I’ll take the left. Elian, take the right. Nolita, walk up the middle to the back wall and then turn whichever way you prefer.’

Step by careful step, they felt their way around the walls. It was Elian who came across the door. As soon as he felt the change of texture from stone to wood, he knew he had found it. Running
his fingers back and forth it took but a moment more to find the handle. He felt around for a keyhole, but could not locate one.

‘Hsst!’ he hissed, quietly drawing the attention of the others. They joined him quickly and Kira patted him silently on the shoulder.

Elian stepped aside and allowed Kira to open the door. He was tempted to draw his sword, but he had enough sense to realise the desire was born from nervousness. He was more likely to injure one
of his friends in the dark than to do anything useful with it, so he clenched his fists and concentrated on listening out for any sign of movement.

Kira turned the handle of the door and eased it open with infinite care. There was the slightest of creaks as she teased it open a crack, causing the three riders to wince in unison. A wedge of
dim light spilled out through the gap, but there was no sound of movement on the other side. No one had noticed them yet. Heart thumping, Kira drew the door open further and peered inside.

A single burning torch lit the room beyond the door. It appeared to be a general living area, with comfortable chairs, a low table and several sets of shelves loaded with books around the walls.
As far as Kira could see there were two other doors leading on from it, one in the wall ahead of her and another to her left. Aside from the lit torch there was no sign of life.

Kira stepped inside and the others followed. She instinctively turned towards the door to the left. If I was trying to keep a dragon and her rider apart, I would lock the rider as far out of
reach as possible, she reasoned silently. This door would lead them deeper into the mountainside. As she reached for the handle, she paused and turned to face Elian and Nolita.

‘Take off your face masks,’ she ordered softly, beginning to unwind the material from her own face.

‘But what if we meet someone?’ Elian asked.

‘We’re going to bluff,’ she whispered back. ‘We’ll need to speak to someone if we’re going to get to Pell. We don’t know where we’re going, or how
big this complex is. You saw how many caves there were in this cliff. There could be miles of passageways and hundreds of people. There’s no way anyone here could hope to know everyone else.
From now on we’re night dragon riders sent by Segun to speak with Pell. Leave the talking to me. Don’t say anything unless you have to. Just follow my lead.’

‘All right, Kira,’ Elian said with a slight shrug. ‘It’s your show.’ He sounded unconvinced, but began removing the coverings from his face anyway. Nolita did the
same.

They tucked the strips of cloth inside their jackets and once they were ready, Kira took a deep breath, gripped the handle and opened it with one swift movement.

Chapter Twelve

The sound of the key in the lock of the cell door brought Pell to his feet. The muscles in his legs bunched automatically in readiness as he felt the insane red heat of rage
explode inside his gut. The door opened and the bright orange light of the guards’ torches flooded the tiny cell.

Pell did not hesitate. Without pausing to see how many guards there were, or if they were armed, he put his head down and charged like an enraged bull. It was an act of unthinking madness that
under different circumstances might have been effective. Unfortunately for Pell, the guards were particularly wary of new prisoners, so they were both alert and quick to respond.

The lead guard dodged Pell’s charge with ease and stuck his foot out to trip him as he passed. A second guard reacted faster still, clubbing him hard across his back with a cudgel as he
tripped. Pell went down hard, rolling across the stone passageway and smashing into the opposite wall.

After nearly a full day in total darkness, his eyes could not cope with the sudden flare of light, so he never saw what hit him. Pain from the cudgel blow across his back was followed by more
from his impact with the wall and a pummelling sequence of vicious kicks to his body from the guards. Pell curled into a ball, protecting his head as best he could with his forearms.

‘Shadow! Help me!’
he thought, pain lending power to his mental cry. No response. ‘Gods, please!’ he moaned aloud.

‘Enough!’ a deep voice ordered. ‘Put him back inside.’

The kicking stopped and Pell gasped as hands dragged him roughly to his feet. He squinted, his eyes watering as he tried to focus. Blurry figures surrounded him, but he could not even count them
before being flung back into the cramped cell. His lungs heaved erratically. He had taken a kick to the solar plexus that had temporarily robbed him of his breath.

‘No more foolishness, Pell,’ the deep voice continued. ‘Our orders are to contain you, not hurt you. Now be a good lad. Eat your food and don’t try anything stupid like
that again. If you do, I won’t be so quick to stop my men hurting you.’

Pell heard scrapes as a tray of food was placed on the floor inside the door of his cell. A moment later the door closed and he was plunged back into darkness, with only the faintest of glows
visible under the base of the door.

He groaned as a cloud of despair engulfed him as completely as the darkness. His spontaneous break for freedom had been a disaster. The guards would be doubly careful from now on, making an
escape less likely than ever.

Regaining control over his breathing was not easy, and the combination of pain, disappointment and frustration threatened to spark another involuntary response. His diaphragm fluttered as he
fought to keep from vomiting. The smell of the food wafting across the cell made the feeling worse, and he swallowed several times in quick succession to clear the taste of sick from the back of
his mouth. By sheer force of will, Pell maintained a fragile, but growing edge of control over his stomach. For several minutes, he stayed totally still, concentrating with fierce focus on making
each breath slow and steady.

As his control over his body became more secure, anger built inside again like a raging fire. His mind raced as he imagined taking his revenge. I’ll get my own back, he thought. Once
I’m reunited with Shadow nothing on Areth will stop me.

Gradually the pain of his wounds dulled to a general throbbing. There were hot spots where some kicks had landed harder than others, but he used these as focus points for his anger as he began
to move. Slowly, limb by limb, he uncurled his body and eased across the short distance to the tray of food. He did not feel like eating, but needed to drink. He had been dehydrated before his
beating, but knew that more fluid would now flood the regions around his wounds. This would dehydrate him further.

Feeling ahead, Pell located first the tray, and then the beaker. Taking care not to spill the fluid it contained, he lifted it to his lips and sipped. His instinct was to gulp it down in one
long draft, but again he exercised self-discipline and drank slowly, sipping the water and rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing.

Some time later, when he was sure he had finished the last drop, Pell carefully eased his body into a sitting position and leaned back against the side of his tiny cot bed. He felt dreadful. It
was not just the physical pain, though that was bad. It was deeper than that – like a fist clamped around his heart and a cold lump of ice buried deep within his gut. His mind felt slow and
helpless. It was almost as bad as the feelings he had experienced when he had fallen from Shadow’s back. Then it dawned on him. He was afraid.

Kira strode through the door and into the passageway beyond as if she owned the night dragon enclave. Elian and Nolita followed in her wake, neither feeling nor looking
anywhere near as confident as their companion. The passageway was empty, but they had taken no more than a dozen paces before a man emerged from a side door ahead of them. He saw them, but Kira did
not react as he tensed, his eyes narrowing with suspicion under his dark brows.

‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘And what are you doing here? This area belongs to Lord Segun and his council of senior riders.’

The man looked as if he had seen about thirty season rotations. He stood tall and straight, but he had a weak chin that took away any air of authority he might have otherwise commanded.

‘I’m here on Lord Segun’s orders, but who are you?’ Kira retaliated, her voice every bit as challenging as the stranger’s. ‘You don’t look like a rider
to me, so what are you doing here?’

‘I am Murvan,’ he replied snootily. ‘I’m not in riding gear because I live here. I’m both a senior rider and Lord Segun’s personal assistant. You, however,
I’ve never seen before.’

‘Then you’re just the person we’re here to see,’ Kira said, the challenge gone from her voice and replaced with a tone of purring sweetness. She held up her hand in the
traditional gesture of greeting. ‘My name is Ebony, rider of Sharpcry. My companions and I have not been riders long, so we were honoured when Lord Segun, together with five other senior
riders, waved us down just beyond the Western Pass this afternoon. He sent us to fetch the prisoner, Pell.’

‘Fetch him? Why?’ Murvan asked suspiciously. ‘Lord Segun was adamant this morning that Pell should be held prisoner.’

‘Then he must have had a change of heart,’ Kira replied with a casual shrug. ‘He ordered us to take Pell and escort him to the mountain range in the north-westernmost area of
Isaa. We are to fly as swiftly as possible and meet Lord Segun in the Valley of the Griffins.’

‘Did he tell you why he was going there?’

‘No,’ Kira said. ‘And it was not my place to ask. Our orders are to get the prisoner there as fast as possible. Can you lead us to this Pell person?’

Kira kept her expression calm, though her stomach was turning somersaults inside. She knew she had placed Murvan in a difficult position, and his indecision was playing across his features.

From what little Kira knew of Segun, the man controlled the night dragon enclave with a fist of iron. She was counting on Murvan’s fear of his leader. If he were close enough to Segun to
be privy to what the night dragon leader was doing, then Murvan would have to assume she had spoken directly with his leader, or a member of his inner council. There was no other logical way she
could know his movements so accurately. The precision of her story lent it credibility he would be brave to ignore. Segun’s wrath was not something to be trifled with.

As Kira had hoped, Murvan did not take long to reach the conclusion she wanted.

‘Follow me,’ he said tersely. He whirled and swept off along the corridor, his long legs striding out so that the three companions were forced almost to run the first few paces to
keep up.