The Fathomless Fire (31 page)

“Do you remember anything else from your mother’s story?” the doctor asked.

“A little,” Will said. “Lightfoot was captured as soon as he set foot in Stormcloud’s kingdom.”

“Just like us, then.”

The ship shuddered as if something had struck it from below. Will gripped the rail and peered anxiously over the side.

“It’s those steam vents we’re passing over,” Alazar said. “The heated air makes for rough sailing.”

“How can this ship fly?” Will said to himself, but the mordog overheard him and grunted.

“The Sky Lord can do anything, boy,” he said, then his gaze moved past them, and Will turned to see what he was looking at.

Before the ship and somewhat below it, a great squarish mass of dark stone rose from the plain, its summit hidden among shreds of dark cloud. Will thought it was a mountain at first, then he saw battlements and deep-set windows. If it was a mountain, it had been shaped and tunnelled into a fortress. But some disaster seemed to have befallen it: the fortress’s vast bulk stood tilted forward, as if an earthquake or some other titanic force had cracked and collapsed its foundations. Just beyond the walls of the fortress the land fell away sharply into a wide stony valley obscured by roiling plumes of steam and black columns of smoke.

“The home of the Sky Folk, no doubt,” Alazar said. “Who turn out to be only men, allied with Nightbane.”

“We are not
Nightbane
,” growled the mordog. “That is your name for the Storyeater’s slaves. We are slaves no more. I am Grath, and I serve the Sky Lord and fight for my freedom, as you will.”

Will and Alazar glanced at one another in surprise but said nothing.

The ship was somewhat higher than the fortress, but as it neared its destination it began to descend and come around to the side that leaned out over the valley of smoke and steam. As they came closer, Will saw that whoever inhabited this fortress had carved and shaped it
after
the disaster that had caused it to lean out so alarmingly. New battlements and walkways had been constructed that were parallel with the earth rather than the tilt of the walls, and huge stone buttresses shored up its northward face.

On this sheer side looking out over the valley, narrow tongues of stone jutted out from the wall, and after a moment Will realized they were docking platforms for the ships. Two other skyships, their sails furled to bare masts, were moored by thick cables from one of these docks.

The ship approached the fortress at about its mid-point, and slowed. Now Will saw figures clustered at the mouth of one of the docks. It was here that the ship came to rest, without the merest bump or jolt that he could feel. Three of the ship’s crew slid out a gangplank and the Sky Folk on the dock caught it and secured it into a groove in the stone.

There was a sound of scuffling behind Will and he turned to see Hawk being hauled up out of the hold by another grim-faced mordog. When the boy saw Will he twisted free and ran to him, clutched his sleeve.

“Don’t worry,” Will whispered to him. “Just stay close to me.”

The mordog gestured to them and they climbed onto the gangplank and descended. Will looked down once into the gap between the hull and the dock. He caught a dizzying glimpse of the land dropping away below the fortress wall into the smoke-shrouded valley. A dull hollow booming sound seemed to be rising from below, though he couldn’t tell for certain where it was coming from.

They were almost across the plank when there was a shrill cry of warning from one of the crew still on the ship. Will heard a cracking sound and looked up to see a slab of rock the size of a large door break away from the wall and plummet past him. It had come within a few terrifying feet of the gangplank. Will saw the slab strike the earth in a cloud of dust and a moment later the deep boom of the impact reached his ears. A belated shudder passed through him.

The mordog named Grath cursed and kept them moving forward.

They passed through a long chamber with a high vaulted roof, then Grath and one other mordog herded Will, Hawk and the doctor down a long descending corridor. Glowing coals set in iron baskets gave off a dim red light that wavered on the polished stone walls of the passageway. At one point the corridor became a gallery that wound around an open shaft plunging into darkness. From far below came a loud metallic clanging, like the striking of many hammers. And then he caught another sound that stopped him in his tracks and made his heart race.

The howling of wolves.

“Keep moving,” Grath rasped, prodding Will in the back with the end of his stave. Will felt an electric jolt stab through him. He stumbled forward and kept walking.

“You keep wolves here?” Alazar asked.

“We breed them,” Grath said. “Make them stronger. Make them fighters.”

“You’re making monsters,” the doctor said angrily.

“To kill monsters,” the mordog growled with a grimace that might have been a smile. In his desire to boast he had clearly forgotten the task at hand. “We just caught the biggest, strongest wolf of them all, not far from where you and your friends were netted. Been hunting him for a long time but we finally brought him down. You’re lucky we Stormriders found you before he did. A born killer, that one. Tore the throat right out of our fiercest pack-leader.”

“Where are you keeping him?” Will asked quickly, certain they must be talking about Shade. But Grath recollected his duty and shoved Will forward so that he stumbled and nearly fell.

At the end of the corridor they came to a door of iron, guarded by two men with lightning staves. One of them unlocked the door and Will, Hawk and the doctor were prodded through, into a dim stone chamber with high walls. The door slammed shut behind them.

Finn and Balor rose from where they’d been sitting on a wooden bench bolted to the floor. Finn was pale and had a cut over one eye. Balor’s hands were manacled.

“You’re alive,” Balor shouted, lurching towards them. “It’s good to see you, Will.”

“And I’m doing well, too, Balor,” the doctor said.

“They wouldn’t tell us anything,” Finn said. “We didn’t know what had happened to you.”

“We’re all right,” Will said, glancing at Hawk, who had stayed close to his side. “Before you were captured, did you see what happened to Shade?”

“No, but we’ve heard wolves since we’ve been here,” Finn said. “They’re keeping them somewhere in the lower halls of the fortress.”

“I think they must have Shade,” Will said. “We have to find him.”

He looked around the stone chamber and his hope fell even further. There was a round wooden lid in one corner, over what he guessed was the latrine. The walls were bare stone stained with damp and the only light came from a small barred grate near the ceiling. The room smelled of long neglect.

“The fact that we’re still alive suggests these Stormriders want something from us,” Finn said.

“To fight for them, that’s my guess,” Balor said. “Like they took the Horse Folk warriors. Well, they’ll have a fight on their hands all right, when I get these manacles off.”

“Did they give you anything to eat?” Alazar asked.

“Some thin soup,” Balor said. “It had a nasty aftertaste. Gahh. Nightbane food.”

“They’ve drugged or poisoned it with something,” Alazar said. “Did you notice anything else, other than the taste?”

“Come to think of it, I felt a little … odd afterwards,” Balor said. “I thought it was because I was still hungry. When you’re this size, broth doesn’t get the job done.”

The floor began to shudder under their feet and they braced themselves against the chamber walls. For a moment it seemed as if the entire fortress was shaking itself apart. Slowly the tremors lessened, then finally stopped.

“This place is falling apart,” Balor said. “Bits and pieces of it have been breaking off ever since they brought us here. And the way it leans. You’d almost think someone picked the whole blasted thing up and dropped it.”

The wildman turned suddenly to Will.

“That story your mother told you, Will,” he said, “about Lightfoot and this Captain Stormcloud. How did it end?”

Will touched his hand to the cold stone wall.

“It didn’t,” he said.

They sat waiting in the cell for what seemed like hours. Every now and then they would hear rumbling, and feel the stone shudder beneath them. At last there was a sound of feet in the corridor outside and the door was unlocked and groaned open. This time there were four other mordog besides Grath, and the two door sentries. The prisoners were marched out of the cell, Balor still manacled. One of the mordog took Hawk and began to lead him away from the others.

“Lightfoot!” the boy cried, struggling against the mordog’s grip on his arm.

“Where are you taking him?” Will shouted.

“Let the boy stay with us,” Finn said.

The mordog did not reply, and Hawk was hurried out of sight. The last Will saw of him was his frightened eyes.

Will and the others were herded along another narrow, winding corridor that rose steadily upwards, then out onto a staircase that was open to the air because part of the wall had crumbled away. They were looking down into the inner part of the fortress, Will realized. As with the chambers and corridors, the tilted courtyard had been reshaped into a series of terraced spaces connected by staircases. The sun was setting in a haze of smoke and dust, but shed enough light to bathe the upper walls in a warm amber glow.

The stairs led back inside the fortress and to another short corridor. At the end was a doorway flanked by two more sentries, and inside it a spacious hall. At one end of the room a large arch-shaped opening looked out into the sky, with a narrow lip of stone that jutted out like one of the mooring platforms, but smaller and probably meant as an observation deck. There was nothing to see through the archway but dark churning cloud, though Will knew that they must be facing the smoke-filled valley.

A tall figure wearing bright mail and a dark red cape stood at the archway looking out into the gloom.

“My Lord,” Grath murmured.

The figure raised a hand but did not turn. All of their escort except for Grath bowed and left the hall.

“Unbind the wildman.”

“Yes, Lord.”

Grath took off Balor’s manacles and shoved him forward.

“That’s more like it,” Balor growled, rubbing his wrists. “Maybe some of you
aren’t
cowards.”

The figure at the archway turned and looked at each of them. He was a tall man with dark hair, but they could not see his features well in the fitful light. A mask of leather covered the left side of his face. He took a few steps forward, and Will saw that his gait was stiff and laboured. Around his neck, on a thick chain, hung what looked like the iron tip of a spear, or an arrowhead, of dull black metal.

“You’ve come a long way, travellers,” the man said in a rough, rasping voice. “To the end of the world, in fact.”

Finn stepped forward.

“My name is Finn Madoc. My companions followed my lead, and they are blameless in whatever it is you have held us for. Let them return home.”

“Home,” the man said with what sounded like scorn. “And where would that be?”

“Far to the south.”

“A country with no name, then?”

Finn stayed silent.

“Perhaps you’ll tell me what brought you here.”

“Your men did,” Balor said, stepping forward. “I assume we have the pleasure of addressing the mighty Sky Lord. We had no dealings with you and our business was our own, and yet your skyship crew took us captive.”

“You are strangers, found among those whom we protect. It was the duty of my Stormriders to bring you here. And now I would like to know what you were doing in our lands.”

“We were on a scouting mission,” Finn said. “Rumours of war in the north reached our country, and we were sent to find out what we could.”

“A scouting mission,” said the Sky Lord in a sceptical tone.

“We are knights of the Errantry,” Balor said loudly before Finn could stop him. “My name is Balor Gruff. Remember it. I come from a land called the Bourne. The boy is my apprentice. He was supposed to return home with the doctor here. Let him go, and the other lad as well, the Horse Folk boy. They’re no warriors.”

“Knights of the Errantry,” the Sky Lord said, his eyebrows rising. “I never would have guessed.”

“You’ve heard of us, then,” Balor said. “Which means you know what we’re capable of.”

“
Balor
,” Finn said warningly.

“Oh, I know it all too well,” the Sky Lord said with what sounded again to Will like a hint of scorn. “I also know that you didn’t come here on any scouting mission. I think you were searching for someone.”

No one spoke.

“The others came with me out of friendship,” Finn said at last. “I came seeking news of a man named Corr Madoc. He left the Bourne ten years ago, but we found out only recently that he may have come this way with his followers.”

The Sky Lord nodded.

“I see. And what was this Corr Madoc doing here?”

“He was hunting a band of Nightbane who raided our land and killed some of our people.”

“So he was seeking vengeance.”

“It was a reckless action, not condoned by the Errantry. He had fifty men with him, and not a word has been heard of any of them since. Their families don’t know if they’re still alive.”

“So this Corr Madoc, this hunter of Nightbane, if he returned home, would he be hailed a hero?”

“He wounded a young man on his way out of the Bourne, a young man who tried to stop him from taking horses that belonged to the Errantry.”

The Sky Lord was silent for a long moment.

“The young man lived?” he said at last.

“He died later of his wounds. When my brother returns to Fable, he will have to face the consequences of that act. I would expect no less of him. He was always impulsive and angry, but I know he would wish to do what’s right.”

The Sky Lord turned back towards the archway. He clasped his gloved hands behind his back.

“Perhaps after ten years, one’s idea of what’s right may change,” he said.

“Do you know what happened to him? Is he here?”