Blood and Fire (Book 3)

by Marcus Alexander

  But before Charlie’s dazed eyes and disbelieving mind could untwist the ethereal sight of what lay beyond, there came a crash of epic proportions. Whipping her head round, she stared up at the ceiling in time to see the great dome collapse.

  Time slowed.

  Charlie’s jaw dropped open as Stix and his brutal Stowyrm squirmed through the cascading rubble. She caught a glimpse of flames reflected like shimmering jewels in the crystalline wings, a flash of scales, saw Stix’s cat’s eyes flared wide with triumph, then all she could see was the Stowyrm’s mouth spread wider than should have been possible and row after row of glinting teeth.

  Time sped up.

  The Stowyrm’s wings blurred, its spiked tail lashed and, with terrifying speed, it slammed slobbering and juddering on top of Marsila. Smacking its mouth shut, and with its momentum still unchecked, it careened into the behemoth, bounced off, then wriggled and writhed to stand side by side with its companion.

  Of Marsila there was no sign other than a trail of glistening red liquid.

  Charlie, E’Jaaz and Nibbler’s movements stuttered to a silent standstill.

  The Gateway, now open, fell silent. The tempest of violent winds at last spent, the detritus which had been caught up fluttered slowly to the floor. With the Triad broken, the remaining two Keepers’ Will sputtered and vanished.

  And in this sudden, awkward and horrific silence, the Delightful Brothers began to speak.

  ‘Hello, little rabbit,’ growled Stix. He fixed Charlie with an unwavering stare. ‘Thought you could outrun us, did you? Thought you could scamper away after taking our mother from us? Well, you thought wrong!’

  Stones held up his necklace and rattled it. ‘Time to add your teeth to my collection. Time to pay!’

  He drew back his bow and, taking advantage of his enemies’ state of shock, smiled wickedly … and released.

  The arrow spat through the air and Charlie, still devastated by the turn of events, stared dumbly as it sped towards her. There was a flicker of motion as E’Jaaz jumped in front of her.

  THUNK!

  The force of the arrow slammed E’Jaaz into Charlie. She moaned as she felt a stabbing pain in her leg. Looking down, she could see the arrow protruding from E’Jaaz’s thigh and with a nauseous sense of alarm realized it had gone right through him to penetrate her own leg.

  ‘Uuuuugh,’ grunted E’Jaaz. Face white, he collapsed forward, and Charlie, snagged with him, struggled to bear his weight.

  ‘Well, what do you know?’ drawled Stix. ‘Looks like you missed, my brother. Why don’t you try again?’

  ‘My pleasure,’ smirked Stones. ‘It’s not every day that you get to turn a Keeper into a pincushion.’

  ‘For mother!’ said Stix.

  ‘For mother,’ agreed Stones. Pulling his bow back, he let loose another arrow.

  Nibbler, his innocence now irretrievably vanished, woke from his stupor. With a growl of pure fury, he spat a jet of flame at the arrow, turning it to dust. He sent another crack of lightning towards the Delightful Brothers and, before they or their Stowyrms could react, grabbed both Keepers in his arms and jumped through the Winged Ones’ Gateway.

  35

  Hotstepper

  ‘Huh?’ grunted Stones. Looking first at the Gateway, then at his brother, he slung his bow over his shoulder and dismounted. ‘Imagine that.’

  Stix also jumped down to join his brother. Ignoring the Stonesingers and their behemoth, they made their way to the edge of the glimmering Gateway. Together they stared through it and an expression very much like wonder fluttered across their devious faces.

  A view of stars and galaxies and floating islands greeted their astonished eyes. The brothers gasped and for a while they thought they were being treated to the inner secrets of space. But it was not so. The prevailing colour of the infinite background was deep indigo, not black. And the waves of spiralling stars seemed to bob and sway like Chinese lanterns afloat on some mysterious and ethereal current. The floating islands, great slabs of land covered with swathes of greenery and forest, were clearly lit but there was no obvious source for this illumination.

  ‘Now I’ve seen it all,’ said Stix. ‘The Realm of the Winged Ones.’

  Slowly and carefully, they peered over the edge in the vain hope of spotting their prey. But nothing could be seen, just an endless drop that lay between infinite layers of drifting islands.

  ‘Think we should go down there and take a look?’ suggested Stones.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Stix. He looked at their two Stowyrms. He didn’t doubt they would be able to cope with the odd realm. It was, after all, a realm for flying beasts.

  Suddenly a dark silhouette whistled past the Gateway. The wind of the unseen thing’s passing buffeted the Delightful Brothers. Seconds later a roaring growl, equal to anything the Stowyrms could deliver, pounded into the chamber.

  Eyes wide, mouths pinched shut, Stix and Stones slowly backed away.

  ‘Maybe not,’ admitted Stix. Turning to his brother, he added, ‘I think that the time has come for us to consider our options.’

  Charlie remembered a terrifying fall, a tangle of limbs as she plummeted with E’Jaaz in her arms and Nibbler grunting as he did his best to slow their descent. There had been a whirr of stars, a flash of odd islands floating on nothing, then a crack and snap of breaking tree limbs followed by a ripping sensation and a flare of agony as she and E’Jaaz were torn apart.

  Then nothing.

  It was the rasping pain in her butchered hand and the stab of agony in her leg that finally brought her back to consciousness. Opening her eyes, she tried to sit up, only to find Nibbler’s paw pushing her back down. She lifted her head to see his other talon pressed firmly against the flesh of her leg, doing his best to stem the flow of blood.

  She bit back the urge to moan or cry.

  ‘Mars–’ began Charlie but, unable to say the woman’s name, fell silent. This wasn’t a kid’s story. There was no coming back from the dead. No miracles. Not here. Marsila was gone. Unable to look to the past and not yet ready to deal with the future, she instead concentrated on the present. ‘E’Jaaz? Is he …?’

  ‘He’s OK,’ said Nibbler. Then, realizing that wasn’t quite the truth, added, ‘for now.’

  Charlie tried to sit up again only to be pushed down once more. ‘Stay down, Charlie. You’re bleeding too much.’

  Shaking with pain, fear and disbelief, she scrunched her eyes shut. She raised her ruined hand and tried to dredge up what was left of her courage. But her eyes refused to open. It seemed that part of her didn’t want to face the reality of her latest loss, of being mutilated. Biting the inside of her cheek, she pushed the weaker part of herself down and forced her eyes open.

  Her hand was not a pleasant sight.

  Half growling, half sobbing, she tried to make a fist but the motion was agonizing. She gave up and instead pushed her hands down to cover Nibbler’s paw.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ she said and pushed Nibbler’s talons away to put pressure against her wound. She twisted her head round and saw that they were in a lush and verdant forest. Not as magnificent as Deepforest but nonetheless she could feel the age and majesty of the place. The trees were heavy with moss, the floor soft with a blanket of old pine needles, the air rich with the scent of vanilla, juniper and cedar. Looking up, she noticed a tunnel of broken branches – the passage of their crash-landing into this forest – and through this she spied an unusual indigo sky, full of stars that seemed to wink and shine as though their attention was fixed solely on her.

  She blinked and pushed the magnificence and wonder away, choosing instead to look around until she spotted E’Jaaz. He was lying on his back, one of his arms trapped beneath him at an unnatural angle, and the head of Stones’s barbed arrow jutted from his leg.

  ‘Go check on him, Nibbler.’

  Concerned for Charlie’s wellbeing, but also aware that things couldn’t get much worse, he did as he was told. Padding over to E’Jaaz, he to
ok a closer look at his wound.

  ‘It’s not bleeding much but I think the arrow broke his bone.’ Nibbler switched his attention to the man’s arm. ‘And I think his shoulder is dislocated.’

  ‘Is he conscious?’

  Nibbler gently patted E’Jaaz’s cheek. ‘No.’

  Ignoring Nibbler’s earlier instructions, she sat up and, with a groan, applied more pressure to her wound. It hurt but she was reassured to see that the bleeding had slowed. It dawned on her that there was no one else to take charge so she took a slow steady breath, pushed her pain aside and focused her thoughts. Logic and faint memories of first-aid classes came to mind.

  ‘His shoulder can wait. His leg should probably take priority.’

  ‘Do you want me to pull the arrow out?’ asked Nibbler dubiously.

  ‘No! It’s plugging the wound. If you pull it out it’ll bleed all over the place. See if you can find something to splint his leg. Maybe tie something round the arrow to stop it wriggling and making it any worse.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  ‘I …’ Charlie faltered. ‘I’ll have to make do with a tourniquet.’

  Tugging the belt from round her waist wasn’t easy as the motion caused the pain in her leg to flare and she nearly shrieked when she accidentally knocked her damaged hand. Sweating profusely, she pulled the belt tight round her thigh. But she wasn’t thrilled when she looked at the results. Her leg still bled and her hand still dribbled a large amount of fluid.

  ‘This isn’t going to work, Charlie. I’ll have to get help from –’ Nibbler looked around – ‘from somewhere. Just keep putting pressure on your leg and I’ll be back as soon –’

  The snap-snap of breaking wood made both of them jump.

  ‘Stowyrms?’ whispered Charlie in alarm.

  Nibbler raised his hackles. Padding over as silently as he could, he crouched protectively over her. The cracking noise grew and with it the sound of swaying treetops. Then the steady thump-thump of heavy feet clumping through the forest loam.

  Charlie grew tense. She grabbed hold of Nibbler with one white-knuckled hand, raised her other and summoned her Will. A faint flicker of golden flame fluttered across her remaining three fingers and thumb. It was pathetic, worse than the time she had been hung out to dry in the Stoman prison.

  ‘Keepers?’ called a rich, baritone voice. ‘Keepers, are you there?’

  Nibbler half-opened his mouth but was silenced by Charlie’s hand on his muzzle. She slowly shook her head. After all her hard lessons and bitter betrayals, she would not allow them to fall prey to any strangers.

  The thud of large feet grew. So too the noise of trees creaking and groaning as they were pushed aside. Then silence, broken seconds later by the sound of some serious sniffing. The movement resumed, growing closer and closer, then stopped.

  ‘Greetings,’ said the voice.

  Charlie and Nibbler flinched.

  There was another rumble of movement as several nearby trees were forced apart to reveal a dragon of huge proportions. Snaking its head forward on its long versatile neck, it stared at Charlie and Nibbler with mesmerizing green eyes.

  ‘My name is Hotstepper.’

  36

  Dragonsblood

  Stix and Stones eyed the Gateway with misgivings. It didn’t take much imagination on their part to consider what could, at any moment, come snarling through.

  ‘This is not a good position to be in,’ said Stones after a period of contemplation.

  Stix refrained from pointing out what an understatement that was. Instead he said, ‘We need time to think.’

  The Delightful Brothers stared at the array of Stoman forces circled around them. Power-wreathed Stonesingers, skittering Rhinospiders, grizzled soldiers, rustling Shades and a scattering of behemoths. Many more crowded outside to peer through the hole in the wall; others pressed themselves between the remaining doorways. Of all of those gathered, not one of them looked in any other direction than the Gateway. A current of some indefinable emotion rippled through the congregation.

  Fear? Anger? Restlessness? Whatever it was, neither Stix nor Stones could decipher it. Nor did they care to. They were, after all, the most dangerous present and theoretically still in charge.

  ‘Stonesingers,’ growled Stones. ‘Start sealing the Gateway. The rest of you, pull back! This is now a hotspot and you will need room to manoeuvre! And someone get me the quartermaster; we’re going to need siege bows dug out of storage.’

  One of the sergeants, looking slightly flustered, called out, ‘Sir, the Keepers got the quartermaster.’

  ‘Well, you’ve just got yourself a promotion, then,’ growled Stix.

  Gesturing for his brother to follow him, he pushed his way through the crowd, clambered on to his Stowyrm and, once clear of the temple, took to the skies.

  They didn’t go far. The two Stowyrms flared their wings to land and perch amongst a grove of rock spires.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Stix.

  Stones snorted. ‘I think things took a definite turn for the worse. I don’t think Bane is going to be too happy and I don’t think this part of the world is going to look too clever if the Winged Ones make an appearance.’

  ‘I take it you’ve got no confidence in the Stonesingers plugging the Gateway?’

  ‘It took them nine months to successfully block the Gateway at the Embassy of the Winds. Whatever this lot manage to achieve, it won’t be enough to slow the Winged Ones down if they decide they want to return.’

  ‘Why bother, then?’

  ‘They’re soldiers,’ said Stones. ‘They need to be kept busy.’

  ‘You mean keep them too busy to realize the danger they’re in.’

  Stones shrugged. ‘That too.’

  Stix clenched his fists round the pommel of his saddle. ‘I’m not happy with the idea that that whippersnapper of a Keeper still gets to breathe. Not after what she did to us, to mother. I want to rip the skin from her back and tear the hair from her scalp and weave them together to make a belt!’ Furious, he punched his hand repeatedly into the scales of his Stowyrm. The great beast, affected more by its rider’s mood than the ineffectual pounding on its rocky flesh, stirred unhappily.

  ‘Well, we have made a start, my brother,’ rumbled Stones. ‘We have killed one of her mentors, crippled another and bloodied her body. And from the whispered rumours we overheard in the Western Mountains, Bellania has not been kind to Charlie Keeper. Mr Crow stole the lifeblood from her teacher, Azariah Keeper, the bishop Edge Darkmount snapped her leg and twisted her soul, and Fo Fum beat her body black and blue. The Patchwork Daemons chased her, Bane’s First burned her home in Sylvaris and if we ever need cheering up all we need remember is that –’

  ‘– Bane has her parents in his Tapestry,’ said Stix, finishing his brother’s words with a smirk. ‘Ha! I bet that little rabbit is wishing she never left London.’ Clapping his hands together, he looked up at the moon and the stars, and smiled. ‘That list of hurt has lifted some of the burden upon my honour. So, brother, what to do with this situation. Do you think it worth our while to wait?’

  ‘I think that things are only going to get worse, but we have our weapons, gold in our saddle and our steeds to ride. We are safe in the knowledge that if we need to disappear that option is available to us. But let us bide our time and see how events continue to unfold. What is that saying they have on Earth?’

  ‘It’s not over until the fat lady sings?’

  ‘No, the other one.’

  ‘It ain’t over till it’s over?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ growled Stones. ‘It ain’t over till it’s over.’

  ‘Hello, little brother,’ said Hotstepper. He leaned down and touched his muzzle to Nibbler’s.

  The pain in Charlie’s leg, in her hand, in her heart, all were momentarily forgotten. Life had been merciless and cruel and she had long ago learned to push aside hopeless dreams and fantasies but this was the stuff of fairy tales. This new dra
gon, this adult Winged One called Hotstepper, was gigantic! His head dwarfed Nibbler’s and even though the rest of his body was hidden amongst the trees Charlie could not help but appreciate how large and how powerful he seemed. And his scales! Burnished silver, with flecks of glittering blue and black. And his eyes! No iris, no whites, just a solid emerald green.

  Aware that her mouth had been open for some time and that she was at risk of dribbling, she shut her jaw before she made a fool of herself.

  The moment stretched … then Hotstepper swayed his huge head to stare at Charlie.

  ‘The Keeper,’ he said. He lifted an enormous paw and tenderly pulled back her torn trousers, then just as gently lifted her mangled hand. ‘Wounded.’ He caught sight of E’Jaaz’s fallen form. ‘Both of you.’

  ‘Can you help?’ asked Nibbler.

  Hotstepper

  ‘I can,’ said Hotstepper. The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through Charlie’s bones. ‘But it will not be pretty or painless. They are Human and I’m not a Treman or Stoman healer.’ He twisted his neck to look past the torn branches into the beguiling sky. ‘And with the Gateway open we cannot afford the luxury of time. We must move and move swiftly.’

  Hotstepper held a talon to his mouth and gusted out a small but precise jet of blue flame. He held his talon in place, twisting and turning it until it glowed a dull red, then a bright orange.

  ‘Little Keeper, you have lost a lot of blood. We must quench the flow.’ He paused before adding in a tone of apology, ‘This will hurt.’

  Charlie, not quite sure what was happening, stared at him. She had grown used to Nibbler and the splendour of Bellania, but being this close to a full-sized dragon was mesmerizing and the magic of the moment clouded her thoughts. That soon changed as Hotstepper pressed his talon, like a soldering iron, against the wound in her leg. Charlie shrieked and would have flailed about if Hotstepper hadn’t reached down to grasp her with his other paw. The scent of grilled pork and a wisp of smoke wafted in the air. Charlie’s stomach heaved. But it wasn’t over yet.