by Darius Hinks
They landed near the roots and Haldus waved for Clorana and the others to wait a few feet away as he spoke to the king.
Orion was hunched over something and, as Haldus reached him he saw that he had removed the fragment of dragontooth from his cloak and was staring at it.
‘The memories are all there,’ said Orion.
Haldus waited a few feet away not sure if he was being addressed.
‘I am Finavar,’ said the king, ‘and I am Sephian. I am Valerin, Nathair, Cirean, Nimhír and a hundred other souls.’ His eyes widened. ‘I can hear them all.’ He looked up at the tree. ‘Sephian advises we set the tree alight and drive the serpents out with flames.’ He laughed. ‘Nimhír believes we should abandon this plan and hunt Drycha down instead, before she destroys every spirit in the forest.’ He ran his calloused, taloned hands over the antlers that crowned his head. ‘But we are more than we ever were alone.’ He closed his eyes. ‘There is a wildness in this world, Haldus. There is a power greater than anything I ever imagined.’ He looked up at the bone-white vault of the sky. Wisps of cloud were scudding across the heavens. ‘Even the darkest conjuring of sorcerers is nothing to the simple power of nature. Even the gods are in thrall.’
Orion’s words were dazed and full of awe and Haldus felt as though he were intruding. He began to back away but, before he had taken a few steps, Orion looked up at him. ‘You are part of it too, Haldus. You have been with me since the beginning.’
Haldus shook his head, confused, Orion continued.
‘Do you recall the eagle spirit, Amphion?’
Haldus winced. ‘I do.’
Orion noticed his discomfort. ‘What troubles you?’
‘When I returned to Turas-Alva, Amphion was still there, held captive by Lord Cyanos. Cyanos intended to sacrifice the spirit so that he could steal its power for his own.’ He hesitated. ‘I rescued it and then, although it clearly despised me, it let me live.’
‘In gratitude?’
‘No.’ Haldus frowned. ‘It told me I did not understand my own nature. It said I was something it had not expected.’
Orion looked at Haldus in silence for a while. Then asked: ‘Do you recall how Cyanos’s spear pierced its flesh?’
‘Of course, yes. The spear was still intact when I freed Amphion.’
Orion held up the shard of tooth he was holding. ‘This comes from the same source. It was left in my corpse by the dragon, Tamarix.’
Haldus stared at it. ‘So it could pierce the hide of his kin.’
Orion nodded. ‘If all goes ill, it could buy us our escape.’
He turned and signalled for Clorana and the other warhawk riders to dismount and join them.
‘We must climb,’ he said. ‘I will lead the beasts to war. The Wild Hunt is a greater power than anything the Plague God can wield. With a dragon as my mount, the spirits will see what I signify. And if I can stir the Council of Beasts to war, the forest will unite. I’m sure of it.’
Haldus nodded, then looked anxiously up at the tree. All that he had heard of this place was that it meant death for anyone foolish enough to approach.
Orion caught his gaze and smiled. The smile was an odd mixture of ferocity and cunning. ‘Trust me.’ He tapped the ridged, mossy plates that covered his chest. ‘The forest is on our side.’
They climbed quickly. The asrai were born for this kind of work. Even Orion’s battered hooves found easy purchase in the craggy boughs. By sunset they were several miles from the foot of the tree and the branches were silvered with frost. It was not until well into the night that they caught a trace of their prey.
Damára’s blindness had been no more of a hindrance than Orion’s hooves; if anything, her nimble fingers seemed even more adept than the others’ at finding handholds and sturdy branches to climb. Starlight gleamed in her silver hair as she overtook the others, using her horned staff to lever herself over obstacles and haul herself through gaps. With dawn just a couple of hours away, she paused and sniffed the cold night air.
Orion, Haldus and the others all paused to look at her.
‘There is death here,’ she announced, pointing her staff at a wide, flat branch, swooping away to the east. ‘It happened a long time ago, but it’s too much to be the work of birds.’
Orion gripped his spear and stepped out onto the branch, peering along its length.
Haldus noticed, to his surprise, that the hunter king was hesitating.
‘My lord?’ he asked following him onto the wide branch.
‘Everything hinges on this, Haldus,’ said Orion, still keeping his gaze fixed on the other end of the branch. ‘I must convince one of them to carry me. Then the others will follow.’
‘My lord,’ said Haldus. ‘I have never seen you so powerful. The forest itself has lent you its armour. And you carry a weapon that even dragons could not–’
‘No,’ interrupted Orion. ‘This is not a question of power.’ He turned to Damára, who was standing a few feet away. ‘Can you smell them? Can you smell their anger? Their hurt?’
She nodded but gave no answer and Haldus realised she was afraid of Orion. He was about to reassure her that the King in the Woods was not to be feared, but then he recalled the deaths he had seen at Orion’s hands. He held his tongue, noticing how Damára was keeping their daughter at a safe distance. Perhaps her caution was not so ill-advised?
Orion nodded in reply. ‘They are wounded and bitter. If we fight them they will either kill us or die. I must reason with them.’ He took a few steps along the branch. ‘I can picture them as they once were – loyal servants of the forest, ready to fight when the trees called. They were as wise as Sativus and…’ His words trailed off and Haldus saw that the mention of Sativus had derailed his thoughts.
‘Then we will reason,’ said Haldus.
Orion clenched his jaw, considering something, then strode off down the branch with the others rushing to keep up.
The tree pressed closer and, even though they were miles above the ground, it felt as though they were approaching the borders of an ancient grove. There was a thick mesh of twigs up ahead and the branch led, road-like, to a tall, oval entrance.
Haldus waved to his kinsmen as they neared the doorway. They unslung their bows and nocked arrows into place as they followed Orion.
Orion paused briefly at the threshold, gripped his spear in both hands, then plunged into the gloom on the other side.
Prince Haldus rushed after him and saw that they had entered some kind of vast antechamber, hanging way above the forest. Beyond the doorway the branch widened to form a circular platform, several hundred feet in diameter and canopied by a huge, arched dome. The whole tree was leafless and stars glittered through the gaps in the dome, spilling light onto the wooden floor and proving Damára right. There were bones everywhere – femurs and skulls, heaped in mounds and covered in dust.
Orion and the others spread out to investigate and saw that some of the bones came from animals and some had belonged to asrai warriors. All of them had been torn apart and left in splintered fragments.
There was no sign of the dragons.
At the other side of the chamber there was another portal, even larger than the first and there was a pale light leaking through.
Orion strode through into the next chamber and the others rushed after him.
At first, Haldus thought they were surrounded by statues. Towering, dusty columns surrounded another circular chamber – each one the perfect likeness of an enormous, winged serpent. But then he noticed that, beneath inches of dust and cobwebs, their eyes were moving, watching Orion as he strode into the centre of the chamber.
‘Which of you is Tanos?’ demanded Orion, recalling the name he had heard at the Council of Beasts.
There was no sound but the breeze, whipping between the naked branches that made up the walls of the chamber.
Haldus and the other warhawk riders hesitated nervously in the doorway, awed by the vast monsters looming over them. Even their p
owerful king looked pathetic surrounded by such terrible grandeur. It looked as though the dragons had not moved for an age, but that did nothing to soften the ferocity of their appearance.
Clorana gasped and to Haldus’s shock, he saw her mother was hurrying over to Orion, stepping out into the view of the dragons.
The sound of the wind made it hard for the blind spellweaver to find Orion, so she called out to him.
Haldus winced as her voice rang out, but the dragons remained motionless.
Orion stepped over to her and nodded as she whispered something in his ear.
Haldus rushed over and dragged Damára back to the doorway, glaring at her as Clorana gripped her arm.
‘What did you tell him?’ he whispered.
Damára was pale and shaking from her exchange with Orion, but she managed a weak smile. ‘I merely reminded the king of how proud dragons are.’
Haldus was about to ask more when Orion cried out again to the immobile serpents.
‘This is just what they warned me would happen.’
He waited for a response, but none came so he continued. ‘I passed through the Darna-Càoch. The forgotten pool admitted me to the sacred grove and ordered the Council of Beasts to join me. They refused, and when I asked why, they told me a shameful truth. They said that the greatest of their number had grown afraid. They told me that they could not fight without you, and that you have long forgotten your bravery.’
Orion’s hooves rang out as he strode around the circular chamber, glaring up at the serpents’ long, imperious faces.
‘I should have listened,’ he cried, jabbing his spear at each of them in turn. ‘You are not worthy of a place in my hunt. You are not worthy of sharing in my victory!’ He began walking back towards the doorway. ‘Stay here and cower, while your betters fight to save your wretched skins.’
Orion had almost reached the doorway when a sound filled the chamber. It was a low, derisive snarl that gradually formed into ragged, growled words.
‘There are no cowards here, only betrayers and betrayed.’
As Orion whirled around, Prince Haldus saw one of the dragons climb down from the wall. It landed with a juddering crash that shook the whole chamber and caused him and the other warhawk riders to stumble back a few steps. The serpent stretched its wings and reared over Orion, like a great eagle towering over a fledgling. Dust billowed from its scales, revealing a vivid, apple green hide and eyes that were shimmering crescents of amber and red.
‘Are you Tanos?’ demanded Orion.
The dragon slowly nodded its massive head, shedding more dust and causing Haldus and the others to cough and splutter.
‘And will you fight with me, Tanos?’ demanded Orion, pointing his spear back at his companions. ‘Will you join the hunt?’
Tanos lowered its head until it was just a few feet from Orion’s face. As it exhaled, the force of its breath was enough to send him back a few steps.
‘Why would I fight for you? You have no power, Orion. Your promises have come to nothing. Under your rule, the forest has been destroyed.’ The dragon raised its voice, causing Orion to stagger back a few more steps. ‘We do not sleep, Orion. We see all. This perch is high. High enough to show us all your weakness and treachery. The asrai have failed us. You have failed us. The forest is lost. The Council of Beasts has been destroyed – but not by our absence.’ Tanos’s lips curled back from teeth as big as spears. ‘The Council was destroyed the moment you murdered Sativus!’
Haldus saw Orion wince at these words, but before the king could reply, Tanos continued, venting a long-held grudge.
‘You murdered the oldest of us, Orion. The best of us. You killed the Great Stag. Do you understand what that means? Sativus was the very soul of the forest.’
Orion shook his head. ‘You had already withdrawn from the Brúidd before the fall of Sativus.’ He strode forwards, sounding as angry as the dragon. ‘And if you truly see everything, you will know that Sativus was crazed. He attacked my queen. I only sought him out to beg forgiveness for standing against him. But he was not himself.’ The rage faded from Orion’s voice, replaced by sadness. ‘Chaos took him long before I did.’
Tanos sneered. ‘You know nothing, little elf king. And it matters not.’ The dragon’s eyes grew dark. ‘The heart of the forest is gone. Your battles are meaningless. We will wait here and defend our home. And you will reap what you have sown.’
Haldus felt Damára step forwards. He held her back but Orion saw her move and nodded.
‘Admit it, Tanos,’ he said quietly. ‘You are afraid to fight.’
Tanos’s eyes blazed white-hot and the dragon tilted its head back with a roar, spewing a poisonous-smelling spiral of fumes across the ceiling of the chamber.
Haldus gripped his bow and nodded for the others to do the same.
Orion started walking back to the doorway again.
Haldus saw, to his horror that the dragon was about to pounce.
‘Orion!’ he cried as Tanos launched itself across the chamber with a deafening howl.
Haldus and the others fired their arrows but they bounced uselessly off the dragon’s iron-hard scales.
Orion cast aside his spear, rolled to one side and, as Tanos crashed down where he had been standing, he threw all his weight into a punch, slamming his fist hard against the dragon’s jaw.
Tanos’s head jolted to one side, but it was laughing as it turned and settled on its haunches. ‘So this is how you die, little elf king,’ said the dragon, its voice low and dangerous. ‘Did you think you could make the tiniest scratch in one such as I? Do you truly understand so little about the forest? Do you know nothing of my nature?’
Haldus noticed that the other dragons were descending from the walls, shedding their robes of dust and revealing a rainbow of armoured hides.
‘I am your king, Tanos,’ said Orion. ‘Where I lead, you follow.’
The dragon sneered, but Orion continued, unperturbed. He nodded at the floor of knotted branches beneath the dragon. ‘And where I strike, you will bleed.’
Haldus saw the shock in Tanos’s eyes as it looked down and saw a dark, glinting pool forming around its claws. The dragon reached up to touch its jaw and felt a flap of loose hide, hanging from below its teeth, shedding blood down its scales.
‘You cannot–’ began Tanos, but before the dragon could finish, Orion had bounded across the chamber and planted another punch into one of its legs.
The force of the blow was great enough to topple the dragon. It slammed to the ground and howled.
As Orion backed away, Tanos looked down and saw with disbelief that Orion had torn a great gash along its leg. There was more blood pouring from the dragon and bone was clearly visible.
Tanos pounded its wings and flew across the chamber at Orion. Again, Orion ducked aside and landed a punch on the dragon’s head.
The dragon veered off to the left, still flying and smashed into the wall of branches. Bark, dust and splintered wood covered the serpent as it tried to rise. Blood was rushing from the other side of its head and, as it turned to face Orion, Haldus saw that there was fear in its eyes.
Haldus cried out a warning as the other dragons rushed forwards to attack. He loosed an arrow, knowing it would do no good, and the other warhawk riders did the same.
Orion paid no heed to the warning and charged at Tanos, raising his fist for another blow.
‘Wait!’ roared Tanos, raising one of its claws and backing away along the wall.
Orion halted but the other dragons kept hurtling towards him. He dodged the first of them and punched a hole through the second’s wings. It rolled clear with a howl and, before the next one had reached Orion, Tanos cried out.
‘Stop!’
The dragons crashed to the ground all around Orion, but did not attack.
The king reeled backwards for a moment, then came to a halt and glared at Tanos.
‘I do not need the help of a coward,’ he cried. ‘I can kill twelve dragons
as easily as one.’
Tanos shook its head, spraying blood through the air.
Haldus could see the shock in its eyes.
‘What power do you have over us?’ gasped Tanos.
‘I am the King in the Forest,’ replied Orion. ‘The last dragon I vanquished was named Tamarix. I fight you now with the strength I took from his corpse.’
Tanos looked at the other dragons in amazement.
They shook their heads and began rising up over the king, readying themselves for another attack.
‘No!’ snapped Tanos. It moved closer to Orion, limping as a result of its wounds. ‘I thought… I thought you were a fool. But you are…’ The dragon’s words trailed off.
‘He is your king!’ cried Haldus, striding across the chamber to Orion’s side. The others rushed after him, surrounding Orion in a protective circle and levelling arrows at the dragons.
Tanos shook its head, bewildered.
As Haldus edged closer, he glimpsed the shard of dragontooth Orion was clutching in his fist. It was not hard to spot, but he realised that Tanos was not looking for tricks. The dragon was looking for hope.
‘He is my king,’ said Tanos in a quiet, awed voice, and the other dragons recoiled in shock.
Chapter Eighteen
The fly queen was tormented by glimpses of her past. As she whirred through the clouds, her mind boiled with confusing images: mounds of rotting meat and bubbling tumours merged with glimpses of a proud and noble past. She tried to stay focussed, fixing her compound eyes on the scene below. The daemon’s garden was finally completed and ready to serve its purpose. Its shape was now unmistakable. Miles-long spirals of pink fungus had come together to create a vast, luminescent stomach, fed by eight rivers of bile and covering the entire south-western corner of the forest.
As the yellow rivers fed this grotesque organ, it gurgled and grew – an endless explosion of life, enveloping and digesting, consuming the few pulpy trees that remained. The walls of the stomach were lined with a dazzling array of fungi and glistening, unnatural beings. She saw groves of arrow-headed toadstools, painted in impossibly garish shades of purple and puce, reaching high into the swirling spore clouds. There were truffles the size of boulders, crawling with lice and scurrying around on glistening, serpentine legs. Colossal puffballs erupted from every crevice, pale as bone and oozing dark trails of blood. Sunbursts of golden lichen were splashed over the rocks and crawled up the stems of black, ridged morels. Fungus covered every surface and, rushing through all these ridges and parasols were tiny, bloated daemons – horned balls of blubber, frolicking through the madness on their fat little legs.