Rollan looked at the jeweled Golden Lion, secure around Cabaro’s neck, then at the crashing treetops, heading ever nearer. Maybe Essix could try again to seize the talisman, but Rollan was loathe even to suggest it. One swipe from Cabaro’s paw would be the end of the falcon.
They needed the talisman, but the very worst possibility was that the Conquerors would get it. The idea of Zerif holding the Golden Lion in triumph made Rollan furious. “Run!” he yelled to Cabaro. “Run and we’ll delay the Conquerors. Save your talisman!”
“Run?” Cabaro said. “Do you not realize who I am? Cabaro runs from no enemy.”
“Rollan speaks wisely,” Tarik said. “For your own good and that of all of Erdas, please flee.”
“Save your breath,” Irtike murmured. “It’s too late.”
The greenery at the clearing’s edge parted, and a giant black form barreled through, sidewinding into the clearing. It twisted and reared. Two scaled wings at either side of its head fanned out into a hood, and the snubbed permanent smile on the snake’s face widened to show two fangs, long as swords.
Gerathon was here.
At the sight of the enormous cobra, Cabaro whirled, snarling. The lion was trapped — one way out was blocked by Gerathon, and the other by Rollan and his group. Remembering how aggressive the lone lion in Okaihee had become after it had been trapped, Rollan felt his body go numb with fear. Cabaro would have to attack them or Gerathon in order to escape, and Rollan knew which was the easier target.
Gerathon swayed, staring down each of them in turn and hissing. The Great Beast was so long — it was hard to imagine that she couldn’t immediately strike anyone she wanted to hit. Behind her emerged a leather-armored figure. Zerif.
“Cabaro!” Tarik called. “Get behind us.”
But anger flashed in Cabaro’s eyes. He was taking orders from no one, especially not a human.
Rollan waited for Gerathon to speak, but Tarik had been right: She wasn’t here to convince anyone of anything. The giant serpent reared and then, quick as an arrow, struck. The nearest lioness was trapped neatly between her fangs. Gerathon hurled her to one side. She wouldn’t have needed to use her poison — there was no way the lioness could have survived that blow. Then Gerathon struck again, and another lioness was punctured. She’d killed two full-grown lionesses in as many seconds.
Except for Cabaro, none of them could hope to match Gerathon for quickness. As she hurled the second lioness to one side, the giant lion roared and pounced, his jaw clamping right behind Gerathon’s hood. The lion shook his head. Any smaller beast would have been flailing through the air, but Gerathon was too massive. She was motionless in the lion’s mouth, her tail the only part of her that was thrashing.
The remaining lionesses pounced on that tail and sank their teeth in. The serpent thrashed, and everyone but Cabaro went flying. One of the lionesses struck a palm tree hard and lay still. Cabaro roared with the exertion, his eyes wide with fury, barely managing to hold on.
One eye on his wounded lionesses, Cabaro strained to stay locked onto the coiling and uncoiling snake. Then Gerathon went into a rapid twist, and Cabaro was thrown. Within an instant Gerathon’s hood was high above him, and she struck.
Cabaro dodged quickly enough to prevent her fangs from sinking into his throat, but the cobra still managed to bite deeply into his rear thigh. The giant lion whirled and bit into Gerathon’s hood, opening a deep gash in the scaly leather. Gerathon released him, and the moment Cabaro was free he leaped away — right between Rollan and Conor.
Panicked and snarling, Cabaro lunged at Conor first. The boy managed to roll away in the nick of time, bowling over Irtike and Snake Eyes in the process. The mole rat went flying, and Irtike scrambled after him on all fours. Then Cabaro streaked for the nearest way out of the clearing, swiping out viciously at the only thing in his path.
Rollan.
The world seemed to slow. The cat’s giant paw was headed right for him, as if Rollan had shrunk to the size of a common mouse. All he saw were the rough pads of Cabaro’s paw, the claws splaying out like daggers, coming nearer and nearer until it filled his vision.
Then, suddenly, he was spinning in the air.
At first all he was aware of was the blazing pain in his side. Then Rollan regained more of his senses, and discovered he was at the far shore of the lagoon. Disoriented, he shook his head and tried to stand.
Only to see a large shape barreling down on him.
“Hey —!” Rollan said, and then he was whisked into the air again. He bumped wildly against the ground as he was dragged, splashing through the water. He struggled furiously, dagger flailing, but couldn’t manage to connect with his captor.
“Put that thing away!” roared a gruff voice.
“Tarik?” Rollan said, astonished.
They disappeared into the greenery. “Get to your feet!” Tarik ordered, releasing the collar of Rollan’s shirt.
Rollan staggered up.
“Now,” Tarik said. “Run!”
They hurtled into the underbrush. “What … happened?” Rollan asked as they ran.
“Cabaro fled,” Tarik panted. “And Gerathon followed him … Lucky I got you away first.”
The tall man vaulted a fallen tree, and then reached back to assist Rollan. He continued speaking as they raced through the brush, his words fractured as Rollan struggled to stay near. “… split up. They went one way … and here we are.”
With a shriek and a crash, Essix broke through the oasis canopy and landed on Rollan’s shoulder. She called out, and Rollan stopped, searching around. Tarik held still beside him.
They’d reached the far side of the oasis. The trees disappeared, replaced by a spit of sand. A cliff face towered before them, at least fifty feet high, hugging the oasis. Rollan could tell from the relatively relaxed grip of Essix’s talons that they were out of immediate danger. “We’re not being followed,” he informed Tarik. “And it’s a good thing too, since we’re trapped.”
Tarik pointed to Essix. “Do you think you could —”
“On it,” Rollan said. “Essix, can you find Conor and Irtike?”
“And Cabaro,” Tarik added.
With a sharp cry, Essix took to the air.
“That means yes, I hope?” Tarik asked, watching Essix fly off.
“Yeah,” Rollan said, wincing at the pain in his ribs. “That means yes.”
Lumeo poked out of Tarik’s satchel and peered concernedly at Rollan’s side. “That looks bad,” Tarik said. “Would you let me look at it?”
“Don’t worry, it doesn’t feel too bad.” Rollan said. Then he looked at his torso and saw his shirt was gashed and bloody. Cabaro must have slashed him when he hurled him to one side. Only now that he was looking at it did the wound begin to throb with pain.
They heard a loud shriek from above. Rollan peered up at the sky and then back at Tarik, his wound temporarily forgotten. “Sounds like Essix found Conor and Irtike.”
From within the oasis they heard shouts and clashing steel, along with the angry yips of wild dogs. “I don’t hear the voices of anyone we know,” Tarik said, “which means it’s probably Cabaro’s forces attacking the Conquerors.”
Rollan closed his eyes and let his vision merge with Essix’s. He immediately felt a surge of relief when he saw what the falcon saw: Conor and Irtike were alive. At the edge of the oasis they must have found a route where the ground rose shallowly enough that they’d been able to climb up to the cliff top above. They ran along its edge, high over the oasis. Every step they took near the precipice sent rocks skittering down the sheer fifty-foot drop.
“Come on,” Rollan said, and took off. “At the far side of the oasis, there’s a trail leading up to the top. That’s where Conor and Irtike are.”
Rollan and Tarik took off along the bottom of the cliff, making good time on the barren ground. Soon the cliff opened on the left, where a rocky streambed carved through. It was a narrow canyon, nearly dark, but from what he’d seen t
hrough Essix’s eyes, Rollan suspected it would take them up to the top.
Rollan and Tarik hurried, scrambling over logs and bumping their knees on rocks. Essix soared above them, her urgent cries pulling them onward.
The canyon was tough going, but Rollan could sense it sloping upward. “We’re heading up!” he shouted to Tarik. “We’ll be out on the cliff top soon.”
“Then we’ll have a view of what’s going on in the oasis,” Tarik said, gasping as he struggled forward. From the security of Tarik’s satchel, Lumeo gave him encouraging squeaks.
There was a ribbon of sky above them, slowly widening as they ascended. “We’re getting nearer,” Rollan said. “Just a little farther now.”
Then Essix’s cry intensified into a shriek. Rollan looked up in alarm. A figure was at the top of the cliff, a dozen feet above. He was silhouetted by the sun, but the outline was unmistakable. Cabaro.
“Hurry,” Rollan said, dashing forward under the lion’s watchful eye. But then he heard a terrible grinding sound from above.
With a loud crash, the canyon went black.
Rollan was thrown from his feet, against Tarik. Together they tumbled to the rocky floor.
When the cloud of dust settled, Rollan saw what had happened: Cabaro had dropped a boulder on them. It was jagged and broad, and would easily have killed them if it had hit directly. But it hadn’t, and from what he’d seen of Cabaro’s agility, that had to have been his intention. What he’d done instead was block the way forward.
”He’s trapped us!” Rollan said. “But why trap us when he could have just aimed that boulder nearer and killed us instead?”
They heard grunting behind them, and skittering rocks. Like something huge was passing up the canyon toward them.
“Because he doesn’t need to kill us,” Tarik said. He loosened his curved sword in its scabbard. “Not if someone else will do it for him.”
“Oh, no,” Rollan said, withdrawing his dagger. “Gerathon?”
“Or Zerif,” Tarik said grimly. “Lumeo, we’ll need all the help we can get.”
The otter jumped out of Tarik’s satchel and circled around his feet, teeth bared.
The rumbling sound got louder. Rollan watched as a nearby rock trembled from the vibrations of the approaching enemy.
“Tarik,” Rollan said. “If that’s Gerathon, I don’t think we can take her on our own.”
Tarik lay a hand on Rollan’s shoulder. “We have to. So we will.”
One final rasping sound, and then Gerathon appeared from around the corner. The giant serpent nearly filled the canyon, only barely able to maneuver through. Gerathon read their perilous situation in an instant and streaked toward them, mouth terrifyingly wide, yellow fangs glistening.
Tarik took a fighting crouch, holding his curved blade in two hands. Lumeo scampered to the top of a boulder and reared on his back legs, ready to pounce. Essix landed on the boulder next to Lumeo, sharp beak open. Rollan stood with his dagger up and one leg lunged forward, bracing for impact. As much as it was worth, they were ready.
Then Rollan saw who was with Gerathon.
Around the corner, right at Gerathon’s tail, was Gar. The huge man with the horned helmet strode forward, nearly as fast as the giant serpent.
It would be Gerathon who hit them first, though, and with the might of a battering ram. Her body wound far from side to side, the better to work up more power to muscle forward.
Rollan’s will faltered. Gerathon and Gar: They really had no chance. There was no way to escape, and no way they could fend off these two. If Rollan had the Slate Elephant to enlarge Essix, or the Granite Ram to leap away, they could use them to run. But Conor had both. The only talisman Rollan had was the Coral Octopus.
At her current size, the falcon wouldn’t be able to do much more than harass their enemies. Unless Briggan or Uraza appeared out of nowhere, they were doomed.
When the serpent was only a second away, Rollan saw Gerathon shift so she was heading directly for him. Tarik saw it too, and before Rollan could react he’d lunged in front. It was hard to make anything out during the flash of impact, just black scales and brown flesh. Rollan heard an agonized cry, and realized with shock that Tarik had been bitten by the serpent’s enormous fang. A savage wound punctured his thigh.
“You must be Tarik,” a voice intoned, muffled but resonant behind the helmet.
Gerathon reared, her black hood nearly blotting out the sky, only a bare sliver of blue visible behind her. The elder Greencloak stood his ground, bleeding profusely from the wound on his leg. Already he was shuddering from the venom, his hands and legs tremoring. Rollan had seen such movements before. Early death throes.
“Tarik …” Rollan whimpered. “Tarik, hold on.”
Gar unfastened straps on either side of his helmet. “I’ve heard much about you. The stalwart Greencloak guardian, one of their finest warriors. I’ll admit, I had hoped to cross blades with you someday. I’d have preferred to fight you unhobbled by poison, but Gerathon was … eager.”
While Gar removed his helmet, Tarik turned so he faced Rollan. “Run!” he hissed. “Run while I delay them.”
Gar had it off now. He had large eyes, his skin pale and smooth, pinked across the nose and cheeks by the Niloan sun. His mouth was twisted with contempt. “Though you have failed to protect these children, you have at least fought with honor. I will make your death quick.”
While Gar held his greatsword high, Tarik’s shudders turned into convulsions. His face, normally tan and full of life, had become as gray as slate. He blinked once, twice, his eyes flicking to the boulder behind them, only sluggishly returning to Gar and Gerathon. “Rollan … the octopus.”
Of course. The Coral Octopus would allow Rollan to shrink and slip through a crevice. He might be able to use it to pass through the crack between the boulder and the canyon wall. But that would mean …
Gerathon hissed in fury and slithered forward, rocks grinding to dust beneath her massive body.
“Hold, Gerathon,” Gar called, raising his greatsword high. “This one is mine. We must retrieve the talisman, above all else. You go find Cabaro.”
“You will not order me around like a common soldier!” the Great Serpent hissed, her voice reverberating against the cavern walls. “I am not your subject, General.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Rollan whispered to Tarik, his dagger outstretched, so puny in the face of the combined might of Gar and Gerathon.
With great effort, Tarik managed to keep his sword raised against the enemy, its tip wildly trembling, drawing circles in the air. His eyes were glassy, but even so, they flashed with anger. “I’ll be dead in seconds. Go! Don’t let the last thing I see be losing you.”
Rollan fished the Coral Octopus out of his bag and held it in his fingers, his hands trembling so much he nearly dropped it.
Lumeo scampered from the boulder and stood on Tarik’s shoulder, teeth bared. Essix lunged into the air, doing her best to harry Gar. It was working for the moment — Gar feinted left and right, lashing out with the pommel of his sword, trying to avoid the bird’s outstretched talons. “Tarik!” Rollan sobbed. “Don’t do this.”
In desperation, Rollan tugged Tarik’s cloak toward the impassable boulder. With a snap, the clasp broke, and Rollan tumbled backward, the green fabric all that remained in his hands.
Tarik turned, sword in hand, and saw the cloak draped in Rollan’s arms. An unexpected expression passed over his face. Hope.
That moment of distraction was all the advantage Gar needed. He brought his two-handed sword whipping through the air at Tarik. Essix only barely escaped the slash, feathers flying as she wheeled into the sky. But she managed to snag Gar’s gloved hand as she went, and his mighty blade went wide. Gar readied his greatsword to strike again, grunting with exertion as he heaved the weapon high over his head.
With one hand Rollan gripped Tarik’s cloak, and with the other he clasped the Coral Octopus. The edges of Rollan’s vision wavered
, then he became liquid and limitless. Suddenly weightless, Rollan slipped toward the boulder. He arrived at the edge, and when it met the solid surface his body became ooze, slipping easily through the scant inches of space between boulder and cliff wall.
As soon as he was on the other side, Rollan let go of the Coral Octopus and felt his boundaries sharpen again. He got to his feet in the dark canyon. Rollan kneeled and stared through the few inches of space between the boulder and the cliff wall. It was too narrow to make out what was happening on the other side, but he heard grunts and metal clanging against metal. Then, after a gasp and a horrible grinding noise, everything went silent.
Rollan stared at the small patch of ground visible through the crack. All he could spy was a booted foot, motionless. He squinted, trying to figure out whose it was.
Rollan gasped as a large, furious eye filled his vision. He and Gar stared at each other, breathing hard, their faces inches apart. There was no way, even with Gerathon’s help, that Gar would be able to budge the boulder. Rollan was safe for now. But it meant little to him.
Because Tarik was dead.
Rollan heard a familiar chattering, and Gar suddenly whirled, disappearing from view. Lumeo was on the attack. Though he desperately maneuvered around the crack, Rollan could no longer see Gar and the otter. He heard scuffling, and Essix shrieking. Gerathon was moving too — Rollan could hear more rocks crunching under her massive bulk. Lumeo had to be more agile than Gar or even Gerathon, but in the face of their might, Rollan knew there was only one way this could end.
“Lumeo, get over here!” Rollan shouted. It was possible the otter might be able to fit through the gap between boulder and canyon wall. But there were only the sounds of continued fighting. Tears in his eyes, Rollan listened to the footfalls and grunting.
He heard an agonized cry from Lumeo.
Then there was silence.
With a familiar whoosh Essix landed on Rollan’s shoulder, her talons digging in. Rollan imagined what the falcon was telling him: They gave their lives to buy you extra seconds to survive. Don’t waste them.
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