by Adam Blade
As their Beasts attacked Varlot, Tanner turned to the river. Gwen stood thigh-deep in rushing water, her cloak streaming out behind her in the current. In each hand she held an ax, the blades flashing in the sunlight. The men had let go of the girl, and she was now dragging herself through the water toward Gwen.
“Look!” Tanner called to the men, pointing at the evil Beast. “That is the enemy of Avantia! That is what evil looks like. You’re blind if you can’t see it.”
The men murmured nervously, and Castor pushed past Tanner, waving his sword at them. “Follow the others. Go home!” When they hesitated, Castor charged into the river like a madman, lashing the air with his blade. “Go!”
The men clambered up the slippery banks, running for the nearby hills.
Tanner started to go to Gwen and the girl when Castor shouted and went after Varlot again. Doesn’t he have any sense? Tanner thought.
Varlot snapped his whip over Castor’s head. Nera let out a ferocious, protective roar and pounced on Varlot’s back. Varlot lunged, taking her by surprise, and she flopped backward in a cloud of dust. Firepos dove for Varlot’s face. We’ll break him! Tanner felt his Beast say. Tanner ran forward, wanting to warn Firepos. Be careful! Too late — Varlot sent out a fist, connecting with Firepos below her wing: her old wound. She shrieked and spun, her wings flailing.
Tanner’s vision became blurry, and Firepos’s pain flooded his stomach. He doubled over, dropping his sword. He tried to look up: A blurry hoof swung toward his face, and a shape — Castor — lunged and swiped it with his sword. Through bright, swimming spots, Tanner saw the flash of spinning metal as Varlot knocked Castor away, moving too quickly for the good Beasts to stop him.
Tanner reached for his sword. Varlot loomed toward him on bronze hooves, a huge shadow against the clouds.
“Fool!” he spat, raising a giant fist.
It’s too late, Tanner thought. But as he clutched his chest, his fingers brushed something glass beneath his tunic: the vial. I don’t have a choice: I have to try. I have to do this for the sake of Avantia. I have to trust that Hilda was speaking the truth before Vendrake possessed her. He fumbled, pulled out the cork, and raised the red liquid to his lips….
I taste salt and something else: a tang of iron. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and swallow, dragging the back of my hand across my mouth.
My eyes snap open as I feel my pulse quicken, my heart beating so strongly that it’s almost coming out of my chest.
What have I done?
I gaze around me with new eyes, pulling back my shoulders. The fear that flickered at the edge of my vision ever since Esme’s death — it’s gone. I want to do battle, to lunge with my sword, and see the red trickle of death at its point. I am a warrior, ready to fight. I’ve never felt it so strongly.
I am Tanner, son of Forton. I’m unstoppable.
“Come here and fight me!” I call out.
But panic comes next. This can’t be right, can it? To be so brave that I’d throw myself into battle, recklessly ready to die? I slow my breathing, shift the weight of my sword in my hand. That vial contained an unnatural strength. It flows in my veins now.
Varlot reared back to face Tanner. “Thief!” he cried.
Thief? Tanner thought, shaking his head clear. He threw the vial aside. Looking back, he met Gwen’s glance. She stood in the river with the girl. Gwen had saved her, but what was the terror Tanner saw in her face? Tanner followed Gwen’s stare down: The back of his hand was smeared with blood. Blood? The vial — what did Hilda give me? For a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut as the horror hit him. He should never have drunk the liquid. Those sensations that had coursed through him — they weren’t human.
I made the wrong choice, he thought, angry with himself. But it was too late now.
When he looked back up he saw Nera on Varlot’s left, crouched into a hunting pose, ready to strike. Gulkien rose to his right, and Firepos sat directly behind him. She flapped and tested her wings, as if she were still in pain.
“Beast’s blood,” Varlot said. “You drank a Beast’s spilled blood!” Then he looked at Firepos and let out a huge roar of laughter.
“What do you mean? How can you know that?” Tanner asked desperately. I can’t believe it, he thought. I’m asking Varlot to tell me the truth about myself.
Abruptly, Varlot stopped laughing and turned to Firepos, who watched silently.
“Can’t you guess, you dumb Beast? Are you so slow? The Gathering of Five …”
How can he know about that? I feel my mind turn over as I remember. He talks of the momentous day when five Beasts gathered, back before we were first torn asunder. Nera, Gulkien, Falkor, and I gave gladly of our blood in order to power Anoret. How could we have known that our loyal leader would be torn from us? The blood once collected to give power to another … where did it go?
I look at Tanner, hastily closing my thoughts to him. The vial … no!
Has he drunk the blood of a Beast — my blood? Does that explain the twisted surge of powers I felt in him? If so, then Varlot is right to mock. A Beast’s blood should never run in a rider’s veins. I will be weakened, and Tanner is … I dare not even think it. But my rider is no longer the boy who once sobbed beside his dead father’s body. He’s something else entirely.
Tanner watched his Beast writhe as though trying to escape something. He’d heard her reliving the start of her story, about a gathering of five Beasts, but then she’d closed her mind to him.
What is it? Tell me! He sent the message hurtling through the air toward her. But there was no answering message. Firepos was keeping her thoughts secret.
Furiously, Tanner turned to Varlot, who reared above him.
“You tell me, then!” he challenged.
Varlot raised a fist and pointed to Firepos. “You drank her blood. You have some of the powers of a Beast!”
Gwen had run up from the river. “What does he mean?” she said. “What’s wrong with Firepos?”
Tanner couldn’t answer her. He felt anger welling in his chest, flooding past the nausea and horror.
You, he thought, and steadied his sword toward Derthsin’s creature. I am going to kill you. If he had the powers of a Beast, then he’d use them.
Tanner threw himself at Varlot, striking out with his sword so that the blade rang off a panel of the Beast’s armor. But Tanner didn’t feel thwarted; he felt a stubborn determination to keep on fighting. Varlot sent a massive fist swinging through the air toward him and Tanner just managed to duck out of range, hurling himself onto the ground. Within moments he was back up, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“By Avantia, I’ll see you fall!” he called up. But even as the last words left his mouth, Varlot’s eyes narrowed and his fist made a low swing through the air, cracking into Tanner’s chin and sending him flying. Pain shot through his skull and he landed badly, shaking his head clear. I might have some of Firepos’s powers, he thought. But I’m still nowhere near as strong as Varlot. Carefully, he climbed to his feet, listening to his body for torn muscles or broken bones. Fortunately, he still seemed able to move.
You must manage your new powers, Firepos told him. Don’t become reckless.
Tanner sent a message back through the pain. Hurt Varlot. Do what you must.
Firepos silently rose above Varlot. Nera and Gulkien creeped behind him. Varlot was still gloating, confident in his great strength.
A fireball immediately blossomed in his Beast’s talons. Gulkien swooped onto Varlot’s back, slamming him off balance, and Nera tackled his face, claws slashing and stabbing between his armor. Varlot groaned and fought back — and Firepos dropped a ball of flame.
“Get back!” Tanner shouted to his friends. He, Castor, and Gwen dove aside as the fire erupted across Varlot, exploding in a flash of yellow heat and smoke. The blast scorched black, smoking rings into the dirt. As the smoke cleared, Tanner saw Varlot doubled over, his jaw clenched. His burns were already beginning to fade.
&
nbsp; “No!” Tanner shouted. “Don’t let him heal!”
Limping, Varlot ran toward a distant hill. Firepos dropped so Tanner could climb onto her back, and Gwen hurried onto Gulkien’s fur, while Castor ran to Nera. Firepos flew after Varlot, with Gulkien and Gwen right behind. Still bloodied and weak, Varlot saw them coming. He dropped to all fours and ran, transforming back into a magnificent stallion. His arms became legs and he picked up speed. They followed him to the top of a hill, and on the other side, Varlot leaped high over the next valley, clearing trees and streams.
Their Beasts were exhausted, weak from the fight, and Varlot was galloping too fast. Below, Castor sat on Nera’s back atop the hill, and Gulkien slowed in the air beside Firepos, their wings beating steadily. They watched helplessly as Varlot disappeared over the horizon. Tanner loosened his grip on Firepos’s feathers.
“It’s all over,” he called to the others. “Retreat!”
At the edge of the river, Gwen helped the girl up. Tanner’s breathing returned to normal and his pulse had slowed. The power of the blood melted away, and he felt like his normal self.
Drenched in mud and river water, the girl’s red hair clung to her face in dirty streaks. She was shivering, wiping tears from her cheeks.
“It’s all right,” Gwen said, helping the girl sit down on a rock beside Tanner and Castor. “They’re gone — you’re safe now.”
“I couldn’t breathe,” the girl said. “They just … all I could taste was water.”
With her rapier, Gwen cut the girl’s hand bindings and sliced the rope off her neck. The girl watched with wide eyes as Gwen hid the rapier, with its cross guard like an open wolf’s jaw, back in the lining of her cloak.
The girl was younger than them, maybe ten or eleven years old. “What’s your name?” Tanner asked gently.
“Isadora,” she said. She pulled away from them. “I swear to you, I’m not a witch. I didn’t speak to a demon. I never —”
“We know you’re no witch,” Castor said.
“It’s just the people around you, panicking,” Tanner added. “Derthsin’s rumors of witchcraft are helping him spread evil through Avantia.”
The girl rubbed her wrists and took a deep breath. Her hands were still shaking. “Thank you.”
“Do you have somewhere you can go?” Gwen asked.
Isadora shook her head, tears in her eyes again. “My own mother wouldn’t look at me. She locked me out of the house when they came for me.”
Castor balled his fists and his expression darkened. “Who?” he said. “Who came for you?”
“Our Bone Mother, Hilda, and Worrick, our leader. My brother — I don’t know where he is — they dragged him out of the village with a rope around his neck. We weren’t the only ones. I saw some others drown.” Isadora covered her face as she started to cry. “The men held them under the river until they stopped moving, and nobody buried the bodies, they just …”
Gwen knelt and put her arms around Isadora. “It’s over now.” Castor stood rigidly beside them, his chest heaving, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
“Do you have anyone else?” Tanner asked, shifting his gaze from Castor’s face. “Is there someplace you can go?”
“Colton,” Castor said, suddenly brightening. “If you give them my name — tell them Castor sent you. Here!” He hastily tore off a strip from his sleeve and tapped the diamond-shaped stitching, his eyes feverishly bright. “They’ll recognize this symbol. You have to go there to be safe.” He shoved the scrap of fabric into the girl’s hands.
“Castor,” the girl repeated.
“I’ll draw you a map,” Gwen said, “but you’ll need food….”
“The caravan,” Tanner said. “There might be enough supplies back at the merchant caravan. I can —”
“I’ll do it,” Castor offered.
“You don’t have to, Castor,” Tanner said.
“Yes,” Castor said. “I do. I need to.” He had already climbed onto Nera and now he turned his face away. She raced across the field, her fur rippling, and disappeared over the brow of a hill.
Need to? What’s that mean? Tanner watched his friend depart. Why did he say that, and why wasn’t he able to look at me? There’s more to our friend than preening arrogance, he thought. There was mystery lurking beneath Castor’s shallow waters.
Gwen had settled cross-legged on the ground. She opened a blank parchment and with a narrow quill and tiny bottles of colored ink, she carefully sketched a map, pointing out key landmarks on the way to Colton. She was just finishing when Nera and Castor returned.
Castor tossed Isadora a satchel. “Food and fresh water,” he said. “It’ll get you to Colton.”
Isadora slung the satchel over her shoulder and rolled up the map. “I don’t know how to thank you for this,” she said. “If you hadn’t …” She hugged Gwen, then Tanner, and waved up at Castor, who was still sitting on Nera’s back. “I won’t forget this,” she said.
“You don’t owe us anything, just be careful,” Tanner said.
Isadora smiled. “Don’t worry, I will be. But one day I will return this favor.”
As Isadora walked away, the three companions dipped their weapons into the Winding River, cleaning them of Varlot’s blood.
Gwen’s mouth was set in a firm line. “Now that we’re alone again, can we talk? What we saw in Hartwell, was it real or a vision? Vendrake torturing Geffen after death, making him still fight. He was hurting him, even after everything he’s suffered, keeping him half-alive….” She couldn’t say the words. “It was real, wasn’t it? And what about you? It was blood in that vial, wasn’t it? Is it true what Varlot said — that you’ve drunk Firepos’s blood? I saw how you lunged at Varlot. You were desperate to kill him!”
“I feel braver,” Tanner admitted. “When Varlot was mocking Firepos about the Gathering of Five, I was able to see into her thoughts. Well, at first I could — but then she closed her mind to me. Firepos and the other Beasts gathered with Anoret — the Beast behind the Mask of Death. They were going to give Anoret their blood so that she could be stronger for something. I couldn’t see anything beyond that, but …” Did Tanner dare put his worst fears into words? “I think you’re right. I drank her blood and I’ve inherited Firepos’s powers. Except, the blood wasn’t meant for me.” He looked into Gwen’s face. “There might be consequences.”
Gwen crumpled, as if he’d pushed her. “What is Derthsin doing to us?” she cried. “Where is this going to end?” She covered her face with both hands. Tanner could do nothing but watch.
This is all part of your fate, came a message. We must both accept it. Gwen, too. Firepos was watching him from a distance, her feathers glowing with tiny flames.
“Fate!” Tanner cried, making Gwen suddenly look up. “I’m sick of being told what path my life should take! Firepos, Esme, everyone. Why can’t I choose for myself?”
Tanner looked back at Castor. So far, he hadn’t said a word. And what are his secrets? Tanner thought angrily.
Gulkien moved to sit beside Gwen, pressing his fur against her arms, and when he made a low noise, she turned. She buried her face in his fur, and slowly her shoulders stopped shaking. Her breathing steadied, and she got up and looked at them. Gwen’s face was red and wet, but there were no more tears in her eyes — they looked different, as if she were staring straight through Tanner and Castor at something ugly in the distance. Gwen’s lips set in a narrow line, unsmiling.
“Derthsin won’t win,” she said quietly.
The empty way she said it made Tanner shiver. It was as if she had given up a part of herself, torn it out because it was too weak.
“No,” Tanner said, “he won’t. But we’re running out of time. We have to find the pieces of the mask.” He walked with Gwen toward their Beasts. “You saved Isadora, Gwen. If you hadn’t done that …”
“Isadora is alive because of me,” Castor said.
Tanner took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “We all saved her,”
he said.
“Oh, did we? You wanted to talk Varlot to death while they drowned her, remember?”
“And you wanted to fight him single-handed,” Tanner said. “Remember? You charged at him before we could figure out a plan. We almost died because of you.”
Nera flashed teeth like pointed razors, and Firepos shrieked, opening her wings.
There was a hiss of metal, and suddenly Castor was holding the point of his blade before Tanner’s face. He always had been quick. “You’re not strong enough to fight me.”
Tanner drew his own sword. “Let’s find out.”
Gwen lunged between them. She held blades to each of their throats, close enough that if they moved, she’d kill them both. The blades were shiny and grooved with concentric patterns. “No,” Gwen said. The dead way she stared at them broke their anger. “This stops now. You’re not going to fight.”
Castor tried to smile. “Get that away from my throat.”
“Is this a game to you?” Gwen said, and slowly, she lowered her axes. “If you want to fight, go home. Go back with Isadora, Castor. Tanner, go sit in your village with the graves. Go and wait until Avantia dies, wait until you see Derthsin’s soldiers on the next hill or at the edge of whatever field you’re sitting in. Wait until the sky turns black. Let him win.”
They lowered their swords. Tanner’s muscles were already stiffening from the fight against Varlot.
“Come on,” Tanner said. “We need to find the next piece of the mask. This is why we’re doing all this, isn’t it?”
Nera snorted and backed away. Tanner climbed onto Firepos’s back. It was time to go.