by Adam Blade
“You die,” Varlot rumbled. “Sport for crow and worm.”
Varlot attacked again, Tanner dodged, tried to hit him, but in a flash of hooves, Tanner was forced back, panting. He’s too big, Tanner thought. Too fast. I can’t get close enough to hit him. What if I put on the mask? Tanner’s fingers brushed his belt, where the piece was hidden inside his tunic. No. What if I put it on and never want to take it off?
Lightning flashed and a shadow appeared behind Varlot. Nera slammed into him with Castor on her back, and as Nera jumped away, Castor called, “Tanner!” and lobbed a spear. It struck the dirt at Tanner’s feet.
“Press forward!” General Gor called. The two adjoining pieces of the mask clung to the left side of his face and chin, like skin with the color burned from it.
Soldiers rushed to cut off Nera. Tanner put his sword away and grabbed the spear in both hands. Near the castle, Falkor and Rufus were surrounded; behind Tanner, Firepos still fought; and Gulkien snarled near Gwen to keep the soldiers away as she struggled with her masked attacker. No time, Tanner thought. “Varlot!” he called.
Varlot’s voice rasped, “I enjoy —”
“No more.” Tanner jabbed the spear, but Varlot batted it aside. Tanner twisted the spear free and stabbed again: He hit Varlot’s chest armor with a clink that drove Varlot back a step. Tanner stabbed again, but Varlot blocked once, twice, and on the third thrust, Tanner drew his sword with one hand and lunged, driving it into Varlot’s wrist.
The blade cut deep. Varlot bellowed, dropped his club, and Tanner ran the spear into the base of Varlot’s mask. The armor-edge cut against the spear so the point sliced wide in a bloody gash, and as Tanner moved in with his sword, Varlot’s body contorted, shrank. The human part — his arms and chest — were sinking in, becoming a horse’s neck, and his faceless mask stretched long into an animal head. He’s wounded, Tanner realized. He’s losing his strength, shrinking. But for how long? Tanner was all too aware of Varlot’s ability to heal himself.
Varlot punched, and when Tanner ducked, he jabbed his spear left. Varlot dodged right, into Tanner’s sword. The blade sliced through the rain toward Varlot’s exposed neck. Tanner was about to defeat this evil Beast once and for all, when the world flashed white. Fire flooded Tanner’s skull. Firepos! Something was happening to his Beast. Tanner heard himself screaming as he fell to his knees.
Blinking through the pain, Tanner saw Firepos on the outer wall, facing General Gor. The general raised his barbed harpoon into the rain and shouted a wordless war cry. Firepos writhed, as if something had lodged under her wing in the scar, where her feathers had been ripped — as if it were dragging her down.
It’s the old scar. It pains me again. Tanner could see his companion struggling to spread her wings, failing to hook the general with her beak. Despite her great size, she looked suddenly vulnerable as her feathers turned to a dull brown. The light in her eyes grew dim and fresh pain throbbed in Tanner’s head. Somehow, Derthsin had sent his evil power to hurt Firepos — and Tanner, too. Just in time to help them lose this battle.
Across the space between them, Tanner looked into the flame bird’s wide, terrified eyes. I’m sorry, she seemed to say.
I thrash as white-hot barbs sink deeper under my wing, in the scar. When I move, pain floods my mind. General Gor laughs, his harpoon aimed at my neck, but he is not looking at me. Below, Tanner has his sword at Varlot’s throat. Somehow, Tanner has beaten that unnatural Beast — he broke Varlot and is ready to finish him, even as my pain snaps through the rain and shocks him.
Tanner tries to blink away the fire, but I know he feels it. I am so close to General Gor, I can crush him with my beak, but when I straighten, the invisible snares bite hard. I cry out. The stench of evil magic tastes like mold. This is not Gor’s doing. He is a soldier, that’s all. This is old magic. As the scar drags me down, pain blocks everything out, and when I shriek, I see Tanner double over in the courtyard, soaked and dripping. He looks at me, desperate. I’m sorry, I try to tell him with my mind. I am so sorry.
Tanner held his sword to Varlot’s neck and grimaced into the flashes of pain that spotted his vision. He gasped misty breaths of rain, the cold water still pounding in steady sheets, but nothing could dampen the rage that still enflamed him.
General Gor laughed. “Well done, boy. But you cannot kill Varlot.”
Behind Tanner, he heard the clicking slither of Falkor approaching.
“Let’s find out,” Tanner said. Blood trickled down Varlot’s chest, but in another moment, the Beast would heal. I have to do this now, Tanner thought.
“Lord Derthsin has your Beast,” General Gor said, nodding to Firepos. “Derthsin can smash her like an insect. His hold over her, through old scars, is great. Your Beast never should have carried him to the volcano.”
Tanner clenched his fists. Anger welled in his chest. The pain only made it worse, and when Firepos struggled again, Tanner pressed the blade deeper into Varlot’s neck. “I’ll cut his throat!” Varlot’s nostrils flared, but he knew better than to fight while he still dripped blood and Tanner held his blade close to his throat.
Gor smiled. “You don’t understand. Now drop your sword, boy.”
There must be a way, Tanner thought, and he looked around frantically. In the raging storm, Castor and Nera had beaten back the soldiers, but Tanner couldn’t see what was happening in the mass of soldiers around Gwen and Gulkien. There must be …
Rufus stepped beside Tanner, raising his glowing hand to Firepos. Firepos saw him, too, and when she buckled, Tanner reached out to stop Rufus. “No!” Too late: A beam of blue light jetted out of Rufus’s fingers, scalding the rain, jolting Rufus backward. The light flashed past Firepos’s face in an explosion of white sparks that knocked General Gor back and sent Firepos screeching into the air. She screamed a surprised, thrilling war cry. She was free!
In the blast, the soldiers scattered, and Varlot, whose armor had melted back to a horse’s glossy coat, kicked free of Tanner and charged for a gap in the wall. I have to let him go, Tanner thought, sprinting across the courtyard puddles to the steps. He bounded up onto the outer wall. The mask was all that mattered.
As Tanner reached the top, General Gor said, “You poor little fool. You have no idea….”
Tanner pivoted, feet steady on the slippery stone, and when Gor’s harpoon came down, Tanner grabbed it and yanked. Gor stumbled forward, and Tanner drove his sword into Gor’s face: The blade caught the edge of his cheek, splitting the two mask pieces in a bloody gash. Gor screamed, reached up, but Tanner’s hand was already there. He caught the dangling mask. Gor punched Tanner’s shoulder, but Tanner didn’t let go, and both pieces of the mask ripped away. Tanner staggered back, his shoulder throbbing.
Three pieces, Tanner thought. I’ve got them. There’s only one more left! General Gor touched the cheek wound and glanced at his bloody fingertips. When he looked back at Tanner, Gor’s eyes had changed. He smiled, as if he was impressed. As if Tanner was suddenly more interesting. Without lowering his sword, Tanner slipped the blood-smeared mask pieces into his tunic, alongside the one he already had. Gor didn’t speak, just smiled and slowly backed away, toward the edge of the wall. His arms and legs throbbing with exhaustion, Tanner followed. Firepos was safe, soaring high above him.
The general climbed onto the rampart, his back to the mountain slope on the other side. “Retreat!” he yelled at his soldiers. “Fall back!”
Castor was shouting, but Tanner couldn’t make out the words through the rain. He saw Gwen circling the masked attacker in the mud below. She needs help, Tanner thought. One of us has to get down there.
Icy water dripped down Tanner’s neck. His joints ached, stiff and raw. He glanced at Castor again. He was standing over a body, his dagger clutched in one hand.
“Go to Gwen!” Tanner called over. “You’re closer than I am.” Castor spotted her standoff with the man in the mask, then sent Tanner a swift nod and began leaping over rocks toward her.
And now to finish with you, Tanner thought, focusing back on Gor.
The general chuckled. “Someday,” he said, “someday I will kill you.” Before Tanner had a chance to do anything, the general stepped off into the empty air. Tanner rushed to the wall: On the mountainside below, General Gor had landed on his varkule’s back. He was already riding away, surrounded by soldiers. And there was Varlot beside him. “You don’t know what’s coming, boy!” Gor called. “You can’t win!”
Tanner ran for the steps. The army was retreating. The soldiers were scattering in every direction, escaping out of the gaps in the perimeter wall.
“They’re getting away!” Castor shouted from where he stood beside Gwen. He had the tip of his sword trained on the masked soldier, who stood at a safe distance, his own weapon braced before his body. Gwen held an ax in each hand, her face unmoving as she stared at the man they’d cornered.
Tanner jumped down the steps three at a time. “I know,” Tanner said. “Finish him!” He pointed his sword at the masked soldier.
Suddenly, Gwen shouted. While Tanner had been talking, the masked soldier had lunged toward her, pinning her to the mud. Castor didn’t dare throw his dagger, for fear of harming Gwen. Gulkien leaped forward to help, and Gwen shoved her attacker back, rolling across the courtyard. In the skirmish, she’d lost the axes she’d been holding. The others glinted at her waist — useless there. She had no chance to bring them out, and her cloak was twisted around her torso, making it impossible to retrieve her hidden rapier.
“He needs to die!” Tanner shouted angrily, and he ran with Castor to Gwen. Firepos and Nera were cawing and pacing nearby as Gulkien snapped at the masked attacker and pulled back, afraid of biting Gwen.
“I’ll stop this,” Castor said. He jumped in and grabbed the masked attacker from behind. The soldier jammed his head back into Castor’s nose, and Castor fell backward in the mud, his face covered in blood.
Rufus and Falkor came to Tanner. “What in all of Avantia is happening?” Rufus asked.
“What does it look like?” Tanner snapped as he helped Castor up.
Gwen and the attacker rolled close. Tanner aimed his sword, but they were moving too fast, even with his new abilities. He couldn’t risk hitting Gwen. The masked soldier slammed Gwen onto her back again. She cried out. He grabbed her locket and as he started to pull, she kicked him off. His hand caught her throat. When they started to fall, Gwen pulled back, letting the locket break free — and when the attacker’s grip loosened, she drove her ax into his chest. The masked soldier collapsed. One of his legs twisted the wrong way, as if the joint had been broken. Gwen pried her locket out of his hand — her ax still planted in his chest, like a tree stump.
Rufus stepped closer to Gwen. “Who was that?”
Gwen fit the locket back onto her necklace and slipped it under her tunic. Tanner noticed how badly her hands trembled.
“Just a soldier,” Castor said. “Come on. We’ve got what we needed — the mask. Let’s get off this mountain.”
Tanner nodded and started to turn. Gwen cried out. It was a high, feral noise, as if she’d been stabbed. He’s not dead, Tanner thought, and he ran back.
Gwen had peeled back the folds of the attacker’s mask, and now she slumped over him, sobbing. Gulkien growled over her.
“What?” Castor said. “Is she hurt? Gwen?”
She shook and beat her fist on the soldier’s chest.
Tanner took Gwen’s shoulders and gently eased her away from the body. She was smeared with blood and bits of rotting skin. Tanner saw it: The soldier’s face was bloody, missing sections of flesh, exposing his cheekbones and grinning teeth, but Tanner still recognized the blue eyes and round chin.
“I’m sorry,” Tanner said. Gwen was still crying, hysterical.
It was her brother, Geffen.
As Tanner led Gwen away, Castor grabbed her ax and pulled it from Geffen’s chest. Tanner shuddered and turned away. Now that the battle was over, he’d lost his appetite for blood. Through gaps in the wall, he could see soldiers retreating at the bottom of the valley. They might already be on their way to the next piece of the mask, he thought. But he was too exhausted to chase after them. Nera came to Castor, but as he grabbed her fur to climb up, Geffen stirred.
“Stand back!” Tanner shouted.
Gwen shook Tanner away and ran to her brother. She crouched at Geffen’s side. He coughed blood and started to sit up. The veins in his neck were green, pulsing with rot. Gulkien bared his fangs and pushed between Geffen and Gwen. Nera growled beside Firepos, and Falkor hissed low, his eyes locked on Geffen.
“He is full of evil magic,” Rufus said. “It has brought him back from the dead. He is no longer one of us.”
Castor glanced at Rufus. “Thanks, I think we can all see that.”
Geffen reached for Gwen, and Tanner drew his sword. “Gwen!”
She took Geffen’s hand. “It’s all right. Geffen, can you hear me?”
His head hung slack on his neck, his flesh wet and crumbling in the rain. “Sorry.” His voice stretched. “Gwen …”
She pulled him close, and he slumped onto her knee. “It’ll be all right,” she said. “We’ll fix this, we’ll find a way. What did he do to you?”
Geffen drew her hand to his chest, and when he pressed her palm flat, blood oozed through his black tunic.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why don’t I feel your heartbeat? Geffen, tell me what to do.”
“He … took my life,” Geffen said. “He took my heart, and he … laughed.”
Gwen fought back tears. “It’ll be fine. We’re stronger than him. We can find a way….”
“I think,” Geffen said. “I think … I died. He woke me…. I was sleeping, dead…. He wanted your locket…. He wanted you to see me like this. All I feel is pain….”
“No,” Gwen said. “You’re alive, you’re talking!”
Slowly, Geffen pulled away from her and climbed to his feet. His joints cracked as he tried to steady himself. Gwen looked at Tanner, Castor, and Rufus. “What can we do?” she said. “Help me! Geffen, sit down!” She held his hand, as Geffen hobbled toward a gap in the wall. “Please listen to me….”
“I am sorry,” he said. “You are stronger. You have to stay alive, Gwen.”
“No, we can help you!”
At the edge of the courtyard, Geffen twisted away from her and staggered over the blocks, through the hole in the wall. They ran after him, and as Tanner came through the wall, he saw Gwen chasing her brother to the edge of the mountain. Geffen climbed onto a ledge: a cliff overlooking a straight drop to sharp rocks far below. Gwen screamed in the rain. Geffen looked back at her, said something, and stepped off. He disappeared over the side. Tanner caught Gwen as she raced after him.
“No!” she shouted. “He’s alive!”
Tanner held Gwen at the ledge. Below, Geffen’s body was a black smudge, broken on the rocks. Tanner pulled her back, and Castor came to them, Rufus behind him. Castor touched Gwen’s shoulder, and she slumped to the rock.
Gulkien edged past Tanner, sat at Gwen’s side, and reared back to howl. Gwen stroked Gulkien’s fur, staring blankly over the ledge. She glanced back, saw Rufus leaning against the castle wall, Falkor at his side. The rain began to thin, and the clouds were giving way to night stars over the distant mountains.
“It’s all right,” Tanner said. They were all bloody, bruised, and soaked through, caked in mud. “Rufus, we understand if you and your Beast have been through enough. If you want to go back, we can show you the way to Colton so you can find your sister.”
Falkor flicked his tongue and hissed low, as if he didn’t like the taste of Tanner’s words. Firepos sat on the outer wall, watching over them, and Nera paced behind Castor, her eyes on the valley below, as if she were impatient to move on.
Rufus smiled grimly. “No, I can’t go. There’s nothing for me.” He waved his hand, and in the rain, Tanner saw a vision of the low slope of a
pasture, and there was the girl, Isadora, carrying her sack of food. The image danced and swam. Rufus’s sister paused at the top of the hill and waved to people in the near distance, where Tanner could see the outline of Colton. Rufus lowered his hand: The picture was gone.
Castor said, “Why didn’t you tell us you could do that?”
“You didn’t ask,” Rufus said. “But as you saw, my sister is safe for now. If I go back, it would endanger her. She’s better off without me.” He approached Tanner, and the rain stopped. “Give me the mask, Tanner.”
Castor stepped close to Rufus, bristling. “Who do you think you are? You can’t just demand the pieces. We’ve fought hard for those and we follow Tanner, not you!”
This was the first time Tanner had ever heard Castor swear his loyalty to him. Despite their differences, Tanner found himself smiling with pleasure. His body was stiff, his muscles sore, and blood streaked his skin — but for a moment, the fleeting warmth of happiness moved over him. I never thought I’d have Castor swearing allegiance, he thought.
“I am a wizard,” Rufus said simply. “And I’m stronger than any of you — even if I don’t always look it. The mask will be safest with me. The pieces are too dangerous for you to hold, Tanner.” He held out a hand, palm up, and waited. Rufus’s eyes were locked on Tanner’s and Tanner found it hard to look away.
“You told me to wear it,” Tanner said. “It was your idea.” Some instinct told him that this boy knew more about the mask than he was letting on.
Rufus nodded. “In the time of greatest need, yes. But the pieces are too strong for a boy, for a mere mortal like you.”
As Castor burst into laughter, Tanner said, “A mere mortal?”
Gwen said, “Tanner …”
“No! What do you mean, Rufus? Do you think I’m weak?”
Rufus shrugged. “I’m sorry, Tanner.”
Castor raised his sword. “If you’re so powerful, let’s find out what happens when I stick this sword down your —”