Drawing on the power Falk poised himself. The horse was just metres away. The Rider’s eyes were fixed on him, the dragon sword already scything a path through the air in front of him. Falk stood his ground until the last moment and then he rolled sideways, the Rider’s blade sweeping the now empty space above. Falk slashed at the horse’s legs as it passed but armour deflected his strike. The horse was rearing, the Rider turning, his sword arcing back down through the sky. The momentum of Falk’s roll carried him upright and he turned, raising his sword just in time to meet the Rider’s attack. The blades clashed, sparks flying as the razor sharp cutting surfaces collided. Falk fell to one knee, beaten down by the bone jarring impact. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the horse’s hooves strike the ground all around Alex and his stomach twisted, but by some miracle she remained unharmed.
The Rider pulled viscously on the warhorse’s reins. The great beast reared up again, twisting towards Falk, the sky in front of him suddenly filled with deadly flailing hooves. Falk ducked and fell away to his left, feeling the rush of air across the back of his head where a hoof had nearly decapitated him. The ground shook as the beast’s front legs fell back onto the earth. Regaining his balance but still crouched low on the ground Falk stabbed desperately upwards trying to force the horse away from Alex. Then the Rider was attacking again, swinging viciously down with his sword. Falk barely deflected the blow and was knocked backwards, his sword flying from his hand. In a blur of movement the Rider had already jumped from his horse and was bearing down on Falk before he could even react. Instinct made Falk roll to one side with the last of his effort, the Rider’s sword impacting into the frozen ground where his head had been a split second before. Kicking out Falk’s boot connected with the Rider’s knee but the man only grunted before his other leg was swinging round and kicking Falk in the stomach. Winded and doubled over in pain Falk looked up as the Rider raised his sword for the fatal strike.
Vicky struggled, kicking and biting as powerful hands wrapped around her and pulled her bodily from the wardrobe. A moment later she felt the floor under her feet and she kicked out again, her foot connect with something hard. Above her the uncle winced in pain and then his hand shot out, slapping her across the cheek. The sound ricocheted around the room like a pistol shot. Motionless now, Vicky stared up at him in stunned silence. With his other hand still gripping her upper arm the uncle leaned forward, his eyes grim.
‘Where is the key?’ he asked.
‘Leave me alone,’ Vicky cried as her cheek began to sting. She shrank back as his face came closer.
‘This is your last chance,’ he growled menacingly.
Trembling Vicky shook her head.
‘I threw it away.’
He raised his hand and slapped her again. Slowly she turned her head back to look at him. Her tears began to sting as they flowed down the inflamed skin but she did not make a sound.
‘You do not know what you are meddling with you stupid girl,’ he roared, his face inches from hers. He raised his hand again. ‘Now where is the key?’
‘Uncle Tom!’ shouted a voice. Terrified Vicky turned to see the boy Robert standing in the doorway, his eyes wide open in shock. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Get out of here,’ the man shouted. Just then a sudden volley of barks, yelps and viscous snarls erupted from outside. Cursing, he dragged Vicky to the window as he strained to see what was happening. Robert ran forward, grabbing his uncle’s arm and shaking it.
‘She’s just a girl Uncle Tom,’ he cried out.
The uncle pushed him away savagely with his free hand and the boy stumbled and fell against the wall.
Vicky’s eyes went from the boy, who was now staring at his uncle in fear, to her parents sleeping soundly not half a metre away from her, and then to her mother’s bedside table. Sitting just out of reach was a silver broach. The pin had come undone and now lay open, the inch long needle pointing towards her. Just then, more snarling erupted, above which came the heavy bark of the uncle’s dog.
‘Damn foxes,’ the man cried out. ‘They’ll tear him apart.’
Before she could think better of it Vicky pulled herself forwards, reaching out with her right hand to grab the broach.
‘Be still,’ the man began to shout down, his head turning towards her just in time to see the blur of silver as Vicky stabbed the pin as hard as she could into the side of his thigh.
He cried out in pain, his grip on Vicky’s arm lessoning for an instant.
‘Run,’ shouted Robert.
‘The key,’ she cried back at him as she pulled free. ‘It’s in the wardrobe.’ Robert looked to the wardrobe, the door half open. The girl was nearly there but if she stopped rather than run out the room she would not make it, and that was exactly what was going to happen for, as his uncle recovered from the shock, he had already started to lunge forward. Without thinking Robert put out his foot, catching his uncle’s back leg. The man tripped and fell forward, crashing against the side of the bed. Vicky jumped in fright at the noise as she dived into the wardrobe. Frantically she grabbed the key from behind the shoe where she had hidden it and then backed out again. The uncle was already pushing himself up, the full force of his fury evident in his eyes. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ his spat, his hand shooting out towards Vicky’s ankle as she tried to run away. She thought she had made it but then she felt something pull against her heel.
Vicky stumbled and fell forward. Instinctively she put her hands out to try and break the fall and as she tumbled to the ground the key slipped out of her hand and slid away from her across the floor. Robert had already jumped past her and now grabbed her hand, pulling her away from his uncle.
‘Come on,’ he shouted.
‘No,’ she cried. ‘I can’t leave it.’ She pulled against him but it was already too late. Robert’s uncle was reaching forward, his outstretched hand closing around the chain. Within a second he had pulled the key back and was now staring at it in triumph.
‘Let’s go,’ shouted Robert desperately as he tugged at her arm.
Reluctantly Vicky pushed herself up but the uncle was already on his feet. He pushed past them without even looking, his footsteps thudding heavily on the stairs.
Jason crossed the street quickly and slipped into the hotel entrance. The porter looked up uneasily as Jason walked up to him and leaned ominously across the front desk.
‘Good morning Michael.’
Michael coughed, clearing the sudden catch in his throat.
‘Hi Jason,’ he said nervously.
‘Which room?’
Michael tried to backtrack, having spent most of the remaining time agonizing about his actions.
‘Look, er, I think I made a mistake. It was dark. I saw her again this morning and she really doesn’t fit your description.’
Silence followed his statement. Jason simply stared at him which unnerved him to such an extent he had to look away, his hands unnecessarily moving some tourism brochures on top of the desk.
‘I don’t believe you,’ responded Jason after a few seconds.
Michael began to squirm under Jason’s stare. ‘Look, I can’t just give you a guest’s room number. If the manager finds out I’ll get fired.’
Jason pushed himself up and within a second had stepped around the desk. The porter’s whimper was cut short as he was grabbed by the upper arms and hauled roughly to within an inch of Jason’s face.
‘You will have a lot more to worry about than your manager if you screw this up for me.’
The porter tried to pull away but Jason’s grip was like a vice.
‘Now I won’t ask again,’ said Jason menacingly. ‘Which room?’
‘I’m not telling you,’ repeated the porter.
Releasing one hand Jason slapped the boy so hard on the cheek that his head recoiled backwards.
The boy turned his head back, a big red mark appearing on the side of his face. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Jason let go of him and let him fall back do
wn onto his chair. He stared back sullenly, his hands trembling as they reached up and gingerly touched his face.
‘Do I have to ask again?’
The boy’s shoulders visibly sagged as he replied in a small voice.
‘She’s in room twenty two.’
‘There now, that wasn’t so hard was it?’
The porter shook his head, ashamed of himself for giving in so easily.
‘Is she there now?’
‘Yes,’ Michael replied in a defeated voice. ‘But she had a friend. A young man. He won’t be happy if you go up there.’
Jason paused. This was something different now. Who was the man? He decided it didn’t matter.
‘You are a mine of information aren’t you,’ he said as he pulled out his phone. He stared at the screen as his stomach twisted itself into a knot of dread. He dialled the number. After one ring it was answered.
‘Do you have news for us Jason?’
Jason swallowed hard trying to wet this throat.
‘Err, yes. I think I’ve found her.’
‘You think? We don’t want you to think Jason, we want you to know.’
Jason felt his bowels constricting.
‘It has to be her. No one else has seen anyone fitting the description.’
‘Hmm, is that so?’
The line went quiet for a moment. Jason didn’t dare say anything.
‘Are you with her now?’
‘No,’ Jason replied. ‘She’s in a hotel, I’m in the lobby. The porter says she had someone with her.’
‘You better not be wasting our time Jason.’
Jason felt a sticky, prickling sensation crawl up his spine.
‘I can go and check but I thought…’
The voice interrupted him.
‘No, stay there and wait for us.’
The line went dead. Jason stared down at his phone. They hadn’t even asked him where he was. He turned to see the porter staring at him wide eyed.
‘I think you should go home,’ Jason said.
Chapter Twenty Six
The Rider stood poised above Falk. His hands gripped the hilt of the sword, his muscles contracting and expanding in unison as they carried the blade effortlessly downwards. He had won easily, his power absolute. He was the Rider. Hunter of Warders. Destroyer of the Light. Nothing else mattered to him at that moment. Then, like a knife piercing his skin, the awareness came. Other memories and knowing began to rise within him and as they did so the gravity of what he could sense opened him up and shocked him to the core of his being.
The wolves were moving.
They had found Nicola.
Now everything had changed. He could not kill Falk. He needed his help.
Falk’s blow caught him unawares, knocking him sideways onto the floor. As his sword flew out of his hand he found himself sprawled on the ice with Falk upon him, the blade of a knife gleaming as the man swung his hand forwards. Desperately Paul raised his forearm narrowly blocking Falk’s attack. He followed through with the elbow of his other arm but Falk twisted his head away avoiding the blow and then punching down. Falk’s fist impacted with Paul’s temple and for a moment all Paul could see were stars. Blindly he kicked upwards with all his might. He heard Falk grunt with pain and fall away to the right. Rolling left Paul picked himself up shouting as he did so.
‘They’ve found Nicola.’
Falk came at him but Paul could see the sudden confusion on the man’s face. Paul sidestepped the flashing blade with an inch to spare and brought his fist down towards Falk’s knife arm but the warrior had already moved out of the way and was flowing into his next strike. In desperation Paul cried out again.
‘They’ll end the awakening.’
Falk let the knife run wide, his elbow connecting with the side of Paul’s head with a satisfying crunch sending him back down onto the floor. Falk knelt over him the tip of his knife resting against the side of Paul’s throat. His brain had registered the Rider’s words and now he was trying to comprehend them. At the same time he knew he had won. He had beaten the Rider and could end it now, destroy him before he found and killed Nicola and Alex. Part of him was already screaming to make the cut, to push his knife forward for he would never get another chance. What the hell was he waiting for?
Falk tensed his muscles.
‘Alex,’ Paul cried out desperately, his brain still reeling from the blow. ‘I can get her back.’
Falk hesitated. His eyes flicked to where, a few metres away, her lifeless body still lay on the ground miraculously untouched by the battle that had been fought around her. Could this really be true? He opened his awareness, letting it expand into the upworld. He could sense the wolves moving. The Rider spoke again in a breathless whisper.
‘Go and save Nicola from the wolves. I will bring Alex. Only then we can complete the awakening. There is no other way.’
The sudden choice lay before Falk, its weight bearing down on him.
‘Why should I believe you?’ growled Falk.
‘Because I am not who you think I am,’ cried Paul urgently. ‘Myrkur thought he had banished Arachar when he made the first Rider but he did not. It is the same with me.’
‘You led him here. You killed Gwen,’ Falk barked back at him. ‘Your only purpose is to destroy.’
‘The Rider killed them, not me,’ said Paul breathlessly.
‘You are the Rider,’ cried Falk.
Paul’s voice dropped. He spoke with all the force he could muster.
‘In a few minutes the wolves will be at a hotel in Penwryn. They will go to the second floor and there they will find Nicola and then everything will end unless we act now, unless you trust me.’
‘Listen to what you ask of me,’ Falk cried out. ‘You, who brought death to me and my people. How can I ever trust you?’
‘Because I could have killed you already.’
Paul indicated downwards to his right. Falk followed his gaze, a sinking feeling in his stomach. As he looked down he saw the needle sharp dagger in Paul’s other hand, the point of the blade pressed against the side of his chest. It would only have taken a single movement to plunge the blade through Falk’s ribs and into his heart.
‘I love Nicola,’ said Paul his eyes burning with anger. ‘Don’t you understand? I love her.’
The pair stared at each other for a few seconds, and then slowly Paul lessoned the pressure on the knife and then pulled it away.
‘Do you trust me now Falk?’
Warily Falk clambered to his feet, not taking his eyes from Paul.
‘It is true you could have killed me then, yet you did not.’
Falk sighed.
‘What choice do I have?’
Paul held his stare.
‘I didn’t ask for this.’
‘Yet it is you,’ Falk replied.
Paul stood up and then went to Alex’s side, cradling her head in his arms. He turned, his face unreadable.
‘Nicola is shielded. Room 22 of the Victoria Hotel in Penwryn. I will wait for you at the oak in the clearing.’
Falk nodded.
‘And afterwards?’
‘Nicola will decide.’
‘We are still enemies,’ said Falk.
‘I know,’ Paul replied holding his gaze.
Falk stood before them amongst the trees. Shock threatened to overwhelm him. Gwen was right. The Rider’s power was absolute. Yet Falk was still alive. The Rider was in turmoil, that was plain to see, a dangerous conflict burning within him. If what he said was true he was determined to complete the awakening. It was utter madness, for no agent of the Dark would allow that. Falk shook his head. His continued existence was living proof of the Rider’s intentions. Falk had no choice but to believe him. Taking a deep breath he launched himself upwards and embraced the falcon within his mind, his wings biting into the frigid air. Accelerating hard his form merged with the night and then disappeared.
Paul stared down at his sister. Her face was ashen, her chest barel
y moving as she breathed. He touched her forehead and tried to feel into her mind but it was as if a barrier had been thrown around her consciousness and he could sense nothing. He removed his hand and stared down at her, bitterness clutching at his heart, for there was nothing more he could do.
Gently he lifted her up, cradling her motionless body in his arms. Moving to his horse he lifted her up and placed her across the saddle. Readying himself he prepared to jump up behind her. It was then that he felt the link opening in his mind. At first he did not comprehend what was happening, but then the realisation gripped him.
‘No,’ he screamed as the Rider took over his mind and called to Myrkur, but it was too late. Already Paul could feel a hole opening in the fabric of the forest and before he could react, Serenti were pouring through to surround him. In desperation he clutched at the taint, but as soon as he tried anything it collapsed and folded in on itself. The realisation hit him then that he had lost. Powerless, he watched as a hundred Serenti moved to form a defensive circle around him and, as they did, he felt Myrkur’s presence pervading his consciousness like poison. As the last Serenti moved into place a heavy silence descended across them, and in that silence Paul’s hopes left him.
‘So this is the cost?’
‘Did you really think you could evade me?’ Myrkur’s voice spoke directly into his mind.
‘Arachar did,’ Paul responded bitterly.
‘But not forever, Rider.’
‘Just get it over with,’ Paul growled in his mind.
‘There is no easy way out.’
‘All you want is death,’ said Paul.
‘And for a long time that is what you brought them.’
Paul shuddered as the words hit him. Suddenly memories rose to his consciousness. He was moving on horseback through the trees. Ahead the Warder he had been tracking was moving quickly but the trap was already laid and an army of Serenti waited. Inside him the tremor of excitement and adrenaline was already rising. The Warder stopped and closed her eyes, touching the energy and pulling herself back into her group’s hideaway. With its location revealed the Rider opened himself to the taint and followed. He saw the surprise on her face and watched in fascination as the realisation dawned, as the knowledge of her failure and what was to come filled her until her eyes burned with anger and despair. Then the Serenti spilled through the gap and the slaughter followed. Yes, he remembered the slaughter, and the rivers of blood.
The Dark Rider (Fading Light) Page 24