by Adam Blade
“What happened?” asked Tanner, helping the farmer sit down on the front step and lean his shoulder against the doorframe.
Drew sucked in a shallow breath. “An army,” he gasped. “Hundreds of men marching this way.”
“What army?” said Tanner. No armies had marched in Avantia since Derthsin had disappeared. Bandits prowled the land, but not armies.
Drew shook his head. “I don’t know. Not just soldiers. Some sort of creature …” He choked and flecks of blood gathered around his lips. “They destroyed Harron last night. They murdered everyone. The whole town is gone. It was just like the last time ….”
Dread ran down Tanner’s spine.
“I tried to escape, but one of their scouts shot me …. Some brute riding a varkule —” Drew broke off, coughing up more blood.
“Don’t speak any more,” Tanner said. “Try to save your strength.”
Tanner’s grandmother hobbled over with a bowl of hot water and clean strips of linen.
“Drew says soldiers are coming,” said Tanner, his voice tight with tension.
His grandmother’s glance shifted to the doorway leading back into the house. Tanner swallowed. Surely no one could know what was hidden beneath the floorboards? The fragment of the Mask of Death was their secret.
One piece was buried beneath their home, while the other pieces were scattered across the kingdom. Esme had never told Tanner where they were, or why she hadn’t destroyed them. “It’s not for you to know,” she would say, shaking her head. “Not yet.” After a few years, Tanner had stopped asking about the pieces of the mask. Until today, he’d almost forgotten about them.
“Grandmother,” Tanner said, putting his hand on her arm. “I have to go and look.”
She turned her shrewd gaze on him and nodded grimly. She pressed a damp cloth against Drew’s bloody wound. He gasped with pain. “Be careful. And remember all you have learned these past years.”
Tanner rushed around to the back of the cottage, his heart thumping, and scrambled up the small plateau between the trees. He looked east, toward the distant volcano that still spewed lava several times a year.
Cupping his mouth, he called the name of his most trusted friend.
“Firepos!” Tanner’s voice echoed up toward the distant peak.
A shape burst from the volcano’s glowing mouth, spreading mighty red-brown wings. Tanner’s fear receded as the great Beast soared toward him, driving through the Avantian morning with powerful strokes. The flame bird was silhouetted against the sun, her sharp beak shining as she sliced through the air. Firepos drew close, thrusting out her talons to land gently in front of him. Gold shimmered among her ruffled feathers, and he felt the heat rising from her flanks.
“Are you ready?” he said.
Firepos replied with a shrill call, and lowered her body. Tanner climbed onto her back and clutched the thick feathers behind her head.
“North!” he shouted.
Firepos soared over the cottage. The green plains and rocky mountains of Avantia swept into view. It looked peaceful, but so vulnerable. Sleepy villages and open fields were no defense against attacking armies.
Even with these doubts prickling inside him, Tanner felt a thrill of exhilaration as they took to the sky. The first time he and Firepos had flown together had been the day after his father’s murder and mother’s abduction. He’d been terrified, clinging to her plumage and burying his face in her neck, unable to look down. He couldn’t understand why this Beast had chosen him to be her rider.
But as the seasons passed, and then the years, their bond had grown and strengthened like the roots of a tree. After a while, he stopped questioning why. He trusted his Beast above all others, and he knew they were meant to be together. When the time is right, Firepos will let me know why she chose me.
Firepos had been a patient trainer. Tanner wasn’t sure what he was being trained for, and when he tried to ask, his Beast would close her eyes and wait for the questions to cease. For a long while he hadn’t been sure if Firepos understood him, until he realized that she could read his thoughts.
He learned how to hold on to the Beast’s back during her steepest dives, how to live on a mountainside without dying of exposure, and where to hunt in the most barren places. He was no longer the skinny seven-year-old who’d watched his father die. He was stronger now, in body and spirit. Firepos had taught him how to survive.
Now Firepos flew high across a hill, her wings spread wide. Astride her back, Tanner surveyed the expanse of green pasture to the west, and the gleaming waters of the lake to the east, where Ben and his father fished. To the north, over the plains, the peaks were cold blue smears on a hazy horizon. Tanner had flown between those peaks many times, numbed by hail and freezing winds.
The whistle of the wind sang in his ears and his eyes watered, but as they pushed through a low-hanging cloud, tearing through drifting white, he experienced the excitement he always felt when flying on Firepos’s back. He sensed the steady beat of Firepos’s wings and the strong thump of her heart. She responded to his unspoken commands, cutting through the rough air, buffeted in the wild aerial winds.
The Beast’s flight settled and she dropped out of the clouds. The road leading to Forton stretched beneath them, winding its way through the hills. In the distance, Tanner saw a cloud of dust rising from the road. He bade Firepos fly lower as they approached. We must stay out of sight, he urged her.
They closed on the dust cloud. What Tanner saw next chilled his blood.
Down the road tramped three columns of soldiers, one behind the next, the disciplined trudge of their march carrying up to him. At the four points of each column, outriders rode on the backs of varkules — giant, hyena-like creatures the size of horses, with mottled hides and sharp tusks. Streaks of thick fur lined their spines; their ears were pointed and alert, nostrils sniffing the air for prey. One of them cried out, and Tanner shuddered at the faint noise of the animal’s howl.
Leading the advance, mounted on a magnificent black stallion, was a tall man dressed in black armor that glinted and flashed. Tanner couldn’t see his features. His helmet, shaped like the snout of a dragon, was firmly shut. Everything about the Dragon Warrior was dark; he seemed to suck the light from around him. A cold sensation trickled through Tanner’s chest. There was something dreadful in the purpose of the men’s march.
“Lower, Firepos,” Tanner murmured.
They made a pass over the army. “There must be three hundred at least,” he said. He saw that the soldiers wore full-body leather armor. The leading elements carried spears, and swords hung at their sides. Behind them came men with long-handled battle-axes resting on their shoulders, and bringing up the rear marched a contingent of crossbowmen. Their helmets hid most of their faces, but their mouths were cruel and hard.
Tanner flew overhead, casting a dark shadow over the army. The Dragon Warrior reined in his stallion and shouted a command. The rest of the soldiers stopped dead as the crossbowmen rushed out of the column, rapidly forming a line, two men deep. The front rank went down on their knees, aiming their weapons at Firepos.
Fear choked Tanner’s throat.
I have to warn everyone! Firepos tipped back her head and soared higher.
“Loose!” bellowed the Dragon Warrior. There was a clatter as the crossbowmen shot their bolts. Missiles whistled past Firepos, several passing through the feathers in her tail. She beat her wings harder and flew out of range.
Tanner twisted around, gazing down toward his village. The palisade would be no defense against these men, with their varkules and iron discipline. Firepos let out a cry as they darted between the clouds and Tanner brought his chest close to her body. Quick, Firepos! Reassurance radiated up to him from her warm feathers.
After so many years our time has come. All the lessons I have taught Tanner will be put to the test. I have done everything I can to prepare him. But I sense his fear. I only hope he has the strength to survive. If he fails, I will have
sent him to his death.
Firepos swooped down into Forton’s central square, drawing gasps from the villagers trading at the stalls as her talons skittered onto the cobbles. It was market day, so nearly all of Forton was there.
It was the first time for many years that Firepos had shown herself to anyone other than Tanner and Esme. Tanner could feel her trepidation at doing so — she had kept herself a secret for a long time. How would the villagers react to seeing young Tanner, the baker’s apprentice, riding a Beast mentioned only in the old legends of history books?
For a few seconds people stared, openmouthed, unwilling to believe their eyes. A scream broke the silence. Some people scrambled to get away, knocking over piles of fruit and bundles of wool from the stalls, and disappearing down alleys. Parents grabbed their children and hugged them to their chests. Other, braver souls simply stared in wonder.
At least not everyone is running away, Tanner thought. It’s probably because they know me. I have to try to explain what is going on.
Tanner leaped off Firepos’s back and ran to the bell in the center of the square. He seized the rope and yanked on it with all his strength, sending loud peals out over the village. The bell was to be used only as a warning of grave danger. People emerged from their houses, slowly, torn between their curiosity and fear of the Beast. All gazed up at Firepos with wide eyes.
“Do not fear Firepos,” Tanner called. “She is a Beast of legend, and I am her Chosen Rider.”
Murmurs echoed around the square. A few people approached Firepos. She eyed them beadily, unsure of how they would act.
Simon, the village leader — a sensible man who had helped Tanner bury his father — stepped forward from the crowd. “Hush, everyone,” he said. “Tanner, what in Avantia is going on?”
Tanner climbed onto Firepos’s back and stood up so everyone could hear him. “Soldiers are coming! Hundreds of them. Break out the weapons. Man the walls!”
“Bandits?” Simon said. “They wouldn’t attack our town. It’s too well protected.”
“These are not common bandits, Simon. Our walls will be useless in the face of these men. They have varkules. These men are …” He didn’t know how to say it. He looked into his friend’s face. “They’ll kill us all. They’ve already razed Harron to the ground. They nearly killed Drew.”
A murmur of fresh panic rippled through the villagers. Simon’s face darkened. “All those in the militia, to the armory. Anyone who can hold a weapon, get ready to fight,” he shouted, looking around. “Everyone else, into the cellars.” He turned back to Tanner. “Can you and your Beast help us?”
Tanner’s heart pounded as he watched the villagers hurry to the armory. They emerged with grim faces, carrying crossbows, swords, clubs, and axes.
The sound of a war horn blasted from outside the village. Fear closed over Tanner like a black cloud. He felt cold. His hands were wet with sweat.
“Will you help us?” Simon insisted.
“I’ll hold them off as long as I can,” Tanner said, swallowing his fear. “Organize a defense with the time I buy you.”
Simon nodded and ran off, barking orders.
“Go, Firepos,” Tanner cried. “Head for the fields.”
As the Beast soared away from the village, Tanner’s heart thumped even harder. The cruel worm of doubt returned and his stomach tightened. He’d promised to hold off the army, but he’d seen the varkules, the weapons, the deadly intent in every stride the soldiers took toward Forton. He looked down at his thin tunic. One slash of a blade and his heart could be torn from his chest.
But he had a Beast, and they did not! That was something, at least.
“It’s our time, Firepos,” he told her. “Time to defend our home.” He could hear his own voice trembling. He’d seen death before, smelled its scent — death had taken Tanner’s father. Now it had returned.
Even with Firepos’s training, would Tanner be able to cheat death a second time?
I can feel Tanner’s determination fighting with his fear. He steers me in a wide path, behind a copse of trees, and only a wing’s length over the ground. I understand: He means to attack the raiders from behind, before they have a chance to muster their defenses.
We swoop over a low rise, and there they are. The marching columns with their backs to us. My feathers are alive with flame.
Tanner clung to Firepos as she let out a furious shriek and dove at one of the army’s varkule outriders. Tanner drew his sword. At the last second, sensing danger, the varkule’s head snapped around.
Tanner leaned out from Firepos as far as he dared and, as he passed by, slashed his sword across the rider’s chest. The enemy fell with a scream, rolling and tumbling in the dirt.
Adrenaline rushed through Tanner’s veins, and he had no time to dwell on what he had just done.
The rear elements of the army broke ranks with anxious shouts. Tanner let out a yell of triumph as Firepos seized up two crossbowmen in her talons. He heard their cries as she dropped them into the midst of the leading column of spearmen. Men sprawled on the ground, limbs snapping like twigs. The Dragon Warrior wheeled around on his stallion. “Hold firm!” he bellowed.
Many sprinted into the trees on either side of the road. Others crouched and lifted their crossbows, firing wildly at Firepos. A company of spearmen grouped together and pointed their weapons aloft so Firepos couldn’t get close.
The varkules reared, but their riders brought them under control. Tanner looped away, readying himself for another pass. He could hear the crackle of flames as his Beast gathered a fireball in her talons. That would soon put them to flight.
As he steered Firepos to face the enemy again, he saw the Dragon Warrior dismount and lay a hand on his stallion’s mane. He seemed to whisper something quietly in its ear.
“What’s he doing?” Tanner muttered.
The stallion shook its mane as if shaking off a swarm of angry wasps. It lifted its head and snorted. The sound carried all the way to Tanner. It reared up on its hind legs, but instead of falling back to the ground, the creature stayed perfectly balanced. Its forelegs started to expand and lengthen. Tanner felt his mouth turn dry. This was no ordinary horse.
The hind legs thickened, growing as wide as tree stumps beneath the horse’s massive body. The rear hooves swelled and hardened into bronze, and the front hooves twisted into claws. Weapons, Tanner thought. It’s growing weapons! Lips folded back and shrank. Eyes, alight with intelligence, shifted in its head so that the horse’s face looked grotesquely human. The creature’s chest heaved and Tanner saw that its glossy coat now stretched across a body more like a man’s. Muscles flexed as it raised a hooked claw into the air, slicing.
“It’s a Beast!” Tanner shouted over the wind.
The fire in my heart flickers as I see him. It is true, then: Varlot exists. In all my days, I’ve never seen him. They say that Varlot kills without conscience, that he cares nothing for the world around him — that he even refuses a Chosen Rider. So what is he doing with the Dragon Warrior? We have a new enemy, Tanner and I.
Firepos shivered, sending Tanner a message. A name seeped into his consciousness: Varlot. So that was the name of the Beast.
The stallion’s glossy coat hardened into scales — a cracked layer of bronze covering his entire body. The enemy soldiers gathered in their ranks behind the towering Horse Beast.
Firepos sent another message: Don’t be afraid.
“I’m not. I can do this,” Tanner muttered, hoping he sounded braver than he felt, but knowing there was no way to fool Firepos. If I behave like a brave warrior, perhaps I’ll become one, he thought to himself.
There was no time left for thinking. The flame bird screeched, blasting a fireball that streaked through the sky like a comet.
Varlot arched back his arms, exposing his chest, threw back his head, and roared. The fireball smashed into his armor in an explosion of fire and brimstone. When the smoke cleared, the Beast was still standing, his armor untarnishe
d. He swiped a claw in Tanner’s direction, sending out a bellow of defiance.
A spear flashed up from below. Tanner yanked Firepos’s feathers, and she darted sideways. The weapon sailed past, but another caught her wing and sent her spinning. Firepos screeched. Tanner gritted his teeth and hung on as the world blurred. When the Beast righted herself, he saw more spearmen taking aim.
“That was too close!” he called to Firepos, pulling her out of range.
Below, the soldiers were regrouping. The Dragon Warrior was directing them down the main road to the village, led by two varkule outriders and Varlot. The Dragon Warrior watched, and then headed off with a few soldiers along the track that led to Tanner’s grandmother’s cottage. Why was the Dragon Warrior splitting up his forces?
Tanner didn’t know whether to follow the main attack, or defend his grandmother. Did he care more for the hundreds of villagers, or the only family he had left? He sensed the Flame Beast waiting for him to make his decision. He glanced after the soldiers, then back toward the Dragon Warrior. Every second he hesitated, danger was edging closer to innocent lives.
Take me down, he urged Firepos, directing his Beast toward the heart of the village. Even as they moved through the air, Tanner still didn’t know if he’d made the right decision.
His loyal Beast dipped her beak and dove, shooting fireballs into the path of the marching army. They smashed onto the ground, throwing up clods of earth and billowing smoke. Soldiers screamed, engulfed in flames, rolling on the ground to extinguish them.
I am a killer, Tanner thought with horror. A few days ago I was just a baker’s apprentice. Now I have blood on my hands.
Pushing this feeling aside, Tanner steered Firepos through the rising black columns and watched the army scatter in disarray. Then he bore down on the enemy Beast. When they were fifty paces away, flying low above the ground, Tanner swung his leg over Firepos’s back in a move they’d practiced a thousand times before. He jumped, hit the ground, and rolled to a halt.