And they were completely eclipsed by their steeds. I stared incredulously at their ugly horn-beaks, their breathtaking golden plumage, and the powerful lion legs that tensed and flexed beneath muscular haunches. The pages of Arafel’s book of mythology fanned through my mind as though I held it in my hands, and fell open upon the beast of beasts. Octavia had re-created the griffin.
‘Stay tight!’ Max yelled as the Leader reared up on his griffin, Diasord high, and charged directly towards him. Unus threw his head back and roared in retaliation. He stepped in front of Max and lumbered forward in a run. Instinctively, I made to sprint after him but Max caught my arm.
‘It’s a Leader’s challenge. If Unus wins this they have to let us go as a matter of honour,’ he hissed.
I was doubtful any notion of honour was given credence in here, but the remaining soldiers seemed to be backing off to give the combatants’ room. I scowled as my eyes flew back to the Lead Centurion, there was something horribly familiar about him even though he was almost completely covered in head-to-foot armour. His every movement seeped a malevolent arrogance that made me grit my teeth.
‘Cassius,’ I whispered as the mouth behind the open visor twisted into an ugly smirk. There was no doubt in my mind that given the chance, he would kill me the most torturous way he knew how.
‘Unus isn’t our Leader!’ I spat, the black device amplifying my protest loudly around the space, but it was too late. Cassius lunged first, the eagle head of his griffin screaming its attack, revealing a double set of serrated canines. I shuddered. Unus raised his axe to block Cassius’s Diasord, crying out in anger as the red-hot laser made contact with his arms. The sour smell of burning flesh filled the air.
‘Unus, here!’ I cried, throwing my own Diasord as hard as I could towards him. He caught it as the griffin reared again and lunged for his throat. He shuffled sideways and caught Cassius by surprise with a crashing right fist that toppled him heavily to the ground. I held my breath as the crowd roared with appreciation.
The screens above the arena were filled with close-up pictures of Cassius’s still body, lying face down in the dirt. Unus lumbered towards him as the unmanned griffin started screeching, its barbaric eyes filled with bloodlust. The gentle giant reached down and rolled Cassius over, removing his dented helmet reluctantly. His black eyes were closed and there was a trail of fresh blood trickling down the side of his dusty face. I felt nothing.
For a moment there was complete silence, and then a low, solemn beat resonated through the air. The mounted guards were all performing the same manoeuvre, drumming the back end of their Diasords against their breastplates in some sort of salute.
A tiny quiver of hope darted down my back. Had we won? Had Octavia been beaten by a creature of her own design? Better yet, one she had discarded as a failure? Max turned triumphantly towards her balcony but a suspicious swooping noise, or perhaps just instinct, made me start towards Unus.
‘Look out!’ I choked as the full weight of the riderless griffin crashed down on Unus’s thick shoulders. He staggered as the eagle’s crested, hooked beak sunk itself into his neck, and the pack’s raucous cry filled the arena. Bright red blood gushed down over his back. His great body buckled and swayed, and I stared in horror as he struggled to stay on his feet. A shocked gasp swept across the crowd.
‘No!’ I screamed, pelting forward as fast as I could towards Unus’s side as pandemonium broke out across the arena. The pack started rearing in support as the guards struggled to control them. The unmanned griffin reared again, as Unus reached up and grabbed its feathered, trunk neck. Thick leathery limbs grappled with fierce claws and powerful haunches, as the two massive bodies toppled to the ground with a resounding crash, and a thick dust cloud enveloped them both.
Grabbing my Diasord from the dust, I lunged forwards at the griffin’s flesh-tearing beak. But there was no reaction; it was already lifeless. Max and I seized the heavy creature, which had collapsed on top of Unus, and pulled with all our might. It rolled off ungracefully, its massive claws outstretched, and red eyes glassy and unseeing. I fell to my knees at Unus’s side, blood was pouring from his neck and there was a new wound in his side.
The crowd held their breath.
‘Unus?’ I whispered shakily. ‘Unus, look at me.’
Slowly, the great Cyclops rolled his misshapen head towards me. His large eye blinked once, twice, three times, and then he smiled. ‘Unus win. Friends safe. Can go home.’ He spoke with some effort, his voice unusually thick and gravelly.
I blinked rapidly to try to ease the knife twisting in my chest. ‘Unus brave,’ I whispered. ‘Unus a hero.’
I reached down and started to rip at my tunic furiously, I needed to stem the blood flow, fast. A thick hand stilled mine and I looked up into his gentle eye in confusion.
‘Unus happy. Unus go,’ he whispered. I realized then his face had turned ashen. I was too late.
‘No!’ I leaned forward on a painful sob. ‘You are not dying. We need you. Unus!’
But the grasp on my arm had weakened, and I could see his chest was slowing. He smiled at me, closed his great eye and sighed. Then he was gone.
I looked blindly up at Max who was standing protectively over us, daring any soldier to come near. There appeared to be confusion among the guards, now that both Leaders had gone. The crowd had heard every word and were silent, looking interestedly at Octavia as her face filled the screens. It was thunderous. Clearly, she had never been in this situation before.
The air felt heavy. I rose stiffly and glowered with pure, distilled hatred at her. For a second nothing and no one moved, and then, with a grim smile, she slowly extended her arm and raised her thumb.
‘Play on!’ she commanded.
A hiss broke out across the crowd, and I scanned their faces numbly as the guards reassembled in a tight formation. Max backed up, pushing me behind him.
‘The double-crossing, back-stabbing, scheming ice-bitch!’ he hissed. ‘This is it, Tal: on my word you have to run. The crowd is with us now. Don’t stop, keep running, tell Art. Don’t … look … back.’
‘No,’ I responded with a hiss of my own. He shot me a furious look as I nodded towards the screens. Each one was supported by a long, thin filament, just large enough to support the weight of a light-footed Outsider.
‘Why run when you can fly?’ I challenged, holding the black device high so my words echoed around the arena. A murmur of interest rippled through the audience, and Octavia scowled. She hadn’t anticipated the people of Pantheon having spirit of their own; perhaps free will wasn’t entirely extinct after all.
Just at that moment, there was a loud beating from behind one of the black archways. I inhaled sharply, and felt the crowd swing their gaze to watch whatever monster was about to emerge next. I wiped the sweat from my eyes, feeling as though my heart might rupture my chest at any given moment. Then a lone knight came into view.
A fresh gasp echoed across the arena, and I stared in disbelief as a familiar figure riding a proud white stallion calmly trotted towards us. Both knight and horse were dressed in the finest gold-edged armour that glinted in the arena lights. The guards saluted immediately, inclining their helmeted heads, as a tidal wave of emotion rendered me completely speechless. The rider standing beside us, his stallion snorting with adrenaline, was Commander General Augustus Aquila.
‘Octavia, I invoke Rule 39CII of The Games, which clearly states: “A man may elect to replace his battle Leader, if his rank is close, and the death was honourable.”’
August’s deep voice echoed authoritatively around the arena, and there was a sharp intake of breath. Octavia held up her hand to quiet the excited whispering. Was August choosing to finish us off publicly for some kind of perverted kick? I stared at his military finery, and was conscious of a final ache settling somewhere deep inside.
‘Silence! Your invocation is welcome, Commander, but you realize this is a fight to the death? You will be required to dispatch the two Pr
olet insurgents?’ she responded with barely contained glee.
‘On the contrary,’ August corrected bluntly, pausing to let his gaze sweep across the stands. ‘I stand for the Cyclops.’
This time there was absolute silence as thousands of heads swung towards Octavia, including my own.
‘I stand for Unus!’ August roared furiously, holding his Diasord high as the stallion reared on its strong back legs.
The crowd yelled their approval, leaving me in no doubt as to their respect for their Commander General, as shock flooded my body. I stared at his noble figure in abject wonder. He wasn’t cold or calculating, crazy or cruel; he was simply the most consummate actor in Pantheon.
And now, as he stood before the whole of Pantheon publicly defying Octavia, there was no denying the truth. Whatever he had done up until this moment was all part of one huge, clever, cover-up to try to help us – because he believed in the outside. Because he believed in me. My heart soared with something more than our improved chances in the arena, but there was no time. Octavia was on her feet, and every screen was magnifying her alabaster face, cracking with ugly, black rage.
‘Your choice, Commander! Do not expect your soldiers to be lenient. And let’s make this interesting … bring out the bait!’
Her voice dropped to a malevolent hiss as she lowered her arm, signalling the games to start once more. The crowd fell silent, and I could sense they were unsure how to react. As a respected Commander of the Equite knights, August was hideously outnumbered by his own soldiers.
A sudden fanfare of trumpets from the opposite side of the arena broke the air. I whipped my head around with a sense of impending dread, and gazed at the last remaining gaping black arch. The entire arena held its breath as something emerged through it at breakneck speed.
‘No!’
My anguished cry echoed around the space as a single, unarmoured horse careered erratically into the arena. The frightened brown mare was dragging a crudely made cart, but it was the half-naked figure tied to a wooden post fixed to its centre that focused my pain. The man’s hands were tethered above his head, which hung forward and jolted lifelessly with every movement the cart made, but I would still know him anywhere. It was Eli.
My breath felt jagged and short as I stared in horror, his chest and back were covered with raised scarlet lesions. The surrounding griffins were excited instantly, cawing and scuffing the dirt with their bulbous raking claws. The soldiers attempted to control them, but the horse bolting around the perimeter of the ring was filling the air with the scent of freshly spilt blood, and the shrieking intensified as it bypassed each griffin.
‘Can you catch a horse, Talia?’ August roared, his outstretched Diasord glinting in the arena lights.
I was sprinting before he’d finished shouting, my eyes trained on the horse’s white eyes. It was terrified and trying to take the widest possible route away from the excited griffins, causing the cart wheels to squeal in resistance.
I closed my eyes, and in a breath I was back in the forest, with the trees all around. I sprinted directly towards the arena walls. The bottom half were smooth, but from two metres up there were periodic grippers securing lengths of metallic material. They were small, but would have to do.
As I leapt for the first, a fresh commotion broke out in the ring. I threw a look over my shoulder and saw Max standing in the middle, drawing his Diasord over his left forearm. The fresh smell of burning flesh pervaded the air and the griffins crowed with excitement. I knew exactly what he was doing – drawing them off to give me a chance. My chest throbbed painfully. I didn’t deserve him.
‘Thank you,’ I whispered as I swung my feet up and balanced precariously on one foot. The crowd roared their appreciation as my sweaty, focused face filled the screens. I scanned the arena and spotted the horse on the other side. I had only one chance. The griffins were closing in on Max and August, who had dismounted and was standing by Max’s side, his Diasord raised protectively.
I counted through gritted teeth as the horse careered closer and then, just at the last moment, I leapt and my airborne body was framed by every screen I could see. The crowd held its breath as I straightened, soared, and then pulled my legs up tightly before landing in a crouch on the broadest part of the horse’s matted back. The crowd erupted in wild applause as I caught hold of her flying mane and leaned in to whisper. I wasn’t Eli, but I’d watched him calm a terrified animal more times than I could remember.
‘Steady, girl,’ I whispered, rubbing the spot between her flared ears as Eli would have done. She twitched in response, and her pace faltered. It was working!
Within a minute she had slowed to a steady canter, and her breath was recovering. The crowd were waving and clapping enthusiastically, as though I had just won a race, but I felt no triumph. Instead, I slid off her back and ran around towards Eli.
‘Eli, Eli!’ I shouted as I leapt onto the cart, and tried to push his head up so I could look into his face. I was rewarded with a tiny flicker of his eyelids, and felt myself sag with relief. He was alive!
I searched for the ties that restrained him, and within a couple of minutes he was free and collapsing in my arms. He opened his eyes in disbelief as I lowered him onto the stationary cart. His torso was covered in raised, angry welts, but his face was untouched and he could move all his limbs.
‘I’m going to get you out of here!’ I promised, leaning forward to kiss his hot forehead. ‘Right after I help a few of our friends.’
I stood up, and felt my courage falter as I took in the scene playing out in the arena’s heart. Four of the soldiers lay injured and groaning in the dirt while Max and August fought, back to back, in the centre. Max’s bleeding arm glistened in the hot, bright lights and the griffins were diving at every opportunity, particularly the unmanned animals.
Something unprecedented was happening too, the riderless beasts appeared to be rolling and struggling with their empty saddles and harnesses. I frowned in concentration, recalling their basic physiology, and an alarming suspicion filled my mind.
As if it could hear me, a riderless griffin finally managed to shrug its ornate saddle onto its right flank and, throwing back its head in a crow of triumph, shook out the most beautiful pair of burnished-gold wings I’d ever seen. They had to be at least two and a half metres in diameter and looked strong enough to support two griffins. A flint smile flitted across my face; perhaps Octavia was to be designer of her own downfall after all.
I threw a brief look upwards, and breathed silent thanks for Octavia’s obsessive eye for detail. In keeping with the original Flavium, the arena was completely open to the domed ceiling, and far above us I could see the haga circling, watching the proceedings below with interest.
A strange hush passed across the crowd, before the whispering started. The screens showed a close-up of Octavia’s face. Her thin lips were pressed into an almost non-existent line, and her eyes flashed venomously as she waved her personal soldiers forward. This was not going the way she’d planned.
I watched the griffin jump and prance across the arena, testing its wings. It reminded me of the unbroken horses in Arafel, off balance and in need of a reassuring hand. Of course, the horses in Arafel didn’t also want to eat me, but I was getting used to that. I jumped down off the cart and ran towards the animal, slowing as I reached its wild, thrashing tail.
‘Tal, for the love of Arafel … get outta there!’ Max roared. His spirit was strong but his voice cracked with exhaustion. I knew it was only a matter of minutes before one of them fell. Spurred on, I jumped the thrashing tail and ran around to the griffin’s side, praying the element of surprise would give me the edge.
There was no time for counting, I narrowed my eyes briefly, and saw my chance. Taking a deep breath, I ran forward lightly and leapt. My target was the left side of the slipped saddle, which had lodged itself in front of the beast’s huge wing. My fingers caught the spot tightly and I swung my body around, landing squarely on the animal’s b
road hairy back as Octavia’s watch surrounded us. The surprised griffin reared as I leaned into its thick golden plumage, and started whispering reassurance.
From this vantage point, I could see the remaining griffins were closing in on August and Max, and I redoubled my efforts. For a moment it seemed as though I was winning, the griffin turned its head to one side and hesitated, as though it were listening. Then one of Octavia’s guards ran in, and struck the beast hard across its haunches with a Diasord.
Instantly the animal panicked, rearing high and cawing its fury to the world. I grabbed thick handfuls of feathers to hang on, but had underestimated its brute strength. It shook its massive body violently and then collapsed onto its side, ready to roll me off if necessary. I sprang to one side just as one of the guards lunged again, striking me across my thigh. The sting was needle-sharp and once again the stench of burning flesh filled the air, only this time it was mine.
All eyes swung my way as I dropped to my knees with a long, red slash oozing blood down my right thigh. As the arena wavered in front of me, the crowd started to boo. I climbed to my feet unsteadily as Max and August appeared at a run, enclosing me immediately in a tight circle. The pack of griffins were nanoseconds behind, forming an impenetrable outer circle with the extra guards.
A hard tight lump formed in my chest and for the first time I doubted. There were just too many. Mum’s anxious face materialized in my head and I blinked rapidly to ease my hot dusty eyes. It was too much to think I might never see her again. Our faces flashed across the screens and they were bloodied, sweat-stained, and exhausted.
A guard lunged and Max dropped to his knees as a new wound opened up across his chest. I caught him as he swayed, the griffins crowing their vulturous interest to the crowd. My pain clawed up my throat, raking my insides as two of the pack reared in barely controlled excitement. I hugged Max close as August stood beside us. It was only a matter of seconds, and we would all be ripped to shreds.
Book of Fire Page 23