by Paul Kelly
Elijah looked to Sybil for a response, but she seemed to be busy staring at her shoes. They kept walking, stepping inside the Temple, joining thousands who bustled around it. The first thing that hit Elijah was the stench. He gagged, covering his nose and mouth.
“What is that?” he gasped.
“Them,” Solomon muttered, flinging his hand towards the ceiling. Above them, hanging from uncountable metal hooks, were thousands and thousands of rotting pieces of meat. Elijah gagged, just barely stopping himself from throwing up.
“The Skylanders did this?” he asked. “Some sort of psychological torture?”
Solomon’s features tightened, becoming cold and stony. “No, my rapt pupil,” he said, his voice losing all trace of emotion. “This crime was committed before their islands even came into existence.”
“It’s a relic of the Silence,” breathed Sybil, her voice sickened.
“A relic, what do you mean?” asked Elijah, confused.
“Look closer,” she said.
Elijah stared upwards and then he saw it. They were not just pieces of meat. They were tongues. Thousands and thousands of dead, rotting tongues. He felt his stomach churn. He clamped a hand over his mouth and sprinted out of the Temple, barging through the crowd in his haste. He heard chainmail clank and swords scatter to the floor as angry shouts followed him. Outside, he felt his stomach wrench upwards, pouring its contents out. His jaw locked as the vomit flooded out of him, coating the white wall of the Temple, before sliding off onto the ground in a stinking heap. The taste of bile flooded his senses and he staggered back, falling onto his hands. He shook his head, suddenly dizzy, and levered himself to his feet, wiping his mouth with his coat sleeve. He leaned forwards, placing his hands on his knees and breathed heavily.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Sybil. Her face was concerned.
“You had better not be undoing all my hard work,” she said.
Elijah shook his head and moved a hand to his side, checking for blood. “No, I’m fine.”
Sybil nodded, satisfied. “Are you coming back in or do you want to throw up more?” she asked sweetly.
“You say that like it’s a choice,” growled Elijah, his mind still reeling at the thought of the rotten tongues.
“Everything is a choice,” said Sybil. “You choose to let it affect you.”
“Whatever,” grumbled Elijah, pushing himself upright. “At least I didn’t start setting stuff on fire.”
He breathed in deeply, his stomach quivering. He still felt faintly nauseous, but he wasn’t going to spend any longer talking philosophy with a Skylander. It was just as likely to make him throw up as the tongues were. He strode back into the Temple, trying to ignore the stench of rotten flesh. It was cold inside the limestone building, although the walls were covered in wooden panels in an effort to lend some warmth to the place. He shivered, unconsciously wrapping his arms around his body. Around him, soldiers rushed about, erecting barricades and making stockpiles of weapons. They were turning the Temple into a fortress, he realised. It made a lot of sense. Why not use the building that can’t be destroyed?
He walked up to Solomon who was standing in the centre of the huge, square room, staring up at the tongues.
“Why don’t the Future Storm just get rid of them?” Elijah asked.
“Because I froze them in time,” answered Solomon, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “They’re as immovable as this Temple now.”
Elijah felt his stomach groan slightly, but it soon settled down again. “I’ve seen entire cities be consumed by the Breaches,” he said. “But even so it’s hard to believe we were really so dangerous that they thought they needed to do… this…” he stopped and took a few short, shallow breaths, trying to ignore the flesh hanging above them.
Solomon said nothing for a while and then lifted his arm, pointing at one of the tongues. It hung at the fringes of the Temple’s ceiling, set slightly apart from the others. “That was my son’s,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “He was not dangerous.”
“I’m sorry,” said Elijah, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s OK,” said Solomon. “It happened a long time ago. But I wanted you to see this Elijah. I want you to understand, this war, it’s not just about your sister, and it’s not even just about the Skylands. Bringing them down, it’s only the first step. We have to make it so that this can never happen again.” He breathed heavily, staring at the tongue his gaze unwavering. “And that,” he said. “Is a lot harder.”
Chapter 20 – Dragons
The sound of bells rang through the air. And not just one or two either. It sounded like every bell in the city was throwing a temper tantrum. Solomon continued to stare up at the tongues, as if a bunch of hanging flesh was more important than the army descending upon them. Everywhere, Seers and soldiers ran, desperately adding stone and wood to ever higher barricades.
Elijah pulled at him. “Come on!” he shouted over the commotion. “Something’s happening, we have to go!”
Solomon’s eyes suddenly lit up, as if he’d made a transition back to reality. So good of him to join them.
“Those are the city’s warning bells,” he said to Elijah. “The Skylanders are back.”
“I guess they finally noticed that a bunch of Seers had taken over a city,” replied Elijah. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Solomon shook his head. “Trust me my rapt pupil, this is the safest place for us right now.”
Elijah stared at the old Seer in disbelief. “There’s only one entrance to this place Solomon!” he shouted. “If we stay here, we’ll be trapped like a bird in a cage, like a fish in a net, like a chicken in a slaughterhouse, we’ll be so far trapped we’ll wish we were back in that damn Testing Centre!”
“If we don’t we’ll be killed,” retorted Solomon. “When the Wyverns come, you don’t want to be anywhere where there’s open air.”
“That’s what we have catapults for!” shouted Elijah angrily.
“He’s right, Elijah,” interrupted Sybil. “I know the tactics. The first wave will wipe out those pathetic defences.”
Elijah stopped short. Sybil and Solomon agreeing on something. It must really be bad.
“This way then!” shouted Solomon, already weaving and jumping his way through a dozen barricades.
“Way to have a calm debate,” muttered Elijah as he and Sybil ran after him, tracing his steps as he climbed four staircases. Then he abruptly stopped. Elijah almost ran straight into him. Slowing down, Solomon strode to the edge of a balcony, looking out over the city. Elijah and Sybil joined him. On the wide balcony, four archers crouched in the corners, arrows nocked. Below them, the city was in chaos. Fire had caught hold in the eastern quarter and a steady plume of black smoke emanated from it. Everywhere, men and women screamed and died as Pulse-Masters riding atop Wyverns rained fire down. Only one catapult still remained, seated on a wall to the north. It was surrounded by dozens of archers who loosed volley after volley at any Wyvern who dared to venture too close. Suddenly, an arrow flew past Elijah’s head, burying itself in the wall behind him. Elijah swore and he and Sybil both dived to the ground, but Solomon stayed standing, leaning on the balcony’s edge and staring out over the city, his face grim. Elijah heard a faint whistle and then a gurgling scream. He peaked out over the ledge, just in time to see a Guardian hurtle past, frantically clawing at an arrow which had very rudely decided to take residence in his neck. To Elijah’s left, a single archer withdrew another arrow from his quiver and nocked it to his bow. Above him, another Guardian swore, urging the Wyvern he rode away from the Temple.
“Sloppy,” sniffed Sybil.
“Good enough to take him out,” grunted Elijah.
“Not him, the Guardians,” replied Sybil. “Never attack the keep until the rest of the city is under control. That’s lesson one.”
Elijah stared at the stone faced Skylander. He
wondered if there’d ever been a time when everything didn’t have to be analysed. He turned back to the city, watching the battle play out. It was not going well. In almost every sector, the Guardians and Pulse-Masters had stopped attacking. Having secured the area, they were now dropping dozens of troops, three at a time, into the heart of the city. The northern catapult appeared to be the last line of defence and dozens of Wyverns now surrounded it, raining death down. Elijah’s heart shook as he watched soldiers throw themselves before the blasts in a desperate effort to save the fragile wooden structure. There was a cheer as it loosed a pile of flaming debris, taking out one of the Pulse-Masters and sending a Wyvern plummeting to the ground. But the shouts quickly turned to screams as the remaining Pulse-Masters closed ranks, tossing archers from the walls as if using an invisible hand. The catapult never got another shot. Within seconds, it was aflame.
“The first wave,” whispered Sybil grimly.
Elijah’s stomach lurched. He had a feeling it was going to get a whole lot worse.
Elijah watched as before his eyes, the city seemed to shrink. Slowly, but steadily, the Future Storm’s forces were forced to retreat to the Temple. On the outer edges of the city, Wyverns dropped more and more Guardians and Pulse-Masters, worsening the situation. From this height, Elijah couldn’t see the faces of individual soldiers but it was obvious who was who. The Guardians in their bright, gleaming chainmail and the Pulse-Masters in their perfect, white cloaks destroyed the Future Storm’s rag-tag army with ruthless precision. Every so often, a contingent of soldiers and Seers would burst from one of the buildings, attacking the side of one of the disciplined battalions. There was a brief period of disarray before the square formation seemed to rebound against the attack, pushing the intruders out and slaughtering them against the city’s walls. Blood coated the streets.
The dull sound of a horn split the air. Suddenly, the Future Storm seemed to retreat faster, the six roads Elijah could see flooding with them as they streamed towards the Temple. Beside him, Sybil frowned.
“What is it?” he asked.
“They should be chasing them,” replied Sybil, her brow furrowed in consternation. “Once the Future Storm reach the Temple, we… I mean they, lose their aerial advantage.”
“Well do me a favour and don’t tell them that,” grunted Elijah.
Sybil didn’t reply, instead, she just stared out at the unmoving, square battalions. “It makes no sense…” she whispered.
A piercing shriek split the air, it wasn’t as loud as the Siren but it resonated with menace. Somewhere, deep inside, a dull feeling of dread erupted from within Elijah, paralysing his heart. A dark, black shadow fell over the city. Elijah’s breath caught in his throat. Far above them, a giant lizard descended from the sky. It was massive, over fifty feet long and its scales were a dark matt grey, as if it was a living shadow. On its back and tail, rows upon rows of dark, menacing spikes stood, each one a foot long and wickedly sharp. From either side huge, bat-like wings beat slowly and the wind howled around it, as if it could command even the weather. Its eyes were black and lidless and stared at Elijah across the vast expanse, as if threatening him personally.
“That has to be the biggest Wyvern I’ve ever seen,” breathed Elijah.
The creature opened its mouth to reveal dozens of razor sharp teeth. In the city, shouts and screams began to erupt from the Future Storm’s forces as they saw the creature. It inhaled, air flowing into it like a tornado and then breathed out. Fire erupted from the creature’s mouth and the Future Storm’s screams took on a new wailing crescendo as they were burned alive.
“That’s not a Wyvern,” said Solomon grimly. “That’s a dragon. Down!”
Suddenly, he pulled the two of them to the ground. Elijah shouted in surprise as he fell face first onto the stone surface. He would have complained if the air above them had not abruptly caught fire. On either side, there were horrific screams as the archers were burned to a crisp.
“Let’s get out of here!” shouted Sybil, pushing Elijah and Solomon out of the balcony’s archway. Elijah didn’t need any persuasion. Rounding the corner, he stretched his neck back around its wooden surface, staring at the scene of devastation below them. The armies of the Future Storm were no more. None but the Skylanders moved in the city. In the sky, five dragons now circled, their thin lips pressed tightly in what might have been mistaken for a smile. Elijah breathed in heavily, feeling panic take hold of him. They were trapped now. He’d known this would happen, he’d bloody known it! His hands shook slightly and he leaned in against the wall, steadying himself.
“I thought dragons were a myth,” he gasped, his voice shaking.
“I thought so too,” murmured Solomon, standing perfectly straight, his eyes wide.
Elijah threw a questioning glance at Sybil. She shook her head. “I’ve never even heard of a dragon,” she said.
“You wouldn’t have,” growled Solomon. “It’s an Earthlander fairy-tale, meant to scare children.”
“Well I’d say they’re doing a pretty good job!” answered Elijah, his voice breaking at the end. He frowned at his hands. He was unable to make them stop shaking. Suddenly, another burst of fire shot across the balcony. Elijah whipped his head back, pressing his body tightly against the wall, feeling the fire go by. All down the hallway, similar bursts of flame shot out, consuming half the building and setting the wooden panels aflame. Fear clutched Elijah’s heart. Smoke began to fill the air and he coughed raggedly. He was going to die in this damn Temple, consumed in flames. Beside him, he felt Sybil take his hand. She squeezed it tightly and stared into his eyes intensely. “There’s always a way out,” she whispered.
Elijah nodded, feeling a new kind of bravery wash over him. He hoped it lasted. Beside them, Solomon seemed not to notice their exchange.
“He shall tame the beasts of flames…” he muttered to himself anxiously. “This changes everything, everything Tommen can do, everything he knows how to do, its- .”
He cut off abruptly. Below them, a low booming thud began to sound.
Thud. Thud. The sound was continuous, dark and foreboding. It seemed to echo into the very core of their hearts. Thud.
“We have to get out of here!” hissed Solomon.
Elijah looked out over the stair’s wooden bannister at the solid, stone door. Thud.
Around them, the smoke was beginning to dissipate as the fire ran out of kindling.
“Isn’t it frozen in time?” he asked nervously.
“No, funnily enough we decided not to freeze the doors in time,” growled Solomon. “It makes moving them slightly more difficult.”
“Prazna’s gates are frozen,” spat back Elijah. “It’s not that unreasonable.”
“Yes, well when we built this place we didn’t exactly intend for there to be a siege did we?” Solomon shouted. Elijah could see a dark fear flooding through him. His eyes were wide, his face gaunt and stretched thinly across his cheekbones.
Thud. The door shook steadily with every strike. The cedar panels on the walls buckled and split against the stress, but the wall behind them stayed solid and immovable. Below them, hundreds of soldiers and Seers stood crouched behind barricades. Some held swords, others had bows nocked. The Seers just stood there, their eyes closed, pale ribbons of the timeline flickering around them. Every so often a burst of fire would shriek through one of the windows as the dragons circled above them. Thud.
“What do we do?” hissed Elijah.
“Down the stairs,” answered Solomon. Thud. The strikes were coming faster now and heavier too. Thud. Thud. Thud. Panels of cedar exploded outwards from the walls, unable to stand the pressure. Splinters and sawdust clouded the air as Elijah, Solomon and Sybil scrambled down the stairs, towards the barricades. Ordinarily, Elijah may have questioned the wisdom of going closer to a rapidly crumbling door which held a giant army and five dragons behind it, but there was no time for that now. He followed Solomon obediently, his heart
hammering so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest and run around the city three times. His mouth was dry and he breathed quickly, in and out, trying to focus on just that and not the sound of the battering ram. Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sounds were coming even faster now, spurring the three of them on. Thud. Thud, Thud. They reached the last step as the doors exploded inwards, shattering dust and stone fragments everywhere. The bronze tipped battering ram crashed to the floor of the Temple as Guardians flooded through. From behind the barricades, a dozen arrows loosed and a dozen Guardians came away with all sorts of fashionable feathered neck jewellery. Then came the Seers. Screaming incomprehensibly, they loosed the raw timeline, multi-coloured streaks shooting across the temple and consuming the enemy. Within seconds, the front ranks of Guardians were nothing but dust. The Skylanders began to retreat, pulling back as another round of arrows decimated their remaining troops. “Pull ranks!” a shout came from within the Temple. “Hold your fire!”
Beyond the doors of the Temple, the Skylanders retreated en masse, pushing each other out of the way in a desperate effort to get out of bow range.
The dust settled and the struggling figures of hundreds of Skylanders came into sharp focus.
“Fire!” the commander shouted.
Another row of Guardians fell. The Seers attacked next and yet more died.
The retreat intensified even further, the Guardians trampling each other in a desperate effort to get away. Within seconds, they were hundreds of feet beyond the Temple, out of bow range and even attacks by the Seers, although some still sent death spinning at them from even that distance. A cheer erupted from within the assembled ranks of the Future Storm. But the Skylanders did not fall back further. In the distance, hundreds of feet away, the Guardians and Pulse-Masters reassembled, readying themselves. But they did not move forward.