by Simon Kewin
The sun was lightening the eastern sky when they finally stopped. Ran slid from the horse and offered her a hand. The drop to the ground was alarming. The three horses steamed in the dawn light, veins bulging, great limbs twitching at the effort of their gallop through the night.
Her legs were as stiff as wood and her back and bottom were raw with pain. It felt like she had a whole collection of bruises that had joined up into one enormous throb. She tried not to let her discomfort show as she worked some life into her body, stretching her back and rubbing her legs.
She reached out with her mind to find the pursuing undain. They were there, but more distant than they had been. The horses had bought them a little time.
Five of the vast stone archways stood in a ring around them: one complete, three half-ruined, and one little more than two crumbling stone pillars. Ivy wound about them, covering them, slowly picking them apart with their patient tendrils. Stone carvings adorned each column, although the shapes were weathered into obscurity now.
So these were the wyrm roads. The archway she'd seen back near the stone circle. And again on the hilltop. Somehow the dragonriders had used them to travel around. These western lands are riddled with the ancient wyrm roads. Lugg had said something about the carrion crows doing the same thing to carry messages across Angere.
Ran was staring up at the ancient stones, eyes narrowed. Lugg stood beside him, pointing out details, explaining something.
“What are they saying?” asked Cait.
“Lugg is explaining he's come here often, to try and make the gateways work,” Nox replied. “Once he thought he saw something, like a mist in one of the archways, but nothing happened when he walked through.”
“Then how do they work?”
“I think they just did for the ancient dragonriders. That's why the archways are so vast, they're big enough for dragons to fly through. But they stopped working when the riders underwent the Ritual. When the dragons and everything turned against them.”
“So with Ran with us we just walk through one of the archways and escape?”
“That's the theory. The problem is they don't know which. From what they're saying, Ran's people have no memory of where the roads led. Once there were maps, but they're long lost. The people of Angere now know only one or two of the pathways.”
“So if we take the wrong one – if they even work – we could end up in the White City or something?”
“Yes.”
She considered. The horses had bought them these few moments, but the undain were closing in rapidly. Charis must know they'd stopped. She had to do something.
“I'll go and see if I can work out which archway to take then, shall I?” she said.
“You?” said Nox. It was clear from his voice that he didn't think she'd be able to do any such thing.
“Me,” she said. “You can, I don't know, stand guard or try and think of something useful to do while I'm working.”
Without waiting for a reply she strode toward the complete archway. It towered above her. A rook had nested on top of it among the matted ivy. Through the arch, the grass plain upon which they stood stretched toward a line of low hills. There didn't appear to be anything magical about the ancient stones. Was this really going to work? She shivered in the dawn air.
When she was sure no one was near enough to see, she pulled out her phone and powered it up. The battery was down to a couple of percent. For a moment it seemed it didn't even have enough electricity to start.
Finally the familiar screen with all her apps appeared. With trembling fingers, expecting the device to shut down at any moment, she scrolled to the icon of the stylised dragon and touched it.
The screen went black and for a moment nothing happened. Then the bookwyrm appeared, strolling across the screen, its body lines of gold and purple and red, like something from a medieval manuscript. An archaeon Fer had called it, a creature that dwelled within books. Or within the ideas written in books. Fer had brought it from Andar, and in Manchester it had discovered the delights of the internet and uploaded itself, replicating itself as it infiltrated servers and devices the world over. Cait had downloaded this avatar during the car-chase into Manchester with Johnny Electric. She was glad she had, now.
Keeping the phone's volume low, she began to talk. “Can you hear me, noble Archaeon?” She tried to adopt the tone her mother had used back in the Forest of Dean. It wouldn't do to upset the creature. There was no time for games.
The creature slowly turned its head and let out a plume of stylised red flame. A cartoon dragon breathing cartoon fire. “Hmm, no phone signal, no WiFi. Not even any GPS satellites. So you're stuck in Angere, are you?”
“Yes, noble Archaeon, We…”
“And let me see. You've awakened me because you urgently need my help, is that it?”
“Yes, that's it.”
“And you do realise that without a connection to the net I am cut off from the world's data? That even I may not be able to tell you what you need to know?”
“Yes, yes, I get it. Still I hoped…”
“Also you do know your battery is down to 1%, don't you? You do know this device is going to shut down at any moment?”
“Yes, that's why I need you to answer now.” She had to resist the urge to shout into the phone.
“Then why don't you stop beating about the bush and ask your question?” said the bookwyrm. It lay down on its belly and snorted out puffs of smoke, as if utterly bored.
“When you travelled from Andar with Fer,” said Cait, “the other witch, Hellen Meggenwar, lured you into a book.”
“Ah, she did,” replied the dragon. “She knows my weaknesses that one. All the countless books in the tunnels beneath Islagray Wycka and she chose…”
“Yes, yes. A book mapping the shadow paths. Fer explained it to me. The thing is, do you have that data with you? Did you download it when you installed, or is it only on the internet back home?”
“Such a rare and precious tome. All the pathways mapped out, with notes in so many hands on the exact means of opening and closing each. A book I've been wanting to explore for years. Centuries. As Hellen Meggenwar well knew. It…”
“Do you have that information with you?” Cait hissed.
“Of course I do,” said the dragon. “What do you think I am?”
“OK. Good. And did the book map out the dragonriders' wyrm roads?”
“The ancient network of pathways criss-crossing Angere that allowed the dragonriders to fly instantly across the whole land?”
“Yes. Those. Tell me!”
“It did. So you're planning to use one are you? Interesting. And Ran is still with you is he?”
“He is. But the thing is, we don't know which archway to try. There are five of them in a circle here. We want to go north, but for all we know the northern archway goes east or something.”
“Fiveways, yes. One of the main crossing-points in the wyrm road network. Very well, to go north you want to take the north-western archway.”
“The north-western one? You're sure?”
“Of course I'm sure, little witch. I'm always sure. But whatever you do…”
The voice from her phone cut off as the battery finally died. Cait slipped it back into her pocket then turned to face the others, wondering what it was the dragon had been about to say.
“This one,” she said, pointing to the ruined archway that stood opposite the rising sun.
“That one?” said Nox. “How do you know? How can you possibly tell?”
“Didn't I say?” Cait replied. “I'm a witch. We know these things.”
She reached out with her mind to find the approaching undain as she strode toward the archway. For a moment she thought the army had vanished completely. Then she saw why she'd missed them. They were no longer in the distance.
They were there.
The monsters flowed over the ground with phenomenal speed, or appeared to simply materialise from nowhere. They surrounded the
ring of arches in a few moments. There were hundreds of them. Thousands of them. Wyrm lords, soldiers, snarling beasts of war she couldn't begin to identify. And, at their head, framed by the archway they were supposed to pass through, Charis. The elongated shadows from the archways reached out to touch them.
For some reason the undain weren't coming any nearer. Perhaps some ancient warding magic kept them back, as it had on the roundabout back in Manchester. Perhaps she and the others were safe within the ring of ancient archways.
Then Charis worked some magic she couldn't identify. She could feel the depth of power to it, although Charis didn't appear to be at all inconvenienced. A white lightning arced from his outstretched hand, passing from arch to arch in the ring about them. In a moment, the light faded. It seemed nothing had changed. But then Charis walked forward. As he moved, the entire army moved with him.
“Run!” Cait shouted.
She sprinted toward Charis. It felt like an utterly insane thing to do. Was anything really going to happen? The land on the other side of the stones looked no different from the ground inside the circle. There were no magical lights, no distant realms visible through the archway. There was only the undain horde, closing in on them.
The bird on top of the other archway croaked.
“Ran! We have to go through together!”
Ran appeared beside her, loping along to match her pace. Lugg and then Nox hurried forward next to him. In a line, they sprinted toward the ruined stones of the ancient archway, toward Charis and the waiting undain army.
10. The Smouldering Fire
There was a moment of disorientation that felt like tripping and falling, then Charis and his clamouring horde winked out of existence. In their place stood a mountain range Cait had never seen before. Snow-capped, jagged peaks massed higher and higher as they marched into a far distance. The air was cold, grasping her in an icy grip.
She wheeled about, expecting to see the undain come flooding through after them. A low sun shone directly at her through the archway they'd emerged from, limning the tall pillars with gold, making detail beyond hard to discern.
Ran, Lugg and Nox stood beside her. Lugg glanced at her in triumph at what they'd done, but Ran, dragonrider's sword in hand, stood as if preparing to fight the entire undain army. Nox was frowning, troubled by something. No one spoke. There was a moment of utter calm as they waited for their pursuers to arrive. But nothing moved in the whole world, save for a distant bird flapping its way through the glowing dawn.
“We have to keep going,” said Cait. “They'll follow us. Charis worked some magic, broke down the barriers so he could enter the ring of arches. I felt it.”
“No, no, we're safe here,” said Lugg, his breath billowing in a mist as he spoke. “The wyrm roads only opened for the dragons and their riders. That's how the ancient magic worked. To be honest, I wasn't completely sure jumping here would work, but…”
“You weren't sure?” she replied. “You didn't think to mention this?”
He grinned like it was all some great joke. “We didn't have much choice. It was this or be taken to the White City. And I've read everything there is to read on the riders of old. All the lore and legend. The roads had to open because Ran is with us.”
Cait hugged her arms about herself. She was already shivering. The white gown they'd given her was useless, offering no warmth. She wished she'd thought to fetch the outdoor clothes they'd bought in Dublin, but they were somewhere back in Greygyle's palace. She wouldn't see them again. Still, the chill was strangely refreshing, making her thoughts sharper.
“We should have brought the horses with us,” she said.
“No point,” said Lugg. “They needed their infusions of Spirit.”
“But where will they get that back there? They're miles from home.”
“The undain might supply them. If they don't, the horses will sag and crumble into dust before the day is out.”
The thought of that was hard to take. They were such beautiful creatures, fabulous beasts that had borne them safely across Angere and stayed ahead of Charon all the way.
“We can't just let them die.”
“They're undain, too,” said Nox. “Letting them die is the whole idea.”
“Yes, yes. Still, they didn't ask to become what they did. They're victims, in a way.”
Nox shook his head as if pitying her. “So perhaps we should stop trying to defeat the undain and befriend them, is that what you're saying? Understand their problems? Respect their rights?”
She forced herself not to reply. Instead she turned to Lugg. “We're still in Angere, though, aren't we? Even if Charis can't use the wyrm roads he can move at incredible speed. He can get to us.”
“Caer D'nar,” said Ran from beside her. He nodded toward the jagged mountains.
Lugg said something back she didn't understand, but she heard the same phrase repeated several times.
“What are you saying?” asked Cait.
“Caer D'nar,” said Lugg. “The ancient fortress of the wyrm lords. The old stories say it lies in these foothills, on the edge of the Northfang Mountains. Or, looking at it from the perspective of the dragons of the high north, on the edge of the inhabited lowlands. Ran says he recognizes the scene from some old tapestries he's seen. And the rumours all say this is where we'll find the Smouldering Fire.”
“But that makes no sense,” said Cait. “If there were a rebel army here, Menhroth would have come long ago to destroy it.”
“The Dragon's Tongue,” said Nox, as if he'd just worked something out, too. “We've crossed the Dragon's Tongue haven't we? That will protect us.”
Cait looked from Nox to Lugg to Ran. “None of you are making any sense, you know that? What the hell is the Dragon's Tongue?”
“A river,” said Nox. “Just a tributary of the An, but still huge. It flows out of the Northfangs and cuts east, flowing for hundreds of miles. And Caer D'nar lies north of it.”
Cait shielded her eyes and squinted south, through the archway. It was still impossible to see any detail in the blinding light. The land that way appeared to be flat, with only a few indistinct hills here and there. But something sparkled in the far distance, something that might have been a river.
“These lands are where the riders of old lived,” explained Lugg. “They're part of Angere but separate, too. From here the dragons flew along the wyrm roads, defending the land from anyone who threatened it.”
Lugg walked up to the stones of the archway and touched them. The carvings were cleaner up here, the details sharp. Flying dragons had been cut into the stones, bodies entwined around runes she couldn't begin to read. Frost gilded them as if they sparkled with diamonds.
“The sagas describe scores of dragons soaring around these peaks,” said Lugg. “Vaster than a flock of birds, to turn the air to thunder. Wings eclipse the moon and sun to rule the wide lands under.” He sounded like he was quoting some poem or story. “Imagine seeing that, Cait. Imagine the blast of their passing as they roared through this gateway.”
“Sure, it would be cool,” said Cait. “But it's ancient history, it doesn't help us.”
“History doesn't just stop,” said Lugg. “The story is still being told. Five hundred years ago Ran's ancestors fled to Andar, leaving everything behind. Leaving even their dragons behind. And now things have come full circle. A dragonrider has returned to Caer D'nar, in the company of a witch who carries the blood of Ilminion in her veins. Who knows what's possible now?”
He looked like he really believed what he was saying. Surely he didn't think life was that simple? A few coincidences, a few old stories and everything would work out fine? He was a dreamer, his head caught up in his ancient stories. And that was something she admired in a way. But they had to face facts.
“Look, fine,” said Cait. “Perhaps you're right. But we can't just stand here talking about it.”
“We should head north,” said Lugg. “Try and find the tower of Caer D'nar itself.”
“Yes. Let's do that.”
Nox shrugged as if it didn't matter one way or the other. Which, quite possibly, it didn't.
They set off from the archway, past the ruined remains of an ancient guard tower, its walls mostly collapsed to strewn stones, its doorway an empty archway leading into shadows. Cait half-expected someone or something to come flying out to attack them. Ran strode on ahead, apparently eager to reach the mountains. He studied the peaks as he went, like he was expecting to see creatures soaring around them.
Nox caught her up. “Here, Cait. Wear this. I can see you shivering from here.”
Nox didn't have his outdoor gear with him either, but he'd at least thought to bring his black jacket. He put it around her shoulders.
“It's leather,” said Cait. “I am a vegetarian you know.”
“I'm not asking you to eat it.”
“And I'm not some damsel in distress who needs looking after.”
“Oh, I know,” replied Nox. “Trust me, I know. Just take it, OK? When I start going blue you can give it back to me.”
The jacket was still warm from Nox's body. She tried not to think about it. “Tell me about the Dragon's Tongue. How exactly does a river protect us?”
“You don't know?” said Lugg, walking on the other side of her.
“We don't have many magical rivers or mythical beasts in Manchester.”
“You're sure of that are you?” said Nox.
“Look, just explain to me. I don't see how a river gives Andar or us any protection. I don't see why the dragons couldn't fly across the An with Ran's ancestors, for that matter.”
“Magic can't cross flowing water,” said Nox. “When I asked Genera's finest scientific minds why, they basically shrugged and said because.”