by Adam Blade
“Magician’s tricks,” Castor grumbled.
Gwen skinned and gutted the first rabbit swiftly, tossing the entrails to Gulkien, who snatched them up with bloodstained jaws. Before she could start the second, Castor grabbed the dagger from her hand.
“Hurry up, will you?” he said. He began to hack at the carcass.
“What are you doing?” Rufus said. “There’ll be no meat worth eating!”
Castor dropped the rabbit at Gwen’s feet. “Calm down, Rufus. Not everyone’s been as lucky as you, living in a cave and skinning rats,” he said.
Rufus’s eyes darkened. “Well, at least Gwen knows what she’s doing.”
Castor sniffed. “Too bad she’s busy daydreaming about her traitor brother.”
Tanner saw Gwen flush, but instead of attacking Castor, she drifted across the cave with her arms folded in front of her. Even a week ago, she’d have lunged for him. Something’s changed in her, Tanner thought.
It wasn’t surprising after everything she’d been through — the death of her brother, his return as a living corpse, his final fall from the cliff. Tanner glared at Castor and went after her. She gazed out toward the Avantian horizon with its scattering of villages and fields. There were no strict boundaries, or hadn’t been until the arrival of Derthsin. Now every town and village, however small, had a line of defense.
Tanner saw tears sparkling in the corners of Gwen’s eyes.
“He’s just being Castor,” he whispered. “He doesn’t mean it. You know what he’s like.”
“He’s right, though, isn’t he?” she said sadly, looking at the ground. “Geffen did betray us.”
Tanner put his arm around his friend, unsure of what to say. Gwen’s twin brother had been kidnapped by General Gor, who’d thought he held the secrets of Jonas the Mapmaker. Gor had been wrong — Jonas had confided his knowledge to Gwen instead. Tanner and the riders had managed to rescue Geffen but he’d abandoned them, stealing a piece of the mask and falling under the evil sway of Gor and his leader, Derthsin. The boy had made a terrible mistake and had paid a terrible price: brought back to life as a fighting corpse — an undead soldier. Only by taking his own life had he ended the curse. Gwen had watched her brother throw himself from a cliff ledge.
“At least he’s not suffering anymore,” said Tanner.
Gwen looked up. “I wish I could understand what happened to him,” she said. “I keep asking myself: Why would Derthsin do such a thing?”
“He wanted to hurt you,” he said. “Hurt all of us.” Tanner squeezed his eyes tight shut for a moment. He would never forget the green, rotting flesh peeling from Geffen’s bones. “What better way than by using the person dearest to you? But you must stay strong, Gwen. Show him that his games won’t defeat you.”
She smiled thinly, her shoulders sagging. Tanner reached for Gwen’s belt and pulled her rapier, with the hilt like a wolf’s head, from its sheath. Dried blood still streaked the blade from their last battle.
“You have to clean it,” Tanner said. “Otherwise it will rust.”
Gwen’s fingers tightened around the hilt. “For Geffen,” she said grimly. She embraced Tanner in a quick hug. “Thank you.”
“What a touching little scene,” sneered Castor from the cave.
Tanner broke away from Gwen. “Stop it, Castor.”
But Castor was on his feet now, kicking the rabbit fur out of the way. He brushed the blond locks from his face and took a couple of steps toward Tanner. “Very convenient, isn’t it?” he said. “No one seems to be pointing the finger of blame.”
Tanner gritted his teeth. Don’t get angry.
“Blame for what?” asked Rufus, picking up the rabbits and continuing to skin them.
Castor shrugged his muscular shoulders. “For letting Gor get away, of course. If Tanner had killed him in that battle in the castle ruins, maybe Geffen wouldn’t have attacked Gwen. Maybe …” He paused. “Maybe he could have been saved.”
Tanner glared at Castor, his feet rooted to the ground even though every sinew wanted to explode. Stay calm, stay calm … Ever since Tanner had put the piece of the mask over his face, he seemed less able to control his anger.
“That’s not fair,” snapped Gwen. “There’s no saying what might have happened.”
Castor took a few more cocky steps closer, arms spread wide, never taking his eyes off Tanner. He jabbed a finger in Tanner’s direction. “I’m surprised our fortune-teller here didn’t foresee it. He’s had one vision from wearing the mask — or so he says.”
Don’t fight him, called Firepos.
But it was too late. Tanner’s anger finally boiled over. How dare Castor mock his premonition about the death of a Beast? With a cry, he threw himself at Castor.
Oooo!
Tanner pushed Castor against the cave wall, then drew back his fist and punched. His knuckles smashed into Castor’s cheekbone, and Castor howled in pain. Tanner punched again, but Castor ducked underneath the blow and Tanner’s hand hit the wall. Pain flared across his scuffed fingers. Castor slipped a foot behind Tanner’s leg and tripped him backward, but Tanner grabbed Castor’s tunic collar and they fell together in a tangle of limbs.
“I’ll kill you!” shouted Castor. His Beast hissed, lips peeled back from her fangs. Firepos flapped her huge wings, sending out curls of fire from her rainbow feathers.
Tanner managed to get his hands around Castor’s throat and pressed all his weight on the other boy’s chest. “I’d like to see you try!” he shouted.
Control yourself, came Firepos’s angry message. Tanner could hardly bear to listen.
“Stop it!” said Gwen.
Castor punched Tanner, and he fell sideways with a grunt. Castor staggered up and drew back his leg to kick Tanner, but Tanner lashed out with his foot, catching Castor’s knee. Castor sucked in a breath and backed off, clutching his leg. He crashed into Rufus, knocking the rabbits into the fire.
“Great!” shouted Rufus. “Now you’ve ruined dinner!”
Tanner clambered to his feet, flexing his fists. He noticed that Falkor had lifted his head on his scaly neck, watching them both.
“Had enough?” Tanner said to Castor.
Castor wiped his nose, streaking blood across his cheek. “What do you think?”
He ran at Tanner, swinging a fist, but Tanner caught his arm and twisted, hoisting Castor off his feet. Castor’s momentum pulled Tanner down, too, and they rolled together out of the cave. Castor lashed out with his fist, catching Tanner’s temple and making him reel. He punched blindly and heard Castor grunt. Tanner’s eyes swam into focus. Castor was clutching his stomach, doubled over.
“That all you’ve got?” hissed Castor.
Tanner jumped up. Time to finish this. Something seized his collar. He turned. “Gwen! Let me …”
Not Gwen. Firepos had his tunic gripped firmly in her beak. She yanked him back, and he landed in the mud with a splat. Tanner looked up into her blazing eyes. “Why’d you do that?” As if he had to ask. He suddenly felt clumsy and stupid, shame burning his cheeks.
Castor laughed and picked up a piece of charred firewood, glowing orange at one end and trailing sparks. As he took a step toward Tanner, a dark shadow landed almost noiselessly between them. Nera nudged Castor with her foreleg. As he stumbled back, she turned to Tanner and snarled, revealing her daggerlike fangs. Then she twisted to Castor and growled menacingly. Firepos let out a soft caw.
Enough.
Castor dropped the piece of wood. “It’s lucky your Beast came to protect you,” he said, stalking back into the cave. Inside, Tanner saw Gwen shaking her head as Rufus tried to rescue what he could of the rabbits from the fire.
Tanner sat up, letting air cool his skin and the fury that boiled beneath. His fist was red, both with his own blood where he’d cut his knuckles and Castor’s. A wave of revulsion swept through him, taking the last of his anger with it. What’s gotten into me? he thought.
Firepos lowered her head and brushed his s
houlder with her beak. Tanner knew exactly what had infected him. It’s not just Firepos’s blood. It’s the mask, too. Knowing that the three pieces were in Rufus’s cape made the hot fever coursing through his veins move even faster. He wanted to put them on, fight anyone who dared approach — spill their blood. Even my friends, he thought, shame tearing through him.
Tanner put a hand on the tawny feathers behind Firepos’s head and heaved himself to his feet.
The hatred that fogs his mind has gone, snatched away like clouds by the breeze. His eyes meet mine, full of remorse. Yes, I understand, Tanner. You only wore a fragment of the Mask of Death, but the Face of Anoret holds a power that infects the mind and fills the wearer with bloodlust.
You must fight its power if you are to wear it again, especially now that my blood flows in your veins. My power, combined with the bloodlust of the Mask of Death, could be disastrous for Avantia.
Listen, and listen carefully, companion of mine: Your mind is tainted, but it is still your own. The boy Castor is your friend, though it may not seem so now. Stay strong, Chosen Rider. Without you, our journey will be for nothing.
Does Tanner hear me? He may be too full of fury to listen.
Tanner had closed his mind to Firepos. Just for now, he told himself. I need to think straight. He walked back into the cave and found Castor poking the fire aimlessly with a stick. Gwen and Rufus watched him closely. He held out his hand.
“Sorry,” he said. “We’re all tired.”
Castor looked at the hand and snorted.
Tanner didn’t have any anger left. “If we don’t stick together, we’ll be letting down all those who’ve died. My grandmother Esme, Geffen, the people of Colton, Forton, and Hartwell. Those boys in the mines …”
My parents.
He remembered Derthsin’s sword sliding between his father’s ribs, his mother’s screams as the soldiers dragged her away.
We’ve lost so much, he thought. Would he ever see his mother again? He wasn’t even sure he could remember her face. Would he recognize her if he did meet her?
Castor turned from the fire, his face flushed, and took Tanner’s hand. He gave a small nod. “We should eat.”
The charred rabbit was tough as boot leather, but Tanner felt better having some meat in his belly. As Rufus kicked over the embers of the fire, they each settled down to sleep. Stars twinkled overhead. Tanner could feel the night getting colder with each passing moment.
Tomorrow we travel, he told himself. Tomorrow, it begins again.
Gwen unrolled the map of the kingdom and smoothed its dry, cracked edges flat. The four friends gathered around in the dim gray light of dawn as she opened her locket. The folded gossamer, as light as a butterfly’s wing, seemed to fall open like a shimmering cloud, so thin it was almost invisible but for a diamond sparkle where it caught the light. It billowed even with the softest touch of their breath, and she laid it flat over the map. Tanner felt Firepos’s shadow move over him, and Falkor coiled inside the cave to focus the dark pools of his eyes on the map. Gulkien crept closer with Nera at his side, until all four Beasts stood watching patiently with their riders.
As Gwen shifted the gossamer into position, the surface of the map blurred and then became clear before Tanner’s eyes: the kingdom sprinkled with a thousand details: ridges, valleys, fields, and roads. The sea, lapping against the western shore, seemed almost alive. Names, scored in tiny, perfect lettering, appeared across the terrain.
“Look!” said Rufus, pointing a trembling finger toward the east of the kingdom.
For a moment, Tanner’s eyes fixed on the bulk inside Rufus’s blue cloak — the three pieces of the mask.
“Tanner?” said Castor.
Tanner tore his gaze to where Rufus was pointing, and his heart thumped in his chest when he saw where the final piece of the mask had appeared.
“It’s by the great volcano,” said Gwen.
“That’s where Firepos almost killed Derthsin, years ago,” Tanner said. “Where it all began. Where Derthsin should have died.” His eyes fell on the word “Forton,” spelled out in tiny letters not far from the volcano’s slopes. “Near my home, too.”
“Geffen’s seen … saw … the map as well,” said Castor. “He would have told General Gor or Vendrake where the mask is.”
“They might be heading there already,” added Rufus, using his staff to stand up.
Tanner felt a wave of exhaustion. Castor was right. And Derthsin had a whole army at his disposal, rearmed and re-energized. He shuddered at the thought of the massed black-clad ranks, the riders on drooling, snapping varkules thirsty for blood. How could the four of them defeat a force that size, even with their Beasts? But he kept his thoughts to himself as he looked at his friends. Their hopes need kindling, not drowning with despair.
As he turned, he saw that Rufus had moved to sit a few paces away, near the mouth of the cave. He cast a handful of the rattling bone pieces onto the ground, and peered at the scatter with a smile. Tanner had given up trying to see a pattern in them. They were as impossible for him to read as Esme’s rune stones had been.
When Rufus saw him looking, he snatched up the bones and turned his back. As he did so, one of the three pieces of the mask fell out of his cloak.
Tanner jumped forward and snatched it up. The section was from the upper right side of Anoret’s face, rough with ridges and hardened scales. Tanner turned it over and stroked his fingers across the smooth, pelt-like inner surface.
Rufus held out his hand. “Better if I look after it,” he said.
Tanner drew back. “Yes,” he said, but he clutched it to his chest. The hollow eye socket of the mask locked him in a hollow stare. I could put it on….
“Give it to me, Tanner,” said Rufus.
I could wear it again. I could take a swift revenge….
Give it back, said Firepos. Distracted, Tanner had allowed his mind to open up to his Beast again. The flame bird’s voice broke through Tanner’s muddled thoughts. He held out the fragment, and Rufus snatched it back, staring hard at Tanner.
“Don’t worry,” he said, giving a brittle smile. “I’ll keep it safe.”
“Are we going or not?” asked Castor. He tied on his sword belt and marched out of the cave, seemingly oblivious to the tension.
Tanner helped Gwen roll up the map. “We have to stick together,” she said. Her voice was soft but firm. Did she realize what was happening there? Does she know how I feel? Tanner felt sick to his stomach at the treacherous thoughts flooding him one moment, only for him to find the strength to push them away the next. What type of person have I become?
You’re a brave fighter, Firepos reassured him. With a good heart. Don’t forget that.
“Don’t worry,” Tanner told Gwen, trying to control the tremor in his voice. “We will.”
As he took up his sword from the side of the cave, feeling its familiar weight around his hips, Tanner’s weariness slipped away. Firepos’s words had done their job; they’d made him feel better about himself. The sky had blushed to pink as the first rays of morning sun trickled through the trees. Outside the cave, Castor already sat astride Nera, and the massive cat was padding down toward the trees. Typical, thought Tanner with a wry smile. He never waits for anyone!
Firepos screeched and lowered a wing for Tanner to climb up. He settled into her warm feathers. “Time to fly again, old friend,” he said. He brought his face down close to her head. “Thank you,” he whispered.
With a hiss, Falkor slithered past the cave entrance, following in Nera’s tracks. Rufus was astride his back. Gulkien growled and leaped up onto a boulder, gripping the rock with his claws and flexing his leathery wings.
“Let’s not get separated,” Gwen said to Tanner, climbing onto her Beast’s back. “Take us up, Gulkien,” she said.
The air wolf bent his powerful rear legs and leaped into the sky. With two heaves of his wings, Gulkien climbed over the cave.
Firepos lifted her wings and sprang
up. As she rose above their campsite, Tanner’s heart filled with a mixture of exhilaration and dread. The rain had stopped completely, and a rainbow arced in the distance over the great plains. Beyond it, the sky looked black and stormy; the weather could change at any moment.
Firepos flew up in a tight spiral into the thin shreds of cloud that remained. Tanner leaned close to her warm feathers as a chill morning breeze ruffled his clothes. He tried to forget about the mask.
As Firepos wheeled around to fly after Gulkien, Tanner peered over his Beast’s side. Beneath them, Nera slunk between the trees and flashes of Falkor’s glittering scales became visible as he slithered through the forest. Tanner’s hand traveled down Firepos’s body and found the bare patch of scarred skin beneath her wing. It was an old scar she carried from her battle with Derthsin, when she dropped him into the volcano, his hand still clutching one of her feathers. Somehow, Derthsin had survived. It was almost as if their destinies were connected, and now Tanner had drunk the flame bird’s blood, the threads of their three lives seemed more entwined than ever. Derthsin had spilled Firepos’s blood and Tanner had drunk it. And all of this had happened because Derthsin wanted the Mask of Death to control the Beasts of Avantia for his own evil ends.
Firepos put on a burst of speed. Exhilaration flooded Tanner’s veins. I won’t be cowed! No matter what pain the past had brought, together they could end the curse that covered Avantia like a black shroud.
Gwen looked back and smiled. Tanner waved, but her smile changed quickly to a frown. She pulled on Gulkien’s fur and the wolf tipped his wings, slowing until Firepos and Tanner flew up alongside them.
“What is it?” Tanner called over.
Gwen pointed back the way they’d come. “I thought I saw a movement in the mouth of the cave we just left. It looked like a person.”
“You’re sure?” he asked.
She nodded. Tanner looked as well, but could see nothing. “Firepos, call to the others. We need to stop.”
As the flame bird dipped her wings, dropping down to a patch of high, rocky ground, she let out a series of short caws. Nera and Falkor changed direction and the Beasts gathered on the rocks. Nera’s pink tongue hung from her mouth as Castor slipped off her back. “What’s going on, Tanner? Your Beast tired already?”