by K J Taylor
‘It’ll take a few days,’ said Horrige, ‘but we’ve been told to stay with you until you’re out of demon country, so fine. Let’s go.’
They went.
Four days later, they reached the eastern edge of the Third Mountain’s territory and found themselves close to the shores of a large lake. Lava had flowed into one edge of it, but the rest of the lakeside was lush and beautiful with willow trees and flowering irises in yellow, white and mauve.
‘All this scene needs is some lovelorn maiden singing with bluebirds,’ said Ambit. ‘I wouldn’t complain about it, either, as long as she was cute. Thanks, demons.’
Idron looked distastefully at the countryside. ‘No problem. Goodbye, Ambit and Snarl, and good luck.’
‘Thanks,’ said Ambit. ‘I guess you can go back to Saphron and tell him you saw us on our way.’
‘We will,’ said Horrige, and she and Coal waved goodbye and turned to leave.
Idron, though, stayed for a moment. ‘I want to thank you properly,’ he said. ‘You saved my life back there at the Third Mountain.’
Ambit grinned. ‘You know, the only time my spear should ever be out of my hands is when I’ve thrown it. But you’re welcome. Feel free to return the favour someday.’
‘I will,’ said Idron. ‘Goodbye, Ambit.’ He left.
‘Well, Snarl, this is a nice mess we’ve got ourselves into,’ Ambit said, once they were alone.
‘You’ve been waiting all this time to say that, haven’t you?’ said Snarl, stepping out onto the grass, which immediately shrivelled.
‘Yeah, it took me a whole day to come up with that,’ said Ambit. ‘Hang on a while, would you? I’ll have a bath, and then when I’m finished I’ll say the rest of it.’
‘Feel free,’ said Snarl, and went to dig herself a burrow while Ambit stripped and washed his clothes. He hung them up to dry and then dived into the lake, where he swam for a while, enjoying the touch of the cool water. According to his map, which he’d consulted earlier in the day, they should be quite close to the village of Lakeweed, where he could find somewhere to stay and get started with his quest.
‘You know, this is way too close to actually doing what the prophecy says I should be doing,’ he said once he was back on the bank and putting his damp clothes back on.
Snarl poked her head out of her burrow. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘and we’re going to have to be very careful. But think about it. You were face-to-face with one of the mountain lords, with your spear in your hands, but you didn’t kill him, did you? And you didn’t try and get the others out of prison.’
‘That’s true,’ said Ambit.
‘And if you can get the rest of them under lock and key, then you can’t band together with them and save the day, can you?’ said Snarl. ‘That’s what I was thinking when I suggested this whole thing.’
‘So it was your idea, was it?’ said Ambit. ‘Along with the one about kidnapping the princess back in Daisyfield.’
‘I wanted her out of the way,’ said Snarl. ‘She was a liability, not to mention being a little brat.’
‘No arguments there, but you could’ve warned me,’ said Ambit.
‘I would have if I’d had the opportunity,’ said Snarl. ‘Anyway, I like this plan better than the last one.’
‘We didn’t really have a plan before, did we?’ said Ambit.
‘Exactly,’ said the small demon. ‘We knew we wanted to ensure you didn’t fulfil the prophecy, but we didn’t have anything else in mind to do.’
‘Yes, we did,’ said Ambit. ‘We were planning to do whatever the fuck we wanted, remember?’
‘Yes, but in the end we would have been pulled into things,’ said Snarl. ‘You have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. At least this way we’ll be doing something to actively put a stop to this Chosen One nonsense.’
Ambit shrugged. ‘Or we could get ourselves killed. But at least we won’t be bored. I guess, in a way, this won’t be too different from what we were doing before – travelling around from village to village. I just hope the rest of the companions aren’t as obnoxious as Northrop. Just make me a promise, okay?’
‘Sure,’ said Snarl, ‘what is it?’
‘If it looks like I might turn into a hero, put a stop to it,’ said Ambit.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Snarl. ‘You don’t have a heroic bone in your body.’
‘Thank fuck for that,’ said Ambit.
Ambit went into Lakeweed village that afternoon, leaving Snarl outside as usual. It had been easy enough to find: they followed the lakeshore and found the village on the far side, built over the water on a series of large wooden piers. Irises grew everywhere between the buildings, and lilypads dotted the water around the docks where fishing boats bobbed up and down. Ambit went in search of a tavern and found one, albeit a very small one, which served a drink called Pondweed Wine. It was green, and tasted as vile as it sounded.
Ambit drank it anyway, sitting at a table near the bar and watching the locals around him. They looked like a peaceful enough lot, sitting around and boasting about their daily catch. Plenty of them were throwing curious looks his way and before long a man holding a mug of beer wandered over.
‘Hello, stranger,’ he said. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.’
‘I just got here,’ said Ambit. ‘Name’s Ambit.’
‘Alby,’ said the local. ‘That’s an impressive spear. Where did you get it?’
‘My grandfather left it to me,’ said Ambit, privately surprised to hear himself telling the truth this time. ‘Did you ever see anything like it before?’ he added, holding it a little closer.
Alby inspected it. ‘I’ll be damned. That looks like exactly the same metal as . . .’
Ambit blinked. ‘Yes?’
‘Oh, I know a lad around here who has a trident made from metal just the same colour as that,’ said Alby. ‘I never thought I’d see something like it again.’
‘Huh,’ said Ambit. ‘Where can I find the kid, then?’
‘He’s probably out on his boat by himself, as usual,’ said Alby. ‘He’s not a sociable sort. His parents were killed by demons.’
‘I suppose he keeps away from them now, then,’ Ambit probed.
‘You’d think so, but actually he keeps going to the lake at the edge of demon country in his boat,’ said Alby. ‘I get the feeling he’s hoping to see a demon so he can try and fight it. He’s good with that trident too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did pretty well at it.’
Ambit finished off his drink. ‘Well, that was easy,’ he said to no-one in particular.
‘What’s that?’ said Alby.
‘I said, do you know if I can borrow a boat?’ said Ambit. ‘I fancy some fishing.’
As it turned out Alby was willing to lend his boat to Ambit in exchange for a couple of demon eyes, and after a little coaching Ambit was able to paddle it out over the lake with his spear sitting in front of him. He kept close to the shoreline in case the boat tipped over, and stopped once or twice to try and spear a fish. It was harder than it looked, but he managed to catch a couple, and left them in the bows while he searched for the owner of the trident.
Remembering what Alby had said, he paddled the boat toward the far end of the lake, where it butted against demon country. Sure enough, when he reached it by late evening, he found another, smaller boat bobbing gently in the water beside a rock spike poking up from the lakebed. A skinny boy, younger than Ambit, was sitting in the boat, clutching a long silvery trident, and he looked up resentfully when Ambit’s boat arrived.
‘What do you want?’
Ambit waved. ‘Heyo. I’m Ambit. I heard you might be out here. You’re Rigby, right?’
The boy, whose hair was sandy brown streaked with pondslime green, looked at him suspiciously. ‘Yeah, what’s it to you, bluehair?’
‘Well . . .’ Ambit reached the rock spike, and used it to pull his boat around close to Rigby’s. ‘I heard you had an interes
ting weapon.’
Rigby looked at the trident. ‘Yeah. So?’
‘So I thought it might look a bit like mine,’ said Ambit, picking up the spear and holding it up for him to see.
The boy stiffened. ‘What the –? Let me see that!’
‘Swap you,’ said Ambit.
Reluctantly, Rigby passed over the trident. Ambit gave him the spear, and inspected the trident. Sure enough, it was made from the same metal as the spear, and covered in the same patterns. Its three prongs were wickedly sharp, with elegantly curved barbs. Ambit had found his man. Probably.
Rigby inspected the spear in amazement. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘My granddad gave it to me,’ said Ambit. ‘Where did you get the trident?’
‘From my grandfather,’ said Rigby. ‘Can I have it back?’
Ambit passed it over, and took back the spear. ‘Do you know how to use it?’
‘Of course I do,’ the boy scowled. ‘Who are you, anyway?’
‘Like I said, my name’s Ambit,’ said Ambit. ‘Ambit Afterman. And I think I came here to find you.’
‘Why?’ said Rigby.
‘Because I’m the Chosen One, and you’ve been waiting for me,’ said Ambit. ‘Haven’t you?’
The boy stared. ‘You’re –?’
‘Yeah,’ said Ambit, wishing he was better at melodrama. ‘You’ve got the mark on your hand, haven’t you? The silver bellflower? I do, too. Or I did.’
Silently, Rigby held up his right hand. And there it was – the silver bellflower, just barely visible in the gathering darkness.
‘There you go, then,’ said Ambit. ‘And it’s lucky I found you before the demons did. I heard what happened to your parents.’
‘They went into demon country and never came back,’ said Rigby, with a hint of a sniffle.
‘Yeah . . . mine died as well,’ said Ambit. ‘Demons ate their bones – it was pretty nasty. But you want to fight demons, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do!’ said Rigby. ‘I hate them.’
‘Then now’s your chance,’ said Ambit. ‘Come with me.’
‘And do what?’ said Rigby. ‘Fight demons?’
‘Do you know about the eight companions?’ said Ambit.
‘No, who are they?’ said Rigby.
‘As the Chosen One, it’s my destiny to fight the nine demon lords and then the demon king himself,’ said Ambit. ‘But I’m supposed to do it with help from eight special people. My eight companions. That’s why I’m here. I’m looking for them. And now I’ve found the first one: you.’
The boy’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’
‘Really,’ said Ambit, just managing to hide his boredom with the whole conversation.
‘So I can go with you?’
‘That’s right,’ said Ambit. ‘Why don’t we go ashore and we can talk properly? I’m getting bitten to death by mosquitoes out here.’
After that, Rigby was more than ready to follow him back to shore, where they found Snarl, and Ambit explained the situation as well as he could. By the end, Rigby was more than ready to come along.
‘Perfect,’ said Ambit. ‘And along the way we can train and stuff. And make friends and whatever. Right, Snarl?’
‘That’s it,’ she said. ‘And don’t worry, Rigby; I won’t try to eat your bones.’
Rigby kept his distance from her. ‘Don’t come near me, demon.’
‘I won’t,’ said Snarl. She sounded calm, but Ambit could tell she wasn’t enjoying this. He didn’t have any sympathy for her. As far as he was concerned, she’d brought this on herself.
He and Rigby spent the night in Rigby’s home, a little two-bedroom shack by the lake. In the morning, the boy packed his possessions, and he and Ambit left Lakeweed together.
‘One down, and three to go,’ said Ambit. ‘Where to next, Snarl?’
‘Snowapple, I think it was,’ said Snarl. ‘Near the Ninth Mountain.’
‘Up in the snow?’ said Rigby.
‘That’s right,’ said Ambit. ‘I hope you packed your woolly underwear.’
Rigby twirled his trident. ‘I can’t believe this! The Chosen One is real, and we’re going to save the world together.’
Ambit rolled his eyes. ‘Sure thing, kid.’ Silently, he hoped the rest of the companions were this naive.
The ninth of the Nine Mountains was one of the tallest, and the furthest north. It sat surrounded by other mountains, which it easily dwarfed, and though most of the rest were capped with snow the Ninth Mountain stayed bare and smoking.
The small town of Snowapple sat at the base of the mountains, surrounded by orchards. At this time of year it wasn’t actually snowing there, but it was certainly cold, and Snarl looked very unhappy about it.
‘There had better be a companion up here,’ she complained.
‘I’ll say,’ said Ambit.
It had taken them weeks to trek up to Snowapple, and along the way they had passed through several other villages. Ambit hadn’t enjoyed it much. Now he had an impressionable kid travelling with him he’d been forced to stay on his best behaviour, which meant saying no to all his favourite things and gritting his teeth while he played at being a responsible person and father figure. Fortunately, Rigby didn’t seem to notice that he was being bullshitted. He was more interested in exploring the countryside they found themselves in and, whenever they were near water, he would go fishing. He was good at it. In fact, he was very good with the trident in general. Ambit gave him some lessons, since he seemed to expect it, and found his new companion could already handle himself very competently. Ambit had a go with the trident, since it wasn’t that different from the spear, and discovered that it was a very well-made weapon: perfectly balanced, sharp, and impossible to break. It didn’t feel as ‘right’ as the spear did, though. Maybe he was just more used to his own weapon.
Along the way, when he would rather have been looking for some commitment-free female companionship, he asked around to see if he could find out anything about weapons that matched his spear. At first he didn’t have any luck, but when they reached the village of Leafdown, immediately south of Snowapple, something finally came up.
‘I heard about a woman up in Snowapple with a special weapon,’ an old purple-haired man told him. ‘She uses it to fight demons.’
‘Paydirt!’ said Ambit. ‘Er, I mean, that’s great. D’you know what her name is?’
‘No, but she visited here once,’ said the old man. ‘A tough little thing, she was. Had white-streaked hair.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Ambit. ‘Thanks.’
‘So we’ve found another one of the companions?’ Rigby asked later.
‘Looks like it,’ said Ambit. ‘If we’re wrong, we can still get some apples. Ever try one?’
‘No, have you?’
‘Once or twice,’ said Ambit. ‘They’re tasty. Snarl, are you coming, too?’
Snarl sat in the middle of the fire he had lit for her. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I’m going up to the Ninth Mountain. I’ll talk to the other demons there and see if I can find anything.’
‘Good idea,’ said Ambit. ‘Rigby and me will go and find this girl. Let’s set a date to meet up again. It should take two days to get to Snowapple, so why don’t we say . . . back here in a week’s time?’
‘I can do that,’ said Snarl. ‘I’ll see you then.’
They parted ways, and Ambit and Rigby hiked on through the hills toward Snowapple. It was lovely country here, but in a different way to the lowlands. The mountains made a majestic backdrop of grey rock patterned with white snow, which matched the clouds around the peaks. The sky behind them was an icy shade of blue, like the bluebells that grew on the hills around them. The grass here was tougher and greyer than lower down, and the trees were a blueish or greenish shade of grey. The only thing in this landscape which didn’t fit was the Ninth Mountain, whose slopes were black against grey, and whose top smoked endlessly; closer up, the sky would be red just as it had been by the Third Mounta
in.
‘Looks weird, doesn’t it?’ said Ambit.
‘It looks horrible,’ said Rigby.
Ambit shrugged. He was doing his best, but still couldn’t bring himself to rage and foam over the demon landscape. ‘It’s interesting up here,’ he said. ‘I hope we get to go to the seaside to find one of the companions. It’s been a while since we saw the sea.’
‘I’d like to go there too,’ said Rigby. ‘I’m a sailor after all. I always wanted to take a boat out on the sea.’
‘Tell you what,’ said Ambit. ‘When we’re done here, let’s go and visit Sandfire. It’s by the sea, and you never know – we might find someone there.’
‘Yes, please!’ said Rigby.
‘Right, then,’ said Ambit, and then stopped talking. This conversation was getting way too cute.
They went on for the rest of that day, and were in sight of Snowapple’s orchards by the time night came. They made camp there, and in the morning they pressed on to Snowapple. To get to it they had to walk through the orchards, which was fun. It was late in the season, but there were still some apples and peaches on the branches, and they knocked some down to eat along the way. Snowapple itself sat on a hilltop, and there were more fruit trees growing among the houses. Snowdrops grew there, too, alongside bluebells, and even a few specimens of the rarest flower of all: the silver bellflower. Ambit had never even seen one before, and he stopped to look at them. Sure enough each flower was a shimmery silver colour, shaped like a bell, but ending in five pointed petals. They hung from their stems like little ornaments, nodding in the icy breeze from off the mountains.
‘They’re so beautiful,’ said Rigby.
‘Yeah, I guess so,’ said Ambit, resisting the urge to stomp on the flowers. ‘Anyway, let’s get on and see if we can find this girl.’