Broken Prophecy

by K J Taylor

  Northrop started to hack at the walls of his prison. ‘Never!’

  The lava pen started to shrink. ‘Give them to me, or die.’

  ‘Hey, whoa!’ said Ambit. ‘You didn’t say you were going to hurt them. At least, not in front of me.’

  ‘Silence, traitor,’ Volcan growled. The holding pen shrank even further, forcing the eight companions to stand in a tight group. Meanwhile, other things had begun to emerge from the lava column. Demons, hot and spindly and newly born. They ignored Ambit and reached through the pen, wrenching the weapons out of the hands of their owners. The companions tried to resist, but had no room to fight, and none of them could touch either the wall of the pen, or the demons. They yelled in protest as the weapons were taken. But, one by one they were taken and thrown into the lava pit: the sword, the dagger, the staff, the trident, the bow and arrows, the club, the axe and the morningstar hit the molten rock and slowly sank from sight.

  Ambit felt a great surge of relief as they vanished. ‘And that’s that,’ he said. ‘Hi, Snarl.’

  Snarl climbed out of the pit, dripping and glowing. Her tail had completely regrown, and she looked a little larger than before. ‘I saw them go down,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, we’re free at last,’ said Ambit. ‘Now we can go and do whatever the fuck we want. And maybe we’ll even get a reward.’

  The pen around the eight companions suddenly hardened and crumbled, and the molten demons gathered around them, herding them out of the room.

  ‘You’ll pay for this, I swear,’ Northrop croaked as he stumbled away. ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to get my hands on you, Ambit.’

  Ambit made a mocking gesture at him. ‘Tell the harpy I said hi. And don’t worry, any of you. They’re not going to hurt you. Once the war’s over, they might let you go.’

  The companions left, some of them looking at the ground, but others looking back at him in horror and disbelief.

  ‘Idiots,’ Ambit muttered. ‘Thanks for getting rid of them for me.’

  The moment they were gone, things seemed to cool down a little. The light from the lava column became less intense and Ambit sighed in relief.

  Volcan, the surface of his face now starting to harden, looked down at him. ‘Now the prophecy can never come true,’ he said. ‘It would have, if not for you. I know you are the Chosen One, Ambit Afterman. Not an impostor the way Saphron and Ophel thought. You are the true Chosen One, and always have been. But the prophecy about you did not come true because of one thing, and that one thing was you. I do not understand.’

  Ambit shrugged. ‘What’s not to understand? My best friend is a demon. I’m not afraid of you, and I don’t hate you either. And I don’t want to save the world.’

  ‘You do not want to fight us, and defend your own kind?’ said Volcan. ‘Can you truly be so selfish?’

  ‘Uh, I guess so,’ said Ambit. ‘What’s the point of this interrogation, anyway?’

  ‘You have every reason to want to destroy us,’ said Volcan. ‘The demons from the Sixth Mountain killed your family and turned your home into a wasteland. You lost everything because of us.’

  ‘No, I lost everything because I was the Chosen One,’ said Ambit. ‘Everyone died because of this bullshit mark on my hand. It wasn’t because of anything I did. It was because of what I was. So I decided not to be that anymore. Simple.’

  ‘You never thought of revenge?’ the demon king pressed. ‘For your reward, will you not ask for the life of Lord Phos, who ordered the destruction of Vinewood?’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ said Ambit, ‘because revenge is for heroes, and I don’t want to be a hero. Can I go now? I already feel hungover. Now I want to go and earn it first.’

  ‘Will you not hand over the spear?’ asked Volcan. ‘It is the Chosen One’s weapon, and you say you do not want to be that.’

  Ambit fingered it. ‘Well . . . I’ve thought of getting rid of it, but it has sentimental value. All I’ve got these days is Snarl and this spear.’

  ‘Keep it, then,’ said Volcan. ‘In return for your help, I will order my followers here to bring gems and precious metals to the edge of this territory for you.’

  ‘Great,’ said Ambit, ‘nice doing business with you. C’mon, Snarl. See you later, sire.’

  ‘Farewell, Ambit Afterman.’

  Ambit turned to go, and then stopped. ‘Wait,’ he said, ‘what d’you mean you always knew I was the Chosen One? Snarl and I told Saphron and Ophel it was a lie.’

  ‘As I said, I have always known,’ said Volcan.

  ‘Why, did the Oracle tell you? He’s fine now, by the way.’

  ‘No,’ said Volcan, ‘I knew who you were many years ago, when Lord Phos told me. He had heard of a young demon in his territory, who told stories that the Chosen One lived in Vinewood and said that his name was Ambit Afterman. Phos ordered the destruction of Vinewood and sent me the news that the Chosen One must be dead by now.’

  ‘Sire –’ Snarl started to say.

  Ambit stared at her. ‘Wait, what? You mean . . .’

  ‘Snarl told us who you were when you were both young,’ said Volcan. ‘I was surprised to see you still with her. It seems you truly do not care about the fate of your family at all.’

  Ambit looked at him, and then at Snarl. ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding,’ he said eventually.

  Snarl took a step toward him. ‘Ambit, wait –’

  Ambit pointed the spear at her. ‘You told them about me way back then? You’re the reason they came and killed everyone?’

  ‘It was an accident!’ said Snarl. ‘Please, I didn’t know they would do that, I –’

  Ambit slammed the spear-point into the ground directly in front of the small demon’s snout. ‘You little shit,’ he said. ‘You unbelievable . . . you’ve been with me all these years knowing you did that?’

  ‘I didn’t mean to!’ Snarl shouted.

  ‘You’re the only one I trusted completely,’ Ambit said more quietly. ‘Why else would I have stuck with you? Guess I’m as stupid as you always said I was.’

  ‘No,’ said Snarl. ‘Ambit, it’s not like that, I –’

  Ambit pulled the spear back and stared at her for a moment. ‘Fuck you,’ he said at last, and walked off.

  Fifteen

  Ambit left the mountain and headed back the way he had come. On the way through the demon settlements, the occupants came out to see him just as they had before, but this time they cheered and waved to him.

  ‘Chosen One! Thank you!’

  ‘You’re the best!’

  ‘You got rid of those murderers for us – thank you so much! You’re the best human I ever saw.’

  Ambit waved back half-heartedly. ‘Don’t mention it, guys.’

  Some of them went even further than that. They came up to him and dropped precious stones and other treasures at his feet, apologising for not being able to hand them to him directly in case they burned him. Ambit gathered the offerings up and stuffed them in his pockets, nodding thank-yous to the grateful demons. Night had almost completely fallen by now, but several demons accompanied him, lighting his way out of their homes. Ambit didn’t say much to them. For once he wasn’t in the mood for talk. If Snarl had been there, he’d . . .

  No, he didn’t want to think about her anymore.

  One or two demons suggested he stop for the night, but he didn’t. He wanted to get away from the First Mountain as quickly as possible, even if he was tired. Besides, he was desperate for a drink of water, and he wouldn’t get one here.

  It wasn’t until after midnight that he reached the place where he and the others had left their bags. He said goodbye to the demons who had come with him, and slumped down to rest. He rummaged through the bags until he found a water bottle. In his own bag he found the flask of whiskey he’d been saving and drank all of it. He couldn’t be bothered to eat, and, besides, the whiskey went straight to his head. He lay down on the grass by the bags and fell asleep.

  The next morning he wo
ke up with a splitting headache. Some demons had come while he was asleep and had left a heap of various gemstones and nuggets of gold and silver beside him. The demons themselves had left, and he was alone.

  He emptied the packs and repacked his own with whatever would fit: the thickest blanket, the extra food, some clothes, and the treasure, which took up a ridiculous amount of space. He’d need to find somewhere to convert it into money as quickly as possible.

  But before he left, first things first.

  Ambit sat down, cross-legged, took his knife out of his belt, gritted his teeth, and began to slice the silver bellflower off his hand.

  When Ambit left his campsite, moving slowly now with a bloody bandage wrapped around his hand and wrist, there didn’t seem to be anywhere better to go than Lucknow City. It was the closest human settlement, and he’d be able to exchange the treasure for money there, as well as find somewhere to stay, and possibly a doctor as well. And, after that, a tattooist. He’d stay in Lucknow until his skin grew back, and then have it tattooed the way he should have done years ago. He’d have his whole hand filled with black ink before he let that bellflower mark ever show itself again.

  He walked along in silence, feeling the blood still coming from his mutilated palm. If Snarl was here she’d be telling him what a stupid thing he’d done, and he’d pretend not to listen, but he really would be listening. She was the only one whose opinions he had ever really cared about. But now Snarl was gone, and he was never going to see her again. If he did, he might not be able to stop himself from putting his spear through her head.

  ‘Damn it, Snarl,’ he mumbled to himself, ‘we were supposed to do the betraying together. You weren’t supposed to have betrayed me.’

  He couldn’t help hearing the Oracle in his head, saying those stupid words, reciting the prophecy he hated: Betrayal will destroy his home . . . It was coming true in reverse. And maybe he should be doing it. Maybe he should be going back to the Sixth Mountain and killing Lord Phos, the bastard Snarl had betrayed him to. And what did he need companions for, or even friends? Snarl had been his only real friend, and now she had turned out not to be worth it either. He could go off to the Nine Mountains by himself, and maybe die heroically. That might be better than this. Anything might be.

  Thinking grim thoughts like that, he followed the edge of First Mountain territory until he spotted Lucknow City, and headed toward it. His hand was really hurting now; not the sharp, screaming pain of before, but a deeper, more powerful kind of pain that didn’t mean anything good. The sooner he found a doctor or something to drink – preferably both – the better.

  Lucknow was the biggest human city he’d seen, and if the other towns and villages in the Land of Flowers were beautiful, Lucknow was outrageously so. It had been built over, and between, two hills, and the city’s non-demon side was sheltered by tall and stately trees. The city had walls around it, made from metal, not stone, and they weren’t flat but were made to look like silver trees with bronze vines woven between them, and the whole thing was of course festooned with actual vines with flowers in all the colours of the rainbow. Inside its walls, Ambit could see that the city was made from white stone, the roofs painted in multicoloured stripes. Trees grew between the buildings, most of them flowering, and banners featuring flowers flew from the ramparts of the king’s castle.

  There was only one thing that didn’t quite fit with all this colour. The city was surrounded on three sides by lush countryside, but at the front it was bordered by demon land and, beyond that, the looming shape of the First Mountain. Not only that, but at the edge of demon territory a deep trench had appeared, which was so long it went for miles along the front of the city and beyond, and was filled with bubbling lava. Ambit knew exactly why it was there. The demon king must have created it to act as a barrier between himself and the humans. Nobody would be able to cross that, and going around it would make attacking the First Mountain a lot harder.

  Ambit shrugged and went past it, heading for the city’s main gates. They were closed, but a pair of brightly-dressed guards, with rainbow-coloured silk banners hanging from the tips of their spears, opened them and let him in without any questions.

  Inside, the city was just as impressive as it was on the outside. The streets were stone rather than dirt. Herbs and other plants grew everywhere in the gaps, even in the walls of the houses, and, of course, nobody had done anything to stop them. The people here looked richer. Their clothes were brighter and finer, and more of them wore jewellery. Many of them had multiple colours in their hair, though none were as luridly rainbow as Etarina. Ambit wondered if she’d stopped whining yet in whatever cell the demons had put her in, and to his slight dismay he found himself wishing she was there with him so he’d at least have someone to talk to.

  ‘Shit, I’ve been on my own for a day and I’m already cracking up,’ he muttered.

  A few questions helped him find a jeweller’s shop, where he exchanged the treasure for an obscene amount of demon eyes. Feeling slightly more cheerful, he hired himself a place to stay, with a washroom attached where he cleaned himself up and dressed in a fresh set of clothes he’d bought. With that out of the way he found a place to eat, and after that headed for the nearest pub, where he settled down for the rest of the day.

  Around his fourth drink he overheard someone at the bar. ‘Did you hear? The Chosen One came! For real! He’s finally come! They say he’s travelling to the First Mountain to challenge the demon king and rescue the princess. Our king already made a decree that everyone has to help him, and that he’s welcome here any time.’

  ‘I heard our king wants to see him,’ the man’s friend added. ‘Like he put out a summons for the Chosen One to come and meet him. I reckon he wants him to lead the army with the eight companions, that’s what I think.’

  Ambit’s hand was starting to throb again. He spat on the floor and started on drink number five.

  ‘Can you believe it?’ someone else was saying. ‘The Chosen One, here! I hope I get to meet him. They say he’s the tallest man alive.’

  ‘. . . he’s going to save us all from the demon king.’

  Ambit gulped down number five, and snatched up number six. His hand was hurting savagely, and the sounds around him had started to merge together into a meaningless babble. But he still caught snatches of it here and there, and it did absolutely nothing to improve his mood.

  ‘. . . he’s the bravest man in the Land of Flowers . . .’

  ‘. . . he can’t be hurt . . .’

  ‘. . . he’s the mightiest warrior in history . . .’

  Ambit finished number six, and got up to buy the next round. While he was waiting at the bar, the man next to him kept talking in an unbearably loud voice: ‘I reckon the demon king’ll surrender if he so much as sees the Chosen One and the eight companions. That’s what I think.’

  Ambit grabbed him by the front of his shirt. ‘Shut the fuck up!’ he roared in the man’s face.

  The man’s friend rushed to the rescue, but Ambit had already let him go. He went back to his table, snatched up his spear, and stomped off to find another place to drink. But somehow he had the feeling he wasn’t going to enjoy it no matter where he went.

  The sound of shouting outside Ambit’s window woke him up the next day. He got up, clutching his head, and staggered out into the street to find out what was going on. People were rushing about everywhere, stopping to tug on friends’ elbows and urge them to come along.

  ‘Whassat?’ Ambit asked the nearest person, a woman. ‘Whass goin’ on?’

  ‘Didn’t you hear?’ said the woman. ‘Some demons have come to the city gates!’

  ‘Oh,’ Ambit said blankly.

  ‘They’re asking to see the king,’ said the woman. ‘The nerve of it! Everyone’s going to see what happens.’

  ‘Oh,’ Ambit said again.

  ‘Come along as well if you want,’ said the woman. ‘Maybe you should put some pants on first.’

  Ambit glanced
down at himself. ‘Oh, right.’

  He went back to his room and got dressed. His spear was leaning against the bed, so he grabbed it and went into the city to see what was going on. He just hoped he wasn’t going to have to do any fighting. He was sick to death of it, and anyway, his hand had started to bleed again. He should really go and find a doctor sometime today.

  About a hundred people had already gathered at the city’s front gates, which were tightly closed. A semicircle of guards was holding them back, and more had been stationed at the gate itself. Luckily, Ambit was tall enough to be able to see over most of the heads in front of him. He straightened up and craned his neck to peer through the gate. Sure enough, a small group of demons was standing just outside – all human-sized. They must have already said their piece, because now they were standing still and just waiting, apparently hoping for some kind of response. Ambit guessed that they had come to make a proposal in exchange for the return of the princess.

  For the time being, the crowd stood and chattered excitedly – a few quick-thinking people were even selling snacks. Some people closer to the gates shouted insults at the demons, who stared back blankly and said nothing.

  Eventually, just as Ambit was starting to get bored, the cordon of guards ushered the crowd aside and let someone through – a big, muscular man in armour, with a rainbow plume on his helmet. He looked as if he were in command: the other guards saluted him as he passed, and he kept his chin up and ignored everybody, the way a really powerful man would. He went straight to the gate and spoke to the demons, without opening it.

  ‘What do you want, demons?’ His voice was imperious, in a way that sounded rather familiar to Ambit.

  The foremost demon came closer. ‘My name is Diamons,’ she said. ‘I am an emissary for King Volcan. I came here asking to speak to the king himself.’

  ‘I’m Lord Deever, head of the royal guard,’ the man answered, ‘and you can speak to me or leave, demon.’

  ‘Do you speak for your king, the way I speak for mine?’ asked Diamons.