Broken Prophecy

by K J Taylor

  ‘Yes,’ said Deever, ‘now speak.’

  The demon drew herself up. ‘Your Princess Etarina is being held under the First Mountain, in the care of my king,’ she said. ‘She is not hurt and is being looked after. As proof, we have this.’ She held up something Ambit couldn’t see, but he guessed it was a lock of the princess’ hair, or maybe a scrap of her clothing.

  Several people who could see it groaned loudly.

  ‘Give her back,’ said Lord Deever, ‘immediately.’

  ‘The princess will not be hurt,’ said Diamons. ‘My king wants to negotiate for her release.’

  ‘And what does he want in return for her?’ Deever demanded.

  ‘Peace talks,’ said the demon.

  The crowd jeered. ‘Peace?’ one woman yelled. ‘With demons?’

  ‘Next we’ll be making peace with scorpions,’ a man next to Ambit sneered.

  ‘They’d have to give up on the bone-eating first,’ said Ambit. ‘Could be a bit of a hurdle.’

  Deever waved them into silence. ‘The only peace will be when the Chosen One drives your kind out of our land for good, demon. Now get out of here, or my men will cut you down to size.’

  ‘That will never happen,’ said Diamons, and as she spoke Ambit could have sworn she looked straight at him standing there in the crowd. ‘The Chosen One is gone.’

  Deever stiffened. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that he came to us at the First Mountain with his eight companions and all of them were killed,’ said Diamons. ‘If you choose to rely on the Chosen One to save you, you will wait forever. Now, what is your final answer?’

  The crowd moaned.

  ‘That’s a lie!’ someone shouted.

  ‘This is your only chance,’ said Diamons. ‘Negotiate with us now, or the princess dies and we will overrun your city, which we could do at any time.’

  Deever gaped, and then shouted at her. ‘Get out of here! Go on, run back to your lava pit and never come back. Go!’

  ‘You will regret this,’ Diamons promised, and walked away with her friends.

  ‘Well, that didn’t go too well,’ Ambit said.

  The crowd broke up, confused and angry, and the Chosen One sloped off to go and find a doctor.

  There were plenty of medical professionals in the city, many of them with signs outside their offices boasting about their expertise in treating burns. Ambit chose one at random, and handed over a ludicrous number of demon eyes to have his hand examined. The doctor, a weedy little woman with purple-striped hair, peeled the bandage off and winced when she saw what was underneath.

  ‘What did you do, get your hand caught in a bacon slicer? When did this happen?’

  Ambit hadn’t finished grinding his teeth, so he didn’t answer, but he winced when he looked at his hand as well. The bandages had turned into a giant scab, and the moment they came off the wound had opened up again and started to bleed everywhere. The pain shot to his fingertips and up his arm to the elbow like racing fire ants.

  ‘Well, I’d better clean it up for starters,’ said the doctor, waving to her assistant to bring over a bowl of some clear liquid. She dipped a cloth in it and dabbed the blood and other nasty bits and pieces away from Ambit’s palm.

  It stung, a lot, and Ambit dug the fingers of his other hand into his thigh, swearing.

  The doctor examined the wound again. ‘There’s hardly any skin left under all this. What did you do?’

  ‘Never mind. Just stitch it up,’ said Ambit.

  ‘All right, but you’re going to have massive scarring on your hand,’ said the doctor.

  ‘Good.’

  ‘It’ll take a while to heal, and you might never be able to use your hand properly again,’ she added.

  ‘I don’t give a shit. Just fix it,’ said Ambit.

  ‘Right, right,’ said the doctor. ‘Drink this first.’

  Ambit tossed back the painkiller she gave him, and quickly sank into a pleasant haze that left his wounded hand far, far away. He watched with detached interest while the doctor cut away infected skin and flesh and tried to stitch what was left back together. Once she was finished she put a dressing on it and bandaged it up tightly.

  ‘All right, I did what I could,’ she said, ‘but you’ll have to unwrap it in a few days and put more ointment on it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t ssay no to more of this painkiller ssstuff,’ Ambit slurred.

  ‘I’ll give you a small supply,’ said the doctor. ‘Be careful with it. Too much can be very bad for you.’

  Ambit cradled his bandaged hand against his chest, only vaguely aware of what was being said to him. ‘Why is the stuff you want always the stuff you’re not allowed to have?’ he complained.

  ‘Because it’s a cruel world,’ said the doctor. ‘Now off you go.’

  Ambit left feeling sorry for himself in spite of the haze over his brain. He thought of having another go at drinking his troubles away, but his stomach had other ideas. He bought some food instead and ate it without really tasting any of it, and wandered back to his hired room as the painkiller started to wear off. He should get some sleep before his hand started screaming at him again. If Snarl was here she could have cauterised it for him, but she’d have told him off first . . .

  Ambit slumped onto the bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

  Even in his sleep he wasn’t allowed any peace. He had a dream, but it didn’t have any naked girls in it. Instead, he dreamed about demon country. He was walking over dark, sharp stony ground by a river of lava. His spear was in his hand, and he was alone. He walked along in no particular direction, looking for the edge of this demon territory, but he couldn’t find it. Dead rock stretched in every direction, and the only landmarks he could see were mountains. All nine of them, their tops belching smoke and lava.

  ‘Where’s the grass?’ Ambit wondered aloud. ‘I thought there was a tree.’

  ‘There aren’t any trees anymore,’ a voice answered.

  Ambit looked to his right, and there was an old man walking alongside him. The man was tall and gangly like himself, with the same blue-spotted hair and silver eyes.

  ‘Oh, hi, granddad.’

  The old man stared at him. ‘Ambit, what have you done?’

  ‘Plenty,’ said Ambit. ‘Which particular done were you thinking of? Where’s the tree?’

  ‘There are no trees anymore,’ said the old man. ‘Look.’

  Ambit looked, and there were no trees. All he saw were demons, suddenly there, around him. They came climbing out of the lava river, flaming and growling, their huge feet making the ground shake.

  ‘Did the trees burn?’ said Ambit.

  ‘Yes,’ said his grandfather, ‘everything burned. There are no trees, there is no grass. Everyone is dead. Now, the only thing left alive is them.’

  Ambit watched the demons, who didn’t seem to see either of the two humans. They squatted together, crunching on the bones of their victims.

  ‘So, no trees,’ said Ambit. His dreaming mind seemed to have latched onto that point, and wouldn’t let it go.

  ‘No,’ said his grandfather, ‘and it’s all your fault. What did you do? Why didn’t you save the world? You turned your back on us.’

  ‘I kept the spear, didn’t I?’ said Ambit. ‘Anyway, those companions were obnoxious.’

  ‘They trusted you.’

  ‘More fool them.’

  ‘You betrayed them.’

  ‘So?’ said Ambit.

  ‘So you betrayed your own kind,’ said his grandfather. ‘Left them to this.’

  They walked on past the feasting demons.

  ‘What’s the point?’ Ambit asked. ‘It’s over now. What d’you want, an apology?’

  ‘It’s not too late,’ said his grandfather. ‘You’re an Afterman. You can take the weapons back and set the companions free. You can stop this.’

  ‘Stop what?’ said Ambit. ‘They’re just demons doing what they do. I mean . . .’

  ‘You must
stop it,’ his grandfather insisted. ‘Save us all from this. It’s your destiny.’

  ‘Fuck destiny,’ said Ambit. He walked off, but even though he was younger and faster his grandfather clung to his side like a parasite. Ambit started to thrust the spear at him, trying to make him go away, but it passed straight through him. His grandfather stared at him and then vanished suddenly, and Ambit found himself facing someone else he knew. Snarl. She was a little demon imp again, the way she’d been when he first met her. She squatted on a pile of blackened human skulls, smoke drifting between her fangs.

  ‘You little shit,’ Ambit said, and tried to stab her with the spear. But the weapon crumbled to ashes in his hands, and Snarl stayed where she was, calmly watching him.

  ‘You know none of it’s true,’ she said, and breathed a column of fire that hit his right hand and burned it away to a charred stump.

  Sixteen

  Snarl sat by the lava pool inside the First Mountain, bathed in the miraculous healing heat of her king’s presence. Thanks to that, and regular baths in the pool, her tail had grown back completely, thicker and more powerful than before. Her claws felt longer and sharper, as did her horns. She could have sworn that her whole body had grown a little larger, her internal fires hotter.

  But none of it made her happy. She squatted on a half-molten rock, red eyes staring fixedly at the column where Volcan’s face sometimes appeared. There were precious stones everywhere in this mountain; diamonds, rubies, sapphires . . . delicacies of all kinds. But Snarl couldn’t bring herself to eat any of it, or enjoy any of the luxuries that had become available to her.

  ‘Snarl.’ The demon king’s massive voice intruded on her reverie. ‘Listen to me.’

  Snarl raised her head. ‘Yes, my king?’

  ‘My ambassador Diamons is back from her mission,’ he told her. ‘The humans rejected my offer.’

  ‘What a shock,’ Snarl muttered.

  ‘I expected them to,’ he said. ‘They never want to talk to us.’

  ‘I only ever met one human who wanted to talk to me,’ said Snarl.

  ‘Yes,’ said Volcan, ‘and now you must go and find him. We need his help again.’

  Snarl sat bolt upright. ‘What? I mean . . . you want me to go after Ambit?’

  ‘Yes. He will listen to you, and other humans will listen to him.’

  ‘Other humans don’t listen to him,’ said Snarl. ‘He got himself thrown out of half the places we ever visited together.’

  ‘He led the eight companions here,’ said Volcan. ‘He can lead others when he chooses to. He and you must be our ambassadors to the human king. Your example of friendship may inspire them.’

  Snarl couldn’t help it; she laughed. ‘Ambit and I don’t inspire anyone. He might have led the companions here, but none of them thought of us as friends. The best they could manage was believing I was his servant. Anyway, we’re not friends anymore. You saw what happened. He knows what I did. He won’t forgive me for that.’

  ‘He must,’ said Volcan. ‘If he does not . . .’

  Snarl hesitated. ‘You don’t think he would . . .’

  ‘The Oracle warned you,’ said Volcan. ‘He told you that if the Chosen One knew what you had done, he could change his mind. It may be enough to make him hate demonkind and take the path of revenge.’

  Snarl sat back, stunned. ‘No,’ she said eventually. ‘No, he wouldn’t do that. He hates the prophecy, and he hates being the Chosen One. He doesn’t even like heroes. That’s why he was happy to stab the companions in the back.’

  ‘But would you be prepared to take that risk?’ Volcan asked her.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then you must go to him, and make your peace,’ said Volcan.

  ‘I don’t even know where he is,’ said Snarl.

  ‘Diamons saw him,’ said the demon king. ‘He is in Lucknow City.’

  ‘I can’t go in there!’ said Snarl.

  ‘For our sake, you must,’ said Volcan. ‘I command you to go.’

  Snarl bowed her head. ‘I will, but the humans will try to kill me.’

  ‘That is a risk you must take. Go, Snarl, and may the strength of this mountain go with you.’

  ‘All right.’ Snarl climbed down off the rock, and waddled slowly toward the cave entrance. Somewhere below her, the companions would be fuming in their cell, and the princess would be mooning over the hero she thought would come and rescue her. Snarl wanted to go down there and eat their bones, and put an end to this nonsense once and for all. But she had promised Ambit she would never do that. He might not want to fight demons for the sake of his kind, but he didn’t want her to hurt anyone.

  ‘I kept that promise,’ Snarl mumbled to herself. ‘I kept all my promises to you. Always have. Damn it, why did this have to happen?’

  She turned in the direction of the human city and began her slow and reluctant journey toward it, with the First Mountain receding at her back. She didn’t want to do this for a whole string of reasons, but she couldn’t disobey her king. She stopped briefly to look at the mountain where the king sat waiting with infinite patience . . . and then the ground started to shake.

  When Ambit woke up, his hand hurt so badly he couldn’t go back to sleep. It felt as if his whole arm was on fire. Swearing, he fumbled for the painkillers and took the lot in one go. The pain went away very quickly, but unconsciousness followed, and he passed out on the bed. When he woke up several hours later the light from the window had darkened, and he had a splitting headache. His hand was hurting again, and so was his arm and shoulder. He realised he’d been lying at a funny angle when he fell asleep.

  He sat up and clutched at his forehead with his good hand. His mouth was dry and sticky, and his eyes ached. He felt as if he’d been severely beaten while extremely drunk. Not an unfamiliar way to wake up, then.

  Ambit reached for the painkillers, but the bottle the doctor had given him was well and truly empty. He took a long drink of water instead, and lay on his back to wait for his head to put itself back together. But though some of the pain faded, eventually, and his mind started to clear, he still felt lousy.

  He got up and peered out the window. It was definitely night-time, and therefore a socially acceptable time for drinking. If he was out of painkillers, beer would have to do the trick.

  Ambit picked up his spear and money, and left to find a pub without bothering to neaten himself first. He avoided the one he’d gone to on the first night and found a different one called the Rainbow Flower, which wasn’t too far from the city gate. It was a large place, with two storeys and striped, multicoloured shade-cloths over the door and windows. Flowers grew in pots at the front door: the rare Lucknow flower which gave the city its name, daisy-shaped with each petal a different colour. A picture of one had been painted on the sign over the door.

  It was a hot night, but luckily the Rainbow Flower had tables set up outside. Ambit went inside and bought himself a round of drinks, and sat himself on a table by the front wall to drink them. Lucknow beer was sweet and strong, livened up with various spices. Ambit polished off three mugs in quick succession, but didn’t particularly enjoy the effect. It left him feeling surly, rather than merry, but he kept going anyway, because what else was there to do? He couldn’t even be bothered to find a girl to seduce.

  Sometime during the haze that had started to take his mind off the pain in his hand, someone came and sat at his table.

  ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Mind if I join you?’

  Ambit peered at her. It was that woman he’d seen at Blueberry Hill – the one with the odd, single-coloured hair. ‘Oh, it’s you again,’ he said, not bothering to stop and wonder how she’d got here. ‘Anno, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Ana,’ she corrected, ‘and you’re Ambit, right?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s me,’ said Ambit, picking up his fifth beer of the evening. ‘What d’you want?’

  Ana put her boots up on the table. ‘What happened to your friends?’ she asked, helping herself to one o
f his beers.

  ‘I ditched them,’ said Ambit. ‘They weren’t my friends.’

  ‘They looked like a tedious bunch,’ said Ana. ‘What about that demon? Did you ditch her as well?’

  Ambit glared at her. ‘Not that it’s your business, but yes. How d’you know about her, anyway?’

  ‘I saw you talking to her,’ said Ana. She was dressed differently this time, Ambit noticed. Last time he’d seen her, she’d been wearing an unusual outfit of a shirt and trousers made of a cloth he’d never seen before. Now, though, she was wearing a multicoloured outfit like the ones most people in Lucknow wore. The pet bird had disappeared.

  ‘Yeah,’ Ambit said at last, ‘it turned out she wasn’t my friend, either.’

  ‘So now it’s just you,’ said Ana.

  Ambit finally pulled himself together enough to grin at her. ‘I wouldn’t mind if it was us for a bit,’ he said.

  Ana grinned back. ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Ambit. ‘What happened to your bird?’

  ‘Oh, he’s off prowling,’ said Ana. ‘I told him I’d meet up with him again tomorrow.’

  ‘You from Birdsong?’ said Ambit. ‘I heard they keep birds there.’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ said Ana. She drank reflectively. ‘You know, once I had a group of friends, a bit like you did. I fed them a pack of lies and led them around the countryside, and they were happy to follow me anywhere until they found out I was full of crap. I’d got what I wanted from ’em, and then I went off by myself. But then I realised it just wasn’t any fun doing things alone. Guess I’d got used to the company.’

  Ambit shrugged. ‘Too bad for you.’

  ‘Not so bad,’ said Ana. ‘I realised I cared about them, so I went and got them back. For a while, anyway.’

  ‘What happened then?’ said Ambit.

  ‘I lost most of them,’ said Ana. ‘All except one of them. The one I was closest to.’

  Ambit tossed his empty mug aside and picked up another one. ‘What’s the point of this story?’ he said. ‘Never give up on friends? What are you, my fairy godmother?’

  ‘Hell, no,’ said Ana. ‘I’m not trying to teach you anything. I’m just telling you what I did. Anyway, I guess if there is a point it’s that if you’re not happy by yourself, don’t screw around pretending – go find someone. And if you miss someone, go get them back.’