Hesitantly, Joss caught the dangling key and held it in the palm of his hand. It was so warm it could be mistaken for a living thing.
‘You know, you and I are a lot alike …’ Zeke went on, while Joss looped the chain over his head and then hid the key beneath his shirt, his skin flushing at its touch.
‘We are?’ he asked.
‘We both have a lot to prove. To our orders, to the Grandmaster Council, to the whole cussing world,’ Zeke explained. ‘And the only way we’re going to do that is if we watch out for each other. Deal?’ He held out his hand. Joss didn’t think twice as he took Zeke’s wrist in a firm shake of agreement.
‘Deal.’ he smiled.
That evening, Bittersweet provided them with lentils and herb bread, which they ate together beside her fireplace. Drake was feeling well enough now to sit with them, his wounds almost entirely healed thanks to Bittersweet’s balms.
‘We really can’t thank you enough. You’ve been so accommodating. I don’t know how we could ever repay you,’ Drake said between mouthfuls of food, having regained his appetite.
‘There’s no need for remuneration,’ Bittersweet said. ‘Offering help where it’s needed is simply my people’s way.’
‘But where are your people?’ Joss asked. Both Drake and Hero glared at him as if he’d said something wrong, and in a way he supposed he had. After all, wasn’t he asking the same question that was always posed to him about Daheed? The last thing he wanted to do was upset Bittersweet. ‘I mean … how is it that you came to be here? By yourself, that is?’
Bittersweet didn’t look at any of them. Nor did she stare at the fire. Instead, she gazed up at the cinders as they danced on the curls of smoke, her voice so soft it was almost lost in the sputtering crackle of the flames.
‘Centuries ago, this was spriggan land.’ Still staring at the embers, she reached out and took a pinch of blue powder from a nearby bowl, which she then threw onto the fire. The flames surged, throwing black shadows on the wall that formed into thin figures. They danced among towering trees, while creatures of darkness roamed beyond them.
Watching the shadow people move across the walls, Bittersweet continued. ‘Dozens of tribes lived here, and together we tended the flora and fauna. When the mortals came, we showed them our ways, including how to tame the thunder lizards with song. And with those skills they made the land theirs. My people were pushed further and further to the edges, deeper into the forests and on into the shadows.’
Bittersweet threw another pinch of powder onto the flames, and the thin, dancing shadow people were met by stocky figures that carried spears and swords. At first they danced together, but soon the stocky figures outnumbered the shadow people, and the shadow people were driven across the walls.
‘Knowing that a great change was imminent, the fae races gathered in communion,’ Bittersweet went on. ‘The spriggans of the earth, the sylphs of the air, the selkies of the water – they all came together so that the elders of all the many tribes could pray as one to Mother Mab for guidance. “What should we do?” they asked of her. “Should we beseech the mortals to stop? Or should we declare war?”’
The shadow people circled around one central figure, a womanly shape as tall as the silhouetted trees that surrounded them.
‘But Mother Mab showed the elders another path. She opened the gateway between the worlds, to a place that was as wild and green as this land had once been. And so the fae people followed their mother’s path, and walked willingly into this new world.’
The womanly figure glided up along the wall, and as she did the shadow people followed her. Higher and higher they went, until they reached the hole in the roof through which the smoke was escaping, and one by one they disappeared into the night. Bittersweet watched with Joss and the others as each of the shadowy figures danced and flitted away.
‘Only a small few of us remained, some to guard the path to the new world and make sure it stayed safe, some because they were too afraid to leave the only home they’d ever known.’ The last of the shadow people gone, Bittersweet returned her gaze to the fire. ‘I am descended from those who were too afraid …’
While the others stared with Bittersweet at the flames, Joss looked over at Drake. In the firelight he could see more starkly just how fine the prentice’s features were. Joss wondered why the truth felt so obvious now, whereas before he never would have imagined it. Could the others see what he hadn’t? Would they feel as confused as he did? Or would they think less of him for having been so naive?
Noticing his attention, Drake looked up at him and smiled softly. It was the same friendly smile with which he’d introduced himself back at Tower Town, but now smaller and more fragile. Joss tried to smile back but felt that what came out was more of a grimace.
Bittersweet stirred. Her eyes were mirrors that reflected the fire as she looked at each of the Bladebound in turn.
‘Everyone has a shadow. A darkness that is bound to them. Sometimes this darkness is inherited. Other times, it is born to us. My shadow is my family’s legacy. I’m sure you all feel you have shadows of your own …’
She looked at Drake, who met her gaze. She looked at Joss. He shifted in his place, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
‘We should not give these shadows weight. They are not monsters on our backs. At best, they are moths fretting at the edges of our minds. Nothing more.’
Still avoiding her scrutiny, Joss caught sight of Zeke. He looked as perplexed by Bittersweet’s words as Joss was, though clearly undaunted in expressing it.
‘And here I was thinking that shadows are overweight monsters,’ he said with a smirk. ‘It’s lucky you’re here to tell us these things.’
Bittersweet turned her attention to Zeke. She didn’t blink at all, staring at him intensely. ‘You would do well to heed my words, Ezekiel Zadkille. After all, it is your shadow that is darkest of all.’
‘How do you – I never told you my family name …’ Zeke said, shrinking against the wall. He stared at Bittersweet in astonishment as she rose to her feet, leaving the fireside.
‘Time to say goodnight, I think,’ she said, and clicked her fingers. The fire and all the surrounding candles burnt away to nothing in the span of a single breath, casting the hut into darkness and leaving the prentices to fumble their way outside to their waiting bedrolls.
CHAPTER TWENTY
A RIDER IN BLOOD-RED ARMOUR
DRAKE winced as he stretched up to fasten his pack onto Pietro’s saddle, the tundra bear snuffing at him with concern. Joss glanced at him struggling and wondered if he should help. They’d still not really spoken since their conversation by the stream the other evening, and Joss was unsure if Drake preferred to keep it that way. But as he continued to exert himself under the weight of his belongings, Joss knew he had to lend a hand.
‘Here,’ Joss said, taking a hold of the pack.
‘I can handle it,’ Drake snapped as he yanked the bag from Joss’s grasp.
‘Are you sure?’ Joss asked, taken aback. It seemed so unlike Drake to act in such a way. Joss was swiftly learning, however, that his ability to read people bordered on the illiterate.
Drake sighed, his arms sagged in defeat. ‘I
’m sorry, it’s these damn stitches. I didn’t mean to grizzle.’
‘No need to apologise,’ Joss said, reaching out for the pack again. Drake offered no resistance as Joss slung it into place before tightening the straps around it. ‘Everyone has a shadow, right?’
‘So I’ve heard,’ Drake replied, and busied himself with checking that all the clasps on Pietro’s harness were secure.
As he turned away, Joss realised how little he really knew about this stranger from the Northern Tundra, or any of his riding companions for that matter. It filled him with an aching sense of unease that only worsened as images of a stone mask and a black hood flashed in his mind.
‘Stay to the path and don’t stop until you’re clear of the forest,’ Bittersweet warned them from the threshold of her hut, eyeing the surrounding cacti for any lurking threats. She looked acutely alert despite the early hour, as if sleep were a distraction that she could easily live without. ‘And reapply the balm whenever you lose its scent.’
‘I think we’ll be OK,’ Zeke said as he shot a wink at Joss, having clearly shrugged off last night’s unnerving encounter. Clambering onto his jet-cycle, he gave it a quick kickstart. The machine roared into the air, scattering the dead leaves piled beneath it. Callie tensed with the urge to strike as the foliage skipped past her, but Hero kept a firm hold on the sabretooth and the great cat remained in place.
‘Remember, all of you, the Eastern Wilds are ancient lands,’ Bittersweet said. ‘The further you travel, the more you will encounter creatures and beings beyond your mortal ken. Be mindful of that and you’re more likely to survive.’
They each thanked Bittersweet for her help, with Drake proving to be the most effusive of all.
‘I owe you my life,’ he told her with unwavering conviction.
‘Then make it a good one,’ she replied. ‘And may Mother Mab keep and guide you.’
She offered them a gesture of the hands that resembled a prayer, the full significance of which was lost on Joss. He could only bow his head respectfully before riding out of the thicket and onto the narrow break in the forest that passed for a trail.
The path curved and turned and dipped, but with every step the sky grew brighter. The forest cleared around them until all that was left were a few thistles on either side of the track. Azof growled with relief, his tail swishing merrily as he and Joss both turned their faces to the breeze. Hero even removed her goggles long enough to appreciate the touch of sunlight on her skin, though she kept her eyes closed the entire time.
With the Barbed Forest now finally and thankfully behind them, they took the opportunity to stop for lunch beside a sparkling brook. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the surrounding trees, dappling them all with starry patterns.
‘Have any of you ever been to the Eastern Wilds before?’ Drake asked between crunching mouthfuls of apple.
‘Can’t say I have,’ Joss replied as he swallowed a mouthful of the cactus juice that Bittersweet had provided them.
‘My parents fly to Lucium for the opening night of every play that’s performed at the Lordly Theatre. I’ll attend with them on the odd occasion,’ Zeke said, lying on the grass with his boots off and his feet in the water.
‘I flew over the coastline during a skyborne training session once,’ added Hero. ‘The landscape is different from that in the west. Darker, somehow. They’re right to call it wild.’
‘That’s a comforting notion,’ Drake said.
‘Comfort is for city folk and children. It’s not a word for paladeros to use.’ Brushing the grass from her jacket, Hero returned to her mount. ‘Come on. Time’s wasting. Those Questing Eggs aren’t going to collect themselves.’
Exchanging a wry glance, Joss and Drake followed her while Zeke quickly dried off his feet. ‘And I was just getting settled,’ he grumbled, pulling on his boots.
As they left the stream behind, the land grew increasingly rocky. The road turned to gravel, the bushes to boulders. Even the sky seemed to turn to stone, with thick clouds sweeping in to block out the sun.
Now clear of any forest coverage, Joss could see the Backbone Ranges for the first time. They rose before him like a great grey wave, curling up over the horizon to crash down on his head. He couldn’t imagine trying to climb them, and felt a surge of relief that they were bound instead for the undercity of Dragon’s Tail, which would provide a much more direct path.
They were just coming to an old wooden bridge that bisected a rushing river when Zeke announced from the head of the pack, ‘We may have trouble,’ and pointed to two men standing in the middle of the road.
They were both as still as pillars, blocking the entrance to the bridge. The younger of the two had hair spikier than the cacti of the Barbed Forest, his arms entangled by copper cables. The older and taller of them wore a rich silk coat with a quiver full of arrows on his back and an ornately carved bow in his fist.
‘Remember Bittersweet’s words,’ Drake said from beside Joss. ‘Be on your guard.’
The men didn’t move an inch as Joss and the others rode towards them. Not even when a massive iron mechanoid erupted from a small cave behind the Bladebound. It rumbled into the centre of the road on spiked tracks, levelling twin cannons at the prentices and cutting off any chance of escape.
‘OK – now we’re definitely in trouble …’ said Joss, looking from the mek behind them to the two armed men in front, his stomach doing somersaults.
‘Trouble ain’t how I’d describe it,’ a voice rang out from further up the road. Joss looked to see a figure mounted on a raptor that was twice Azof ’s size, with black feathers as sharp as blades and a feral glint in its jaundiced eyes.
The rider was dressed in a patchwork leather coat worn over a suit of armour that had corroded to a blood-red sheen, while his helmet had been forged from the skull of a thunder lizard. Azof hissed as the rider ambled across the bridge towards them, his two cohorts parting before him like the heralds of a king. He didn’t have to say anything for Joss to know exactly who he was, but still he announced himself in a voice that sounded like a rusted blade being dragged across bone.
‘If ’n you haven’t guessed already, they call me the Grim Rider. The fella with the bow is Parsefal, the kid with the mean glint in his eye is Kade, and that battle mek on your tails there is Warhead. But you can just call ’em my Skeleton Crew,’ he said, still riding towards them. ‘Now I’m gunna say this simple, so there’s no chance of misunderstanding. Give us the Constellation Key and maybe – just maybe – you’ll all get out of this alive …’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A FURIOUS BLAZE
'CONSTELLATION Key?’ Joss said with a laugh. He wondered if it sounded as forced as it felt. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just four fieldservs on our way to barter for goods at Dragon’s Tail …’
‘Don’t insult me,’ the Grim Rider snapped, so close now that Joss could smell his encrusted sweat, which mingled with the acrid fumes from the iron mek behind them. ‘I know four Bladebound prentices when I see ’em. And I certainly know the Blade Keeper’s face when it’s been splashed all over the illumisphere. So. Don’t make me get nasty about it. Just give me the key.’
‘Sarif! Do
wn!’ Hero shouted from the rear. Joss ducked just in time as two zamaraqs went whirring past him, aimed for the Grim Rider. Faster than they could reach him, the Rider drew the twin blades strapped to his back. The swords rang out as the zamaraqs struck them both and bounced off.
‘Parsefal, Kade! Show ’em who’s in charge!’ the Rider yelled and his two lackeys leapt to obey, the iron battle mek still looming behind the Bladebound to block their escape. Parsefal, the archer, loosed a volley of arrows as Kade, the youth with the cables wrapped around his arms, generated a ball of lightning between his palms. Drake moved as fast as he could to dodge Parsefal’s arrows as Hero launched her zamaraqs in a counterattack.
‘Joss, you take the porcupine! I’ll see to the boneheaded cuss!’ Zeke called out as he charged for the Grim Rider, the battle mek tracking his progress with weapons primed. It made no move to attack, however; not without an order from its master. Pushing through his concern for Zeke’s safety, Joss spurred Azof on towards Kade.
He hadn’t even come within striking distance before the spiky-haired bandit launched a fork of electricity at him. Joss ducked, and the bolt rushed just past his ear to explode into a nearby tree. The trunk burst into splinters, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. Kade didn’t blink, though. He just started charging up another blast, baring his teeth at Joss.
‘Come on, ya stormy mongrel,’ Kade jeered over the crackling of electricity. ‘Too scared to face me without your monster’s help?’
Joss narrowed his eyes, let go of Azof ’s reins. Dropping from his saddle, he drew the Champion’s Blade in one hand and his humming knife in the other. ‘I’ll show you who’s scared.’
Kade just grinned with all his gnarled teeth and fired off another blast of lightning. This time it was too quick for Joss to avoid. Instinctively he raised his sword, even though he knew it was a futile effort. Closing his eyes, he braced for the impact.
The Riders of Thunder Realm Page 13