by Mark Robson
The change was subtle – a shimmer of translucence crept over the heart like a sheet of clear water, emanating from the plinth. The heart began to change shape as the clear substance started to contract, drawing the heart first into a sphere and then shrinking it, crushing the flesh into an impossible ball of dark matter that no longer looked as if it had ever been a part of any living creature. A pulse of energy momentarily flashed outwards from the dark orb that had once been Knifetail’s heart and then it was still; inert and lifeless, but giving off an aura that sent a chill down the spines of every human in the valley.
‘Behold the dark orb, released from Knifetail, dragon of the night,’ Karrok announced. ‘Who claims it?’
‘I do,’ said Segun, his voice cold.
‘Very well. Come forward, human.’
Pell was not sure whether to rejoice, or cry out in objection. If he and Shadow had won the final challenge, the heart that now formed the dark orb would have been that of his dragon. He could not help but feel happy that they had failed, though he knew the Oracle would now die because of their failure. Shadow was all he had. If she had been sacrificed in Knifetail’s place, he would not have needed Segun to plunge a knife in his chest -he would have done it himself. Yet to see Segun walking forwards to claim the orb was almost more than he could bear.
Another flurry of wings drew his gaze upwards. A griffin descended, clearly tired. It cried out in its own language, a harsh and mournful cry that contained meaning, though what it said Pell could not interpret. Karrok stiffened.
‘Hold!’ he cried, his dark eyes stopping Segun in his tracks. ‘My brother tells me that your people interfered with the final challenge. They diverted Shadow and Pell into The Knife. What do you have to say to this?’
‘That’s clearly nonsense,’ Segun said quickly. ‘No dragon who entered The Knife could ever hope to escape with its life. Yet we all saw Shadow and Knifetail land almost alongside one another. It was a close contest. Dirk and Knifetail won. I claim the orb.’
‘That is not the picture my brother paints,’ Karrok said, his voice ominously threatening. ‘Griffins do not lie, human, yet your kind are renowned for twisting your words.
‘Pell, can you tell me what happened?’
Pell did so, describing the marker and how Shadow had flown the remarkable manoeuvre to turn them around in the death trap they had been led into. Karrok nodded.
‘Your words smell of truth,’ he said. ‘Justice shall prevail here. Pell, take the orb.’
Segun took a step forwards and opened his mouth to protest, but the griffin’s head snapped around to face him. One look at Karrok’s eyes was enough to make Segun think twice. He closed his mouth and took a step backwards.
‘We will hold the night dragons here,’ Karrok told Pell. ‘Take the orb and go. You are already aware that other night dragons lurk somewhere nearby. We cannot help you against those. You must find a way past them.’
‘Thank you, Karrok,’ Pell replied, bowing.
He stepped forwards and reached out for the orb, but a cold aura emanating from the ball stopped him from picking it up with his bare hands. Taking a moment to put on his gloves, he picked up the orb. Holding it as far from his body as he could, he walked swiftly across to Shadow and stuffed it deep into his saddlebag.
‘You must go, and quickly,’ the griffin said abruptly. ‘We will keep your adversaries here until sunset, but beyond this we will not interfere. You do not have long. Do not waste the time we give you.’
Pell bowed again. ‘Our thanks, Karrok, speaker for the griffins,’ he said formally. ‘The Oracle’s message told us to seek your counsel. Is there anything else that we need to know?’
‘It seems you have found some wisdom during your quest, human,’ Karrok replied, inclining his head slightly to acknowledge Pell’s bow. ‘Seek the place where the shadows dwell. The answer to your questions awaits you there.’
Karrok’s answer made no sense, but Pell realised he would get no more. He glanced up at the sky. The horsetails of cirrus he had noticed earlier were fast giving way to a sheet of high cloud. The bad weather was coming. So was dusk. They did not have long.
‘Nolita?’ he called. ‘Can Firestorm heal Shadow’s shoulder?’
‘No,’ she replied, her voice trembling. ‘He says he can’t, but he can use his fire to seal the wound.’
‘Do you want him to do it?’ Pell asked Shadow silently.
‘If he can stop me from losing any more blood, it will help me hold on to what strength I have left,’ she replied.
They had little choice. ‘Do it,’ Pell called back.
He looked one last time at Segun. The man’s eyes were glaring at him with an icy fury that almost crackled.
‘It isn’t over, Pell,’ Segun warned, his voice as chilling as his stare. ‘You’ve got a long way to go and I’m going to be there every step of the way. You made the wrong choice and you will pay for it.’
Pell did not answer. He turned back to where Firestorm was positioning himself next to Shadow. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself for more pain.