02 Unicorn Rider (24 page)

‘There is the village of Blood Stone,’ Spectre said, as they emerged from the tunnel onto the side of the lower slopes of Blood Mountain. A short way beneath them was sprawled the broken–down remains of what had once been quite a prosperous village. Teeter–totter ruins clustered together, crowding around the only building that had not been destroyed by the passage of time: a large mansion with black windows and choking veins of poisonous ivy crawling over its ancient stonework.

There were no roads in or out of the village; any trade routes that may have once come this way had long ago changed direction. Blood Stone was not a place that saw many visitors.

‘It’s so sad,’ Nimbus said, as they made their way down into the village.

‘The vampyr has much to be ashamed of,’ Spectre agreed.

Nimbus stopped at the first house they reached and pushed open the rotten door. The room inside was covered in a thick layer of dust that had been undisturbed for many hundreds of years. The skeletal outlines of some of the things the dust concealed made Nimbus shiver. ‘It is far worse than I could ever have imagined it would be.’

‘The best intentions can lead to the most devastating of consequences,’ Spectre said.

‘What do you mean?’ Nimbus asked, as they weaved between the tumbled mess of stones and broken slates that had once been homes.

‘The vampyr was not an evil man. He was just a man who loved a woman. In many ways he was much like Crow. They both attempted to cheat death. But while Crow was a living person attempting to cling on to something that had crossed over into the world of the dead, the vampyr was a dead person attempting to cling on to something that had remained in the world of the living.’

‘How could he be so selfish?’ Nimbus asked.

‘The story goes that a caravan of traders came to this village. They got drunk at the tavern, and went looking for trouble. They found the vampyr. Of course, at that time he was just a man. He was out for a moonlit stroll with his beautiful girlfriend, a girl who one of the traders immediately fell in love with. So taken was this trader with the girl’s beauty, that he attacked the vampyr, and in the drunken brawl that followed, the vampyr was stabbed. The wound was deadly, but rather than trying to save the vampyr’s life, the traders fled, taking the girl as a hostage.’

‘Did they escape?’

‘No. They underestimated the will of the vampyr. He was determined to stay in this world and rescue the girl from those traders. He dug in deep, deeper than any human has a right to, so deep that when he died and his spirit passed over into the world of the dead, he dragged in the traders and their captive, and everybody else with him. He lost everything, even though it is all around him even now.’

‘He must be terribly sad and lonely.’

‘He is sad, and he is lonely. Yes. But do not expect him to be good or kind. Not any more.’

They reached the gigantic, metal–studded doors of the mansion. Nimbus stopped there for a moment, looking up at the ugly, leering gargoyles that were perched around the gutters. ‘Is he in here?’ he asked, suddenly afraid.

Captain Spectre nodded solemnly.

‘Does he know we’re here?’

‘There is nothing that happens here which the vampyr is unaware of. He will have watched us all the way.’

Nimbus drew a slow, shuddering breath. ‘Let’s go and say hello then.’

The doors swung open with a creek. The entrance hall beyond was vast beyond anything Nimbus had seen before; greater even than Lord Citrine’s throne room. But unlike Lord Citrine’s throne room, this room was dark and cold, layered in countless years of grey dust. It smelled like a tomb; damp and rotten and earthy.

‘Are you sure I have to do this?’ Nimbus asked, carefully examining every gloomy corner and alcove for signs of some monstrous thing that would suddenly attack.

‘The vampyr is the master here. If he has the unicorn, then you will not be able to take it without his permission.’

‘But...’

‘Quiet. Just wait a minute.’

‘Wait for what? Let’s just find this guy and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.’

‘Be patient. We can’t go in yet.’

Several of the darkest patches of shadow at the far end of the room began to swirl and dance together in a hypnotic pattern, first floating like smoke, then flapping like bat wings. Nimbus was sure there was something moving within the heart of those shadows, but the harder he looked, the more confusing the shadows became.

‘Don’t look at it,’ Spectre said. ‘The vampyr isn’t above using a few simple mind games to help him make negotiations.’

Nimbus blinked, and with some effort, turned his gaze aside, focussing his attention at a vacant spot a few feet ahead. ‘Is that him?’ he whispered.

‘It is the shadow that travels before him, the very essence of the night in all its many forms.’

Baleful eyes glared from the twisting patterns of darkness, and then the shroud dispersed, leaving in its place a tall and handsome man in a purple cloak that occasionally twinkled as if it was woven from the fabric of the night sky. ‘Welcome, Lord Nimbus,’ the man said. ‘And you also, the late Captain Spectre. I am sure there is no need to introduce myself. It is very rare I get a visit from someone who doesn’t know who I am.’

‘How do you know us?’ Nimbus asked.

The vampyr smiled a toothy but not altogether unpleasant smile. ‘We have much to discuss.’

‘Perhaps you should invite us in,’ Captain Spectre said.

‘Of course, how rude of me.’ The vampyr turned to Nimbus, and his piercing almond–shaped eyes narrowed. ‘You are both most welcome here. Do come in.’

Nimbus looked at Spectre questioningly. ‘It’s okay,’ the captain said. ‘There is a legend that the vampyr can only enter the home of one who has invited him in. It’s actually the other way around. We have been invited now, we are quite safe.’

Nimbus glanced back at the waiting vampyr, a monstrous being with a will so strong that he could resist anyone from entering his home if they were not invited, and who had clung so hard to life that living matter itself had been pulled with him into the realms of the dead.

Whatever negotiations were about to be undertaken, Nimbus had the distinct impression they would not be on his terms.

‘Come in,’ the vampyr said.

***

Private Silver paced up and down the garrison thoughtfully.

Everything had gone so terribly wrong.

He had thought help would come. He had thought that if they sat it out for long enough, somebody would rescue them. He had thought that Crystal Shine would be alerted to the danger and send a hundred men – a thousand men even – to liberate the village from the grip of these foul wyverns and their inhuman soldier companions. He had thought the siege of the village would not last much longer.

He had thought wrong.

No help was coming.

If he didn’t do something now, his wounded men were going to die.

He couldn’t afford to wait any more.

It was time for action.

He moved to the broken doorway and peered into the darkness. It would be all too easy to think there was nothing out there, that it was safe; but even as he watched, one of the armoured soldiers moved into view, approaching mechanically with a strange, lop–sided gait.

Private Silver drew his sword, and stood just back from the doorway, forming a barrier between the advancing soldier and his own wounded men. ‘What do you want?’ he shouted.

‘The master grows impatient,’ the soldier said, in a voice that squelched like wet leather. ‘Where is the girl?’

‘There is no girl here,’ Silver said. A clatter from above informed him that one of the wyverns had returned to its perch on the garrison roof. ‘Call off that monster.’

‘Where is the girl?’ the soldier repeated.

‘Get ready, men,’ Silver whispered. ‘I think these things have got tired of waiting.’

The brave men of the Landmark garrison gathered around Silver with their swords drawn.

Two more soldiers appeared from the darkness, and all three advanced. Then there was a faint, almost inaudible whistle, a soft thud, a screech of pain, and then a much louder thud as the wyvern that had been sitting on the roof crashed to the ground. The men watched as the creature flapped its wings and squealed and wriggled around in the dirt. The shaft of an arrow was protruding from its throat.

In quick succession two more arrows slashed through the dark, sticking into the wyvern’s chest; and with one final, pitiful wail the creature died. Its tongue lolled out of its open mouth, as its eyes glazed over.

The soldiers silently withdrew into the folds of the night.

‘What just happened?’ one of the garrison asked.

‘Look!’ another said, pointing at four small figures walking up the street with bows slung over their backs.

‘The people are fighting back,’ Silver said.

‘But who?’

The approaching archers were now close enough for Silver to see they were only children: Three girls and one boy. None of them could have been any older then seventeen. ‘Hawk’s archery lessons,’ he said, excitedly. ‘Most of the children in this village took them.’

‘Hello, Private Silver. I’m sorry we couldn’t get here any sooner,’ one of the girls said.

‘We’re glad to see you,’ Silver grinned, saluting smartly. ‘How many of you are there?’

‘Maybe as many as fifteen. We’ve split into groups to take those things by surprise.’

‘A solid plan.’

‘We saw what happened to the captain,’ the girl went on. ‘He’s at Nimbus’s house. We think he’s still alive, but one of those soldiers is in there with him.’

‘Right,’ Silver said, trying to sound more in control then he felt. ‘Two of these men are going to stay with you for protection. The rest are going to come with me.’

‘I’m coming with you too,’ the girl said.

Silver examined her carefully. There was a look in her eye that suggested there was no point arguing. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

‘I am Autumn,’ the girl said proudly.

‘Okay, Autumn, you come with us, but only if you’re sure. This isn’t going to be pleasant.’

‘What are we going to do?’ one of the soldier’s asked.

Silver stared out into the dark, straining to see where their enemies were hiding. ‘We’re going to take back our village,’ he said, grimly.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Up close, the vampyr was even more terrifying than Nimbus could possibly have imagined he would be. He was pale–skinned and handsome, but handsome in the way that a corpse can look handsome lying in its coffin; and his eyes were both beautiful and terrible, being the same deep purple as the mysterious night. But worst of all was his voice, which sounded so welcoming and friendly, and yet so cunning and malevolent at the same time.

Sitting in the vampyr’s dusty dining room, watching as the vampyr lit candles that barely gave enough light to see by, Nimbus was suddenly very aware of just how dangerous his mission had become.

‘So how are you enjoying life second time around?’ the vampyr asked, taking a seat at the end of the table.

Nimbus swallowed hard, and took a moment to find the courage he needed to respond. ‘You will excuse my rudeness, but I really didn’t come here to make small talk.’

‘No, of course not,’ the vampyr said. ‘You came here for the unicorn. And if you ever want to see that unicorn, then I’m afraid you will have to indulge me, and take a few moments out of your hectic schedule for small talk.’

‘So, you admit you have the unicorn?’

‘Careful,’ Captain Spectre whispered. ‘The vampyr is cunning. Choose your words carefully, and do not let him lure you into saying anything stupid.’

In the light of the flickering candles, the vampyr’s face looked cold and emotionless. ‘You know I have the unicorn. You wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t.’

‘Is it alive?’ Nimbus asked.

‘No more alive than it was before. Unicorns are funny creatures, they are neither fully in nor fully out. Like poltergeists. She is quite comfortable here in the realm of the dead.’

‘She doesn’t belong here.’

The vampyr leaned forwards, and his robes made a whispering noise on the table. ‘I don’t belong here either, and neither do you, and neither does your friend the captain. But here we all are anyway.’ He spread his hands before him. ‘All of us neither quite one thing nor the other. The ghost, the vampyr, the unicorn, and the zombie.’

‘Don’t call me that,’ Nimbus warned.

‘Don’t be so sensitive. There’s no shame in being a zombie.’

Nimbus clenched his fists. When he spoke again it was through gritted teeth. ‘How do you know so much about me? How did you know we were coming here?’

‘It pays to know your enemy.’

‘Are we enemies then?’

‘We aren’t friends.’

‘So why haven’t you killed me already?’

‘Because you and I have something in common. You want Crow dead. That’s why you came here.’

‘I’m just here for the unicorn.’

The vampyr walked to the window overlooking the decaying grounds of the mansion. Sad spirits weaved through the mist below. ‘There is a game humans play,’ he said. ‘I believe they call it Land Lock. The aim of the game, as far as I can tell, is to trick your opponent into leaving himself open for an attack. It takes great skill, and much planning, to be able to perform your moves in such a way that your opponent does not realise he is being led into a trap. One wrong move, and the tables turn.’

‘What does any of this have to do with me?’ Nimbus asked.

‘I brought the unicorn here because I wanted to meet you.’

Nimbus smiled knowingly. ‘The unicorn is here because it was captured by Crow. Don’t lie to me. You’re just another one of his minions, like that soldier I met outside, or the hydra.’

The vampyr sighed heavily. ‘You really cannot see what’s going on, can you?’

‘Then tell me, help me understand.’

The vampyr turned, and for a moment the light from a candle caught in his eye, reflecting on what Nimbus almost believed could have been a teardrop. ‘I will tell you a story,’ the vampyr said. ‘Perhaps then you will understand.’