Eye of the Storm (24 page)

With a surge of strength born of desperation, Nipper twisted free again and regained his feet, but Scar did not give him a chance to recover. The big raptor knew he was close to victory and he
pressed home his advantage, charging after Nipper in another headlong attack. In the split second before Scar struck, Nipper had a moment of revelation and he suddenly realised what he had to
do.

The image of Sam taking down Nathan three times in quick succession in the rebel HQ lounge flashed through Nipper’s mind. His opponent was used to fighting raptor-style. It was unlikely he
would know anything of human fighting tactics. As Scar’s right hand whipped towards him in a slashing attack, he adopted the boy’s most memorable first counterattack. Swaying to the
left, he swept the arm aside with a hooking grab. His claws found the purchase he wanted and, gripping Scar’s wrist tightly, he twisted it over to the right. His execution of the move was not
as slick as Sam’s, but to his delight, the big raptor went down face first to the ground just as Nathan had, with his arm locked out straight. However, where Sam had stopped short of driving
his weight down on Nathan’s arm, Nipper showed no such mercy. His full weight dropped hard on to Scar’s locked elbow and the resounding crack as the arm snapped at the joint was
profoundly satisfying.

Scar roared with agony at the explosion of pain, but the roar was cut short. Before he had a chance to recover, Nipper had leapt on to his back, reached round his throat and torn it open with a
single vicious slice from his central claw. Scar bucked and writhed beneath him, but Nipper rode out the frenzy with renewed calm. A large pool of blood spread rapidly beneath them and the mortally
wounded raptor’s efforts to escape faded fast.

Nipper could not resist giving Scar a parting comment. Keeping his weight firmly bearing down on his opponent, he put his mouth close to Scar’s ear.

‘That’s one of the reasons I like humans,’ he growled softly. ‘If you take the time to observe them, you can learn many things: even new ways of fighting. You dishonoured
raptor tradition with your kill on the train, Captain. The manner of your death today is fitting reward.’

Scar surged upward in one final futile effort to throw Nipper from his back, and then dropped limp to the ground. Nipper waited until he saw the life fade from his enemy’s eyes before
climbing slowly to his feet. Suddenly, the world spun and the pain of his wounds threatened to overwhelm him. His body felt slick with blood, most of it his own.

Then the noise of the crowd struck him. The roar of appreciation for his victory was unlike anything he’d ever imagined. It was as if the air was alive, hammering at him from every side.
Beaten and bleeding as he was, the sensation was almost too much.

He could feel, rather than see, the titanic image of himself being projected into the air above the square. Would the technology pick out his voice from the tumultuous roars of the crowd? He
drew in a deep breath.

‘Blood for blood,’ he growled, forcing out the ritual words. ‘Life for life. Release the prisoners to me and I shall see justice served upon them.’

The High Council of the Imperium gathered at the top of the stairs and it appeared that a heated debate was taking place. What could they be arguing about? He had challenged and beaten their
champion in fair combat. Thousands of city raptors had witnessed the fight. They could not deny him his right. It was a tradition that had been upheld for over a millennium.

The crowd began to chant in support of his victory. ‘Re . . . lease. Re . . . lease. Re . . . lease.’

The chant grew in strength until it echoed from every quarter. Still the Council remained in their circle, ignoring the crowd and continuing their debate. After what seemed an age they broke and
reformed their line at the top of the steps. Some of the Council did not look happy. The Voice stepped forward and raised his hands for silence. He got it. The chants died rapidly and all eyes
focused on him or his projection.

‘Blood for blood. . .’ he repeated. A great roar of approval went up from the crowd, but the Voice held up his hands once more for silence. ‘
A
life for
a
life,’ he continued, emphasising the subtle change. ‘The Council acknowledges your victory and releases your blood brother to you. However, we deem your adoption of the humans invalid.
There is no precedent for a raptor championing humans under the old traditions. Therefore, it has been decided that in the greater interest of raptor-kind and the Imperium, we will not release
them. They will meet Imperium justice for their traitorous acts as scheduled.’

‘No!’ Nipper roared. ‘This is not justice! They are my family. They are mine by right of challenge. Every raptor here heard my challenge and your acceptance of it. You cannot
change the rules because you lost.’

‘Youngling, we are the High Council of the Imperium. We
are
the law. You do not dictate to us what we can and cannot do. We have decided.’ He turned his head to address the
leader of the guards. ‘Do it,’ he ordered.

‘Blood for blood!’ Nipper roared again. ‘A life for a life. I challenge again for the lives of the humans. If I must fight for each of them in turn, I will. I refuse to leave
them. They are my family.’

Even the act of issuing the new challenge made his head spin. Although he knew he had no real chance of winning, his gut burned with anger at the Council’s decision. He would rather die
than give up the humans without a fight now.

The Voice looked down at him, snarling with derision. ‘Even if I wanted to assist your certain death by granting another challenge, I could not. The Council has decided, youngling. Your
challenge is denied. Go. Take your blood brother and do not enter this city again. His acts of treason against the Imperium will not be forgotten. Neither he, nor you by association, are welcome
here. Guards – get rid of them and execute the humans.’

Before he could respond further, Nipper was surrounded by raptor guards who led him firmly from the centre of the square to the barrier that held the crowd line. Einstein appeared next to him,
also shepherded by several guards. He said nothing. Thanks would not have been appropriate at this point.

‘No! No! Don’t do this. Please. Let me go! Arrrggghhh!’

Alex’s pleading voice, followed by the unmistakable sound of him being impaled sent a lance of white-hot fury through Nipper, but he did not look back. He could not bring himself to do it.
The Council’s decision was wrong. He felt the injustice of it through every fibre of his being, but he was powerless to stop them.

* * *

‘NO!’ Sam shouted, sinking to his knees as he stared at the holographic projection at the back of the hangar. ‘NO! Nipper won. They can’t do this.
It’s wrong. MUM! They can’t! They can’t!’

The sight of Alex being lifted and forced onto the gigantic spike made him retch. The impaling post drove into Alex’s back and out through his chest as the raptors pulled his body down
until he was almost on the ground. To Sam’s horror, the man’s scream did not cut off instantly and his arms and legs continued to move. Sam could see the look of shock and pain on
Alex’s face as he clutched in vain at the post. It looked as though he was torn between wanting to somehow attempt to remove it and yet not wanting to move, as every movement intensified the
pain.

The guards removed Claire Cutler’s chains and prepared to lift her. Unlike Alex, she did not beg for release. The holo-imager zoomed in on her, looking to capture her fear for those in the
crowd too far from the centre to see. However, if Claire was scared, she had buried the emotion deep. Instead, sensing her chance, she calmly began to speak in the raptor language.

Sam turned to Sherri.

‘Please,’ he begged her. ‘What’s she saying?’

Sherri frowned with concentration and began to translate.

‘We have tried to help you – perhaps now some of you will see the truth. Your High Council deceive you. Today they ignored one of your longest-held traditions, but that is far from
their worst crime. Behind your backs they are destroying your world and blaming it on us humans. Remember my words. Test them. And would someone please send word to my family that I love them . . .
and tell my son he should try to go home.’

The guards lifted Claire over another of the wicked spikes, but she did not struggle. Sam looked away, unable to watch. Tears filled his eyes and he sobbed. All strength left him. He felt as if
his body weight had just doubled. He couldn’t move. He gritted his teeth, tensed and clenched his eyelids tightly shut as he waited for his mother to cry out in pain. When after several
seconds he had heard nothing, he made the mistake of opening his eyes and looking back at the screen.

‘NO!’ Niamh gasped, dropping to her knees on the lawn, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Mum! Sam?’

‘What’s the matter, Niamh? Are you all right?’

Niamh ignored Archie’s question. Her brother’s presence inside her mind was the strongest she had felt since returning to England. His mind was reeling with shock. Something terrible
was happening. At first, she thought he must be hurt, but then she realised his only hurt was emotional. She would have felt an echo of physical pain. This was not about him at all. It was
something to do with their mother. What was going on that could get Sam into this sort of mental state?
Mum must be in serious trouble for him to be this worked up
, she thought. A keen sense
of horror swept through her and she felt herself tense up inside.

Sam was holding a gun! It was as if she could feel the weight of it in her hands.
A gun! What was Sam doing with a gun?
Worse, she could feel he was experiencing a burning desire to use
it – to kill. The sensation shocked her to the core. Her brother
wanted
to kill. And she could feel that this was no passing curiosity, no random thought about what it would be like to
kill. He was filled with a burning desire to aim the rifle he was carrying at someone and pull the trigger. How could this be? This was not the brother she knew.

A hand on her shoulder brought her partly back to the present.

‘Are you feeling ill? Shall I get Mother?’

‘No, Archie,’ she snapped. ‘I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.’

But she was wrong. At that moment, an image entered her mind that would stay with her for the rest of her life. It was worse than her most horrible nightmare.

‘Please God, no!’ she gasped. ‘It can’t be. It can’t! Oh, Sam! Mum! No!’

Darkness took her.

* * *

Niamh coughed, suddenly choking as she fought to surface from the nightmare. Confused images twisted through her mind. Mum impaled on a giant spike. Monsters. Guns.
Strange-looking flying machines. Panic.

An incredibly strong smell of ammonia flooded her nostrils, filling her sinuses with a burning sensation. She coughed again and struggled to pull away from the source.

‘It’s all right, Niamh. Relax,’ Aggie soothed. ‘You’re fine. You just fainted, that’s all. The smelling salts are to help bring you round. Archie says he came
and found me as soon as you passed out. You’ve only been unconscious a minute or so. Two at the most.’

‘Please, take it away,’ she gagged. ‘Too much.’

‘OK, Niamh,’ Aggie crooned. ‘There you go. The lid’s back on now. Just let me know if you think you need another dose. There now. What on earth brought this on? Are you
prone to this sort of thing? Matt has never mentioned anything about you suffering fainting spells.’

‘No, Aunt Aggie,’ Niamh replied, struggling up into a sitting position. ‘I don’t make a habit of this sort of thing.’

‘Archie says that just before you passed out you said something about Sam and your mother. . .’

The terrible image filled her mind’s eye again and Niamh felt the blood draining from her face. She couldn’t tell Aggie. She couldn’t! Given her aunt’s reaction to the
possibility of a mental link with her brother during the interview the previous day, Aggie would never believe what she had seen anyway.

‘He did? That’s strange. I don’t remember anything,’ Niamh lied, closing her eyes as she pretended to concentrate. ‘It’s all a blank. I remember Archie was
going to show me where we used to make dens when we were younger. We were walking across the lawn towards the trees and the next thing I knew my head was threatening to explode with the stench from
those smelling salts.’

‘Hmm. Perhaps you’ve not been drinking enough. A lack of fluids can make you light-headed sometimes. You sit here and I’ll go and get you something. What would you like?
Lemonade? Dinner is nearly ready. Some food will probably help as well.’

‘A glass of lemonade would be lovely, thanks.’

As Aggie marched away towards the house clutching her jar of smelling salts, Archie gave Niamh a calculating look.

‘You lied to her,’ he said, a note of outrage in his voice. He kept his voice low so there was no chance his mother would hear. ‘I watched you as you answered her question. You
do remember what you said before you passed out, don’t you? You remember perfectly.’