The Flight of the Griffin (16 page)

From behind it, Quint fired arrows while Loras continued to cast spells, freezing the air around the demon's feet to hinder its movement. It stumbled but didn’t fall as it continued its assault on Pardigan. Tarent moved back in and stabbed repeatedly at its back trying to make it turn around, then Pardigan let fly his second knife. Before it could find its mark it was snatched from the air and flung back at him with demonic force. It struck him in the leg and he collapsed to the floor with a scream of agony. Forcing himself not to be beaten by the pain, he glanced up, and then pushed himself back from the evil vision lumbering towards him. Fear entered his soul like a blade of ice.

Sensing at least one of its prey was now vulnerable, the demon closed in for the kill, bringing its sword up for a stabbing stroke to Pardigan’s head. The sword destroyed the ceiling on the upward stroke, showering the demon with plaster, and then swept down meeting nothing but air, exploded into the tiled floor of the corridor as Pardigan place-shifted back to his friends.

Snarling and shrieking in frustration, the demon spun around shaking its head as Quint let loose another volley of arrows. Raising an arm it managed to deflect most, yet one got through and struck it heavily in the same eye socket as Pardigan’s knife. Its scream almost deafened them, yet it continued to stagger forward, forcing the group to bunch against the tower door.

They knew that if they retreated into the room, they were doomed. They would never all make it up the staircase, not with both Mahra and Pardigan wounded; they had to make their stand here and now.

Out of arrows at last, Quint drew his sword and leapt forward alongside Tarent and for a few moments they drove the huge beast back. It then appeared to gain new resolve, as if goaded forward by some unseen presence, and began to press them even harder.

The arrow imbedded in the bloodied eye-socket was hissing and spluttering as black blood flowed over the glowing blue shaft. The demon was dying, but it wasn't happening fast enough. Its new attack sent Tarent spinning and one of his blades clattered to the stone floor. Sensing victory once again, the demon roared and moved forward. A clawed foot struck Tarent in the chest throwing him backwards into Pardigan's arms.

Quint blocked its advance, facing the beast alone. His sword flashed as he repeatedly struck the demon, with all his failing strength. If victory was to be decided upon skill and courage, then Quint would have triumphed again and again; yet skill and courage simply weren’t enough. His blade bounced from the demon’s skin doing little more than delaying the inevitable blow that would fell the tiring fighter. It wasn’t long before he was staggering, fighting exhaustion as well as the demon. Unable to do much more than deflect the demon’s attack and make a half-hearted defence. Sensing triumph at last, the demon rose to its full height, its head brushed the ceiling and plaster fell about it as it uttered a screech of triumph and advanced on Quint, its black blade poised to deliver the killing strike.

Staring up at the towering figure, Quint lifted his sword for what he knew would be the final time; and then time seemed to freeze. A robed figure dashed from behind him and leapt up at the demon.

Magician Clement was clutching the arrow Quint had given him and, using the force of his own momentum, he drove the arrow deep into the demon’s remaining eye. It cried a long agonised scream that echoed down the corridor into every part of the old Academy and finally fell down, dead. But as it fell, its heavy sword fell with it, striking the old magician a mortal blow, cutting him deeply from the shoulder down into his chest. He fell silently to the floor.

The Griffin
’s crew witnessed this final scene in a helpless daze with tears coming unbidden. Mahra changed back into a girl and ran forward to cradle the old man’s head in her lap. She stroked his long white hair and carefully wiped the demon’s blood from his face.

‘Oh, Magician Clement, you shouldn’t have done that. It was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen, you saved us all.’

The old man’s eyes opened and he tried to speak, his words coming in a soft whisper. ‘Do not confuse courage with necessity, my dear. When a person only has one choice, it's not just a matter of bravery. I simply did what we all did. I did all that I possibly could. You gave an old man the chance to do battle with evil and I thank you all for that.’ He peered around him and coughed, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. ‘It’s been a very strange day,’ he glanced back at Mahra and smiled. ‘Thank you for waking me, Mahra, thank you for today.’ The magician’s pale blue eyes fluttered and he died in her arms, the soft smile still upon his lips as she hugged him to her chest, weeping gently.

****

Belial leapt from his chair with a roar, his face no longer a beatific picture of calm.

‘Children!’ he kicked out, sending Bartholomew scuttling back to lean against the wall. ‘Children and an old man stand against a demon lord…and triumph? How is this possible?’ He paced the room attempting to regain some control. ‘You!’ he pointed to Matheus Hawk. ‘Take the fat one and journey by sea. Find them and follow them, learn of their movements. I shall ride with my brethren and meet with them personally. It is time for us to end this farce for I tire of the game.’ He stopped and took a deep breath to gather himself. ‘The time of Chaos is almost upon us. They will not be allowed to thwart what has always been written in the halls of time. The world has turned and will soon belong to my people; it is
our
time, for the balance has rightly swung to our favour. We hunger for the feast that has been promised us and no mere gaggle of children will
stop us.’

Matheus Hawk needed no further prompting. Grabbing Bartholomew by the collar, he half dragged him out of the door as the demon continued to rant. The pair made their escape down the stairs and pushed roughly through the drinking hall, eager to be out of Blake’s and into the fresh air. Once on the waterfront Bartholomew dropped thankfully to his knees, sucking in air noisily while trying to make some sense of what was happening to him.

‘Are...you...in...sane?’ he gasped, staring up at Matheus’s white face. ‘You have us in league with a Source damned demon!’ He climbed to his feet, only to be slapped down again by Matheus.

‘You keep a civil tongue, you fat fool. I’m well aware of our little problem in there, but events got out of control. The demons are on the same path as us, so we have nothing to fear from them, at least not at the moment we don’t.’

‘Nothing to fear!’ squealed Bartholomew only to be silenced with a look from Matheus. ‘Well I want nothing more to do with any of this. I’m the victim here, but I’ll not deal with demons to get my property back.’ He started to walk away, only to be stopped by Matheus’s laughter.

‘Are you really that stupid? You’re involved all the way, my friend. We have to get your trinkets back and destroy any link between us and that demon, the book, the knife and whatever else there is. He’s hunting those children; you don’t want to be next on his list, do you?

‘Do you have a boat, Mr Bask, because it looks like we’re going sailing, and that would be easier if we had a boat, would it not?’

Bartholomew's lip began to quiver, he was crestfallen, he’d been delighted to be out of that room and hadn’t even minded Mr Hawk handling him so roughly, just as long as he was leaving. Now he was being told he had to continue, and to sea no less. Bartholomew had never once taken to sea and he wasn’t excited by the prospect now.

‘Why can’t
you
go? There’s no need for me to be there, I’m a merchant not a sailor or soldier. I can supply you with a boat, but I’ll not go to sea myself.’ He attempted to look defiant to Matheus Hawk’s smiling face.

‘Oh, you’ll be coming, Mr Bask, you’ll most certainly be coming to oversee your investment so to speak. An’ if you don’t,’ he moved in closer; his breath rancid in Bartholomew’s face. ‘You’ll wake up with yer throat cut from ear…to ear.’ His dirty fingernail described a slow cut across Bartholomew’s neck.

Bartholomew started to sob. ‘Oh mercy, mercy me, what have I, an honest merchant, done to deserve all this?’ He slumped to the ground outside Blake’s, a pitiful sight, not caring who saw him now, as Matheus laughed at his distress.

‘Don’t you worry, Mr Bask, we’ll get the upper hand here and turn a profit to boot. Or my name’s not Matheus Hawk.’ He helped Bartholomew up and they walked off into the night in search of a boat with Bartholomew still crying at the injustice of it all.

****

Before leaping at the demon, Magician Clement had performed enough healing on Mahra to allow her ease of movement. Using the lesson Magician Clement had given them; Loras then healed it further, and closed the wound properly after cleansing the Chaos corruption that the demon’s blade had left bubbling there. Tarent had administered healing to Pardigan, who now limped, but would be able to help if something attacked the group.

‘We can’t just leave Magician Clement here,’ sobbed Mahra, ‘Not in this horrible place, it isn’t right.

‘I know, but we have to, he would understand.’ Tarent placed a hand on her shoulder and drew her away.

At last, they made it back to the entrance hall where the dim light of another dawn filtered through the broken doorway.

‘The storm has stopped,’ said Loras in awe as they emerged. It was far from a pleasant day, but it wasn't the storm-lashed centre of Chaos that it had been when they’d arrived. 

‘I think we’re already making some difference to the balance,’ said Mahra, smiling. ‘We’ve found the first skull and the spell is beginning to work.’ They ran to the cliff and carefully descended the treacherous path, eager to be on board
The Griffin
for a hot brew before leaving for wherever next the book would send them.

It was long past dark again when they did get to the book, gathering round as Quint slotted in the knife, changing the ragged pile of papers into the now familiar Book of Challenges.

‘Let’s see where we’re off to next then,’ said Quint as he turned the pages. Sure enough, a new page had appeared and Quint read out the passage with the others listening eagerly.

‘Well that would appear to be simple enough. We head for Minster and go searching for some people that are well hidden,’ said Pardigan laughing.

‘Who are the Hidden kind, and if they're hiding, where do we look?’ asked Loras, ignoring Pardigan with a frown.

Mahra became thoughtful, biting her lip nervously as she stared at the page. ‘Well…there are several old legends about the Hidden, but I thought they were just that, legends. I didn’t think they were real…maybe they are.’ She sat down on her stool, licking the back of her hand in a typically cat-like way, then realised what she was doing while still in human form and sat on her hands. ‘Magician Pew did once claim to be in contact with them, I didn’t believe him. It’s like saying you saw fairies or elves; they were never real…until now I suppose. People tell stories about the Hidden to frighten each other on stormy nights.

The legends say they remain away from the world of man cursed, they believe, to guard great secrets, not trusting a soul and shunning all contact. There are all kinds of horrible stories - none of them good. The ones I remember most are where they steal babies from their beds and eat…cats.’ She shivered at the memory of being told stories as a child. ‘Never leave a window open at night; it may let in the Hidden. I remember being told that.’

‘You don’t believe that though do you, Mahra?’ asked Quint with a frown.

‘I don’t know what to believe. Up until now they were simply childhood stories, but now they're becoming real. They’re supposed to live deep in the forests, so if they are real, and we have to find them, we might well find them in the forests of Minster.’ She didn’t appear happy. ‘And don’t forget, the book says they must agree to us taking the skull, we can’t just steal it.’

‘We’ll have to worry about that at the time,’ said Tarent. ‘We have the Minsten trading permit that Pardigan took; we'll just have to hope it's not been reported stolen. We will need something to trade, but it still won't be easy to get into Minster harbour. I suggest we go via Sterling Port and find some cargo.’

As the wind continued to moan outside, the crew sat and talked, allowing the tension of the last few days to melt away, until one by one they went to their bunks and slept.

****

Chapter 11

Gathering
Skulls

They departed
Skull Island without any problems, but the crew remained cautious and vigilant. Loras was noticeably nervous. Quint sent Pardigan forward to the bowsprit, where he guided their progress out between the rocks. It proved difficult as it was still raining and he was soon cold and soaked through but after manoeuvring, shouting and the occasional touch of the rocks they made it into open sea.