Slotting another bolt into his crossbow, Pux ran down the golden-cream corridor and headed towards the Heart where he was sure the Lord Prophet would be. Veins of grass green fungi illuminated the passageways with a soft emerald glow like the sun filtering through a thin leaf on a summer’s day. He encountered no sign of resistance as he ran through the first few rooms although he could see signs of a recent battle. A few stray bodies littered the floor, blood smeared the aged walls and occasional gashes bled sap where a weapon hid bitten into the tree’s flesh. Pux borrowed a discarded sword from the side of a young warrior’s corpse. He looked barely out of his teens.

Navigating through the vast maze-like structure of the tree, it took Pux longer than he would have liked to reach the Heart. He peered around the corner into the long aisle that led to a golden door. That ornate wood was all that barred access from the core of the tree. Two Fallen stood guard beside the now battered door and patches of blood stained the floor. Bodies from both armies clustered the hallway.

Pux span around the corner, releasing a bolt as he dodged two arrows that flew to meet him. Without wasting a moment he charged forward. The bolt struck the guard to the left through his stomach, pinning him to the door. The second guard let loose another arrow which Pux deflected with a deft flick of his borrowed sword. He delivered a swift slash across the remaining guard’s chest who fell to the floor with a scream. Pux stepped over his crumpled body and inched opened the door. It was designed for two Yuxova to open but Pux managed it alone, swinging the first guard who was still pinned to it.

The Heart was as stunning as Pux remembered it. He had only been here once before, on the day that he had been given the rank of Captain. More of the glowing moss formed beautiful patterns around the soft core-wood. Golden leaves grew along the ceiling and around pillars that filled the room in concentric rings. At their centre was a bone-white alter where a silver sapling grew from a hole filled with dark soil.

To Pux’s surprise, only three Yuxova occupied the chamber. A handful of bodies that belonged to the Protectors of the Heart were sprawled messily around the floor. Their strong bodies, strict training and hardened redscale armour had not helped them in the least. There was not a single Fallen corpse to indicate a battle had been fought there.

The Lord Prophet Xuex stood beside the altar, resplendent in his snow white robes. Combined with his well-kept white hair and beard and his albino skin he looked like a divine spirit among the living. He held the tall silver staff known as the Key of Life firmly in both smooth hands. Before him two Yuxova fought with a fury that Pux could hardly believe.

One of the combatants was Captain Vexil, leader of the Yuxova soldiers that guarded the Tree of Ages. The other Yuxova had the dull grey skin of a Fallen One but the similarities with the invaders ended there. He was twice the size of a regular Yuxova in all aspects, his hands looking easily capable of crushing Vexil’s skull. He did not look like a monstrosity though. It somehow looked natural, like a Yuxova should grow to that height. His armour was just a scaled up version of the normal Fallen equivalent, albeit being of a far finer quality. An elegantly curved sword rested in each of his hands. He wore dark hair in a ponytail while a thin beard and moustache combo framed his dominant jaw and thin lips. Eyes that gleamed purple sat above a hooked nose.

Neither fighter slowed but Pux was certain that they had already noted his presence and assessed his possible impacts upon the situation. Not that he could do a great deal at the moment. The two Yuxova fought at a level that Pux had no hope of competing with. If he jumped to aid Vexil then he would be little more than a distraction, a child for the other captain to protect.

Vexil rolled under a wide arcing sweep of the giant Yuxova blade but had no time to jab at his opponent’s back before he was kicked across the room. He hit a pillar that was obliterated a moment later by the oversized sword. Vexil dived away and was on his feet in an instant. His blade darted out, striking the larger Yuxova across the calf in an attempt at hamstringing his foe. The metal barely made it past leather-like skin.

The Fallen shrugged off the damage. He slashed down and Vexil tried to parry. His sword was knocked clean out of his hands and stuck itself firmly near the top of a nearby pillar. Undeterred, Vexil thumped any spot he could reach that was not guarded with armour. He dodged away from an attack but then another caught him just under his shoulder. Vexil hissed in pain, staggered back and fell on a section of rubble.

Without emotion, the giant Yuxova stabbed down, lodging his blade through Vexil’s gut and into the wooden ground below. He left it stuck there and approached the Lord Prophet.

“Where is the Oracle? We know that you have it hidden,” the Fallen Yuxova boomed. He held out a broad hand. “Give it to me now and your pathetic race will survive for a few years longer.”

The Lord Prophet eyed the giant calmly. “You will not take what you desire. We Yuxova are the chosen protectors of the Oracle. Our lives are bound to its safety.”

With a low sneer the Fallen recovered his blade. “Then your lives are forfeit.” He brought the sword down upon the elderly Yuxova with a crash.

Pux skidded into place at the last instant. The impact of the dark metal smashing into Pux’s sword sent the smaller fighter straight to his knees. Without hesitating, the Fallen kicked Pux away and prepared himself to strike down the albino prophet again.

A crossbow bolt pounded into his shoulder. A pained grunt issued out from the Fallen. He whipped around and plucked a second bolt from the air before it too could pierce his flesh. With cold eyes he cast the bolt away and rounded on Pux. An oversized hand pinned the young captain to the wall before he could escape while the second hand wrenched the crossbow effortlessly away. It cracked then shattered as he clenched his hand.

“Is this what counts for a captain now?” the Fallen snorted. “My brothers would weep if they knew just how weak you tree-dwellers have become.”

A sharp thud caused the giant to turn back to the Lord Prophet, his arm never loosening its grip on Pux. The white-robed Yuxova had fixed the invader with stern eyes.

“That is enough, betrayer. You will not harm another of my subjects.” The Lord Prophet adjusted the Key of Life so that its tip was pointed out at the Fallen’s throat.

“You think to best me?” rumbled the giant ominously. “I was a captain before you were even born.” He whistled a single sharp note and from the doorway spilled a dozen black shrouded Yuxova with wicked daggers. Not an inch of their skin was uncovered. “Search the chamber. Find me the Oracle. I will deal with this fool.”

“As you command, Chosen Goliox.” The shadowy warriors saluted with a fist to the chest then dispersed themselves around the room. Their every movement was fast and precise.

The giant, Goliox, threw Pux straight upward. Pux hit the ground hard several seconds later. All of the air was knocked out of him and every joint felt torn. Goliox had already moved away and was circling with the Lord Prophet before Pux had landed.

Steel clashed with silver as Goliox brought his weapon down upon the elderly Yuxova. The Lord Prophet blocked the attack, his aged bones still capable of holding up against the Fallen’s superior strength. A fluidity that belied his frail build became apparent in the old man as he weaved his way around Goliox’s attacks.

“Captain Wutoxa, while life still flows through your veins you must not allow these traitors to gain possession of the Oracle.” Xuex gave the order calmly, never taking his eyes from the swinging blade that sought his life.

Pux twitched. The words broke through his mental fog, sparking the flame of resilience within that had fled his body with his breath. Inhaling deeply he dragged himself into a standing position and grabbed his sword. For a moment his eyes focussed on the Lord Prophet but a slight shake of his bearded head dashed any thoughts of Pux rushing to his aid.

No sooner had Pux taken his first step toward the shadowclad warriors, they stopped their searching and turned to him in perfect synchronisation. Before Pux could even blink, every one of them seemed to have spawned a handful of throwing stars. He cursed. The room shimmered with spinning metal that filled Pux’s vision.

Previous – Chapter 42. From Stone to Steel.

Next – Chapter 44. Torn from Home.

Without conscious thought he squeezed his own crossbow’s trigger. The two bolts met in mid air, sparks flying off in all directions. Shattered scraps of wood hit the ground mere feet from Billy. The boy stood in shock, staring at the destroyed bolts. Seeing its target still standing the Forukk readied another shot. It snarled as it released the projectile.

Blood splattered the walls. Billy snapped out of blankness. Zak was running towards him. He had cut down the Forukk without slowing and managed to catch the bolt mid flight. He did not stop even as he passed Billy.

“Hey! Where are you going?” shouted Billy at Zak’s back.

“Away from the scary rocks,” came Zak’s response from the distance.

“Scary rocks?” Billy mused. Only then did he realise the ground was shaking and thunder seemed to roll through the tunnels. The roof collapsed in front of him, crushing the Forukk’s dead body. Billy then followed Zak’s example and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

By the time Billy reached the others he was exhausted but the tunnels were still falling down around them. To increase their speed, Liam had put Trey on his back and carried him in that manner as they ran for safety.

None of them knew where they were heading but were just following their feet while trying not to be flattened. The candle had long since flickered from existence but Zak’s axe once again lit the way forward.

“This way!” called Dawn from the front of the group. As she was the fastest she was a good few feet in front of the others. She darted around a corner through a strong looking entrance frame. The room inside also looked sturdy, or to be more precise, the cavern. The others followed her in, Liam just passing through the gap as rocks rained down inches behind him. The entrance became a solid wall of debris.

“Damn. How are we supposed to get out of here now?” asked Billy to no one in particular.

“Look on the bright side,” said Dawn. “We’re all still alive.”

“Yes. Instead of being crushed and dying instantly we can starve to death,” said Liam in a solemn voice as he lent Trey against a wall.

“No. We’ll die of dehydration before starvation even sets in,” Zak pointed out happily.

“Look,” said a slightly flustered Dawn. “You’re straying from my point. We’re all alive so we can find a way out of here.”

“Then walk straight into the Forukk’s lair,” added Liam with a shrug.

“Who are you?” asked a croaky voice from behind them.

Zak stepped forwards holding out his axe. The light revealed twelve men huddled in a corner. They looked like miners despite the fact that the mine had been closed for over two decades. Their work suits were ripped, many had lost their helmets and they had no visible skin through the thick layers of dust that coated them from their heads to their toes.

“Who are you would be a better question,” replied Billy to the men. “The mine is inactive.”

“Officially yes it is. To keep Pastrino self reliant, The Lord secretly kept the mine active on a small scale. We are the miners chosen to carry out this secretive task. What about you? You are all in the mine, heavily armed and seem to have knowledge on those monsters outside.”

“The short story is we’re just passing through here to save all the people taken as slaves when Pastrino was destroyed,” said Billy.

The closest miner let out a sigh. “So the city was destroyed. We figured as much from the sounds above us. Then those monsters started patrolling the mines. We all thought we would die here.”

“You still might if we don’t move all these rocks from the doorway,” said Liam in his usual uplifting voice.

“It could take days of solid work to clear the entrance and the passage beyond it. Then we’d have to deal with those monsters. Even if we can get out we have nowhere to go,” whined the youngest of the miners.

“Moaning isn’t going to solve anything.” From the place against the wall where his body had been laid Trey rose to his feet and began to move rocks from their place blocking the way out.

The others moved to help, including the miners but Dawn motioned them to keep back. She had to physically take Trey away from the blockage before he stopped moving stones. “The ground around here has a high sand density. We people of the desert can deal with sand.

She drew out her necklace and held it tightly with her left hand. With her right she placed her palm against the surface of the rocks and lost herself in a fast tempo chant. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her limbs shook slightly. As the chanting reached its climax, the debris before her began to vibrate then the next second the rocks disintegrated into flowing sand. She staggered back, laughed then collapsed.

“The way we came is blocked,” called Billy as the others fussed over Dawn. “Forwards is open though.”

“Do you miners know a way out of the mines that we can get to without going the way we came?” asked Trey.

“No. All the entrances are back east, we’re too far west to find any exits,” replied the young miner.

An ancient looking miner stepped forwards. He had not moved once up until then, only watched the teenagers with a careful eye. His body was large and very strong but his face was wrinkled and looked very fragile. “There is a way out we can take.”

A few of the other miners looked uncomfortable as their gaze fell upon the old man. One looked like he was about to speak but then looked down at his feet like the others.

“There is an exit that opens up straight into the Shadowlands. I do not like it but it is the only way out.” The old man stepped out of the room. “I will show you the way.”

The other miners formed up around him like guards, their pickaxes held ready. Liam gently picked Dawn up while Billy, Zak and Trey hung back to protect the rear.

No sign appeared that gave any mention of Forukks nearby. The only sounds were their own footsteps and heavy breaths. If anything it was too quiet. The Forukks should have been on their trails like cats on mice.

After hours of nothing but walking the old man, who had introduced himself as Oliver Bailey, head miner, called a halt at what seemed to be a dead end. In the light from Zak’s axe they could see that at the end of the passage was a slab of obsidian with a skull carved upon its surface.

“It’s time,” Mr Bailey stated as he took a mighty swing at the centre of the slab with his pickaxe. Both the obsidian and the pickaxe cracked. He swung again and his pickaxe shattered. He was about to swing for a third time with another pickaxe when Zak stopped him.

“Allow me.” With a flick of his wrist his axe met the slab which exploded outwards into the world beyond.

The stale air of the mines gave way to a tainted breeze as the group looked out upon a dreary setting. The exit opened out onto the side of a steep cliff with only a small ledge to step out onto. All of the trees were twisted husks with no leaves and everything seemed to have a grey tinge. Rain specked the sky giving the whole area a blurry look.

“We’re near the top,” called Zak, who had walked straight out to inspect the area. He reached above him and soon vanished from sight.

“All clear,” he called down to the group.

One by one everybody climbed the short distance to the top until only Liam and Dawn were left. She had regained just enough consciousness to grip onto his back while he slowly pulled himself over the edge. When he reached the top Dawn slid off of him.

“Shouldn’t you have carried her?” he asked Zak. “Considering you’re the strongest and have the greatest endurance.”

“Yeah but we need you to pull your weight somehow.”

“I don’t like the taste of the air here, we shouldn’t stay too long,” said Mr Bailey.

“As much as I dislike it, we are not soldiers, nor can we fight. For the most part we are battered and hungry and only have pickaxes for weapons. We cannot help you to save our people and that deeply grieves me. We will not be coming with you,” sighed Mr Bailey.

The other miners were visibly relieved at not having to venture further into Miankkuth. No sooner had the relief passed then shame hit their faces. They too wanted to save their friends and family.

“Good luck,” said Mr Bailey as he looked deeply into each of their eyes. “Kill some of those monsters for us if you can.” He turned, motioned his men to follow then headed off south, away from Pastrino.

“Now all we need to do is find our way to Lanstiro without alerting the guards,” said Trey to no one in particular. “Anyone have an idea which way to go.”

“I know!” shouted out Zak. “Let’s ask him.” He pointed to a Forukk stood directly behind Liam.

“Holy Sprite! How did that sneak up on us?” shouted Billy in surprise.

The Forukk was huge. It was bigger than the one Zak fought in the mines. It was like a massive blot on the landscape. One of its arms was a giant tentacle while it’s other had hundreds of spikes protruding from its flesh. It had a third eye on its forehead and had sharp bones sticking up from its knees.

Before anyone could react the Forukk had grabbed Dawn with its tentacle. She screamed out in pain as it began to squeeze her. Nobody had any Boom-balls left and Zak could not risk explosive Nimula as it could hit Dawn. Both Billy and Zak leapt forwards to attack as Liam rolled away from the beast’s spiked arm as it fell towards him. The Forukk swatted the two boys away using Dawn before firing a volley of spikes from its arm onto the battlefield.

“Damn it!” roared Trey as he yanked a bloody spike from his shoulder. “It’s too strong.”

The Forukk gave off a booming laugh that shook the ground then its mouth began to glow purple. An unbelievable heat rolled across the land that made everyone still standing sink down to their knees. Being hit by whatever the Forukk was about to do was certain death. There was no doubt about it.

A boom louder than thunder and a flash greater than lightning shook Trey’s senses. His eyes only saw white whether they were open or closed. A distant crackling was all he could hear. At first he thought he was dead but he was in too much pain to be anything but healthy.

As his vision cleared he was surprised to see the giant Forukk laying in two halves on the ground with a woman standing in-between the two. In one arm she held Dawn; in the other she loosely held a blood stained chakram.

“Hi,” she giggled. “Are you here to die like the big guy?”

Previous – Chapter 41. Onlasarian Pride.

Next – Chapter 43. The Oracle.

Serka smiled as he watched the Onlasarian defenders being slaughtered by his men. The battle was going well now that the gates had been opened. His fellow barbarians had managed to destroy any that stood against them on the walls. Those defenders that had not been slain were now retreating towards the castle in the vain hope that they could resist the enemy there. Baranox had sold them all out for his own protection. Civilization did not mean much in the face of death. Not that Baranox’s deal would save him. Serka hated cowards more than anything else in the world.

The barbarian leader was slightly vexed at the fact that he had found no worthy opponent. Not one person managed even ten seconds. He sighed. That was what he got for being the strongest, he thought to himself. Oh well, there is still plenty of killing to be had.

After continuing through the city, indiscriminately killing any that got in his way, he saw something that put a smile back on his face. He saw someone he recognised and who he knew would hopefully be a worthy opponent. It was the enemy commander, Mike Nakai. He looked slightly worse for wear but still had his fighting spirit.

A roar of joy bellowed from Serka’s lungs and a huge smile was fixed upon his face as he raced towards the commander. “This is gonna be good!”

* * *

“This is not good,” sighed Nakai as he watched the giant of a man charging towards him looking overjoyed. He pulled his blade from a barbarian’s gut then readied himself.

Nakai darted to the side as Serka swung down at him. The club cracked the cobbles where Nakai had just been standing. The barbarian kept swinging and all Nakai could do was dodge the attacks. Their fight took them to the centre of the city. Many warriors around them had stopped fighting to watch them both.

Serka delivered a blow that took the Commander off guard. Nakai only had time to raise his sword in a feeble attempt to block it. The impact took Nakai from his feet and sent him hurtling backwards. His body smashed through a wooden door then rolled across the ground for another few yards.

All air was knocked from his lungs. Several of his bones had broken and his whole body was badly bruised. He slowly opened his eyes and laughed bitterly. Ironic, his last fight would take place in the great stadium.

“Well, I’m not going to die by just staying down here and waiting,” he grunted as he stood, coughing blood as he straightened.

“Good!” bellowed Serka. “You’ve still got some fight in you. Time for some real fun, try and stay alive a few more minutes at least.”

The barbarian charged and Nakai leapt to the side, lunging with his unbroken arm at a joint in Serka’s armour. The blade struck its target drawing blood but this did not deter his foe in the slightest. If anything it encouraged him. One more hit and Nakai was dead. The commander knew it, as did Serka and all the warriors who had abandoned combat and gathered in the stadium’s tiers to watch this epic battle.

“If I’m going to die I swear I’m taking you with me!” shouted Nakai.

“And how do you plan to do that when you can barely keep on your feet,” answered Serka in a somewhat disappointed tone at not receiving a good fight.

The Commander inspected a nearby Onlasarian corpse, quickly kneeling to search the body. From its battle pack Nakai retrieved two unused boom-balls.

“So much for an honourable death in a sword fight like I hoped,” muttered Nakai as he lit the fuses and sprinted towards Serka.

Serka, realising his peril, readied himself to smash the Commander and his explosives to the other side of the stadium. When he was within range he swung. Nakai ducked the attack and continued. Serka pulled his club back in and lunged, hitting Nakai square in the chest.

There was a sickening crunch. In the brief second that separated the crunch from the explosion the scene looked like this: Serka’s club was against the Commanders chest, all of his ribs broken, some puncturing organs. Nakai held a boom-ball in each hand and had smashed them into both sides of Serka’s head, breaking teeth and his jaw bone.

The ensuing explosion filled the whole stadium. Fire and smoke flew outwards at an alarming pace and the sound was deafening. Neither of the two men had a chance to scream. As the smoke cleared the carnage became apparent.

Nothing was left of Serka except jagged shards of twisted black metal, fragments of splintered bone and a nasty looking stain on the floor and nearby walls. As for Nakai, his body was still mostly whole. It lay a few feet from the crater the explosion had left. Serka’s final attack had pushed him back even as the boomballs had erupted. All of his hair had been burned off and he was missing his left arm all the way to the shoulder. Cuts covered every inch of his skin and his armour was nothing but rags.

An Onlasarian soldier checked his body and rejoiced at a pulse. It was very faint but it was there all the same. He and three fellow warriors lifted him onto a large wooden board and carried him off towards the castle for aid. They had not travelled far when a strange voice halted them.

“Ah, so he killed that brute. He’s saved me a great task. Now that Serka is gone, I am the leader of these savages.” It was the barbarian sorcerer. “For aiding me I’ll give you a quick painless death, Commander.”

The four warriors placed Nakai onto the ground and drew their swords. With a mere flick of his wrists the men began to unravel. Their screams were terrible to hear like some hellish nightmare. The wizard then turned his attention back to the near dead Nakai.

He raised his hands and began to chant. Blood sprayed across Nakai’s face but it was not his own. A spear was protruding from the spellweaver’s chest. A battered and burnt looking Suzy Fireblood held its shaft.

“That’ll teach you to set me on fire, you Sprite dropping!” she snarled.

She motioned to some nearby warriors and together they took Nakai back to the castle. The battle would have to wait. He needed to live.

* * *

The three members of Avocado Dusk had fared well during the battle. They had stuck together and had killed a dozen barbarians between them. Now they were cornered by around twenty of the enemy and the trio’s blades were dull and blunted. Hope for the great band seemed lost.

The lead singer stepped forwards and shouted, “Roadies, attack!” At first the barbarians had laughed. Then, from seemingly nowhere, a pack of crazed looking young people assaulted their band’s foes with a bestial rage. Their weapons ranged from swords to overgrown fingernails. One roadie even carved a man’s head in with a spork.

The barbarians fled in terror at the pure ferocity of the attack. Avocado Dusk shared a quick high five then drank deeply from hip-flasks filled with alcohol.

“Cheers!”

* * *

“The battle is won, sir. All the invaders have retreated from the city or have been killed,” stated Suzy Fireblood from her chair. She was in the medical bay and was wrapped heavily in bandages. 

Beside her was the disfigured body of Commander Nakai. Healers still fussed around him but he had finally regained consciousness. Nakai would have sat up in his hospital bed or done something but none of his body parts would move. It was even agony to breathe.

“How many do we have left?” he managed to ask.

Suzy hesitated a moment. “We have around four and a half thousand able bodied soldiers remaining. Civilian casualties were low, few died.”

“Good. Rally the warriors and tell them to prepare for battle,” Nakai ordered.

“But we won. The barbarians won’t be back for a long time.”

“I know. That was just a warm up battle that meant very little in the grand scheme of things. The real battle is what those kids from Pastrino are heading for and they’ll need all the help they can get.”

The young lieutenant seemed about to argue but managed to resist. Grudgingly she asked, “What are your orders, Commander?”

“Give the men a day to rest. Then we ride for the Abyss.”

Previous – Chapter 40. The Yuxova.

Next – Chapter 42. From Stone to Steel.

Trees sped by around them as the two Yuxova captains darted through the labyrinth of branches. They had joined up with sixty of Kenux’s surviving warriors then rounded up Pux’s platoon before even heading towards their destination. Without their captain, the hundred Yuxova warriors had been kept in reserve so were eager to enter the fight. Along the way several warriors from other squads had joined them after having been routed from the battle. A great mass of bird mounted Yuxova warriors now followed them towards the Tree of Ages in a living cloud of angry two inch high soldiers.

Pux was horrified by the damage that lay all around him. Tree trunks littered the leaf strewn ground where they had been roughly felled. Charcoal stained sectors of the forest black. These scorched patches looked to have been well contained but there were many of them. The corpses of Forukks usually accompanied the damage, tainting the ground where they lay. A handful of tiny bodies were scattered around most of these areas.

The sound of combat came before any sighting of the current battleground. Pux burst through the leaves of an oak tree and was confronted with the scene of thirty or so Forukks advancing toward the nearby Yuxova settlement with blades and blazing torches. Yuxova swirled around the monsters but were spread too thinly to truly damage the thick-skinned beasts.

“Initiate the Razor-wind formation,” Kenux ordered. The warriors behind him grouped closer together as they flew, forming a great, shapeless mass of life. The host of birds dove at the Forukks, the cloud of feathers piling into the howling creatures and absorbing them into the heart of the swarm. Forukks thrashed and roared, striking down birds with every swing.

As one, the birds rocketed back into the skies. The Forukks were sprawled motionless below, ripped clean of all of their tainted flesh. Dull grey bones could be glimpsed where the armour did not cover. Small groups of Yuxova on pigeons rushed with buckets of water to douse the torches before their flames could spread.

The leader of the Yuxova who had been engaging the Forukks drew his bird up beside Kenux and Pux. “Glad you came when you did, sirs. We were holding back the Forukks easily until those damned traitors showed up. The Lord Prophet ordered most of the soldiers to pull back and defend the Tree of Ages. The second that our forces were split, the Forukks launched another attack. It makes no sense but everything is screaming at me that the Fallen must be working with the Forukks.”

“Do we have any clear numbers yet?” Kenux asked briskly.

“I’m no captain so I don’t know for sure,” the Yuxova began. “From what I’ve seen and heard though, I’d say we’re dealing with at least another fifty Forukks and upwards of five hundred Fallen. We should have the numbers to force them back but we are too scattered and cannot regroup.”

“Who is in-charge here?” Pux put to the sergeant.

“Captain Lexisow and her Night-Riders command the defence against the Forukks. She is south-west of here by the root bridge,” answered the sergeant wearily.

Kenux made a quick guess of his own numbers. They had gathered over two hundred soldiers but had suffered losses against the Forukks. “Take a hundred men and join up with Captain Lexisow. Tell her that we went on ahead. Kill the brutes as fast as is possible then swing back around to help us.”

“As you command, Captain.”

After quickly splitting their forces, Pux and Kenux led what remained of their soldiers north-west. The Tree of Ages stood alone in a small clearing that was holy ground to all Yuxova. The city of Iliox had been constructed around the vast tree and was home to nearly every Yuxova in Farava. The Lord Prophet himself resided within the mighty tree.

Screams and shouts filled the clearing and the nearby trees that formed vast structures within Iliox. Yuxova battled everywhere. Combat raged across the forest ground while birds fought fiercely in midair. The very trees swarmed with soldiers who leapt from branch to branch, darting in and out of trunks and gliding from one platform to another with webbed coats.

Warriors in the dull green and brown clothes of the Forest Guardians were locked in battle with red clad Yuxova who wore black metal armour over their bright attire. Unlike the tanned skin of the local Yuxova, the Fallen had ash grey flesh that seemed unable to sweat. Despite what the sergeant had said, the invaders seemed to outnumber the defenders by a fair margin.

“Looks like they’ve captured the area surrounding the palace and have prepared a welcome party for us.” Pux smiled grimly as he watched the forest erupt with black and red armoured traitors. They seemed to ooze from behind every leaf and out of every crevasse that the trees had to offer.

“Just how I like it,” murmured Kenux. “Takes me back to my youth.”

Kenux lifted his blade high then roared a battle-cry. The other Yuxova took up the cry and charged into the battle to help the beleaguered defenders. The two forces met at breakneck speed. Several birds fell from the sky as the two solid masses came together. The centre became a swirling storm of shouts, screams, feathers, weapons, blood and death.

Pux lost sight of Kenux almost immediately. A crow had flown into him at full speed, its beak only held back by Pux’s sword. The crow’s rider advanced upon Pux with his mace raised. With one hand holding his sword, Pux grabbed his crossbow from his back and shot a single bolt at his opponent. Then with his other hand he slashed at the crow, sending it hurtling into another Fallen’s gull.

Sending Bo-bo into a vertical dive, Pux grabbed onto the tail of a finch that was heading in the opposite direction. Bo-bo continued his descent as Pux climbed onto the finch’s back and threw off its rider, watching him fall into the maelstrom below. Pux followed him by jumping off the bird. As he fell he clipped many birds’ wings with skilful slashes of his blade.

Mere feet from the ground he was scooped up by Bo-bo and they soon had regained their former altitude. They continued to rise until they broke from the melee into the sky beyond. Pux observed the battle from above and sighed as he watched a group of Fallen fly in perfect formation, defeating any Guardian they came into contact with.

Pux removed a bag from his rucksack and examined its contents. Mini boom-balls, so small that Pux could hold half-a-dozen in each hand. Liam had had no spare powder but upon learning its contents, Pux had been able to create a similar mix from plants and minerals around the forest. The formula was not as potent but it should do the job. Following the Fallen from above he lit the explosives as quickly as he could then let them drop. For a second it looked like they might miss and destroy anything unlucky enough to be below him but to his relief they rained down upon the crows. A series of very small bangs followed then charred birds fell from the sky. Most looked to be stunned rather than dead.

Pux’s victory was short-lived as a huge hawk darted from the clouds. The Fallen atop of it was a black haired Yuxova woman with a barbed whip flowing beside her. Pux only had a split second’s notice to try and dodge the attack. Bo-bo swerved to avoid the talons but was not quick enough. Rather than grabbing Pux and Bo-bo like the attacker intended, the hawk clipped Bo-bo’s wing, causing the small bird to spiral down to earth.

The woman made to follow but was blocked by hundreds of small birds as they flew like one entity across the battle. By the time they had passed, Pux and his bird were nowhere in sight.

The ground was closing in on them far too fast for Pux’s liking. Bo-bo had lost consciousness and made no attempt to avoid the forest floor. Desperately Pux slapped his blade into the bird’s side causing the bird to twitch. The pain brought consciousness back but it was too late.

They hit the ground with a thud and crack. Light filtered through Pux’s eyes. With a groan and a large headache he rose to his feet. He looked over to Bo-bo. The bird’s feathers were ruffled and its left leg looked broken. Comforting the bird by stroking its head, Pux looked at the carnage around him. A large black mass moving down a nearby hill drew his attention from the sky.

It was a spider swarm. Vicious forest arachnids rode by tough looking Fallen. Red war paint dashed their faces and armour and jagged blades waved around in vice like hands. They were heading straight for Pux.

“Damn!” shouted Pux as the spiders closed in. Using all of his strength he threw the bird onto his back and began to run. It was no use though; Bo-bo was too heavy.

A sharp whistle pierced the air. Pux dropped Bo-bo and drew his sword. He whistled again and waited as the sea of death sped towards them. The spiders were feet away now. Pux could make out their beady eyes and blade like fangs. Sharp screeches shattered the air as the spiders howled at the prospect of blood.

Pux stepped aside as a lizard leapt from a tree and landed where he had been standing. It was three times larger than Bo-bo, had gore red skin and black lines that were scattered around its body.

“Took your time,” snapped Pux as he hauled Bo-bo onto the lizard’s back. The lizard made an apologetic sound as it eyed the coming assault. Pux climbed up and sat in front of the bird.

“Hold on tight my feathered friend,” Pux roared as he gave the lizard a tap. In a show of power the lizard’s muscles rippled then it shot off towards the enemy. Bo-bo squawked in displeasure as he held on for dear life with his wings, feet and beak.

The spider riders did not seem the slightest bit fazed at the counter attack. If anything they were more enthusiastic now that their prey was going to put up a fight. It was suicide. The chance of survival was one in a million. Even a captain could not face a full spider battalion. Even so Pux had a greater chance of survival charging them than waiting for them to rip him limb from limb.

The lizard reached full speed just as the spiders were in attack range. With a mighty leap the lizard flew over the front line and landed several feet into the spiders’ ranks, crushing an unlucky warrior and his mount under its bulk, all without missing a step.

Spears lunged from all directions, most breaking as they hit the lizard’s armour like scales, but some hit flesh. As Pux rode through the maelstrom of eight legged tanks at lightning speed he spotted what he was looking for. Beyond the spiders was a huge twisted tree. On closer inspection Pux could see it was actually three trees, grown together to form one spiralling trunk. Its golden leaves shone out like a beacon, guiding Pux towards it. The Tree of Ages.

A barbed sword caught Pux on the thigh, bringing him from his reverence. He hacked to his side, severing a hairy leg from a spider’s torso.

“Full speed ahead,” Pux called to the lizard. Making a sharp left turn they headed straight for the great tree, ploughing through any spiders that got in their way. The spider riders continued to throw themselves towards Pux. For every ten attacks that failed, one managed to inflict damage. The lizard began to slow as blood dripped from several small cuts that crisscrossed its body.

One arachnid with stilt-like legs vaulted into the air to land on the lizard’s back and kill Pux directly. As the spider flew through the air, Pux drew his crossbow and fired. The bolt struck the bug in the eye, causing it to flail in pain. With its balance off it missed the lizard altogether, instead cannoning into one of its comrades.

Pux was through most of the spiders now. He had a horde on his tail but as long as he made it to the Tree of Ages, that did not matter. The battle around him was merely a distraction. The real fight was going on deep inside the ancient plant’s halls. That was the fight Pux was needed in.

A screech unlike anything any mortal should ever hear pulsed through Pux’s soul causing the lizard and Bo-bo to flinch. With all of his senses on full alert Pux looked to his right, knowing what he would see.

Standing amidst the chaos was a Yuxova almost twice the size of Pux. He wore no shirt and he had no hair other than a short ponytail that billowed in the wind. On his right shoulder sat a plain iron shoulder guard held onto him by a strap that ran across his chest and back then connected to his belt. On his left hand he wore a gauntlet.

Pux grinned with relief. It was the Silent Captain. A mute, with an unknown name and calm demeanour yet deadly skills in combat. Strength wise, he was the top captain. He killed without a word or a hint of emotion.

Below the Silent Captain stood his mount, a huge tarantula with talon-like fangs, eight bloodshot eyes and a spiked exoskeleton. Ironically it was the loudest, most vicious creature in the forest. More spiders carrying Guardians scurried behind him.

Releasing an otherworldly scream the tarantula shot forwards. Its rider raised his flail and directed the mount towards the oncoming tide of arachnids. Spider met spider in a clash of legs and venom. Pux raced by, offering the mute captain a salute as they passed each other.

A shadow blacked out the sun. Pux glanced up and cursed. A jumping spider bounded through the air above, spiked armour strapped to its stomach. It landed where Pux’s lizard had been a moment before and was instantly back in the air for a second attempt at the captain’s life. Pux fired his crossbow but unlike the last jumper, his bolt pinged harmlessly against armour.

It landed ahead of the lizard and spun around to face Pux, pouncing within the same breath. Pux swerved the lizard and the spider rammed into the lizard’s side instead. The Fallen did not hesitate, swinging his morning-star into the reptile’s scaled leg. The lizard reeled up and flipped as it collapsed to the ground.

Pux parried a blow as the lizard shakily rose to its feet. He fired a shot at the spider’s face. It struck but only caused a shallow wound that hardly made the arachnid falter. The spider lunged forwards with its fangs bared.

At the last second the lizard sprang into the air, avoiding the attack and landing on a thin tree. The Fallen motioned for his mount to follow and it too sprang up to join Pux. The spider horde swarmed towards the tree, covering it like tar.

With all the speed he could muster, the reptile raced along a branch, the spider riders in close pursuit. Vaulting from branch to branch, Pux suffered an assault of twigs and thorns. His Fallen opponent rode along Pux’s side and a vicious melee began. The grey skinned Yuxova must have been the equivalent of a captain with how hard he pressed Pux. He hissed and bayed with the same venom as his eight-legged mount.

At breakneck speed they shot through the leaves exchanging a barrage of attacks. Stray birds swooped through the skies, occasionally skirmishing with the crawling sea below them, the bigger  birds plucking up the spiders to swallow whole.

Searing pain lanced through Pux’s arm as the ball of the Fallen’s morning-star struck his shoulder. With an agonising crack Pux felt the bone shatter. Losing some of his control the lizard swayed to the left and almost toppled from the branch. Pux quickly adjusted their direction as he tried to avoid another strike aimed at his head.

They were on the last branch. Pux could see the entrance clearly now. It was not big enough to fit the lizard through or even Bo-bo. Only a Yuxova could enter.

The lizard dived off of the very tip of the branch. Pux dove off the reptile and landed with a roll through the open door. At the last second the lizard extended its arms and revealed it had thin wing like webbing on its joints. They caught the wind and it and Bo-bo glided up, around the tree then were lost to sight in the forest.

The spiders did not have any such tricks. The Fallen captain and a few of the wiser riders skidded to a halt before jumping. The rest leapt towards the door. Those that did not miss the platform crashed into the tree’s trunk. Those nearest to the entrance tried in vain to squeeze through or reach Pux until Guardians forced them back into the battle.

As the riders began to dismount and charge towards the opening, Pux quickly heaved the thick door closed and locked it with the only suitable thing he had: his sword. It would not hold them forever but it would have to do.

Previous – Chapter 39. Through the Mines.

Next – Chapter 41. Onlasarian Pride.

After an hour they arrived at the mine entrance and saw it was guarded by a large Forukk with three horns. Billy was about to shoot it with his bow when Zak walked up to it. Before it had a chance to do anything but laugh at the puny human before it, its body was cleaved in two by Zak’s great axe. 

No other Forukks seemed to be around so they continued into the dark earth. The tunnel was wide but not very tall. The walls were rough rock that still bore the marks of pickaxes. The further they headed forwards the smaller the light behind them became. As Zak led them around a corner the light vanished. Liam preferred the dark but the others opted for a light source. Billy went to light a lantern when Zak stopped him.

“I came prepared for dark places.” He mumbled a few unintelligible words and nothing seemed to happen. He then snapped his fingers and a radiant light issued forth from his axe. It died down to a level that did not blind the eye but still lit up the area around them.

“It’s my new idea,” he stated happily. “It’s called a snapper. When I snap my fingers it lights up. I originally wanted a clapper but I found I couldn’t clap while holding the axe.”

The mine shafts were more like a labyrinth than a former place of work. Tunnels headed this way and that, some were a mere dozen yards long, others stretched for several miles. None in the group knew the tunnels at all, they just knew to head south west. Many times they hit dead ends and had to retrace their steps to find a new path.

Progress was slow, the sound of their footsteps echoed terribly and all talking had ended. No matter how quietly they moved the echoes always sounded unnaturally loud.

Zak motioned with his hand and the group halted. Echoed footsteps continued briefly after all feet had stilled.

“We’re being followed.”

“Maybe it’s that assassin that came after me,” said Dawn.

“I doubt it,” replied Billy. “An assassin would mask his steps better than that. I’d guess it’s a Forukk.”

From behind them came an angered howl that resonated throughout every tunnel. It was impossible to tell how near it was to them but they all guessed it was close. Seconds later, answering calls bellowed in the distance, merging together to form one deep and hellish noise.

“I think it’s time to run,” said Billy as a large shadow charged around the corner behind them. A black shafted bolt skewered the wall behind him as the last word left his lips.

Another bolt narrowly missed Trey as he ducked into a bend to his right. No sooner had he turned the corner he crashed into a large, growling object. In the faint glow of Zak’s axe, Trey gazed upon a Forukk of titanic proportions. Its bulk blocked the whole tunnel and its fists were like giant blocks of concrete with a single jagged claw protruding from the centre of each.

A split second before the creature’s fist impacted with Trey’s chest, he managed to manoeuvre his sword to defend himself. It was completely ineffective. A sickening crack echoed around the mines and Trey’s feet left the ground as his body flew backward then hit a wall. He slumped to the ground.

Zak ran at the giant Forukk and embedded his axe in the things chest. It made a series of noises that were its twisted version of a laugh. It swung its arm at Zak and he leapt backwards, leaving his axe in its chest.

Billy dodged another bolt and fired an arrow of his own. It tore into the first Forukk’s skull, killing it instantly. His moment of pride was beaten down when three more appeared in his view.

“We have to go!” he shouted.

“What about Trey?” answered Dawn as she knelt by the boy’s unconscious body.

“What about my axe?” shouted Zak in agitation as he jumped over a low swing by his opponent.

“You and Liam will have to carry him,” Billy stated to the girl. “Zak, unless you want to stay and fight them all for the axe, get over here and help me guard those three while we escape.”

“Screw that! I want my axe!” replied Zak as he leapt back, drew both his swords then dived forward again in one swift motion.

Billy was about to argue when four bolts sped past him, one glancing across his left arm. Another Forukk had joined them, he noted with displeasure as he clenched his teeth against the sharp pain.

“Go!” he commanded, firing at the Forukks, narrowly missing one. The injury was throwing off his aim.

All of the group except for Zak ran through the tunnels and away from the Forukks. Without Zak’s axe there was no light but a hastily lit candle in Liam’s hand.

Meanwhile Zak was still attempting to recover his weapon while trying to survive. As well as the giant Forukk, the smaller creatures had turned their attention onto the boy. All but one. The other followed in the group’s footsteps towards easier prey.

“Gimme back my axe, dammit!” shouted Zak as he simultaneously avoided three bolts and a lunge from the giant. He did not foresee the huge Forukk head butting him so when their foreheads met, Zak was sent hurtling backwards into a wall causing the tunnel to shake and dust to fall from the ceiling.

Slowly he picked himself up, swept away the dust from his clothes and shook his head in agitation. “Screw this!” he roared as he pulled a stolen boom-ball from his rucksack.

A startled, un-Forukk like squeak escaped the lesser Forukks snouts. The greater Forukk laughed, then with startling speed for such bulk, charged down the tunnel towards the boy. The other Forukks had all begun to flee.

Zak lit the boom-ball with a spark of Nimula, held it in one hand and ran to meet the Forukk. When they were within range of each other, the Forukk punched towards Zak, its fist almost the same size as the boy while Zak punched out with the hand holding the explosive. The walls shook and fire shot through the passageways. As the smoke spread out over the ceiling the centre of the carnage became visible. There were two bodies sprawled out on the floor. The Forukk, or what was left of it, lay at one end of the shaft and Zak lay at the other.

The support beams strained perilously as dust rained down upon the two bodies. The dust that fell around the Forukk was engulfed in thick, tar like blood while that which landed upon Zak fizzled out of existence.

The boy’s body glowed with a shimmering purple light that covered every inch of him. Beneath it, Zak was unharmed. He pulled himself to his feet using a fallen support beam and looked around him. The purple shield began to crackle and flicker before dying out completely.

Panting, he sighted his axe embedded into a nearby wall. Striding over to it he pulled it out with ease, despite the fact it was a good few inches into the stone. After hearing an agonized groan from above him, Zak slowly looked up. The roof was seconds away from collapsing onto him.

“Ah.”

Previous – Chapter 38. Trouble in the Trees.

Next – Chapter 40. The Yuxova.

Wood and metal littered the sand around the five teenagers. They picked their way through the debris, kicking aside scrap and skirting around anything too big to step over. Their destination was the monstrous form of shapeless carnage that had recently been two sand fortresses. Now they formed one tangled wreckage.

The third ship had turned and was making a hasty retreat back the way it had come from, leaving the small group the only ones in sight still standing. Several bodies were dotted around, some dead but many not. Trey ignored the groans and screams as best as he could. Zak strolled through the mayhem, admiring the destruction like a personal achievement.

“Over here,” Dawn called from around the corner of the crashed ships. “We might be able to salvage something.”

The boys jogged over to her. She stood before a wide hole in one hull that was filled with an assortment of twisted silhouettes. Billy grabbed a lantern from a nearby pile and relit it before entering the ship. The faint light revealed a cluster of sand speeders and carriers that had been smashed together and wedged into one corner of the half collapsed hanger.

Dawn circled the pile as best as she could and inspected the ships for anything that could be used. Under her direction, Zak carried the bigger bits of scrap away while Trey and Liam managed the smaller rubbish. Billy hung the lamp from a jutting out pipe and helped to dig through the wood.

It took the better part of an hour but eventually they had freed a battered carrier from the wreckage and had managed to push it out onto the sand. That had even strained Zak but once it was outside they were able to repair what they could until the last rays of the sun began to fade.

“Will it work?” asked Trey. They’d replaced one broken wheel and retied several strings but it still looked like a miracle that it remained standing under its own weight.

Dawn ran a hand through her hair and clicked her tongue thoughtfully. Her other hand did not stray from its place over the split skin in her throat where she kept a cloth over the wound. “If we can get it moving then it should make it to the forest. That is as long as we don’t push it in any way, shape or form. A steady speed with minimal turning should be fine.”

“It will have to do,” shrugged Trey. “We’ve already lost too much time.”

They climbed into the carrier and after several attempts, Dawn and Liam managed to get the carrier to lurch into motion. It moved at a snail’s pace compared to the carrier they had travelled in previously but they were moving toward Miankkuth once again and Trey was strangely grateful for that.

Liam took the first shift at the helm while the others took some well needed sleep. When daylight returned, Dawn took over and Liam collapsed into a corner to get some rest of his own. Most of the day passed in utter silence. Trey tried playing more of his ‘rock’ music but it did not improve the reflective mood that had descended upon the carrier.

It was not until dusk came around once more that they sighted the first signs of green upon the horizon. The sand gradually gave way to grass and trees and the carrier had to be stopped at the edge of the desert. To the left were the wide cliffs that Trey Billy and Zak had leapt from after their flight from Pastrino. Luckily for them, the cliffs petered out about two miles further up, leaving the land here relatively flat and easy to traverse. They climbed from the vessel with everything they could carry and cautiously entered the forest

They were in a different section of the forest than where they had came from but it mattered little as Billy and Trey had explored much of the forest during childhood adventures. The two directed the others west until they recognised their surroundings.

For an hour they walked in the darkness of the night, guided only by the waxy light of the moon. Deciding it best to camp for the night, Trey led them through closely packed trees to a good place to rest. The distant sound of roaring water drifted on the wind. As they continued the sound became greater and the air became damper. Up ahead a waterfall came into view. It ran down a cliff, into a small pond which led to a gentle stream.

Trey walked up to the waterfall and revealed that the cliff was hollow behind it. Hidden from view by the raging water was a roomy cave. Once inside the water doubled in volume as the cave echoed the noise.

“There’s plenty of room and we can talk as loudly as we want as the sound is covered up by the waterfall,” Trey announced, his voice just audible over the incessant water.

The boys tried to get comfy and without further conversation they attempted to find sleep. The roar of the waterfall was the only thing that they could hear as they slowly drifted off into troubled dreams. Sleep without nightmares seemed a distant memory.

Dawn did not feel like sleeping as she had so much on her mind. She crept out of the cave and gazed into the shimmering water of the pond. She stood motionless, tracing the raw cut across the left side of her throat, lost in thought for several minutes until a sigh at her side snapped her back to reality.

Liam stood at her side staring at his flickering reflection on the water’s surface. Dawn hadn’t even noticed him approach. He too seemed to have something on his mind that he couldn’t voice.

“I forgive you,” said Dawn softly.

Liam turned towards her. “What’s to forgive?”

“I know you have problems but that’s no excuse to be so rude and cold hearted. An apology, or at least understanding isn’t that much to ask for,” she snapped angrily.

“You know nothing,” stated the young man. “You grew up as a pampered princess. You were given everything you could ever want and had the love and respect of everyone in your tribe. I have nothing.”

“You’re the commander’s brother. You live in a big house and have plenty of money. What is there to be depressed about?” Dawn asked testily. Because of her departure she too now had nothing.

Liam knelt, letting his black nailed hand dip into the cold water. His reflection rippled, becoming distorted and unrecognisable. “My father was the commander before my brother and my mother was the greatest healer the city had ever known. Both were extremely talented and well respected. Then my brother was born and he showed the makings of being as great as his parents. My parents tried for many years to have a second child and fifteen years after Mike was born, my mother became pregnant again.”

“There were complications at my birth and no one could stop my mother from dying. My father was consumed by grief and eventually took his own life. I was blamed for their deaths. I tried to earn the respect of the city but no matter how hard I tried I was useless at everything. People just hated me more and I had no place to fit in.  I have been alone all of my life. Only Mike cares for me and as commander he is always busy.” He finished his story with a sad smile.

“At least you can make your own way through life. My life has been planned out like every other Heptalli royal blood in history. Born and trained as a Princess, learning the skills for the future. When my Grandmother, the Elder, dies, my mother will become the new Elder and I will be forced to become the Matriarch of the tribe. I then live to have a single daughter as is written in my blood. Then I become the Elder while my daughter becomes the leader, then I die. The cycle will never end,” she sighed. “It is my destiny.”

“Destiny is not written,” replied Liam. “Life is sand in the fingers of time. A few grains will always fall loose and land where the hand does not want it. Whatever, I’m heading off to bed. Night.”

He left Dawn standing alone, feeling she now knew Liam as a person, not just a face. Still, she could not help feel that his words sounded far too close to what Mellow had been preaching.

* * *

As the morning came they decided to use their last moment of peace well. Knowing full well that later that day they would see the remains of Pastrino, they all decided to prepare as best as they could.

“While we’re here you lot can head downstream and wash. You stink!” informed Dawn briskly.

“What’s wrong with bathing here?” asked Billy.

“I’m here,” replied Dawn. “I need to wash as well. If you dare to even think of peeping you will not leave here alive. You will find you would rather have the Abyss Sprite of Torture stood before you than me. Got it?” she said with a look in her eyes and a tone in her voice that said she really meant it too. Women had an uncanny talent for turning their eyes into poisoned daggers.

“Yes Miss,” said Trey, Billy and Zak together with the same fear in their words. Liam just turned and followed the stream away from the camp. The others quickly followed. After about five minutes they found a suitable place to wash and decided to relax for the last time before they confronted the Forukks again. Pux left on his own to hunt for food, his knowledge of the forest and its creatures far greater than any of the others.

***

Things seemed peaceful but little did anyone realise that an evil presence had been tracking them through the forest and even now kept its eyes on the current weakest member of the group, all by herself and with no weapons. Assassinating children was too easy for such a greatly talented killer, but orders were orders. Shuriken sat ready between skilled fingers. The girl suspected nothing. The assassin’s movement stopped as a shout erupted from nearby.

“Hey Dawn, you done yet?”

Dawn sighed after just getting relaxed then shouted back, “Just give me a minute.”

It was strike now or lose the chance, thought the assassin. It threw one of the throwing stars and watched it fly towards the girl’s jugular. Before it reached its target a bird swooped by and caught it. Another three shuriken were thrown but three more birds halted their journey. By this time Dawn had gotten out of the pond, dried off and was just finishing tying her robes securely.

This was the assassin’s last chance at an easy target. Six shuriken left the tree and sped towards the girl. Only one bird came this time but it was larger than the others, some kind of eagle. With an almighty beat of its wings the wind knocked the throwing stars off course. The boys came stamping through the trees and into view. The assassin knew that the chance had been missed and quietly left to avoid detection while pondering the birds.

***

Pux was just returning with a large squirrel slung over his shoulder when from out of the sky a wide-winged eagle swooped down and landed on Billy’s head. From its back jumped a battered looking Yuxova that hopped down upon Billy’s shoulder then onto a low tree branch. Pux joined him and bowed his head. The new Yuxova returned the bow but a mere fraction of what Pux had.

“Glad to see you, Captain,” said the injured warrior. “Things have gone to the Abyss since you left.” He was taller than Pux by a few hairs and had a more muscular build. Leather armour covered his fine clothes and short dark hair topped his head. A broad, well trimmed beard hung from a chiseled chin.

“What do you mean, Captain Kenux?” asked Pux, fearing the answer. Whatever could injure Captain Kenux was something to worry about.

The other Yuxova sneered and spat with angry disgust. “Forukks have been felling trees and burning patches of forest since they reared their ugly faces. We’d been fighting them for days when our flanks were hit by a new force from the north.”

Pux frowned. “North? The Ghibok have no reason to fight us.”

“Not Ghibok,” Kenux all but hissed. “The Fallen have returned.”

“What! I thought they were just a legend.”

“Well this legend is destroying our army. They are already pressing upon the Tree of Ages. First Forukks, then the Fallen. Now to top it off we have an assassin lurking around. If my men and I had turned up a moment later then your human girl would be a pincushion right now.”

Dawn looked shocked at hearing someone had tried to kill her. The boys scanned the trees darkly, hands on their weapons.

Pux turned to Trey. “I must aid my own people; I fear I must leave you now.”

“We understand,” Trey said.

“Farewell, Trey, Zak. Stay safe Miss Dawn. Find happiness Liam,” said Pux. He then turned to Billy. “Bill, you have a bird on your head.”

“Shut up!” growled Billy.

Both Yuxova Captains mounted, Kenux onto the eagle, Pux onto Bo-bo and made ready to leave. The birds took to the air and circled the group a few times as they gained altitude.

The teens cleared the camp and set off southwest through the forest. Any movement or sound caused fear only to reveal small forest animals or branches moving in the wind. Around dusk the end of the trees was in sight and open fields stood before them. Beyond them was a ruined city that bore some resemblances with what Trey, Zak and Billy had once called home.

Fine mist pooled around the buildings’ remnants giving them a ghostlike quality. All seemed still within the city’s walls. The only sign of life was the collection of carrion birds that had swarmed the ruins. Craters had cleared numerous areas of buildings while fire had burned up anything wooden or material. The white walls were plagued with black patches like a cancer. Far off at the city’s centre, Trey could make out the bell tower and beside it, his home. Both looked untouched by the carnage to his relief.

“If only Pux was still here, he could scout out the city and tell us if it’s guarded,” sighed Dawn.

“It is guarded,” stated Trey. “If we try to go through the city we’ll have a fight on our hands.”

“The area around the city will be guarded for miles. To get around them could take days,” said Liam.

“I have an idea,” said Trey quietly, then paused in thought. “The city got its raw iron from mines beneath it and its surrounding area. Several severe accidents occurred and the mines were closed. This was before we were even born.”

“I know what you’re talking about but the mine only has one entrance. We’d only reach a dead end,” muttered Billy.

Zak shook his head. “No. It has a second exit. Before the last accident happened, the miners dug too far and breached the cliffs that separate us from Miankkuth. The last ‘accident’ was actually a cover-up just to close the mine and block the hole. Out of the fifty miners down there, only seven returned from the cover-up. My granddad was one of them,” Zak informed them. “We could find the blocked exit then just unblock it,” he added with a smile as he swung his axe.

“It can’t be any worse than marching through the city,” said Dawn.

“Are we decided?” Trey asked. When everyone confirmed he continued. “Time to head underground then,” he said as he started to head north.

Previous – Chapter 37. Loyalty.

Next – Chapter 39. Through the Mines.

As Nakai sprinted through the city things did not look good. The enemy siege weapons had taken their toll and he could see combat taking place on every battlement. Things were only going to get worse. Any men that he passed he sent forward to the gate to help his lieutenant.

The familiar streets that he had known all of his life looked so different now. As the castle came into view despair hit the commander. He could see flames through some of the castle’s windows. It did not look like it had been hit by any projectiles and surely no barbarians could have gotten inside yet.

He increased his pace and hurried towards the mountain fortress. Confusion struck him when he saw the doors were still firmly shut. He bounded up the steps leading to the door and knew that they were locked. He knocked, shouting his name, rank and business and that he must be let in. No answer came.

“Damn it,” he muttered. He could get in by blowing the door down with boom-balls then he could stop the traitor and any other threats within the castle but then the stronghold would be left open to enemies, or he could keep the door shut and stop the barbarians getting in but let the castle fall by some internal threat. When he thought about it the answer seemed obvious.

The doors were reduced to a pile of splinters as he threw a boomball at them. A jagged hole, large enough for Nakai to easily clamber through had been smashed into the once sturdy wood. Inside the castle was deathly silent.

There were no guards in sight; nobody was in view, dead or alive. Nakai did not encounter anyone on his journey to the audience chamber where the Lord should be. He eased open the chamber’s door and cautiously entered.

A sigh of relief passed his lips. Lord Baranox was seated on his throne just as he should be. His personal assistant, Miss Falati stood faithfully by his side.

“My Lord, where are all the guards and why do parts of the castle burn?” asked Nakai, doing all he could to keep his voice calm.

“The guards are down with the civilians. As for the fires, we had some small trouble. It is over now,” Baranox replied. “How goes the battle?”

“Not well. Parts of the city were destroyed by the siege weapons and the barbarians are slowly winning the fights for the battlements.” Nakai paused, thinking how to phrase his next few words. “They also enter by the main entrance to the city but the doors weren’t broken, nor were they opened from down there. They must have been opened by the device in the castle…which would mean there is a traitor among us.”

“Really?” said Lord Baranox in a strange tone. His eyes seemed to have a dull sheen to them.

“My Lord?” said Nakai in an uncertain voice.

A smile formed upon the Lord’s face, not a pleasant one, not even a mocking one, Nakai could not find words to describe it. Before Nakai had time to contemplate the strange behaviour he felt a

sharp pain in his stomach. He looked down and saw a knife embedded into his gut, held by the lord that Nakai had served his entire life.

Lord Baranox removed the knife and let it clatter onto the ground. He sat back in his throne and had a sip of wine. “We were always going to lose this battle. If it wasn’t for me every last citizen of Onlasar would have been butchered. I made a deal with the barbarian, Serka, that if I opened the gates then he would let me and a few others live, that way the blood of Onlasar would live on even after the city was destroyed. Can’t you see my logic?”

Nakai spat on the lord’s shoes and began to get to his feet. He had had many worse wounds than a stab from a dagger. After fighting barbarians for a decade, a knife wound was nothing. He would still live and he could still fight. Lord Baranox seemed to show no fear that Nakai was not dying, rather he seemed amused.

Pain stormed through Nakai’s body. He collapsed to the floor. His veins felt like fire coursed through them. Burning needles stabbed at every inch of his skin and his limbs felt like lead. The traitor had used poison on the blade.

“Soon the world will be enveloped in a wave of darkness and all light will be extinguished. Better to hide light in a cloak of black rather than let it die. Don’t you agree with me, Commander?”

Nakai could not hear anything his traitorous lord was saying. The only thing in the world for him at the moment was pain. His mind felt like it was being forced from his body. A small voice in his head kept telling him that if he stopped resisting the pain would disappear. Nakai managed a bitter laugh. He had been close to death too many times to listen to that voice. This was an occasion where pain was better than the void.

Laughing seemed to give him a small measure of strength. His mind fought its way back into control. He was not about to live through several battles just to die from something he could not fight. Life was often cruel in that kind of way.

“If I’m going to die then I’m going to do it fighting,” growled Nakai. It was the hardest fight in his life just to stand. Every moment felt like his last but against the odds he managed to pull himself to his feet, leaning on his sword like a walking stick, face to face with his former lord.

Lord Baranox could not believe his eyes as he watched the commander struggle to his feet. The sheer willpower needed to accomplish that was phenomenal. Baranox rose from his throne and placed his hand on his sword’s pommel, unsure what to expect.

“How about a duel to settle this argument on the fate of the city,” Nakai managed, turning a cough into a cocky chuckle with difficulty.

Under normal circumstances, Baranox would never have accepted as Nakai far outmatched him, but with the commander barely able to stand, he figured he had a very good chance at victory. “A duel it is then.” His slender sword slid from its elegant sheath with slow purpose.

Both men’s swords clashed together. The weight of the blade seemed almost too much for Nakai. He parried a blow at the last second then lunged at his opponent’s chest. It was easily blocked and countered. He cursed as he narrowly dodged a blow aimed at his head. Sweat ran down his face, blurring his vision. His every movement felt slow as though he was trying to fight under water.

Baranox aimed a blow at Nakai’s head that was sluggishly dodged, then he swung for his chest which was parried. Blow after blow struck Nakai’s blade until it escaped his grip and flew across the room.

The Commander collapsed to the floor, the strain of the fight had been too much for him. Baranox knew he had won. He leered down at the defeated man and placed the tip of his sword against his neck.

“How the mighty fall,” mocked Baranox.

Before he could register what happened next the former lord had Nakai’s boot in his groin. Using his last reserves of energy the commander jumped to his feet, punched Baranox in the nose then grabbed his sword arm, twisting it until it broke, taking his sword in the process.

Instinct took over. Nakai’s body reacted without conscious thought. Baranox was at his mercy yet his arms still swung the sword into his chest. He watched as the former lord’s body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around him. Nakai himself dropped to the ground as the adrenaline began to drain away and the pain of the poison flooded his senses.

Miss Falati raced over to her Lord’s side with a cry, tears falling from her eyes. She dropped to her knees and embraced his body.

“My Lord. Don’t die! Please don’t leave me,” she sobbed. Baranox was still breathing. He opened his eyes and grasped his assistant’s hand.

An idea struck Nakai. He pulled a small combat knife from a sheath on his arm and crawled over to the woman and Baranox. He roughly pushed her to the side then grabbed hold of the injured man, putting the knife blade against his throat. He heard the woman take a sharp intake of air into her lungs.

“This man deserves death for the crimes he has committed against this great city. I might be willing to spare his life, providing you bring me the antidote to this damn poison.”

Miss Falati considered this for a moment. It looked like she might grab one of the swords and charge at him for hurting her Lord but she knew that Nakai would slit Baranox’s throat at a moment’s notice.

“Fine!” she snapped in defeat. “I will bring you the antidote.”

“If it’s not here in five minutes I will die but I’ll be taking this traitor with me. Do you understand?”

The woman nodded her head and ran out of the chamber. Nakai felt like sleeping despite the immense pain he was in but he knew he had to wait a little while longer. Baranox’s unconscious body was still bleeding, causing the mosaic floor to become slippery.

Each minute seemed an eternity to the commander. Every breath was a trip through the Abyss. He knew he could only stay alive for another minute at max. He tightened his grip on the knife, pushing it

more onto the traitor’s neck, drawing small beads of blood.

Just as Nakai prepared to deliver the deathblow, the door slammed open and hurrying feet clattered across the room. The assistant came into his view holding a vial of purple liquid. She handed it to him then stepped back.

“What have I got to lose,” he muttered to himself as he downed the substance. At first nothing changed. He had an aftertaste of wax but little else.

Pain unlike anything else he had ever felt rushed through his body causing the knife to grind deeper into Baranox’s throat. His assistant screamed at this. Slowly the pain ebbed away leaving only numbness in his limbs, a lack of strength and the pain he would expect from the fighting he had been doing. He dropped the knife onto the floor and rolled away from Baranox.

Miss Falati rushed to her lord’s side and checked his pulse. She sighed a breath of relief when she found it then began to lovingly clean his wounds.

“If we somehow survive this battle you will not be executed, merely exiled. You can go where you wish, just never show your faces here again,” growled Nakai as he stood and limped towards his sword.

He could have laid down and slept where he was the way he felt but there was still an invading army that needed to be crushed. He left the traitors and made his way up to the supply room of the castle. There he grabbed some energy pills and some bandages. Within a few moments he was ready to re-enter the battle.

Previous – Chapter 36. Blood in the Sand.

Chapter 38. Trouble in the Trees.

“Are you scared?” Mellow whispered into Dawn’s ear. She tried to speak but her voice wouldn’t work. Instead she shook her head and tried to give the man a defiant glare.

“So much pride. What is it worth though? How far can that pride be pulled before you shatter and become a snivelling beast?” as he spoke, Mellow ran a hand through her fire red hair. She tried but could not contain a sudden shiver. He smelled of death, not putrid like the Forukks but dry and old like an ancient tomb where hundreds had been buried.

“Get away from me!” she tried to yell but her voice was little more than a squeak. She pushed him away drawing only an amused laugh from the man. Dawn turned to run only to be whipped back when Mellow grabbed at her hair and yanked her to his side.

“I have an idea,” Mellow began. His voice took on an oily tone, slick and smooth but somehow greasy and vile. “I have two of your friends in a pit of corpses whose lives they have won but not their freedom. Just behind us is another friend who has been badly beaten and will continue to be beaten until he dies a slow painful death and somewhere on this ship is a fourth who has caused us damage. He will be caught and the penalty for damaging a sand fortress is to be boiled alive. My offer to you is simple. You can leave your friends here to their fate and have your life and freedom, or, you can sacrifice yourself for their freedom. What will it be?”

Dawn struggled to break free despite knowing it was a futile gesture. Mellow started to hum to the tune of an old children’s rhyme that she could no longer remember the words to. The crowd had grown quiet, eager to hear every word and whimper.

This was her chance to flee, to see the world without chains. Where would she go though? The Heptalli would never take her back after what she had done and even if they were to then it would be to a life of stricter rules than ever before. Pastrino was destroyed, Onlasar was under siege and all the while the shadow of Lanstiro loomed over all. Between Forukks, bandits and barbarians, what chance did she have in the wild?

She felt a sudden sickening lurch in her stomach. All she had thought of was herself, never considering Trey, Billy, Zak and Liam. She had been about to abandon her friends to torment and death without a single thought. Self loathing flooded through her.

Trey, Billy and Zak had been so kind to her. They had pulled her out from her cage, made her laugh and feel like a girl instead of a future queen. They had a noble purpose, what did she have? Her own selfish desires.

Mellow looked down at her, still humming the tune. Dawn vaguely remembered her mother singing the rhyme at night to help her to sleep as a young child.

“I have decided,” she stated with queenly dignity. She looked Mellow straight in his cold blue eyes. “Release them.”

“Are you sure?” Mellow asked, his eyebrow raised. “Death is not a pleasant experience.”

“Yes. I owe them so much. They deserve to live, or at the least to die doing what they believe in. What is my life compared to the dreams of saving those that they love?” Dawn spoke softly, her eyes closed.

Mellow took her hand and moved her the few steps to the dead centre of the Bloodground. “How touching. Is it pride that stops you from running?” he asked as they walked.

Dawn shook her head slowly. Unbidden, she found that a faint smile graced her lips. “Pride is just another emotion. It can be destructive, but it can also keep you on the right path when an easier path seems preferable. If pride ensures that I do what is required of me, then I will die a proud woman.”

“Such a noble decision. You are a true ruler of the sands. Kneel,” ordered Mellow. His voice was not hard though. It was almost soothing. Dawn obeyed, lowering herself onto her knees with all the dignity that her years as a royal princess had taught her. She

straightened her robes out calmly, more to steady her hands than through any real need for tidiness.

Mellow took Dawn’s scimitar from one of the warriors beside him. Holding the sword in his left hand, Mellow grasped the sharpened steel with his right and cut a deep furrow into his palm. Dark blood dripped down the blade.

“Thus my blood is spilt to seal my end of the deal,” intoned Mellow without the slightest wince. “Your blood is a given. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Dawn felt cold steel against her throat. She could feel her blood pumping, the veins of her neck pulsing beneath the blade. She released her breath and braced herself for what was to come.

The sand fortress seemed to jump into the air, in an instant throwing everything into chaos. The ship swayed, swerved and shuddered until no one was left standing except for Mellow. He had a sour look upon what scraps of his face could be seen. Dawn was sprawled out before him, blood pouring from a gash in her throat.

“That is three wheels now that your friend has taken down. Any more damage and I fear that this vessel will not make it to Onlasar.” He pulled Dawn back onto her knees. Blood was spreading along her robe now, darkening the already crimson fabric. “Sorry about that. It won’t pain you for long.”

“That’s what you think!” came a roar from behind them. Zak was back on his feet, sprinting toward them with his axe back in hand. He shouted words without meaning and the wind became a raging torrent. Pointing at Dawn, the wind span around her, ripping her and the scimitar away from Mellow and tossing her over to the grate that contained Billy and Trey.

“Get them out!” he shouted just before his axe struck Mellow’s arm. Again nothing happened. That didn’t deter Zak in the slightest though. He jumped and spun, kicking the chief in the head before slamming the axe vertically down upon his skull. Neither attack seemed to hurt the man.

Zak danced back frowning. “What gives? You cut yourself so I know you can bleed. That sword is just a regular blade too so I should be able to hurt you.”

Mellow rolled his shoulders idly. “Since you got back up I’ll let you in on a secret. I can control the minerals within my blood. I can create sections of iron and other hard composites to shield myself or strengthen my attacks.”

Zak heard the metal of the grate clang and smiled. “Interesting. So what you are saying is that relentless attacks from multiple directions is all that it takes to kill you?”

“Don’t think that your friends are in any condition to help you,” Mellow snorted.

Zak barked laughter. “I have no intention of letting them in on the fun. Mass devastation is my strong point.”

The teen launched himself at Mellow. At the last moment he threw the axe and drew his katana. Lightning crackled across the twin blades that shot out, overtaking the axe in a heartbeat. Sand rushed up around Mellow, turning to glass where the lightning struck. The axe shattered the wall just as Zak flew past it with both blades flashing. Mellow swayed away only to have his kneecap kicked by an armour plated foot. He staggered, blocked a stroke with one arm then doubled over as Zak’s knee pounded into his gut.

Mellow punched at Zak, knuckles smashing into a quickly recovered axe head. Flames snaked around him and lashed out at the younger man who summoned his own to combat the threat. The man’s smile revealed white teeth. He was genuinely happy with the challenge of the fight. Zak too seemed ecstatic at the fight between life and death on the edge of a razor.

A sword was knocked clean out of Zak’s hand when Mellow grabbed his arm in an attempt to break it. Zak managed to pull his arm free but was knocked to the ground by a sweeping kick from Mellow. Zak tried to flip back to his feet only to be punched in the stomach in midair. He skidded through the sand, coming to a sudden stop when Mellow landed on his chest after a running jump. Blood spewed from the teen’s mouth.

Mellow took a few steps away, picking up Zak’s fallen axe with barely any sign of effort. He examined it as though inspecting a cheap trinket. “Nothing that you could ever achieve would come close to my strength. The power of my blood is locked into place while yours will drain away.”

“What d-do you m-mean?” choked Zak.

The axe began to spin through Mellow’s fingers with an ease that even Zak would struggle with. “Life is an energy. As we produce life it creates new energy but it is also used. Your power is weaker than mine because the power in you has become diluted but your ancestors would also be weaker than me because for power to grow within a life it needs to be placed there first like a seed. Each child than a human produces weakens them slightly. I have discovered how to cap that. None of my descendants are born with power so I will never face a decline. Very prudent, wouldn’t you agree?”

Without warning he spluttered suddenly. The axe fell from his fingers. With a startled slowness, Mellow looked down to see the tip of a blade protruding from his chest. Blood flowed freely, already pooling around his feet. He jerked, staggering away to turn to his attacker.

Dawn stood there, her neck still drenched in blood. “Don’t you understand. Strength isn’t about what blood you have. Does it take special blood to face your fears? To keep standing back up as long as you still live? To fight and grow stronger for a cause? No.”

“You would know,” smirked Mellow as he fell face first into the sand.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dawn shouted. She took a step toward him but he made no sign of moving. Instead she went to Zak’s side and helped him to his feet.

Zak groaned at first although within seconds he was walking unaided to retrieve his axe. He wiped it clean, doing the same after recovering his remaining weapons. The crowd had broken from their stupor and were beginning to rush down the tiers. Zak ignored them,

instead limping over to where Billy and Trey were laid near to the hole they had been kept in. Neither looked up as he approached.

“I don’t want to rush you guys but in about fifteen seconds we’re gonna be ripped to shreds.”

Dawn joined them, placing a comforting hand upon each of them. “Come on. You have to snap out of this. I won’t leave you here to die so help me!”

Trey turned blank eyes to her. She grabbed his hand in hers and gave him the most intense look that she could manage. “You still have promises to keep. Don’t lose your remaining honour by ignoring them.”

His eyes drifted from her amber orbs to the hand that held his. He blinked a few times and took several deep breaths. “Promises? Yes. We have to keep going, no matter what it takes. That is the path of humanity.” He had snapped into motion but his eyes and tone were still distant and cold.

Tears pricked in Dawn’s eyes. “Trey…”

“Let’s move,” he ordered, now all too aware of the charging horde of tribesmen. He grabbed Billy’s arm and pulled his friend up. Zak handed them both their weapons back with a faint, sympathetic smile.

“For Pastrino,” Trey said softly.

“For Pastrino,” Billy answered, seeming to draw strength from the words.

“This way!” Zak called, running down the closest passageway out of the Bloodgrounds. The other’s followed on his tail.

Dawn took one last look back as she ran and nearly stumbled. Mellow’s body was gone. None of the Flesh Eroders had had time to even touch the body yet. He was a strange man indeed, she grudgingly admitted before shifting all focus to their current predicament.

“Where is Liam and Pux?” asked Trey over the sound of their pounding footfalls. “I think there were three explosions below, though things were a bit fuzzy back there.”

“Finding him by chance would be a miracle,” grunted Billy. “That aside we’ve still got to stop this ship. I say move higher up while the Eroders are down below searching out Liam. If we can take the control room then this behemoth belongs to us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” nodded Trey. “Any idea how to get up there?” This met with frowns and angry looks.

“Easy,” stated Zak. “We need to go up so we just blast our way there.”

“And how would you plan to do that?” asked Billy bluntly.

“Simple,” he grinned. He pointed up at the roof directly above them. Green flames that took the form of a dragon shot from his hand and tore through the wood above like paper. Splinters and ash rained down on the teens. Level after level was punctured then searing light flooded down the hole as the magical flame arced high into the sky and soared away.

Billy gawped. “Holy Sprites above.”

Dawn remained composed, instead eying the hole skeptically. “And how do we get up there? We can’t climb it.”

Zak winked at her, lowering his arm to point at the ground.

“Dear Sprite no!” Dawn screamed. It was too late. Energy flooded out of Zak, ripping out the section of ground where the group stood and forcing it to rise as harsh light drove into the ship below them.

What started as a slow rise became a stomach curling freefall upwards. The circular section of floor rocketed skyward so fast that their surroundings were nothing more than a blur.

“Our stop,” said Zak suddenly. He hopped off the side of the platform and reached out, grabbing its edge before it shot past him. It stopped while the momentum meant that Trey, Billy and Dawn did not. It was another second before they landed in a heap. Zak heaved the platform away from the hole, his muscles straining and his face red.

Trey staggered onto solid ground. It took several seconds for the world to stop spinning. When it did he wished that it had not. They were in a room full of levers, pipes and wheels but it also contained twenty startled looking Flesh Eroders.

The man directly in front of Trey dropped dead with an arrow in his chest. Beside him Billy nocked another arrow. He looked around and saw Zak panting, hands onto his knees. The tribesmen were recovering from shock now and had drawn their weapons. Trey moved to defend Zak but Dawn beat him to it.

Billy downed men as fast as he could pull back his bowstring. Trey positioned himself close to his friend, cutting down any men who threatened to reach Billy. Men fell but soon the combat was too close pressed for the bow. Dropping it, Billy let fly a handful of small throwing knives then turned to his rapier.

One thing Trey had learned since all of this chaos started was never to look at the faces that came and went during battle. Watch the blade, the feet and eyes but never put them together to form a man. With that in mind, the death seemed strangely tolerable. The last man fell with Dawn’s scimitar lodged into his heart. Zak was now on the floor, clutching his ribs.

“Zak, what’s wrong?”

The boy did not answer straight away. Slowly he relaxed his muscles and sat cross legged. “It’s just the side effects of the Nimula. My quick recovery must be caused by Nimula or I wouldn’t be this drained. I should be fine now.”

A door slammed open. Billy aimed his bow in a heartbeat. Liam raised his arms, slowing his jog to a walk.

“The party over?” he asked, his tone completely deadpan. “I’d have been here sooner but I made a detour to recover these,” he added, holding out his halberd and ‘The Arts of Nimula’. Several rucksacks hung from his back too. Pux stood upon his shoulder and offered the group a casual salute of greeting.

“Not yet,” replied Trey. “We’ve still got to take down these ships.”

Liam took a look around, tweaking controls and checking on the gauges. “Well we are here in the control room. It looks to be just a bigger, more complex version of the carrier’s controls.” He looked through the grimy window to the sand fortress to their right. “Mass destruction in an over dramatic style. I like it.”

Zak grinned at him, his eyes glinting mischievously. “You’ll fit in yet, Liam. The controls are yours.”

It only took Liam a moment to get to grips with the controls. A few flicks of his wrist set everything to max power. Being three wheels down meant that stability and speed was compromised but it still moved well enough for what they wanted. Everything shuddered, threatening to fall apart at any moment. The ship looked ready to shake itself to pieces.

Liam spun the helm causing the sand fortress to swerve sharply to the right. By the time the second ship tried to veer away there was no time to manoeuvre.

“Shouldn’t we try and run?” pointed out Billy as the sand fortress filled their view.

“Probably,” nodded Zak. He made no move to go though.

Trey approached Liam. “Liam, Pux, either of you know the way to the main deck?”

“Yeah. I can get us out there,” answered Pux. “Not in time to avoid that though.”

Zak raised an arm. Light flared in the room, filling the air with a tangled mix of thunder and wood chips. The wall to their left exploded. Everyone else ducked, covering their faces with arms.

“There’s a door,” Zak told them innocently.

Trey and Billy stood by the ragged hole and stared out at the rolling expanse of desert. Below them was a substantial drop to the dunes. The fall would easily be fatal.

“And how do you propose we get down there, idiot,” Billy snapped.

“We jump, obviously. It’ll be fun.”

Billy looked ready to throw Zak over himself. “That is insanity. Pure suicide!”

“Yeah. The best kind of fun,” Zak beamed. “Trust me.”

Trey took a deep breath and pushed himself clean off the edge. He turned to see Dawn falling beside him. Liam was right behind them. Billy shook his head with a sigh then took the dive as well. Zak hopped off the edge laughing and wooting excitedly.

The wind rushed around them, snagging at hair and clothes and stealing air from lungs that battled vainly to breathe. The ground was rushing toward them far too fast. Then the wind felt more like a hurricane from underneath, trying to force Trey back skywards. When he hit the sand it felt more like he had jumped a few feet than the bone-breaking distance of reality.

The others thudded to the ground around him. Zak was visibly shaky due to using Nimula to slow their fall but everyone else seemed fine.

“We should run,” said Billy with a hasty backwards glance at the two ships. “They’ll hit any second.”

“No,” Zak said sternly. “Real men never run in this situation. We walk away all suave and sophisticated. Everything blows up behind us and we just keep our eyes forward. It will look badass.”

A unanimous shrug led to the five teens walking with purpose away from the two sand fortresses as they collided with each other at high speed. Wood and metal howled and thunder shook the earth. Smoke, screams and splinters enveloped the area but the teens just kept walking.

“Badass,” Zak repeated, satisfaction coating the word.

Previous – Chapter 35. Holding the Line.

Next – Chapter 37. Loyalty.