01 Wing Warrior (24 page)

Cloud climbed up into the cart beside her, carefully reaching out for her hand. She let him put his hand over hers, finally extinguishing the light. The silhouettes the light had been casting faded into the greater darkness, draining the world of everything except the night. Glass let out a deep breath.

‘Are you okay?’ Cloud asked.

Glass looked up at him. It was obvious how terrified she truly was. ‘How did I do that?’ she gasped. ‘I was just thinking about light, and how we needed some, and then it was there.’

Cloud rested his hands on her slim shoulders and smiled kindly. ‘There are many strange things happening in the world, Glass. Dragons and goblins are just the beginning. You have a great gift. One you never realised you had.’

‘She’s a magic user,’ Sky said.

‘That’s not possible,’ Glass said. ‘I’m not special.’

‘You are more special than you realise,’ Cloud said. ‘And Sky is right. You are a magic user.’

‘But how?’

‘The magic is coming back into the world. After magic was banned, people forgot it was ever anything more than what was written in the history books. They forgot how to use it, and those things that were magical simply ceased to exist. But Sorrow... Sorrow lived on, somewhere beyond the borders of our land, and when she was strong enough, she came back. She started this. She woke the Wing Warrior armour, and the armour woke Cumulo. With two dragons in the world, it was only a matter of time before the other magical things started to come back. Goblins, sprites, fairies, pixies, nymphs, gargoyles, trolls, ogres, and hundreds of other magical creatures.’

‘But why is it in me?’ Glass asked.

‘It has always been in you. Sleeping. Waiting.’

Glass pressed her face into Cloud’s arm. ‘I’m scared.’

He stroked her hair. ‘You have to be strong. Like you were when the goblins attacked us. Do you think you can do that for me?’

She nodded.

‘Good girl.’

‘Is she going to be safe?’ Tidal asked. ‘If she can make light out of the dark, what else can she do? And can she stop it if she needs to?’

‘She saved us all. Maybe she does not know how to control her power yet, but I for one feel safer having her here with us.’ Cloud climbed out of the cart and released Onyx’s harness. ‘I’m sending Onyx back home. We will travel the rest of the way on foot.’

‘Is it far?’ Sky asked. ‘I don’t think Glass will be able to walk much after all this.’

‘Not far. A short way up the path there is a sewer entrance. We cannot take a horse there.’

Cloud led Onyx around, and whispered something in his ear. Onyx snorted, flicked his mane, and jolted into action, thundering away and almost immediately becoming invisible in the dark.

‘No, wait,’ Tidal said, angrily. ‘I’m not going anywhere until we’ve talked about this. Glass obviously has some strange powers that could be dangerous to all of us.’

‘Many people have powers that can be harmful to others,’ Cloud said. ‘But that isn’t what’s bothering you, is it?’

‘I...’ Tidal looked down at his feet. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

Cloud leaned close to Tidal’s ear so that nobody else could hear him speak. ‘Nobody wants to be a hero, Tidal. You may think you do, but believe me, you don’t.’

‘Who said anything about being a hero?’

‘I’m not a fool. First Nimbus faces the dragon when you cannot. Now Glass saves our lives. I can imagine how angry that must make you.’

‘I’m not angry about that.’

‘But you are, and that’s more dangerous than Glass’s magic could ever be.’

‘I’m not dangerous.’

‘You’re out to prove something. I don’t know if you’re trying to prove it to yourself or somebody else.’ He glanced at Sky. ‘But whatever, and whoever, it is, if you stay on this path you’re going to end up getting hurt.’

Tidal kept his gaze fixed on his boots. ‘Everybody is making a difference. Even Glass. What good am I doing here?’

‘You’re here, Tidal. That’s enough.’

Tidal finally looked up, bravely trying to meet Cloud’s serious stare. He wasn’t sure whether he was more ashamed for the way he felt, or for the way Cloud had been able to tell. Either way, he could only match the old Wing Warrior’s gaze for a second before looking away again.

‘Okay,’ he muttered.

‘Good, now let’s get moving.’

Cloud helped Glass and Sky down from the cart. Glass looked even more fragile than usual, diminished in strength and size. She clung to Sky as though if she let go she might blow away on the breeze. ‘She isn’t going to be able to walk,’ Sky said.

‘She has to,’ Cloud said, crouching beside Glass. ‘You have to be strong. I can’t carry you, not even a little way. If the goblins come back... I need to be ready.’

‘I’ll carry her,’ Tidal said. ‘She barely weighs a thing.’

Cloud smiled. ‘That’s good. You’re a strong lad.’

Tidal lifted Glass up onto his back. She fastened her arms around his neck.

Cloud looked into the black sky. There was something up there, barely visible. The shadow of a shadow, weaving through the stars.

‘Run,’ he said, drawing his sword.

There was a shrill scream, loud enough to tear apart the night itself.

‘What is that?’ Sky asked.

‘It’s Sorrow,’ Cloud said. ‘She’s followed us.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Cumulo hadn’t liked living in the cave under Sentinel Mountain. It had been dark and cold and damp. As large as it had been, it had still felt cramped to him, and there was nobody there for him to talk to except the bats, and they had very little to say for themselves.

Once he had been released from the confinement of the cave, and he had flown above the clouds, he had made a promise to himself that never again would he live in such a place. He would only ever live above the ground, in a place where he could lie in the sun and flap his wings whenever he had the urge to.

However, despite his promise, here he was, stuck in a tiny dungeon only just big enough for him to curl up in. He knew he had surrendered to the soldiers for the right reasons, he knew it had been the only way to protect Nimbus; but even so, he couldn’t help wishing there had been some other way.

There weren’t even any bats down here.

He tried to shift around slightly to find a more comfortable position, but his back was pressed hard to one wall, and his head was wedged right up to the bars of the prison gate. It was entirely impossible for him to move anything much other than his eyes.

For the time being he chose to keep his eyes closed. After all, there wasn’t much in the dungeon for him to see other than dripping stone walls, damp patches of clinging moss, and bits of old bones. Besides, with his eyes closed he found it easier to think about what the outside world had been like. It had been full of so many colours, so many smells. He wished he had been allowed more time to experience all those strange new things before being brought here.

He wondered whether he would ever be allowed to see the sun again.

There was a squeak, and he opened one eye to catch the fleeting sight of a brown rat scurrying away down the dimly lit tunnel that led from the dungeon cells to the guard room.

Cumulo sighed. The sigh refused to echo in his cramped room, and fell quickly into stony silence. He truly was alone here, without even an echo for company.

Closing his eyes once more, he turned his attention to the vast collection of memories he had stored away in his brain. Memories that were as strange to him as the outside world had been.

Most of his memories were blurred and indistinct, but every now and again he would come across one that was clearer. It would usually only be a fragment of a memory, like a glimmering pearl sunk in the muddy bed of a fast–flowing river; and finding such treasures only made him more confused.

What were these memories? Why did he have them if they weren’t his? And if they weren’t his, whose were they? Who had put them there? What was he supposed to do with them?

Perhaps the man called Cloud, the last of the true Wing Warriors, would have answers to these questions.

Cumulo pictured Cloud’s face in his mind. It was not difficult, he looked so much like Nimbus.

‘I know him from before,’ Cumulo muttered. There was nobody there to talk back, but somehow speaking the words made him feel slightly less lonely. ‘But how do I know him?’

He dove back into the mess of half–formed memories. He felt that somehow his true thoughts were locked away from him, and if only he had a key of some description everything would be explained.

He remembered the time when he was still in the cave and Nimbus had come to free him. It seemed a long time ago, but it was only a few days. So much had happened since. He had spread his wings, touched the very sky, sat on a beach, spoken with the ghost of Captain Spectre. But back in the cave he had thought he was not allowed to go outside at all. He had thought he was destined for a life without any knowledge of the sun or the wind on his face.

Why had he thought that?

‘The wise men,’ he said.

That’s right. The wise men. Nimbus had asked why Cumulo shouldn’t leave the cave, and Cumulo had remembered twelve wise men deep in discussion. They had been talking about keeping a dragon hidden, and a terrible evil rising in the West. He realised now, they had been a war council, preparing for the worst of wars. The war of dragons.

And one man in that council had been Cloud.

Cumulo let a deep growl build in the back of his throat. The memory was unfurling in his mind, like a sheet flapping in a strong wind, becoming fresher and cleaner.

Cloud was sitting at a table, discussing a secret plan that would change the fate of the world forever.

Then the memory was gone, leaving only one thought, and a sour taste in Cumulo’s mouth.

It was Cloud who had shut Cumulo under the earth.

Could Cumulo really trust a man who had locked him away from the true wonders of the world?

There was a noise in the guard room. Cumulo opened his eyes. Captain Obsidian was striding down the corridor.

‘How do you like your new room?’ the captain asked.

‘It’s cramped,’ Cumulo said.

‘I’d often wondered why some of the cells down here were so big, with such big doorways and access tunnels. I guess they were built in the olden times, for keeping things like you locked up.’

‘Not things like me.’

Obsidian smiled grimly, and placed one gloved hand on the hilt of his sword, as if he expected Cumulo to smash right through the bars of the dungeon and snap him up. His eyes were dark, masking his fear.

‘It’s okay,’ Cumulo said, lazily. ‘You won’t need your sword.’

‘Better to be safe,’ Obsidian said, gruffly. There was the very slightest tremor in his voice.

‘I’m only here because I allowed myself to be caught.’

‘All the more reason for me to believe you could let yourself out whenever you want to.’

‘I won’t do anything that may cause harm to the people here. Nimbus doesn’t want me to fight.’

Obsidian snorted a laugh. ‘Am I to believe you are a creature of honour?’

‘Believe what you will.’

‘Then you will tell me where he is.’

‘Who?’

‘You know who. We have had word from Landmark. There was a dragon attack.’

Cumulo blinked, but said nothing.

‘You are not the only dragon.’

‘So it would appear.’

Obsidian gripped the bars of the dungeon. ‘Tell me where Nimbus is. I know you only allowed yourself to be caught so he could escape.’

‘I did.’

‘Was the attack on Landmark part of your plan as well?’

‘Do you really believe Nimbus would turn a dragon on his own people? He would not even allow me to defend myself against you and your men.’

‘Your friend is a wanted criminal. He has stolen a horse, assaulted my men, laid waste to a mighty fortress. And he ran away rather than attempting to clear his name.’

‘Nimbus is an honest boy.’

‘How can I believe he commands your will yet has nothing to do with this second monster?’

‘Because you are not a fool, Captain.’

Obsidian’s grip on the prison bars tightened. The muscles in his face twitched, as though he was trying to control some increasing emotion of panic or anger. These last days had been tough for him. He was obviously a good man, with a strong sense of duty; but he was a simple man. Now he was faced with dragons, creatures he had never thought existed. The strain was obviously taking its toll.

‘I am sorry,’ Cumulo said.

‘For what?’

‘For my part in your discomfort.’

‘I’m not uncomfortable.’

‘The magic will change many things. There will be terrible battles, and people will suddenly be aware of powers they never realised they had. Ancient enemies will resurface, and the land will be filled with monsters. A war is coming, and we will need good men like you if we are to survive.’

‘Then tell me what I need to know. Tell me where Nimbus is.’

‘How would I know? I’m stuck in here.’

‘Don’t play games with me, dragon. I know you have mystic powers beyond those possessed by mortals. You know where the boy is, and you know what he’s planning.’

‘I’m afraid I have nothing to tell you.’

Obsidian’s jaw was straight. His brow creased with impatience. ‘I’ll make sure you never leave this place again,’ he said.

‘If that is to be my fate, then I will live with it, as we all must.’

Obsidian shook his head. ‘Then you can rot here. But your friend is still out there somewhere, and I will find him.’ A smirk played around the corners of his mouth. ‘You should hope I do, because if he isn’t siding with the black dragon, then he is against it, and you can’t protect him down here.’

‘If the boy dies, then hope dies too, Captain.’

Obsidian spun neatly on his heel and strode away. ‘If the boy dies,’ he said, ‘it saves me the job of killing him.’

Cumulo closed his eyes. Inside he was raging, and the desire to smash free of the prison was almost overpowering; but he knew that destroying things and killing people would not help Nimbus.

He listened to Obsidian’s footsteps going back down the corridor to the guard room.