Keeper of the Realms: The Dark Army (Book 2) (11 page)

‘Hold on,’ panted Darkmount, sensing her fatigue. ‘We are nearly there. Nearly there.’

Charlie took one last look at the moon-drenched landscape that swayed hundreds of feet below and decided that now would be a good time to shut her eyes.

A sudden lurch made her eyes spring open and she was terrified that they were about to fall. But instead of plummeting to their deaths she realized that Darkmount had heaved himself up and was now lowering his legs over the other side of the wall. He changed his song subtly and released his hold on the stone so that only the tips of his fingers and toes touched its surface, allowing them to slide rapidly downward.

As they descended, Charlie had a brief view of the main citadel with its jutting battlements and jagged turrets, but before she could examine it further it fell out of sight behind a second wall.

Darkmount’s feet touched the ground and, ducking low to hide their silhouette, he hastened to the next wall. Charlie, white-faced and high on adrenalin, clung to his back like
a racehorse jockey. On reaching the far side Darkmount once again began to climb.

Halfway up Charlie pounded on his back. ‘Guards!’ she whispered. ‘There’re guards.’

‘Where?’ growled Darkmount.

‘Below,’ she hissed, then realizing that was obvious added, ‘Down, to our left.’

The two of them watched as a small troop of Stomen marched by. The tread of their feet and the clatter of armour echoed eerily into the night.

They soon passed, allowing Darkmount to continue upward undetected.

Soon they were up and over the second wall with another nervous wait at the bottom as another patrol passed. Then they were climbing the final barrier.

The citadel swept into view. Charlie’s heart, already panicked from the treacherous climb, almost skipped a beat. The fortress seemed to defy the rules of perspective. It was gigantic – a mountain of stone. Thick, impenetrable and very, very intimidating. The battlements and spiked walls cast fierce shadows that seemed to lash out at the moonlight.

‘Calm,’ she whispered to herself, and did her best to slow her panicked pulse. ‘Stay calm.’

Darkmount shifted his grip on the wall so that he could see her. ‘Get a hold of yourself! This is not even the beginning. You cannot afford to feel fear, not at this stage.’

‘I-I’m trying my best.’

‘Well your best doesn’t seem good enough!’ he harrumphed. ‘You’re supposed to be a Keeper, so behave like one!’

Charlie felt her fury rise at the remark. She’d heard it too often since arriving in Bellania and hated the fact that everyone had unrealistic expectations of her simply because of her name. Although Azariah Keeper, her mentor, had taught her so much about the powers she could command, she still felt woefully underprepared for what lay ahead. The reminder of Azariah’s death fuelled the fury inside her, and although the sudden warmth of her anger buoyed up her courage, it wasn’t quite enough to blanket her fear. It remained within her breast, heavy and sullen, like bad heartburn.

‘I’ve got it under control,’ lied Charlie. ‘Let’s get going, OK?’

Darkmount gave her a wary look, grunted in annoyance, but continued their descent. At the bottom Charlie slid off Darkmount’s back, massaged some feeling back into her fingers, then squatted down beside her unpleasant companion. Together the two of them hid in a pool of shadow.

She almost screamed as she felt a talon squeeze her shoulder.

‘Nibbler, you idiot! What are trying to do, give me a heart attack?’

‘Sorry.’ His eyes flashed in the darkness. ‘I’ve been waiting ages.’ He grinned in relief, obviously glad to see her.

‘Are you two ready?’ asked Darkmount.

‘As ready as I’m ever going to be,’ said Charlie. Nibbler nodded in agreement.

‘Good. Then it’s time for us to make our entrance.’

Throwing his previous caution aside, Darkmount strode across the gap between the wall and citadel. Raising his arms over his head he began to sing. His hands started to glow and
as his song increased in strength the light intensified so that it went from a deep green to a pearly white that was almost painful to look at.

With a roar he clapped both hands against the citadel and, amidst an explosion of sparks, started to push. The wall juddered and moaned in response to his onslaught and slowly, ever so slowly, his hands began to push a section of the citadel’s stone blocks inwards.

The stonesinging and twisted shriek of the tortured wall didn’t go unnoticed. Cries of alarm and shouted orders could be heard in the distance.

‘Darkmount …’ Charlie began, but stopped when she realized the huge strain he was under.

Veins were popping across his forehead, tendons stuck out along his neck, sweat dripped from his nose and his eyes had narrowed into slits of concentration.

Begrudgingly the section of wall sank deeper beneath his fingers.

A spear slammed into the floor by Charlie’s feet as a troop of Stoman guards rounded the corner. With shouts of anger they rushed towards them.

‘Better hurry that up!’ shouted Charlie to Darkmount as she watched the soldiers narrow the distance.

Nibbler reared back on his feet and pawed at the air. Unleashing a torrent of flame that crackled into the night he prepared to jump into the skies.

Charlie grabbed him by the tail. ‘No! We can’t afford to get separated. I’ll deal with it.’

Stepping forward and summoning her Will, she crouched into a loose K’Changa pose and waited for the first Stoman
to come within striking distance. Charlie licked her lips in anticipation. She was determined that after her last confrontation with Stoman soldiers – back in Alavis where her Will had failed her – this time would be different. This time she wouldn’t act like a scared little girl.

But before she could put herself to the test a shuddering screech came from the citadel as Darkmount, with a final grunt, forced his way inside. There was a boom as the section of wall he had been pushing fell forward.

‘In!’ he roared. Grabbing a loose rock, he flung it so that it deflected a thrown spear that had been intended for Charlie. ‘Get in!’

Charlie and Nibbler took one last look at the running soldiers before ducking through the hole in the wall.

Veins still pulsating and with sweat coursing off him, Darkmount knelt down, heaved up the fallen slab and, with a final bellow of stonesinging, slammed it back into place.

13

Dark Forces

The young Stoman boy lay awake, wrapped in his blankets. Something unusual was happening and it took a while for his sleep-befuddled brain to work out what exactly had woken him. There – a rhythmic pounding, so low pitched he could hardly hear it, but he could certainly feel it as it rippled through his bones.

Wide awake and curious, he threw off his blankets, made certain his pannier was secure and added an extra log to the fire to ensure it would still be alight when he returned. The night sky was clear and the stars twinkled overhead, but over towards the Red Moon Canyon – where the rhythm seemed to be coming from – was an odd glow. With his curiosity growing, the young boy crept forward past thick stalks of wild amethyst bamboo and beneath the softly glowing leaves of crycarry trees. As he neared the canyon, the pounding noise grew in volume and the light intensified. Scrambling down on his hands and knees, he edged forward right to the canyon’s edge. Peering over he looked down and gasped in astonishment.

Below, a Stoman army flowed through the canyon like a scarlet river. The pounding he had heard was the measured
step of hulking soldiers as they marched in order, battalion after battalion sweeping past amidst flickering torchlight.

Each Stoman soldier wore polished scarlet leather armour and was armed with an axe, sword or mace. Black circular shields embossed with a clenched fist were strapped to their arms, and at the head of each battalion marched a hooded figure who carried a blood-red pennant that flapped in the rushing canyon wind.

As the army marched on and on, seemingly endless, the Stoman boy gazed in wonder at its sheer numbers. After what seemed like hours, the infantry passed and the young boy was just about to rise from his vantage point and return
to his bed when a rustling, scuttling sound froze him in his tracks. Once again, torchlight lit the canyon and rounding the bend came the Stoman cavalry, different from anything that had preceded it.

The boy’s eyes went wide with fear. It was the Widow Brigade, infamous throughout Bellania for their savage attacks. Not on foot, these were mounted soldiers, in horned helmets and spiked stone armour. They handled their charges with pride and studied nonchalance, but as seasoned warriors the Widow Brigade knew just how much terror their steeds evoked. Instead of horses they rode giant, bloated arachnids, whose venom dripped to the ground to form a poisonous wake. The spiders marched across the canyon floor and even along the walls, the crunch and thud of their claws echoing back and forth.

The boy turned even paler as fear and revulsion gripped him. He hated spiders, even the smallest kind. ‘Sweet Sapphire Gods, please don’t let them see me,’ he whispered.

Luck was with him, for the Widow Brigade passed without incident. Breathing a sigh of relief and with a promised blessing to the gods, the young boy headed back to his campsite. But as he retreated he could hear the rumbling of stone wheels along the canyon as even more troops and wagons passed through, and the Stoman army tirelessly and relentlessly marched to war.

14

The Descent

Charlie took stock of their surroundings within the citadel.

They were in a long corridor that was decorated with a series of snarling gargoyles and intersected at regular intervals with other pathways. Curious, Charlie leaned forward to examine the nearest figurine, which had been skilfully carved as part snake, part fox, and set into the wall. She jumped in horror as it opened its glowing red eyes and began to howl. The two gargoyles on either side opened their eyes too and, seeing the intruders, joined the cry. The cacophony of yowls and screams swept down the corridor as all the other gargoyles awoke and fixed the small group with their glaring eyes.

Panicked by the bizarre alarm system, Charlie turned to Darkmount.

‘We won’t have long,’ he said. ‘You –’ his finger thudded into Charlie’s chest – ‘go that way and you –’ he pointed at Nibbler – ‘go in that direction. I will wait here. Bring me the first soldier you come across and be quick!’

A hundred questions flitted across Charlie’s mind, but the urgency of their mission and the awful racket spurred her into motion. Sprinting down the corridor, she slipped
round a corner and, to her shock, ran straight into an approaching Stoman soldier.

Charlie bounced off his armour and fell backwards to sprawl on the floor.

‘Whoopsy,’ she said. It was a stupid thing to say, but she couldn’t help it after the shock of the collision and the constant screech of the alarm. As the soldier drew his sword, her brain finally kicked into gear.

Summoning her Will, she kicked the Stoman in the knee and, while he flailed around trying to regain his balance, jumped to her feet. Falling into a loose K’Changa pose, she skipped aside to avoid the first swing of his sword and blocked his second. Before he could reverse the blow, she punched him in the solar plexus, robbing him of air. As he doubled over, Charlie instinctively followed through with another blow to his chin.

The guard spun around, bounced off the wall and fell unconscious in a heap.

Charlie grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him back round the corner. ‘Hey! Darkmount! Over here.’

The bishop hastened over. ‘Good. Now get your Winged friend while I find the Gate’s location.’

Charlie nodded and ran off in the direction that Nibbler had taken. She stumbled to a halt as Nibbler rounded the corner in front of her. He was dragging a soldier along too.

‘Wud-hop?’ Realizing that he couldn’t talk with the soldier’s sleeve in his mouth Nibbler spat it out. ‘What’s up?’

‘Got one already,’ Charlie panted. ‘Let’s go.’

In his haste to follow her, Nibbler got his hind leg tangled in the soldier’s clothing. As he stumbled forward, an arrow
snapped past his face and splintered against the wall. He turned to see a horde of enraged Stomen stampeding towards him.

‘Run!’ shouted Charlie.

Racing back up the corridor, they saw Darkmount give his captive a final shake before smashing him into one of the gargoyles.

‘Darkmount, we’ve got company!’

Seeing the charging Stomen, Darkmount hurled the unconscious soldier like a javelin towards them. Charlie and Nibbler hurriedly ducked out of the way, but the Stomen behind them went down like bowling pins.

‘This way!’ Darkmount hastened off down the corridor, and for all his bulk moved with surprising speed.

Charlie was shocked to realize that without her Will she probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the nimble bishop. Nibbler, however, had no such problem. Wings half spread and with all four talons striking sparks from the floor, he easily kept up.

The three of them ducked into a passageway, tore open a door and burst into a wide stairway that spiralled down into the gloomy guts of the citadel. They ran on, taking the steps two and three at a time.