51

(LOCRYN)

What the Thunder Said

The surviving members of the Ancestors' Own cowered beneath the remains of their camouflage as the great dragon swept out of the skies to drive off the barbarian ships. They watched nervously as it came to rest at the very top of the highest tower of the castle.

"And now," muttered Locryn, as they all huddled in the remains of one of the hidden pits, "it will eat us all."

The ground around them was churned into mud, and the side of the pit had caved in, offering scant cover. Pasco lay in one corner, unconscious but breathing. Delen had a deep gash across her face but Jory had managed to stop the bleeding. Jory and Locryn were sporting various cuts and bruises under a thick layer of mud, but nothing too serious.

"Shh," said Delen, climbing out of the pit. "Look, it's hurt."

"Delen," cried Jory. He swore and climbed out after her.

"This is how we all die," said Locryn to Pasco's unconscious body. Pasco, somewhat predictably didn't respond, so Locryn groaned and scrambled after his teammates. He stared up at the great beast with some trepidation. To his relief, Delen had also come to a stop, staring up at the creature with her mouth open. The dragon's claws scraped along the roof tiles of the Keep, uninterested in them, its chest heaving in and out. It was bleeding heavily, and one of its wings had a gaping hole in it. As they watched, it wavered then fell, slipping sideways off the roof, leaving a trail of broken clay tiles behind it. As it fell it changed, transforming into a much smaller body that dropped like a stone - a smaller body that looked very familiar.

Locryn ran forward. He had no magic left, after the battle, not a drop and he was not going to make it before Candle hit the ground... but someone was there before him. The Revenant, he realised with a jolt, his anger rising at the sight of him. What had he done to Candle?

The falling body landed in the Revenant's arms like a feather, and the large man cradled her carefully so as not to jolt her wounded arm. Candle looked smaller than Locryn remembered, her unconscious form limp, her right arm torn up and bleeding. It was hard to reconcile the image with the great dragon that had turned the tide of the battle for them. Fighting down his anger he drew his short sword and advanced on the Revenant.

"What have you done to her?"

"Easy," said Jory.

"What have you done to her?"

The Revenant turned towards them, and Locryn resisted the urge to take a step back at the expression in his unsettling golden eyes. Delen would not be intimidated however and went right up to him.

"Is she alright?" she asked, plucking at the Revenant's sleeve. "Is she going to be alright?"

He turned towards her with a scowl but Delen held her ground. More members of the Ancestors' Own were emerging from their places of concealment while nursing their wounds and looking wary. Jory put a hand on Locryn's arm warningly as he started forward. He couldn't stand to look at Candle's mangled arm.

"I will take care of her," the Revenant replied, his voice deep and gravelly. He turned away and came face to face with the Mester who was leaning on Arthwg, her eyes as hard as agate.

"Now is not the time," said Jotham, nodding at the devastation surrounding them. The Mester's eyes flickered, but she did not move.

"While she is unconscious seems like the perfect time to make sure she is contained."

"Are you that ungrateful?"

"This makes it worse," said the Mester. "Imagine the damage she could do with that demon whispering in her ear."

"I will make sure that does not happen."

"I can't take that chance."

"You want to fight me? Right now? Here?"

The Mester paused, the air between them tense.

"You won't fight the barbarians but you will fight me over this child? This demon-possessed child?"

The Revenant's face split into a feral grin.

"Yes."

They stared at each other, the Mester breaking the stare first, pausing to look around at the injured and the ruins of the battlefield.

"A momentary truce then," she said.

The Revenant inclined his head and the Own parted ways to let him through.

"What in the Night is going on," said Locryn, ramming his sword into his sheath with more force than strictly necessary.

The Mester turned back.

"We need to see to the wounded," she said, "and secure a circle before Dawn. Let's get to it."

Everyone was happy to move, despite their weariness. The Mester walked across the field, healing the most desperately wounded and galvanising everyone into action with her words and encouragement.

Locryn turned away, wiping one muddy hand over his brow. Delen nudged him.

"What?" She gestured behind him, and he turned.

The Revenant was back, leaning against the remains of the tower wall, his arms folded. He gestured to them, and the three walked over, with some trepidation.

"Candle would want you to know," said the Revenant, his lip curling upwards. "That your Mester has her own demon. Its name is Moloch. If she finds out that you know, she will silence you."

His smile deepened, revealing white teeth and overlong canines. He watched them with abject amusement. "Do with the information what you will."

The air around him shimmered, and he disappeared from view.

The End of Book 1

Candle, Jotham and Eisheth will return in

Night Nation