The Coldstone Conflict Page 3

  On the other side of town, Effigy Spatula and Nazz were looking out from beneath a battered-up carriage on the south end of Tanner Street. Neither of them had spoken in quite some time, and it wasn’t because they had nothing to say to each other. They weren’t speaking because the situation in the street had them both holding their breath and praying for a miracle.

  One of the obsidian dragons had landed atop the North Gate, and was carefully scrutinizing the street … in particular a young girl who was standing, frozen to the spot with fear, in the middle of it.

  Nobody moved.

  “It’s seen her! We’ve got to do something, Effigy; we can’t just leave her there to die! She looks about twelve!”

  “Stay where you are,” Effigy snapped. “Don’t be a fool.”

  “But she’s not moving!”

  “Neither is the dragon.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Shhh!”

  The girl was of medium height, with a pale, pretty face and curly brown hair. Her black robes betrayed her as a pupil of Candleford’s new preparatory school for girls.

  Effigy squinted up at the dragon; the great beast was beginning to unfurl its wings.

  “Effigy!”

  “I see it, I see it!”

  “What’re we going to do? It’s taking off.”

  “Just stay put, damn it!”

  “No!”

  Nazz swung out from beneath the carriage and bolted toward the girl, just as the dragon took off from its gate-perch.

  “Nazz! Come baaaaack!”

  The ogre was oblivious of Effigy’s cries; he dashed over to the girl, scooped her into his arms and bolted for the sanctuary of a nearby alley. Effigy could see that he wasn’t going to make it: the dragon had already taken flight and was about to dive.

  “Arrrgghghghghghghhhhh!” Effigy screamed, rolling out from under the carriage and leaping to his feet. “IT’S ME YOUR MASTERS WANT, YOU GREAT NOTHING! MEEEEEEEEEE!”

  The freedom fighter turned on his heel and ran, the black shadow rising over him with remarkable speed.

  He tried to run in an unpredictable zigzag, reasoning that the beast wouldn’t be able to use its molten breath if it couldn’t focus on a target. He was wrong.

  A jet of flame erupted just behind and to the left of him. There were screams as the upper floors of several buildings caught alight. Effigy ran on, but he knew he was done for; the flames had been so close … and he couldn’t keep up his current pace for long.

  “OOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIII! DRAGON FILTH! TAKE MEEE!”

  The booming roar had come from Nazz, who’d appeared at the mouth of the alley, and was waving a heavy-looking length of timber. He swung the wood over his shoulder, then turned and made straight for the North Gate. The dragon soared and turned on the air; unfortunately for Nazz, it was upon him before he got halfway toward the gate tower.

  Effigy, holding back both tears and anger, made a determined effort not to watch the confrontation; instead, he made for the alley Nazz had emerged from … and found the girl cowering behind a stack of dustbins.

  “On your feet! Quick!”

  The girl peered up through streaming eyes. “He saved me!” she said, in what Effigy couldn’t help recognizing was a remarkably well-spoken voice. “He saved my life and now he’s going to die!”

  Effigy grabbed the girl by the hand and dragged her to her feet.

  “Yes, and if you don’t keep up with me now, it will all have been for nothing. What’s your name?”

  “Vanya.”

  “Right, Vanya; I’m Effigy Spatula. C’mon!”

  The girl rushed along beside him. Soon they emerged onto Laker Street, where Effigy quickly snatched hold of Vanya’s arm and dragged her in the direction of the palace.

  “Where do you live?”

  “I—my family are from Spittle.”

  “Well? Where do you live when you’re here?”

  The girl shook her head and tried to get her bearings.

  “At a boarding house on Stainer Street,” she said. “B-but I’ve finished for the term; I need to get to my father’s ship!”

  Effigy almost breathed a sigh of relief. “Perfect!” he managed. “Maybe I can leave with you. Now stay close to the walls. If that dragon catches up with us, we’re both finished.”

  Back at the gate, Nazz staggered. He’d put up a valiant fight, but he was no match for an obsidian dragon. The beast had been toying with him, striking terrible wounds with claws and teeth, but not using its fiery exhalations.

  The dragon struck out again, ripping a terrible gash in the ogre’s stomach. Nazz faltered, and dropped the timber he’d been carrying. His strength was deserting him. If he could just manage one final burst of speed …

  Sensing the deterioration of its prey, the dragon spread its mighty wings and landed in the street, folding the great leathery appendages behind it. Then it reached back and bellowed forth a red-hot spew of flame.

  But Nazz had gone.

  The ogre ran faster than he’d ever run before, the dragon flapping fiercely behind him. He led the beast in a merry dance: over the junction with North Gate, through into the top end of Tanner Street, along Royal Road and down into Palace Street, where he quickly ducked into the Church of the Wormridden.

  An acolyte, who would usually have homed in on potential worshipers like a torpedo, watched him with an eerie detachment.

  “How do I get out of this place?” the ogre boomed, shoving the acolyte against the wall, hard. “What’s wrong with you? Speak! I need help: how do I get out—”

  The largest stained-glass window in the entire city imploded under the immense bulk of the dragon, showering glass shards in every direction.

  The great beast crashed onto the pews, which seemed to turn into so many fragile dominoes.

  Nazz spun round and hurtled back toward the great double doors, but he hadn’t got halfway down the aisle when they too crashed to the ground, revealing the second dragon.

  Nazz cursed under his breath; it must have spied its sibling across the city and decided to assist the hunt. Oh, well …

  The ogre leaped up onto the back of a remaining pew and dashed along it, diving for the far aisle when two colossal jets of flame spewed toward him.

  Nazz half crashed, half rolled onto the stone floor, the heat streams pouring into a fireball above him. Struggling to his feet, he managed to reach the font in three strides and, wrenching the great stone basin from its mount, hurled it at the nearer of the two beasts. It bounced off the creature’s armored scales and hit the floor. The dragons advanced.

  Nearing exasperation, Nazz turned and made to run again, but this time he tripped and crashed onto the flagstones. He tried several times to get up, but was so tired that he could actually feel his strength ebbing away …

  The dragon he’d hit with the font suddenly moved—incredibly fast for its size. Craning down, it belched forth a jet of flame that lit up the entire sanctuary.

  Nazz the ogre managed one last, terrible scream as the fires of hell consumed him.

  Four

  JIMMY AND OBEGARDE STOPPED dead in their tracks. They had reached the top of the Tor, which gave them a magnificent view over the harbor.

  “It’s them,” Obegarde said. “Both of them: they’re guarding the harbor, one at each end.” He turned to Jimmy with a resigned look on his face. “That’s every exit covered; Vanquish must be controlling them.”

  Jimmy sniffed, looked down at his shoes.

  “We’re stuffed, then,” he muttered. “We either hand ourselves in to a dark god, get incinerated by dragonfire, or take on two of the possessed who were legendary warriors before they became undead.”

  The vampire sighed. “I wonder how far Effigy and Nazz got …”

  “I don’t even want to think about it,” said Jimmy, sadly. “But we have to get a message to Burnie, somehow—and that means at least one of us getting out on a ship. Preferably Effigy; he’s the only one who actually knows where Burnie is!�
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  “You really think the troglodyte will be able to do something?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “No, but he’s a damn sight smarter than we are—no offense.”

  “Then there’s only one thing for it.” Obegarde took a deep breath, then shook off his cloak. “You go; I have to fight them.”

  “What?” Jimmy boggled at him. “Are you out of your bloody mind? They’ll carve you up!”

  “It’s a diversion! Besides, I’m undead: they’ll have to decapitate me or at the very least stake me. Either way, I’ll last a damn sight longer than you!”

  “But it’s suicide!”

  “So is waiting here to be caught and killed! I’ll go for the pair of them, and you go for the ship.”

  “But it’s—”

  “Deal?”

  “But—”

  “DEAL?”

  “All right, damn it! All right.”

  Obegarde concentrated hard, his nails and teeth elongating as he prepared to move for the harbor. When he finally did shift, it was with such speed that Jimmy, who’d been standing right beside him, could make out nothing more than a blur.

  He watched as the shimmering form flickered along Royal Market, flashed past the treasury and crashed, with surprising force, into the creature that had been Gape Teethgrit. At the opposite end of the harbor, Gordo Goldeaxe turned, like a puppet on a string, and staggered over to join the combat.

  Jimmy wasted no time; he sprinted down Crest Hill, negotiated the south side of Royal Market Place, leaped three barriers blockading the harbor … and did a double-take. Effigy Spatula had appeared at the far end of the docks, a young girl trailing after him. They were heading for the quay.

  Jimmy felt a sudden surge of despondency: Nazz was nowhere to be seen. Could the great ogre really have fallen? It didn’t bear thinking about.

  He returned his attention to the harbor, where Obegarde was struggling with the two possessed warriors.

  Jimmy gritted his teeth and rolled up his sleeves: he couldn’t just leave the vampire to his fate. They’d been through too much together …

  Obegarde spun in the air, slashing at Gordo with his fingernails. The strike cut a line across the dwarf’s armor, but couldn’t penetrate any further. In reply to the attack, Gordo brought up his battle-axe in a wild sweep. The vampire managed to evade the move, but in doing so he fell straight into the arms of Gape. The big barbarian lifted Obegarde over his head and threw him into a stack of barrels.

  There were a few seconds of silence before the vampire exploded out of the stack like a cannonball. This time, he leaped through the air, aiming a kick that caught Gape squarely in the chest and sent him crashing to the ground.

  Landing awkwardly, Obegarde managed to duck down and sweep the dwarf’s legs out from under him. Gordo grasped at thin air, but went down, hard.

  Obegarde was already back on his feet; delivering a mighty blow to Gape’s chin which resulted in a sickening thud, he then wrenched the moaning barbarian on to his knees and began to pummel the living daylights out of him.

  Gape quickly put a stop to the attack by driving his cannonball head into Obegarde’s stomach. The vampire doubled up, allowing Gape to produce a sword from his belt and drive the pommel into Obegarde’s face.

  The vampire went down, but managed to roll aside before the barbarian could follow up the strike.

  Gape drew a second sword and advanced on his foe, giving Gordo time to recover from his fall.

  Obegarde watched the approaching barbarian with mounting unease, narrowly evading the first lunge and ducking to avoid the second. Instead of waiting for a third sweep, he threw a punch that, fortunately for him, caught Gape’s upper arm. Seizing the initiative, he leaped in the air and kicked the first sword out of the warrior’s grip, watching it as it flew past him.

  Obegarde grinned, quickly sidestepping as he noticed the dwarf rising to his feet.

  “Looks like we’re even, white-eyes,” he snapped. “Now are you and your soul-sharing friend going to play nicely, or am I going to have to kill you both?” He backed away again, glancing down at the strange engravings on the sword hilt.

  “Hmm … looks like this one’s enchanted,” he muttered, circling the duo. “A pity the true wielder isn’t around to command it, eh?”

  Gape Teethgrit’s white eyes showed no sign of recognition.

  Gods, Obegarde reflected, he really isn’t in there, is he?

  Sensing the vampire’s pause for thought, Gape rushed forward, driving his blade out in front of him in a desperate lunge. Obegarde stepped aside, parrying the drive with comparative ease. A second thought caused him to turn again, just in time to knock aside the dwarf’s first spirited attempt to decapitate him with the battle-axe.

  Obegarde danced through the melee, blocking left, dodging right, until he stood, once again, facing down both the warriors. Until today, he’d never fought with a sword, but supernatural ability to read minds was giving him an edge … especially when the minds in question had thoughts as slow and predictable as this.

  He shook himself from his reverie; Gape and Gordo were moving in for a second round of attacks.

  Obegarde took a few steps back, and walked right into Jimmy Quickstint.

  Across the harbor, Effigy and Vanya were approaching the West Quay.

  “Which one is your father’s?” Effigy demanded, deliberately turning the girl away from the conflict in order to focus her attention on the ten or twelve ships lined against the quay.

  “It’s called the Royal Consort; father usually has it waiting right at the very end of the quay.”

  Effigy rushed the girl along.

  “Is that it?” he said, gasping at the sheer magnificence of the square-rigger that dominated the last three mooring bays. “Who on Illmoor is your father; a lord of some sort?”

  “No—actually, he’s an earl.”

  “But there’s only one earl in Illm—” Effigy looked sharply at the girl. “You’re Lord Visceral’s daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you go to school here?”

  “Of course: I am thirteen years old, and Candleford is already thought to be the best preparatory school in Illmoor.”

  “Ha! Not when it’s been reduced to a great pile of ash! Quickly!”

  They hurried up the long-plank that had been stationed to bridge the gap between dock and ship—but the way was quickly barred by a sturdy-looking rogue with gold teeth.

  “Aye up, little miss,” he said, his grin a blinding gleam. “An’ who’s this ’un?”

  “This is Effigy Spatula, Captain. He and his friend have just saved me from almost certain death, and there are dragons behind us, so please just—”

  “Dragons? Tom! Tom! I told you that was a dragon I saw go over earlier! That’s ten crowns you owe me!”

  A second crewman appeared at the entrance to one of the cabins.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” he said.

  “Can we please get going,” Vanya demanded. “It’s imperative that my father knows what’s going on here!”

  “I’ll second that,” Effigy agreed, surprised and a little annoyed that a girl so young knew words like “imperative.”

  Several more crewmen appeared and, under orders from the captain, began to release the ship from its moorings.

  “What are you doing here?” Obegarde screamed at Jimmy as the warrior-zombies approached. “I told you to go for the ship!”

  Jimmy gritted his teeth, brandishing a crowbar he’d found wedged inside a barrel-top. “I’m not leaving you behind, Obegarde. Either we both go … or we stay.”

  The vampire didn’t have time to reply before Gape lunged at him with yet another wide strike. Jimmy leaped atop a barrel and managed, much to his own astonishment, to somersault backward over Gordo, landing behind him.

  He swung the crowbar with all his might, catching the dwarf across the back of his head and sending him crashing to the floor.

  Obegarde parried another attack from Gape, c
utting the barbarian a vicious slash across the chest as he faltered.

  “Get out! Just go! I can’t watch out for you and defend myself and—”

  He glanced over at Jimmy, who was standing next to the prone figure of Gordo Goldeaxe and looking very pleased with himself.

  “Jimmy …” Obegarde started, his face a mask of horror. “What are you doing? Effigy is going for a ship: follow him!”

  “What? No way! Look, I’ve dealt with this one pretty well, wouldn’t you s—”

  “No!” Obegarde screamed. “Behind you!”

  Jimmy Quickstint spun around, just in time to see the two dragons drop from the sky and dive toward him.

  The thief’s legs were a blur: he moved so fast that, for a moment, Obegarde was given to wonder if the gods were assisting him. The dragons converged on the spot he’d occupied seconds before, one narrowly avoiding the other as they came to ground.

  Obegarde gasped, but he didn’t have time to fall back before Gape lunged at him once more.

  Jimmy wasn’t hanging around: his escape dash had turned into a determined run for the quay.

  Obegarde summoned all his concentration, then jumped onto Gape’s back and transformed into a snake. Gape screamed as the reptile curled around his neck and chest, constricting flesh and bone. The barbarian blundered around, flailing madly with his free arm, scratching and biting the snake as his strength faded. Eventually, he managed to wriggle free of the serpent’s grip. Snatching hold of its tail, he flung it into the air and snatched up his sword in order to slice it in two. Obegarde, however, was changing form again. The resulting bat flapped over Gape’s sword arm and rose into the air with remarkable speed. The barbarian tried, rather pointlessly, to give chase, but tripped and collided with a stack of barrels.

  Now rain was pelting the harbor in torrents.

  The dragons had mysteriously ceased their pursuit of Jimmy Quickstint. They both hung in the air as if hooked on giant, invisible hangers.

  Obegarde flew after the thief, who was now a fast-accelerating speck on the quayside.

  Gordo, meanwhile, had regained consciousness and scrambled on to his stubby feet. The dwarf managed to regain tight hold of his battle-axe. Turning his head to the sky, he swung it at the dragons in a gesture of defiance.