01 Wing Warrior (8 page)

‘When?’ Glass asked.

‘Sorry?’

‘When have you had worse?’

‘Oh, it was a long time ago.’ He kicked his heels. ‘I forget when.’

Sky took his hand. ‘Come on, you daft lump. I’m not taking no for an answer.’

They were just arriving back at the village when they met Cloud returning from the mill. He was wearing his usual serious expression.

‘You three,’ he said. ‘Tell me what happened.’

‘There was some kind of tidal wave,’ Sky said.

‘Was anybody hurt?’

‘Some people are missing.’

Cloud looked at Tidal, and though nobody thought it was possible, his expression became even more serious. ‘Come here,’ he said. ‘Let me see those cuts.’

‘They’re nothing,’ Tidal protested, suddenly feeling very awkward and exposed.

‘Let me see.’ Cloud took a good look. ‘What did this?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Was there something in the water?’

‘I don’t know. It was all a bit confusing once I got washed off the pier.’

Cloud turned to the girls. ‘Did you see anything?’

‘No,’ Sky said.

Glass gulped. She looked at Sky, then Tidal. ‘I saw something,’ she said, quietly.

‘What did you see?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘What do you think you saw?’

‘A snake. But big. A big snake.’

Cloud looked over his shoulder, at the calm expanse of the Everlasting Ocean, with his hands clenched. ‘Where’s Nimbus?’ he asked.

CHAPTER NINE

At the foot of the southern slope of Sentinel Mountain, among a jumbled mess of boulders and rocks, there is a cave. The cave is very dark, very deep, and has never been explored.

Once upon a time, a great river flowed out of the mouth of the cave. The river twisted and turned through the trees of the Forbidden Woods (although they weren’t called the Forbidden Woods in those days) before joining the Forbidden River (which was similarly not called the Forbidden River at that time).

Many years ago, that river dried up. The people of the nearby villages and towns believed this may have been due to a rock fall deep inside the mountain, but nobody was ever brave enough, or interested enough, to venture into the cave to see if this was true.

In fact, it was not a rock fall that caused the river to dry up, but something entirely different; and on the day Nimbus met Cumulo the dragon, he woke that entirely different something, and the river started to flow again.

That same day, a fox had his foxhole washed away by the reappearance of the river. Luckily, the fox was not at home; but he returned from hunting just in time to see Nimbus emerging from the cave with a huge dragon wriggling out close behind him.

The fox, who was wise even by fox standards, crept back into the undergrowth, deciding it was best not to get involved.

***

Nimbus, who was still carrying the Wing Warrior sword, looked at the sky, blinking. From the position of the sun, he guessed it couldn’t be much later than one o’clock, which gave him plenty of time before he had to be home for dinner.

‘What is that?’ Cumulo asked, as he scrambled out of the cave, with his belly splashing in the river and his claws scratching and scrabbling on the rocks.

‘What’s what?’ Nimbus asked.

‘The yellow thing up there. I’ve seen it before. In my mind.’

Nimbus waded over to the riverbank. He had not forgotten how big the tooth he had found was, and he was not too keen to stay in the water any longer than he needed to. ‘It’s the sun,’ he said. ‘It shines through the day, then goes to sleep at night.’

‘I like it,’ Cumulo said. Having completely removed his massive bulk from the cave mouth, he let his gigantic wings unfurl with a thunderous crack. He flapped them, and the wind they generated was almost strong enough to blow Nimbus clean off his feet. ‘Oh, that feels so much better. I like outside.’

‘I thought you might,’ Nimbus said. ‘Now, follow me. We have to get you somewhere hidden before you get spotted.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see. And don’t forget the armour.’

Cumulo put his head back inside the cave mouth and picked up a big sack between his teeth. The sack clanked metallically as it swung from his jaws. ‘You should be wearing this, you know?’ he said.

‘You’re kidding. It weighs a ton. How am I supposed to walk in it?’

‘You’ve been chosen by the armour, you’re supposed to wear it. And that means you aren’t supposed to walk anywhere.’

‘Oh, really? And how do you suggest I get home?’

‘Wing Warriors fly. You’re supposed to ride me.’

‘You can forget that. I’m not keen on heights. I’ll stick to walking.’

Cumulo rolled his eyes. In the gleaming sunlight his scales appeared to be purple, but sometimes Nimbus caught a glimpse of them in the corner of his eye and they looked red, or green, or sometimes even white. ‘I’ve never heard of a Wing Warrior afraid of heights,’ the dragon said.

‘But I’m not a Wing Warrior.’

‘The armour thinks otherwise.’

‘The armour’s wrong.’

‘But it did pick you, and sooner or later you will have to wear it.’

‘Why?’ Nimbus headed off through the trees, dragging the dead weight of the sword behind him. Cumulo followed, examining everything with a childlike interest.

‘Something made the armour call you. That means something magical has come back into the world.’

‘That thing in the river?’

‘No. Something else. The armour knew it was time to be found. I think we’re going to war.’

Nimbus stopped. He was getting an awful feeling; a sense that events were spiralling totally out of his control and he was going to get dragged along with them if he wasn’t careful. ‘What war? Nobody mentioned a war to me. I can’t fight in a war.’

‘The armour –’

‘Thinks otherwise, I know. But I’m just a kid, Cumulo. I can’t fight, I can’t even lift this sword. I can’t fly around on your back. Maybe my dad could, but not me.’

‘I don’t think the armour gets it wrong, Nim.’

‘I think it has.’

‘I don’t know if you have ever thought to look at it too closely, but there is an inscription on the sword you are carrying. Perhaps you should read it.’

Nimbus took a look at the sword. He had not noticed them before, but there were fine letters carved below the hilt. ‘These letters are strange to me,’ he said. ‘I do not know what they say.’

‘The inscription is in the language of the dragons. It says, “look to the clouds.” Nimbus is a type of cloud, isn’t it?’

Nimbus sighed heavily. He certainly didn’t feel like a Wing Warrior. He knew he wasn’t brave enough to go to war; he was barely brave enough to go out with Tidal in his fishing boat. He was so small, and the armour was so big.

‘It’s okay,’ Cumulo said. ‘I won’t let you fall.’

Nimbus patted Cumulo on the side of the neck. The scales were as rough as the bark of a coconut tree. ‘Let’s not talk about war any more. Let’s just worry about getting you hidden before people spot you and decide to chase you into the mountains with pitchforks.’

‘Why would they do that?’

‘People get scared of things that are different to them. And believe me, you are about as different as it gets.’

‘What’s wrong with being different?’

‘Some people just don’t like it. It’s silly, but people can be like that sometimes. Come on. The Forbidden River is just through here.’

Cumulo wriggled between two trees, waking up some squirrels that had been sleeping in them and causing a small bird to dart into the sky with a screech. ‘Tight fit,’ he muttered, as he squeezed through and the trees twanged back into position behind him. ‘I think I’ve put on some weight.’

‘Too long sat in that cave,’ Nimbus said. He was standing on the riverbank, watching the furious water bubble and spit as it accelerated out towards the ocean. ‘This river is much faster now,’ he added, thoughtfully.

‘It’s the extra water from the underground cave,’ Cumulo said, dropping the sack of armour. ‘It has made this river dangerous.’

Nimbus stared at his broken reflection in the water. ‘It’s probably ruined my fishing spot.’

‘I think whatever has come out of that cave with us has probably ruined a lot of fishing spots, and much more besides.’

‘I had the best fishing spot on the river. Maybe the best fishing spot in the world.’ Nimbus put his hand into the river; the water rippled around his fingers. ‘I don’t see any fish here now.’

‘There aren’t any. The thing has scared them away.’

‘What do you think it was?’

‘I really don’t know.’

‘Did you see the size of the tooth I found?’

‘I did.’

‘It must be a monster as big as you are.’

‘Bigger.’

‘Aren’t you afraid?’

‘There are few things a dragon fears.’

Nimbus wiped his hands dry on his tunic. ‘Is it wrong to be afraid?’

‘I don’t think so.’

Nimbus smiled hopefully.

Suddenly there was an evil laugh, as twisted as the surrounding trees, and the undergrowth was alive with a flurry of activity. A small, wiry creature, no bigger than a cat, darted out of the cover of some nearby brambles and stopped in the open. It was thin and crooked, like a brown twig that had come to life, and its beady eyes burned like coals in the heart of a fire as it looked straight at Nimbus.

Nimbus’s breath caught in his throat. He had put the sword on the ground and was too scared to even pick it up.

Just as quickly as the creature had appeared, there was an explosion of motion from the opposite direction, and a gigantic stag burst into the clearing. The magnificent animal faced off against the small, ugly creature, and a deep and uncomfortable silence descended on the woods. It was as if everything was poised expectantly, even the trees, to see what would happen next.

Eventually, the stag snorted challengingly, and stamped the ground with its hooves. In retaliation, the tiny stick creature made peculiar barking, yelping noises, and beat its thin chest with its hands. The stag advanced a pace, lowering its antlers. The other thing threw back its head, laughed horribly, and then dashed off into the thicker undergrowth in a spray of leaves and branches.

The stag turned to Nimbus, and there was a look in its eyes that seemed to say, ‘I don’t fancy doing all the hard work by myself, so if you wouldn’t mind helping out, that would be nice,’ and then it ran off, disappearing in the dense foliage.

After a while, Nimbus managed to stop staring. ‘I didn’t dream that, did I?’ he asked.

‘Old rivers aren’t the only things that have awoken today,’ Cumulo said.

‘What was it?’

‘It was a stag.’

‘No, not that. The other thing.’

‘Oh, that. I’m not sure. But I think it was a goblin.’

CHAPTER TEN

‘Goblins aren’t real,’ Nimbus said, as he splashed across the river. ‘They’re stories kids get told to stop them going into the woods.’

‘Goblins are just as real as dragons and trolls.’

‘Trolls!’

‘Ugly things, live under bridges. You must have heard of them.’

‘Trolls aren’t real.’

‘And what makes you so sure of that?’

‘I’ve been coming to these woods all my life. I’ve explored every inch of them, in the day and night, and I’ve never seen a goblin or a troll before.’

‘But you bumped into dragons every day?’ Cumulo’s grin was wide and sharp and a lot more intimidating than the dragon probably intended it to be. It was probably very difficult to grin in anything other than an intimidating way when you were a giant winged lizard with teeth that could bite through rocks.

‘How would you know it was a goblin anyway? You’ve never seen one before.’

‘You’re right, but I told you before, I have a lot of memories knocking around inside my head, and I don’t know how I got them.’

‘If it was a goblin, why now? Why has it woken up now?’

‘Magic is coming back into the world. Things that once were, will be again. And there is something more. A dark threat from the West. The armour sensed it, and knew war was coming, and the other magical folk sense it too. I would no longer suggest walking in these woods alone. Goblins are small, but they are evil. They will snatch you away if you give them the chance.’

‘Isn’t anywhere safe?’

‘I think you’re safe enough with me.’

Nimbus stroked Cumulo’s long nose. ‘I guess you’re right there, but what about my friends, my family? They live close to the woods. Will they be hurt?’

‘Goblins are wicked creatures. They play tricks on humans, and take careless children from their parents, but they are cowards too. They would never attack your village.’

‘And the thing in the cave?’

‘That, I’m not so sure about. Hopefully whatever it was has gone out into the ocean, and we’ll never see it again.’

‘What about other things? If the goblins have returned, will there be other legends?’

‘There are other things coming alive all around us. I can feel it in the trees, in the ground, the river.’ Cumulo’s tongue flicked out. Ribbons of cloud moved in curious patterns, attempting to obscure the face of the sun. ‘Something else too. Something much bigger. The thing that started this. I can feel it in the air. The world trembles around it.’

‘Is it dangerous?’

‘Deadly.’

A horrible feeling had taken root in Nimbus’s stomach, and with each new revelation the feeling grew a little stronger, choking him with fear. ‘Does it know about me?’

Cumulo nodded.

‘What does it know?’

‘It knows there is one last Wing Warrior in this land.’

‘Stop calling me that. I’m not a Wing Warrior.’

‘But you are. And the dark magic knows it.’

Nimbus gulped. The sword in his hand seemed heavy and uncontrollable.

‘Is it coming for me?’ he asked.

‘It is.’

All the strength went out of Nimbus’s legs, and he sat down just in case he fell over. ‘You might be wrong,’ he said. ‘You admit you don’t know a lot of things. Your memories are all mixed up, and you’ve been living in that cave for years. You could be wrong about this. Who’s to say you can’t be wrong?’