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“Ssshhh. Edi, it’s me,” whispers a familiar voice.
I spin and fling the arm not clutching a book around a naked old man, doing my best not to howl with relief.
“Wings,” I whimper. “Thank God you’re here.”
“Sshhh,” he repeats, dragging me into the shadows and pointing above.
I look up, seeing only velvet darkness and revolving constellations, until twinkling stars wink out in smooth succession as a shadow passes over them. An eagle soars overhead, wings open wide.
“Not Gulid?” I whisper and Wings shakes his head.
“Big drop,” screeches Curt as he emerges, peering over the jagged edge of terrace. His arms windmill and he regains equilibrium at the exact same moment he realises he can’t see me. “Edi!” he yells, in desperation.
“Here.” I grab his coat and pull him back into the shadows beside me. “Quiet.”
He’s landing a soggy kiss of relief on my mouth when Kit pads onto the terrace, glances at the death drop, yawns and heads straight for us, muttering, “Is that appropriate? And clothes might be useful in this climate.”
“I see you’re still here,” mutters Wings.
I point a digit upwards and whisper, “Eagles searching for us.”
Curt removes his coat and wraps it around the shivering old man’s bony shoulders as our quartet squeezes into a dark corner of the remaining windswept terrace. At least we’re not here in winter.
“Can you change her into something else?” Curt asks Kit. “So the eagles don’t know it’s her?”
“No,” Kit replies. “I can make her green for a moment.”
“No, thanks. Where’s Gulid?” I ask. “Did he get caught?”
“Not yet, as far as I know,” Wings replies. “He’s been watching the serpents. They’ve realised the town’s empty and are searching everywhere. He’s not come back to say they’ve all disappeared.” He pokes the book, still clutched to my chest. “It didn’t work, I gather. I was hoping to leave him here.” He nods at Kit.
“Thank you, scrawny bird,” the cat replies.
“I carried your flabby weight,” Wings snaps.
“Two of you,” says the cat, “and I’m all muscle. Though an eagle snack would be nice.”
“Your magic didn’t work then?” Wings lobs back.
I feel honour bound to quietly interrupt. “It’s not his fault. I wouldn’t let him do it. If he sends the serpents away now, Sospa and Serpen will go too.”
“Oh,” mutters the old bird. “And you didn’t think of that before you got here?”
Kit growls to himself, not meeting the bird’s gaze.
“It’s a long story,” I add, “but I need to get them to safety first, then he can send the others away.”
Wings eyebrows meet as he frowns. “You get them to safety?”
“Of course her,” says Curt. “It’s always her. She’s going back to Ert...”
“Earth.”
“I don’t care,” he snaps. “She’s taking them there and I’m going with her.”
“Won’t you get stuck there?” Wings asks, with an uncanny grasp of the situation.
“No,” I reply, at the same time Curt says, “Probably.”
“Don’t you have any faith in me?” I ask, since he’s annoying me.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he replies. “I’m always here. And I’ll be there too.”
“Yes, you will. Sorry.” I give him a hefty snog simply because I need it.
“Blurgh yuck,” Kit mutters. “You don’t know where he’s been.”
“So you want me to find Sospa and Serpen and fly them to you,” states Wings, after I surface.
“No. We have to go to them,” I reply. “Very long story.”
“Wait ‘til you hear the bit about love,” Curt mutters.
“How did you know we were here?” I ask Wings.
“I didn’t, but the roof already caved in and I remember you being here before. Sssh.”
We peer up at the sky and slink back into the shadows as two eagles circle overhead, before swooping below the turrets with a shriek. The castle rocks back and forth as though shaken by a giant child and more of the walkway collapses. The turret, containing my one time ice prison, groans, topples sideways and crumbles, throwing my cell over the edge. Thud follows crunch as it bounces off the walls on its long journey down to hell. Wings wraps his arms around me, desperately trying to shield my head from flying rock. I love this old bird.
The stone under my feet shudders as a familiar hiss builds from within the castle depths and a jagged crack races through the central walls in a giant arc. A huge judder splits the castle in two and blue flames roar through the chasm. The heat from the curved wall of flame threatens to roast us alive.
“This your magic?” Wings asks Kit.
“He didn’t have any choice,” I reply in his stead. “We have to get off this castle.”
“I can fly you two off, but I need Gulid for him,” Wings says, nodding at Kit.
The shriek of a thousand tormented voices rips through my eardrums as a teeming column of darkness rises up behind us, blocking out the glow of smouldering rock.
No. Not now.
The mould waterfall undulates and solidifies into the monster’s skull, glaring down at us with a malevolent sneer. The cavernous mouth splits wide open and a million maggots swarm into place, forming jagged teeth.
“What did you do?” a horrified Wings yells at Kit.
“This miscreation is not my work,” Kit replies. “Blame your serpents for this.”
“They’re not my serpents.”
“Shut up!” I holler, glancing from the wall of flame curving around us to the mould monster closing from behind. The remainder of his slime slithers up the only rock face left open for escape. We’re trapped. I grab a handful of cat fur and yell, “Do something.”
“Stop screaming at me,” he roars back. “The only way to get rid of the mould for good is to burn it up with even more deep magic.”
“Why didn’t you do that before?” asks Curt, head swivelling back and forth between the two fatal threats.
“I didn’t have the DreamWay and the Storyteller back then,” Kit replies, yanking his fur out of my grip.
“I meant as soon as we got here,” says Curt.
“It uses up most of my energy,” Kit grumbles, face like thunder. “I’m not lazy or senile.”
“No-one’s saying that,” I cry, grabbing both his ears and pressing my eyeballs to his, “but please save my life.”
Kit drapes a paw over a sheer drop down the mountainside, peering into total darkness. “You could leap off to clear the mould and then drop down.”
I glance over the side, still clinging to his ears. I swear the climbing slime grins up at me. “Are you crazy? I’ll die.”
“Or you could fly with Wings,” the tigerlion adds and my eagle grins.
“Go now,” says Kit, “before it gets up here and cuts you off completely. Eagle, get them away and I’ll deal with the mould.”
“How are you getting off?” I yell.
Another shriek echoes through the racket, but it isn’t coming from the mould or the flames. High above the chaos, drawn by the burning collapse of the castle and all the shouting, two eagles spy their prey lurking on the terrace and swing around in a wide arc, gaining distance with every passing second.
“They’ll tell Armpit where we are,” I holler, yanking on Kit’s ears. “We’ll never get back to the others. Kit, stop them.”
“Too far away for the magic,” the cat replies.
“I’ll stop them,” says Wings, morphing into the eagle and taking off.
“Get them closer,” Kit roars up at him.
The castle rumbles, the mould closes in and the flames shoot higher into the night sky, lapping at Wings’ feathers as he rises.
“Whatever we’re going to do, we have to do it soon,” shouts Curt, donning his discarded coat.
And that’s when a hero returns.
