ed and Lucy pounded through the mud. A line of armed fair-folk stretched out beyond the horizon. Above them but further back was the Hidden’s great armada of airships, those salvaged from the onslaught at St Albertsburg and those valiant others that had answered Benissimo’s call. Troops in the line that were brave enough to look away from the forest spotted their breathless Engineer and Medic racing to meet Benissimo.
“Good luck, Lady Beaumont.”
“Gods be with you, Master Armstrong!”
On and on, from giant to dwarf, from satyr-horned acrobat to leafy-skinned dryad, the Hidden saluted, with arms, swords and muskets.
“For the Hidden!”
“For us all!”
And the more they cheered, the more they turned, clapped and whistled, the more Ned prayed that Barbarossa was wrong – that they could, and would, win.
At the centre of the line stood Benissimo, Mr Fox and the Viceroy in a last-minute briefing of the Hidden’s generals. The Ringmaster turned to Ned and Lucy. His eyes were lit up like fires and his moustache was in full twitch. Gone was the sodden figure huddled under a blanket. Today Benissimo was the eye of the storm, ready to fight, and most assuredly ready to die.
“Pup, Lady B,” he grinned, with a doff of his beaten old hat. “Today we travel in style!”
And through the crowds, Ned heard a familiar trumpeting. In a burst of leathery grey skin came the Circus of Marvels’ winged elephant.
“Alice!” smiled Ned.
Alice licked him affectionately and pressed her head to his shoulder. The dear old creature was painted from head to toe in red and yellow war paint, and her wings were safely tucked away under a leather harness. As happy as Ned was to see her, he could think of a number of better-suited creatures with which to ride into battle.
“Bene? Isn’t she a bit –” Ned continued in a whisper, ever mindful of the old girl’s feelings – “old?”
Benissimo had to stifle a laugh, but equally mindful of Alice’s feelings, leant in close to Ned and Lucy.
“Alice has seen more fights than our Viceroy and Mr Fox put together. There’s no finer beast to ride in on, of that you can be sure.”
Lucy grinned and patted Alice’s trunk. “It’s an honour, Alice.”
“Besides, if your intel is right and we’re to reach the eastern tower, we’ll be needing wings.” As Bene said it, he lifted a small leather bag up from the ground. “Which one of you wants to carry it?”
They didn’t need to be told what it was.
“I’ll take it,” said Lucy, and she stowed the Heart Stone over her shoulder as though it was a backpack for school.
“Well done, child, that’s the spirit.”
Ned thought back to the dragon, and the stag-men that had led them to him. The sight of King Antlor now would give the troops a wonderful lift, but he hadn’t seen him as yet.
“Bene, where is Antlor and the herd?”
“The fortress lies between us and their mountain, but Fox still has King Antlor’s horn – we just have to pray they hear it when the time comes, and that they can fight their way through that sickened mire in time.”
Ned peered at the wood ahead of them. Its bark was dripping with oily darkness. Antlor and his herd had been its keepers and he had no doubt now that what they had once watched over had turned on them. If any had survived, would they even come?
“Now,” said Benissimo, moving on, “Tom here will attack from a different angle with his owls and airships – that should take their air defence’s eyes off us, so long as they don’t realise Alice is a flyer till the last minute.”
Now Ned understood why Alice’s wings were bound.
The Viceroy saluted an assent. His face was mostly healed now and he looked glorious in his golden armour, beaked helmet under one arm and lance in the other.
“Master Armstrong, Miss Beaumont – let’s give these devils a good kicking, shall we?”
Ned’s chest swelled. Just days ago, the Viceroy had come to the Nest a broken man with a broken people. But today, like Benissimo, he was the man they all needed, and Ned would be the boy.
“I think we’re about ready to try, sir,” smiled back Ned.
Together with Lucy, Ned followed Benissimo’s lead and climbed up aboard Alice’s back, Ned patting her gently as they did so.
“Hello, girl. I’m glad it’s you,” he said as they took their seats across her harness.
There was a faint sound of humming coming from ground level.
“Mr Fox?”
The agent smiled back up at him. He had an assault rifle in his arms, a pistol at his waist and a layer of Kevlar armour adorned with radio, munitions and grenades. At his back, carefully tied down, was the Stag King’s horn.
“Are you nervous for us or them?”
Mr Fox stopped humming and took the safety off his rifle. “Just me, Ned. I hate violence in any form but I appear to want to do some.”
“Good luck, Mr Fox,” said Ned.
Mr Fox looked up to both Ned and Lucy.
“Good luck to you both, and do try to stay alive – the world wouldn’t be nearly as interesting without you two in it.”
There was some shuffling from behind Mr Fox and his men in grey when, pushing through the crowds, came Rocky, his wife Abigail and the Tortellini brothers. Scraggs the cook came next, his gnomes armed with a vicious array of kitchen knives, followed by master swordsman Monsieur Couteau. Man by man, and woman by woman, the Circus of Marvels’ troupe – from the leopard-and feather-skinned dancing girls, to the three emperor monkeys, Julius, Caligula and Nero – formed a party around Alice. Atop her back and to Ned’s rear, Gorrn shuffled with a quiet but resolute “Arr”.
Finally, there was George.
“Geo—” began Lucy.
Benissimo stopped her with a raised palm.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. George is someone else right now.”
And the Ringmaster was right. The great ape’s fur was slick with sweat, every animal instinct fired and ready. He walked on all fours, his great knuckles gouging the mud, and took his place in front of their mount. George would be leading the charge and his two wards – there was no question of it – and pity the devil or tin man that stood in his way.
There was a low grunt and the ape paced forward, Alice following in his wake. As she did so, a deep bass drum sounded out from behind their lines.
Brum, brum, brum.
Behind Benissimo, Lucy put her hand on Ned’s.
“Are you OK, Lucy?” he whispered.
She looked at the forest ahead of them. It stood, dark and brooding, like a wall of wood, and within it an army of Darklings and Demons lay in wait. Beyond them, metal men with gears for hearts were ready to cause harm.
“Not really, but I don’t think it’s me you should be asking.”
Ned looked now at the Ringmaster’s back, quite possibly for the last time. Heart Stone or not, Benissimo would not return and they both knew it.
Brum, brum, brum.
“Bene?”
“Yes, pup?”
“I know what you’re going to do, and I …”
But there was nothing he could say. His and Lucy’s welling eyes were already speaking volumes as Benissimo turned to them both.
“Now, now, you two, there’ll be plenty of time for that after.”
Ned pushed away the lump in his throat.
“It’s been an adventure, Benissimo – every bit of it.”
Brum, brum, brum.
George’s pace quickened, and Alice followed in kind, while to their left and right the great line moved with them.
“Indeed it has, pup – and it’s been an honour to walk its path with you both.”
Brum—
The drum silenced.
George suddenly reared up on his hind legs, his back arched and his arms raised high in the air. He roared and bellowed, beating at his chest defiantly, then brought down his fists in a pounding strike that was heard all down the line.
“Go on, George! You show ’em!” yelled Abi the Beard.
The forest had no answer for George’s show of strength, and Ned glowed at the sight of it. George the Mighty broke into a gallop, Alice’s body heaved and Benissimo pulled himself up, eyeing his allies on either side.
“Odin and Zeus protect you all,” he screamed. “CHARGE!”
The earth shook with pounding feet, the air trembled, and the army of fair-folk and grey-suits at their sides and back roared in return.