I Am: The Saviour

Chapter 12

By the time we returned to the mountain, the Sun was beginning to descend into evening, and Dragonfly smiled knowingly at me, as if she knew a secret I didn't. I ignored her; I was starving and empty after my encounter with the dragon horde. Leaving Pegasus in the cave where he settled down to rest after I'd unsaddled him, I made a beeline for the food room, Dragonfly trailing quietly behind me. It was the first time I'd had a decent appetite in months. Finch and Henry were already at a table, and I watched for a second as Henry tried to cut into his meat one-handed. The stump that remained on his other arm sat bandaged on the table. Before I could pretend I hadn't seen them, Finch caught my eye and waved me over. I reluctantly joined them, and not long after, Kipper arrived.

"Hey." Kipper greeted quietly. He watched me like I was a frightened animal, and one wrong word would send me into flight. I nodded back at him, the wounds suddenly reopening as the knives cut deeper. I hadn't talked to him since I'd first arrived at the mountain. The day that Knox died. My stomach squirmed when I remembered the blood that had coated my knife, and the way it had glinted evilly in the moonlight.

Finch saw how uncomfortable I was and mercifully changed the subject. Soon enough the group was laughing and joking, and while I couldn't force a smile I felt glad that they were still here with me after everything had happened. The happiness - if that was what it could be called - was short-lived.

"The army approaches!" A mouse-like man burst into the food room shouting manically. His green eyes were glazed and he ran through the centre of the room, continuing into the mountain. "The army approaches! To arms, to arms!"

For a few seconds, everyone sat there stunned. A young girl at the opposite end of the food room was the first to break out of the trance. She leapt up and ran out of the hall without a word, heading for the Armoury to arm herself. The rest of the group thundered after her, and Finch disappeared in the mob with Henry clutched at her side. Kipper shovelled the rest of his food into his mouth and stood up, rolling back his shoulders. I avoided his eye, and after a second he too joined the thinning crowd. The knife cut a little deeper.

I sat there for a second, trying to process it. Nadu had arrived early. With an army. It finally dawned on me that blood was about to be shed in excess on the battle ground that had been created. People I cared about could die. People I knew would die. The impending sense of doom and loss overrode my need for Nadu's head.

A stranger galloped into the food room on his way to an archer's ledge, his bow and sheath of arrows clasped tightly in his hands. It was the man who had originally alerted the mountain to the invaders.

"Hurry! The mountain has been besieged! To arms! Defend the turkey eggs!" He cried manically as he roared into an adjoining tunnel. Something sounded wrong in that sentence.

They're here. You'd better finish whatever you're doing and come see this. Pegasus spurred me into action, and I got up and rushed out of the food room, pushing past archers as they navigated the labyrinth of tunnels in the hope of emerging on one of the many ledges reserved for occasions such as this. What I saw when I finally reached the ledge where Pegasus waited made my jaw drop.

The desert ground was covered in a silver revolving mass as far as the eye could see. I closed my eyes and reached into Pegasus' soul. Seeing through his eyes made everything so much more real; King Zelrox had pulled all the stops in the hope of retrieving his dragon hearts. Goblins had been wrested from their lairs and now sat at the helms of crudely designed catapults; at least thirty Night Howlers circled around the army below; thousands upon thousands of soldiers and peasants stood in uniform position; countless other motley forms that I couldn't name watched the mountain with greedy delight. At the head of the army stood Nadu, his skinny form swathed in throws of tattered black robe and swirling black smoke. He cast a shadow twenty meters in either direction, and his jewelled face leered at the meagre assembly that guarded the gates into Boregorst Mountain as though it was an insult. His staff crackled with green power.