I think that’s how it was for Jarek Mace. He was a hero in the eyes of the people. They cheered when he approached, they gazed at him with awe and adoration. Were he to turn his back upon them that love would become hate, and they would despise him.
We stood for a while, then I returned to the cabin. Cataplas remained in his enchanted sleep, but Megan was sitting beside the
fire, idly tossing twigs to the coals and watching them flare into dancing life. Ilka and Astiana were asleep, Wulf and Piercollo sitting at the table quietly throwing dice.
I moved alongside Megan. ‘You lied to me, lady,’ I said, keeping my voice barely above a whisper.
‘I lie to a lot of people,’ she answered.
‘You told me Cataplas was your teacher when he was your pupil.’She nodded. ‘I had my reasons, Owen. And they were not evil.’Who are you?’She laughed then. ‘Are you still seeking a princess for your song? I am what you see, an old woman who has lived too long and seen too much. Will Mace stay?’I think so. But can we defeat Golgoleth?’Rabain did.’You said that before – but it is no answer.’She sighed. ‘What answer would you have me give you, Owen?’I thought about it for a moment, then smiled ruefully. ‘You have a point.’Suddenly her back stiffened and she cried out. ‘What is wrong?’ I asked her.
‘We must get Cataplas out of here,’ she shouted, pushing herself to her feet and stumbling to where the sorcerer lay. Shaking his shoulder, she woke him.
‘I am tired,’ he complained. Megan dragged on his arm.
‘Golgoleth is coming for you!’ she said. His eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet.
‘No!’ screamed Megan. ‘Don’t run! I can help you!’But Cataplas darted through the doorway and into the night. Faster than Megan, I sprinted after him. The moon was shining now and there was a sound in the air, a beating of invisible wings, a hissing of breath.
The trees to the south began to sway as if a great wind was rushing through them. I saw Mace, still by the rail. He drew his sword, and it shone with a blinding light.
Cataplas stopped, turned and looked to the south. He did not scream or cry out. Instead he fell to his knees, hands clasped as if in prayer.
The beating of wings grew louder, but there was nothing to be seen. An empty barrel rolled to its side, a shutter snapped away
from a window. Thatch from roof-tops was torn loose and swirled like snowflakes over the clearing. Men and women ran from their homes, twisting and turning, straining to see the monster that was almost upon them.
Then Cataplas screamed and rose into the air, great wounds appearing on his chest and back. Slowly, and with infinite cruelty, the invisible demon tore the wizard apart.
Megan ran to the spot below where the dismembered corpse hung in the night sky, some thirty feet in the air. Blood was splashing to the ground around her. Raising her hands she pointed at the demon, and I saw her lips move, though no sound could be heard above the slow beating of the wings.
A shaft of light flashed from Megan’s hand and for a single terrible moment we saw the demon. It was a creature of bone, no skin, no vital organs, no feathers or fur. Merely white, bleached bones and eyes that burned with dark fire. Its neck was curved, the head round like that of a giant eagle, and its beak was long and hooked. The light blazed around it as it hovered there and the dark, smoky eyes gazed down at the old woman below. The talons which held the ghastly corpse opened and the bloody remains fell to the ground. Then the demon swooped.
An arrow of blinding light leapt from the bow of Jarek Mace, lancing upwards, the point hammering into the segmented neck. As the demon reared up once more, a second arrow from Wulf struck one of the great wings, snapping a slender bone.
And the creature disappeared.
Megan fell to her knees. Mace and I ran to her side.