The Vulture King Page 12

  Then the skirling swooped for his face, talons extended and without further thought, Aram threw both knives straight at Tai.

  The older boy looked down at the blades buried in his chest then crumpled to his knees. He raised his eyes to Aram’s. The glaze was gone now, and awareness flooded back.

  “Aram,” he choked out. Blood bubbled on his lips and he coughed once. “I didn’t know… I couldn’t have imagined…what he was. Forgive me.”

  Then he fell forwards, face first onto the ground. The cechua let out another shriek of rage and beat its wings against the air. It rose a little way and came to rest again on the back of its master’s throne.

  Aram felt numb. His brain was frozen, and he simply stood rooted to the spot. The king stared at him, then rose and placed a hand on Bina’s head. The girl gave a single startled cry and her eyes went blank.

  Aram screamed, the tearing sound jolting him out of his stunned state. Set into the back of the throne, revealed when the king moved towards Bina, was a pulsing orange stone. Its flickering surface writhed with bands of red and black, emitting a threatening glow. Aram didn’t stop to think, he simply raced towards the curse stone. He had one chance to save Bina. He wasn’t going to fail her now.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The vulture king’s cechua fixed its gaze on Aram. The oranges and reds of the curse stone swirled in its eyes, turning them demonic. The king, standing just in front of the creature, clenched a fist. There was a sucking sound. Ryu rose up just in time to see the knives being wrenched from Tai’s chest by an invisible hand. Aram’s knife slid from its hiding place in Tai’s boot and rose into the air too. All three blades began to glow and then burst into flame. There was a breathless pause, then all three weapons flew straight at him. Aram flung out a hand and pitted his will against the king’s. The knives slowed and then hung suspended in the air, moving neither forwards nor backwards as the unseen battle raged.

  Aram drew on the power of the radix and it flowed through him in a clear, bright stream. He filled himself to the brim and then poured energy towards the weapons. The movement was so slight that at first it was barely noticeable, but then the static blades started to inch slowly away from him. He was flooded with elation. He was winning!

  A moan drew his attention. Bina stood white and swaying under the king’s hand. As Aram watched in horror, grey strands twined through her hair and her face began to line and sag. The King was rapidly draining her. It hit him then, like a hammer blow. The same thing was probably happening to the slave Veldera on the plains below. People were dying every moment he stood here. Aram took a step towards the throne, then another. It was like trying to push through a wall of air turned solid. At the same time, he felt the king’s mind pressing against his. He was using his Animai power to try and bend Aram to his will. Caught between the knives, the wall of air and the crushing power of the king’s mind, he felt himself begin to falter.

  Aram drew yet more power into himself. There was nothing but silver light inside him. He focused on pushing back the knives while also pushing himself forwards against the barrier of air. At the same time, he concentrated on closing his mind, not allowing the king the smallest foothold in his head. He pulsed with magical energy which his body could barely contain. At any moment he felt he might shatter into a million bright shards and be scattered on the winds.

  Bina was ancient, and her frail legs could no longer support her. She sank to her knees, but the king’s hold on her didn’t break. Aram’s heart squeezed, gripped in an iron fist of terror and desperation. Bina had only moments left.

  Then Ryu was flying towards the stone, eyes caught by its sparkling glory. The king, attention fixed on Aram, didn’t notice the bird pry loose the prize from the throne and race back to his master. As the magpie released the glowing rock into his hand, Aram flung aside all caution and filled himself past the point of bursting with power. The knives behind him clattered to the ground and he felt the king’s mind, howling in frustrated anger. The sound seemed far off and no longer any threat.

  He gripped the pulsing stone and channeled every shred of radix power he could into it. As he did, he felt the king’s mind open itself to him. Everything that he was lay exposed to Aram, hateful and pitiful both. Aram saw how the young Veldera, desperate for human connection, crept into a kraal one night. How he lifted a small girl from her bed and snuck away into the darkness. Back in the cechua nest, he tried to calm the hysterical child by offering her hunks of raw meat, but she simply wailed louder. The noise grated and chafed the boy’s ears and with a scream he pushed her over the edge, watching as she spiralled away to the plains far below. The birds feasted on her broken body. Aram’s heart clenched with sick pity which was slowly washed away as he watched the vulture king’s cruelty grow, death after death, till a mound of corpses were his only legacy. Steadfast now in his purpose, Aram poured power through himself into the rock in his hand.

  The curse stone expanded and contracted, once, twice, its dull orange colour now laced through with threads of silver. One last time it shrunk in on itself becoming just a pinprick of light. Then it exploded into millions of reddish sparks, which flared briefly before dying. Almost immediately, the cechua thrust itself off the back of the throne and rose up into the air. Its cry was one of desperate hope and it beat its wings strongly as it flew out of the stone nest.

  For just a moment Aram forgot his surroundings, watching its flight in wonder. The cechua, it appeared, had been as much a slave of the king as anyone else. Now his heart soared at the bird’s escape. When he looked towards the throne again, the king had collapsed to the ground. Bina was staring at him and she had time to croak out, “Aram, help me,” before she too toppled over.

  He raced to her side and laid a hand on her chest which still rose and fell slightly. The other slave Veldera had had only moments between returning to themselves and dying. If he was going to save his friend, there was no time for hesitation or doubt. Slowly, carefully, he poured energy into her. It moved through him, warm and silvery and then down into her wrecked body.

  At first it seemed nothing was happening, but he pressed on. More and more he sent into her. Finally, the lines on her face began to smooth out. Her hair regained its dark lustre, and a faint hint of colour graced her cheeks. She opened ice-eyes and her voice trickled from the dove’s beak.

  “The others, Aram, the Veldera are dying.”

  Immediately he sent his mind down to the battle plains. For many it was too late, but there were people still clinging to life. Aram sent the radix’s power forth in a flood, a wave that washed over the dying and brought them back from the brink. When he had done all he could, he returned his consciousness to the mountaintop.

  Bina sat stroking Love where the bird lay cradled in her hands. She looked up at him as he spoke. “I have done what I can.”

  She leapt up and threw her slim arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest. “You did it, Aram! You defeated him.”

  Aram looked at where the king lay, then walked over to the body. Looking down at it, he wondered how one person could have caused so much misery and suffering. The king’s lips opened, and a mewling cry burst from him. Aram staggered backwards in shock. The creature wasn’t dead!

  The unearthly howling went on and on, the king’s blind eyes rolled wildly in his head. Bina came to stand next to him. “We can’t leave him alive,” she stated, voice flat. “As long as he lives, he will be a threat to us all.”

  Aram stared down at the man in front of them. “But he’s broken, finished. Can’t we just…”

  “The world viewed him as broken from birth and look what he became. This thing killed your mother Aram. It enslaved and murdered generations of our people. It doesn’t deserve our pity.”

  Aram stood, his hands hanging at his side. He remembered the moment the knives had buried themselves in Tai’s chest. In the heat of the battle, he’d done what he needed to do to survive, but now the memory made him sick to the stomach. And
this, this was something completely different, killing a man who had no way to defend himself. It was just…wrong to him somehow, despite all the suffering the king had caused.

  Bina shot one arm out to the side and a knife flew off the ground, straight to her hand. “My mother used to say, once a rat is caught in a trap, the greatest kindness is to put it out of its misery.”

  She bent and calmly, methodically, cut the kings throat. The mewling cut off abruptly and the man’s eyes glazed over, then stilled.

  “It is done.” Bina threw the knife down onto the dead man’s chest then turned towards the exit. Aram stood there, feelings of shame and revulsion warring within him--shame that he hadn’t had Bina’s courage and revulsion at what she’d done.

  Then he imagined descending to the plains below and explaining he hadn’t killed the king after all. He could clearly visualise the shock on people’s faces. They had trusted him to protect them, and he had let the tyrant live. Bina was right, what was to stop the vulture king doing the same thing again? He realised there had been no other choice and he was suddenly grateful to his friend for taking the burden of this death from him. He would have to process Tai’s death at some point and deal with his feelings of guilt, but he was spared this extra weight. He moved over to Orane’s body, knelt and gently closed her eyes. He kissed her on the forehead and whispered to her he loved her. Then he stood and followed Bina out of the stone bowl to where the Saanen waited for them. Ryu rode on his shoulder, gently nibbling his ear. He ran a finger back and forth over the bird’s sleek, black head. The children climbed onto the Saanen’s back and in heavy silence made their way back down the mountain.

  The plain was littered with bodies. As they picked their way across it, they saw red-robed people lying next to black clad Shrouds. Scattered between them were the corpses of cechua and to Aram’s dismay, the occasional Saanen. It broke Aram’s heart, seeing how few of the Veldera were left. A group of them were clustered around the only three red clad Veldera still standing. It looked like they were trying to explain to the shocked and confused former captives exactly what happened to them while under the king’s control. One woman was shaking her head in denial, another had tears running down her face. The third, a man, simply stared blank-faced at nothing, eyes hollow with pain and loss.

  Bayre came walking towards them, shoulders bowed. He looked up at Aram, opened his mouth and closed it again. The boy knew exactly what question the man couldn’t bring himself to ask. He slid off the Saanen’s back and walking over, grasped Bayre’s shoulder tightly. “Tai didn’t make it Bayre. I’m sorry.”

  A rapid intake of breath, then Bayre groaned, a hoarse sound of raw sorrow. He hung his head and Aram saw tears pocking the dust of the plain. Bina joined them and asked, “Where’s Ellery?”

  Bayre dragged a forearm over his face then looked up at them. “She died, so many of them died. They just started to age so fast and…and…then they were gone.”

  He threw out an arm towards the battlefield and the many bodies lying on it.

  “Well, the king is dead, so their sacrifice meant something at least.” Bina’s voice was matter of fact and Aram wondered at her calm. She took a step closer to Bayre. “And what about your final task Bayre, still got the stomach for that?”

  Bayre’s eyes flew to Aram and the boy suddenly remembered that Bayre had promised to kill him. It seemed completely surreal as they stood here on this shattered plain--that he might still be in danger from this man, this grieving warrior who was also his friend.

  Bayre’s arms hung limply at his sides. He made no movement towards Aram, just stood there, a fly trapped in amber.

  Bina’s voice broke the silence. “Well, I’ll tell you something, Aram didn’t just defeat the king. He saved every Veldera that’s still alive. We were dying and he poured his own power into us and brought us back.”

  “I saw it happen,” said Bayre softly. “The age rolled off those still alive and they came back to themselves. It was a miracle.”

  “So, don’t try and tell me this boy, my friend and yours, is going to turn into some power-crazed dictator. His first thought was for the people he could help. So, if you try to touch one hair on his head, you’ll have to go through me first.”

  The Saanen leader stepped forwards. Bina twisted to look at him as he spoke directly to her mind. Then she said, “The Saanen says the radix only accepted Aram as its avatar because he has no desire for power. Men like the vulture king are turned away because of the risk they pose to the world. But Aram was prepared to sacrifice himself to change the world. I think that speaks for itself, don’t you Bayre?”

  The older man took two swift steps towards Aram. Before the boy had time to think or to make any move to defend himself, he was engulfed in a bear hug. Tentatively he wrapped his arms around Bayre, and they stood there for long minutes. Aram felt a spreading warmth on his shoulder and he realised the older man was weeping.

  Finally, Bayre stepped back and drew in a shaky breath. “Well, we’d better get on with things, hadn’t we? There’s a lot to do and someone’s going to have to take the lead.”

  He hesitated for just a moment, but Aram said, “You’re the best man for that, Bayre. People will listen to you.”

  The old man nodded, then marched off and almost immediately began shouting orders. Kraal folk, Shrouds and Veldera, who had all been looking dazed and lost, sprang into action.

  The Saanen leader inclined a head to Aram. “We’ll be leaving now,” said the voice in his mind, “Our task here is complete but you know where to find us, Aram. You will always be welcome.”

  “What about the power I have now? How do I shut off my connection to the radix?”

  The creature chuckled, “You don’t; you will always be able to access it now. It will be up to you to decide when and if it is ever necessary.”

  Aram wasn’t sure he liked that answer. It seemed an awfully big responsibility. How could he trust himself to use it wisely? But then Bina’s hand crept into his and he knew he wouldn’t have to make his choices alone. He had friends who had stood by him through the worst of times and never faltered. In a moment of blinding clarity, he knew that he never needed to fear being abandoned again. The world had changed and somehow, he had altered with it. It brought comfort and a fierce joy as they stood there together. The clouds above their heads parted and sunlight poured down onto the plains. They both lifted their faces to the warm rays and clear blue sky above. It was both a blessing and a promise, that a better world could truly be.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The following day passed in a blur for Aram. There were plans to be made and people to be settled, but he just couldn’t seem to care much about any of it. All he saw every time he closed his eyes to rest was Tai’s face right at the end--the confusion and despair he had read there. To make it worse, Bina didn’t seem at all distressed by the role she played in the king’s death. He wondered whether something inside him was broken. He was a defective clock that didn’t keep time quite like other people--always stuck on midnight when everyone else basked in midday sunshine. Wandering through the camp, he saw Sten and his mother kneeling on the ground. Briefly, joy and relief surged up inside him until he noticed the tears on both their faces. They were kneeling next to a body. Moving slightly, he saw it was the man who had sat with them the night before the battle. Aram realised the dead man must be Sten’s father. His heart dropped like a stone to his stomach. So much grief, so much loss. It was everywhere that he looked. A sense of isolation began to creep back over him, a numbing blanket that closed him off from everyone around him.

  Finally, Bina came to sit next to him where he was slumped against a rock. Love hopped down her arm and perched on her extended forefinger. Aram reached up to stroke his magpie’s head. The bird had ridden on his shoulder all day, a sombre mourner at a funeral.

  “Come along now, Aram, enough with acting the thundercloud. Today is a day for happiness, truly.”

  Aram burst out, “
How is it possible anything is making you happy? I mean after what happened yesterday, what we did?”

  Bina closed her eyes and lifted her face towards the gentle sunlight. The day had dawned clear and bright, the first cloudless dawn in centuries.

  “How can you feel the light on your face and not be filled with joy? You really do over-think everything, Aram. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You rid the world of a great evil and yet here you sit brooding. I sometimes wonder if you actually want to be happy.”

  Her blue eyes regarded him steadily. “It’s a tragedy so many people had to die, that Tai had to die. Because even though you hated him, he was a victim of the king’s too. He was desperate and it drove him to do foolish things. But I don’t regret for one second what I did. The world is a better place than it was yesterday, even though it came at a terrible price.”

  Her words were true, yet he still sat there, his heart a leaden stone in his chest. He thought of his mother and what she’d had to endure. The pain of losing her a second time was as sharp as the first. Perhaps worse because of the brief taste of hope he’d been allowed.

  “But so many innocent people died. They should also be here to taste freedom,” said Aram, trying to put the shape of his sorrow into words.

  “Innocent people have been dying in the Carrionlands for centuries now. Perhaps today is the first day that somebody won’t. Every one of the people who fought here yesterday did so in the hope that Alaiya would rise again. That good could triumph over evil. If you think any of them would have chosen differently, even if they knew they were going to die, you’re wrong.”