The Dark Rider

CHAPTER Seventeen



Neil blinked, trying to shake the bright after flashes of red and orange from his retinas, the image of the strange warrior still clear in his mind as if he was standing in front of him. Vicky began to struggle against his protective hold, and he released his grip, letting her push away from him and look around. Everything was deathly quiet. There were no flashing white lights, no roaring wind whipping at them and, as Neil’s eyes adjusted back to the moonlight, no sign of the girl who had been right next to them.

“She’s gone,” he said scrabbling around on his hands and knees, feeling in every shadowed hollow for a sign of her.

“That’s not possible,” replied Vicky.

Neil stopped his frantic searching, realization dawning on him. “He took her,” he said.

“Who? Who took her?” asked Vicky.

“You didn’t see it,” he said. “There was a big ball of light and in it a mad-looking man and he looked straight at me like he knew I was there and then she was gone.”

“This is real magic isn’t it?” said Vicky. “People say it doesn’t exist but it does.”

As she finished speaking they heard a groaning originating from a darker mass of shadow a few meters away. Both children froze.

“What was that?” whispered Vicky.

“I don’t know,” said Neil.

The groaning came again and the shadow moved, making them jump.

“It’s him, the man with the dogs. The animals attacked him,” cried Vicky.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Neil jumping upright.

Vicky pulled at his sleeve.

“We can’t just leave him.”

“Why not?” said Neil looking over at the now growing dark shape. “Look, he’s getting up. He’ll see us and then what?”

“What if he’s injured?”

“Please,” groaned the man, his head raised towards them. Vicky’s stomach lurched as moonlight illuminated his face which was now covered in dark lines of blood. Then he collapsed onto his back and lay still.

“We have to help him,” insisted Vicky. Steeling herself she went over to the man and crouched down just as Neil called desperately after her.

“What if it’s a trap?”

She turned to look at him.

“His face is totally cut up. I don’t think he’s in any state to do anything other than groan.”

She turned back to the man as Neil reluctantly came and knelt beside her. They looked closely at him seeing the wounds. Beyond that they saw a craggy face lined with deep furrows and creases, saggy skin lining the thick bone structure. His hair was in disarray, a greasy-looking mass of long dark strands now clinging to his face, the rest lying as a dishevelled mass atop his head. As they crouched next to him his eyes snapped open and a hand shot out and grabbed Vicky’s arm making her scream. Neil pushed against him but his grip was like iron.

“Hey!” cried out Neil. “Let her go.”

The man pulled Vicky towards him.

“Where did you find it?” he hissed at her.

Out of the corner of her eye Vicky could see the key dangling in full view from her neck.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“Give it to me.”

He released his grip on her arm and made a grab for the key but Neil was quicker, his hand flashing forward and pulling the key from around his sister’s neck. He jumped up and backed away.

“If you want it, you’ll have to get it off me.”

With a growl the man rolled over and pushed himself up, towering above them.

“Stupid child.”

Before Vicky could react he had reached down and grabbed her arm again jerking her upright. Her scream was cut short by the big, grimy hand that the man clamped around her mouth. The other hand pulled her arm straight behind her and twisted it hard, sending sharp stabbing pains up her arm. Neil looked on in shock as his sister’s terrified eyes stared back at him.

“Give me the key or I break her arm,” the man growled.

“Let her go,” cried Neil.

The man tightened his grip, letting Vicky’s cry escape from between his fingers.

“The key,” he demanded.

Neil stepped forward. Nothing was worth this. He got as close as he dared to the man and reached out, the key sitting in his open hand. The man’s eyes glinted manically as they rested on Neil’s outstretched palm. He took his hand away from Vicky’s mouth and leaned forward.

“No,” cried Vicky.

A sudden frenzy of barking sounded out behind them, and the man turned his head in surprise. Crashing out of the heather a full grown male fox leapt up, its jaws sinking into the man’s leg. Roaring in pain, he let go of Vicky and turned, swiping at the animal with his fist and catching it on its flanks. Yelping in pain the fox was sent flying through the air.

Vicky stumbled and fell, her hand falling on something hard. Looking down she saw a notebook half lying in the mud. Instinctively she grabbed it with one hand.

“Run,” shouted Neil.

The man spun round and with a roar grabbed at Vicky’s leg but she was too quick for him. Scrambling forward she pushed herself up and was away, sprinting across the heather as fast as she could. Neil leapt after her. Recovering his wits the man followed, big strides covering the ground easily, but after a few steps he sank to the ground. The pain from the fox bite was too intense to carry on.

“This isn’t over,” he yelled after them. “I’ll find you. Then you’ll be sorry.”

Cursing, he staggered upright and hobbled back the way he had come. After a few steps he began to pat his pockets. His notebook was gone. It must have fallen out somewhere. He fell to his knees patting the ground in desperation in an increasing arc but he found no trace of it. Then he stopped, the image suddenly strong in his mind. As the girl had run off she had been holding something in her hand. It was only now that he realized what it had been. His eyes narrowed as he stared across the moorland towards the horizon. In the moonlight he could just make out the lights of the cottage sitting among the trees.


*****


Falk ran as hard as he could, the noise of battle soon dissipating through the trees until he heard nothing but the sound of his feet crunching lightly on the ground and his own rapid breathing. He moved on quickly, despite the weight of Nicola’s body over his shoulders. He was desperate to get far enough away so that when he took them both into the world above the magic trace would be undetectable.

Suddenly an intense burst of pain shot out across the stream of power. A raw outpouring of surprise and anguish that ended abruptly to be replaced by a vacuum of energy that tore across the remaining void. Falk stumbled to his knees as the rent seared through his mind and became a throbbing pain in his temples. Gasping he reached forward with his free hand, steadying himself against the ground. He stared down in disbelief, paralyzed by the weight of the knowledge that he now had to face, for such a wild surge of power could only mean one thing.

Gwen was dead.

The Rider had betrayed them, and now it had killed her.

A rage began to rise from deep within him, a burning desire for revenge. He breathed deeply and hard, steadying himself for he had to focus. He could sense the Rider still in the clearing and something else. It was growing more intense with every moment, a pit of tainted magic that could mean only one thing.

Myrkur was coming.

Dark fear enveloped Falk’s mind for there was nothing he could do against Myrkur”s power. Rising to his feet he opened himself to the power, embracing specific weaves of energy, and his form and Nicola’s shimmered and then disappeared.