Call to War by Adam Blade Page A

chaos he’d hoped for. But Gor had survived. He stood with his feet braced in the center of the men.
    â€œGet up, you fools!” he shouted. He glanced over his shoulder at a fresh group of soldiers with spears and pikes, bringing up the rear. Varlot was among them. He’d grown huge, his enormous bronze hooves splashing through the mud. His face looked more human than ever and his armor shone. He looked unstoppable.
    â€œCome on, quickly!” Gor called.
    Soldiers poured into the courtyard, but Tanner and his friends were already making their way up to the tower. He took his place beside Firepos and watched the rainwater pelt the soldiers’ black armor, dripping from their weapons and stinking, slavering varkules. Varlot was among them, moving quickly. He appeared beside the tower, his face grotesquely human, followed by the rest of the army led by Gor. Tanner spotted the blue tunics of Hartwell villagers amongst the soldiers. So they’ve joined forces. He shouldn’t have been surprised — there had been so much hate in that village. Amazingly, none of them had spotted Tanner and his friends creeping into the tower. They still had the element of surprise.
    Varlot came closer, but his hooves slipped and struggled to find a hold on the rocky terrain. He stumbled to one side, his massive chest heaving beneath his armor. He sent out a curse of frustration. Tanner could see him panting with the effort. It was just as Tanner had planned: Varlot was at a disadvantage on the sheer mountainside.
    Gwen and Rufus mounted their Beasts, but Castor still stood beside Tanner. “If you mess this up for us …” He didn’t finish the sentence.
    â€œWe won’t lose, I promise you,” Tanner said, avoiding looking at Castor. He didn’t want Castor to see the passion for battle in his eyes — a lust brought to him through drinking Firepos’s blood and made even stronger since wearing the mask. Tanner didn’t want Castor or Gwen to discover what had happened to him, though he suspected Rufus already knew. That boy … there was more to him than naive, clumsy magic.
    â€œFan out!” they heard Gor shout. “Search the castle — you, into the caves! That boy has a piece of the mask. He’s taunting me, bringing us here! A reward to the one who finds him!” Gor threw Varlot a glance. “Keep up!”
    Castor clasped Tanner’s shoulder. “Lead us, Tanner.” His mocking tone had melted away. Even Castor recognized what Tanner felt in his heart — he’d never been more ready to lead them into battle.
    Tanner climbed onto Firepos’s back. Nera flexed her legs, rippling with muscles, while Gulkien ground his fangs, his leathery wings poised and ready. Even Falkor seemed to be watching Tanner, eager for the fight, with Rufus on his muscular back. Tanner ran his hand along Firepos’s shimmering feathers. Water sizzled in steam-bursts as it hit Firepos. More soldiers climbed over the broken wall into the courtyard below. Through the slit windows, Tanner could see that they were armed with narrow swords, crossbows, and spears.
    â€œFind him!” Gor shouted. “If I don’t find that mask, the piece he was using, I will make a new mask out of your skins!”
    Tanner looked at his friends, then drew his sword. He felt Firepos’s heartbeat quicken, and her feathers flared yellow-orange, brilliant and beautiful.
    â€œWe’re with you,” Gwen said, her face pale.
    A dim blue light started in Rufus’s fingertips. Steam rose from his hands, sizzling the rain. “I’m ready,” he said.
    Tanner pressed Firepos’s feathers, and as she rose, he raised his sword and cried, “Now!”

I surge over the ruined lip of the tower and open my wings. As I scream and drop into the courtyard, the soldiers’ varkules rear back, snapping their fangs in the cold rain. Their leader, General Gor, knocks his