shouted them aloud. Flowing through him. Giving him strength.
“Now!” Fallow cried. “Now I show you three traitors who nearly escaped, because a vain and foolish creature, bloated with pride, thinking to be my rival, put his own secret plans into action while I was — occupied with other important duties.”
Grinning, he snatched off Jasmine’s hood. Then Barda’s. But when he saw Doom, the grin vanished. He took a step back, his face a mixture of fear and rage.
Wait …
Leif saw his father turn, look at Doom. He saw his father’s eyes light with mingled joy and pain. Saw him stretch out a trembling hand to his boyhood friend.
And saw Doom staring back, his ravaged face suddenly blazing with consciousness, with memory. Then turning this way and that, looking around him, searching urgently for someone he could not find.
Searching for me.
“You fools!” Fallow hissed savagely to the Guards who had brought the prisoners. “This is not one of the three! Where is the boy? The boy ?”
The Guards mumbled in confusion and backed away.
Now!
Lief jumped, Kree screeching above his head. He swung outward, then let go of the rope and landed just beyond Jasmine, stumbling, then regaining his feet. He lunged for her, the Belt in his hand. He saw her face, wild-eyed with shock, heard Barda shouting, the crowd roaring, Fallow screaming to the Guards. And from the tower, a cry of rage that pierced his flesh, melted his bones, forced him to his knees.
Lightning cracked the boiling sky, streaking towards him. He threw himself aside, rolling, stunned, as it struck the place where he had been kneeling. With the shriek of splitting wood, the front of the platform collapsed as though a giant had smashed it with a mighty fist. Its two halves tipped towards one anotherlike giant slides, and the nearest Guards toppled, scrambling, shrieking, into the yawning gap between, white hot coals spilling after them.
Lightning flashed again, and again. Roaring thunder shook the trembling earth. And out of the thunder swooped the seven Ak-Baba, their unearthly, wailing cries chilling the blood.
Lief clung desperately to the tilting boards. The crowd was screaming now, screaming to him …
But Fallow — Fallow had him. Fallow’s icy hand was on his neck, wrenching him upward. The hated, writhing face was close to his, lips drawn back in a snarl of triumph as Lief struggled to draw his sword.
Then, abruptly, the face jerked backwards, eyes bulging. Lief was hurled backwards once more as the icy hand loosened, flew to the thin throat, and clawed desperately at the strangling chains biting deeply into the flesh.
Did Fallow know who had seized him? Did he know who were behind him now, using the last of their strength to heave him, choking, away from his prey?
The ones he had thought too broken to be a threat. Whose chains he had dropped without a thought.
“Father! Mother! Beware!” Lief screamed, clawing his way up the slope towards them. Fallow was feeling for his dagger. He had found it! Lief lunged forward.
“No, Lief!” his father cried. “The Belt! You —”
His voice was silenced as Fallow struck. He crumpled and fell. Lief’s mother caught him, and together they crashed onto the groaning boards. She flung out a hand and clutched the edge of the platform to hold them both, her scream lost in the raging of the wind, the shrieking of the Ak-Baba.
Fallow was dragged down with them, caught by the chains wound around his neck. He pulled himself free, writhing on the tipping boards, struggling for breath, struggling to rise. Then he saw the red cone of light sliding slowly towards him. He grabbed for it, seized its base, then saw his danger.
Too late. Slowly, slowly, the cone tipped. Burning white liquid light poured over him, covering him, sizzling, sizzling as he screamed.
There was a roaring, rushing sound above. Lief looked up. Red smoke was gushing from the tower. Red smoke, thick and edged with grey, heavy with
“Now!” Fallow cried. “Now I show you three traitors who nearly escaped, because a vain and foolish creature, bloated with pride, thinking to be my rival, put his own secret plans into action while I was — occupied with other important duties.”
Grinning, he snatched off Jasmine’s hood. Then Barda’s. But when he saw Doom, the grin vanished. He took a step back, his face a mixture of fear and rage.
Wait …
Leif saw his father turn, look at Doom. He saw his father’s eyes light with mingled joy and pain. Saw him stretch out a trembling hand to his boyhood friend.
And saw Doom staring back, his ravaged face suddenly blazing with consciousness, with memory. Then turning this way and that, looking around him, searching urgently for someone he could not find.
Searching for me.
“You fools!” Fallow hissed savagely to the Guards who had brought the prisoners. “This is not one of the three! Where is the boy? The boy ?”
The Guards mumbled in confusion and backed away.
Now!
Lief jumped, Kree screeching above his head. He swung outward, then let go of the rope and landed just beyond Jasmine, stumbling, then regaining his feet. He lunged for her, the Belt in his hand. He saw her face, wild-eyed with shock, heard Barda shouting, the crowd roaring, Fallow screaming to the Guards. And from the tower, a cry of rage that pierced his flesh, melted his bones, forced him to his knees.
Lightning cracked the boiling sky, streaking towards him. He threw himself aside, rolling, stunned, as it struck the place where he had been kneeling. With the shriek of splitting wood, the front of the platform collapsed as though a giant had smashed it with a mighty fist. Its two halves tipped towards one anotherlike giant slides, and the nearest Guards toppled, scrambling, shrieking, into the yawning gap between, white hot coals spilling after them.
Lightning flashed again, and again. Roaring thunder shook the trembling earth. And out of the thunder swooped the seven Ak-Baba, their unearthly, wailing cries chilling the blood.
Lief clung desperately to the tilting boards. The crowd was screaming now, screaming to him …
But Fallow — Fallow had him. Fallow’s icy hand was on his neck, wrenching him upward. The hated, writhing face was close to his, lips drawn back in a snarl of triumph as Lief struggled to draw his sword.
Then, abruptly, the face jerked backwards, eyes bulging. Lief was hurled backwards once more as the icy hand loosened, flew to the thin throat, and clawed desperately at the strangling chains biting deeply into the flesh.
Did Fallow know who had seized him? Did he know who were behind him now, using the last of their strength to heave him, choking, away from his prey?
The ones he had thought too broken to be a threat. Whose chains he had dropped without a thought.
“Father! Mother! Beware!” Lief screamed, clawing his way up the slope towards them. Fallow was feeling for his dagger. He had found it! Lief lunged forward.
“No, Lief!” his father cried. “The Belt! You —”
His voice was silenced as Fallow struck. He crumpled and fell. Lief’s mother caught him, and together they crashed onto the groaning boards. She flung out a hand and clutched the edge of the platform to hold them both, her scream lost in the raging of the wind, the shrieking of the Ak-Baba.
Fallow was dragged down with them, caught by the chains wound around his neck. He pulled himself free, writhing on the tipping boards, struggling for breath, struggling to rise. Then he saw the red cone of light sliding slowly towards him. He grabbed for it, seized its base, then saw his danger.
Too late. Slowly, slowly, the cone tipped. Burning white liquid light poured over him, covering him, sizzling, sizzling as he screamed.
There was a roaring, rushing sound above. Lief looked up. Red smoke was gushing from the tower. Red smoke, thick and edged with grey, heavy with
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