The Lost Castle by Michael Pryor

Author:Michael Pryor [Michael Pryor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781864712551
Publisher: Random House Australia

Thirteen

The cave mouth belched smoke and cascades of molten rock. Heat splashed on Adalon's face and he could also feel the heat in the rocks they were climbing over. He wished for gloves.

Wiping his face, coughing and spitting ash from his mouth, he turned to check the progress of their pursuers. The rock beneath his feet shifted and, as he caught his balance, something flashed into his vision. With Clawed One speed, he jerked back and an arrow shattered on the rock next to him. He peered through the smoke and orange light and saw figures clambering up the slope. 'They're almost upon us!' he cried. 'Targesh, to me! Sim, do you have any arrows left?'

Simangee seized his shoulder. She shook her head and jabbed a claw at the cave mouth. 'We must go! We have little time!'

Another arrow struck at his feet. He put a hand to the hilt of his sword, but Simangee refused to let him draw it.

He looked at her. She stared back with eyes that were rimmed with red. Was something lurking behind them? A shadow?

Targesh put a hand on Adalon's shoulder. 'Trust her.'

All was still for an instant, and in that time Adalon realised that trust was what bound all three of them together. If he couldn't trust Targesh and Simangee, who could he rely on? 'We are with you, Simangee,' he said.

Shouts and cries came from their pursuers. Adalon shepherded Simangee ahead of him. Targesh followed close behind.

Avoiding the river of molten rock that coursed from the cave mouth, Simangee scrambled over a fall of rubble at the entrance. Adalon went next, hissing at the hot rock beneath his hands. He held his tail high to stop it being burned. Inside the cave, a path by the side of the wall led them upwards, until they were looking down on the river of fire. He choked on the smoke and fumes, and, with tears in his eyes, looked around at the cave that stretched out in front of them.

Simangee hurried forward along the narrow, broken path. Adalon ran his hand against the smooth rock walls and realised that the cave had become a tunnel. The walls were almost glassy and reflected the red glow of the river of fire.

As they followed Simangee, Adalon felt the heat wrapping them up like a blanket. He felt it through the soles of his feet. A huge chuffing noise came from the river of fire to their left, echoing along the tunnel. Simangee looked back, wide-eyed, and waved them onwards.

Voices came from behind, hunting cries and screams rising over the noise. A roar of triumph went up, the grating, growling roar of a Toothed One, a roar that sounded down the ages from when the world was new. It made Adalon stop, stiffening in place. Small, he felt small, helpless and doomed. He was prey, and prey only existed to be eaten. He had no chance, no hope, nothing . . .

'Move,' Targesh grunted. He nudged Adalon with a horn, pricking his shoulder.

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