Page 73 of The Neverfear

‘We have a question for you,’ said the lion head.

‘It’s a would-you-rather,’ said the goat head, as the chimaera leaped down from the piano and stalked towards her.

‘Would you rather be bitten by a ssssnake, a lion or a goat?’ said the snake. ‘I think the sssnake would be mossst dignified.’

‘We won’t kill you,’ said the lion.

‘Just a little nibble,’ said the goat.

‘Get back, freak!’ said the woman. ‘Where’s the baby?’

‘That’s not an answer to the question,’ said the lion.

‘Sssssso …’

‘It’ll have to be …’

‘All three.’

The phoenix’s cry soared through the palace.

The lion’s roar echoed down the corridor as the last three men came running into the banqueting hall, Darius at their head. The other two followed – the younger one, thickset with a large mole on his neck, was visibly shaking now. The older man, tall and grizzled, scowled at the room as he entered.

Darius looked around. There were long tables and chairs, a sculpture of a tortoise shell that nearly filled the fireplace and a hatch that led to the buttery for serving.

‘Ricardo,’ said Darius to the younger man, ‘check the hatch. Karl, check the curtains.’

Ricardo moved to open the hatch – and then he reared backwards. An army of ratatoskas, Ratwin bounding at their head, erupted from it.

‘Go forth!’ cried Ratwin. Her hornless head lifted in delight. ‘Chaos and mayhems! Fors the Immortals! Fors Glimt! Fors Christophers!’

The small green horns stabbed and swung as the squirrels swarmed over all three men. Darius lunged for the door, slashing at the creatures with his sword, followed by Karl. The door slammed behind them as Ricardo stumbled backwards into the fireplace, landing on the back of the tortoise sculpture.

The sculpture moved. The sculpture smiled. The sculpture’s back erupted suddenly with spikes.

Ricardo screamed, rolling on the floor, both hands clapped to his bleeding behind. ‘My arse! It spiked me in the arse!’

The terasque seized the man’s neck in his mouth, and prepared to bite down. Christopher darted out from hiding.

‘Stop!’ He turned to the terasque and met its old, heavy-lidded eyes. He felt the Light course through him, and though it shook his body the golden surge gave him strength.

‘You’ll kill him!’ he said. ‘We agreed: no death.’ The terasque, very reluctantly, relinquished Ricardo’s neck. The man was barely conscious, but Christopher bent over him. ‘Ricardo! The ratatoskas are going to tie your hands and feet,’ he said. ‘If you try to move, the terasque will eat you. Ratwin, have at him.’

Christopher tried to listen over the drumbeat of his own heart. He ran back towards the Great Hall, following the sound of the bandits’ footsteps.

Karl was standing in the middle of the hall. As Christopher entered, he whipped round. He carried a sheathed sword, short and broad and heavy. Christopher glanced upwards, up at the balcony, where a shadow was moving into position.

‘Boy!’ said Karl. ‘Where’s the child? Give us the kid, and all of this is over.’

‘You won’t find him,’ said Christopher. He walked backwards, trying to draw the man towards him.

‘You don’t know who you’re playing with,’ said Karl. ‘Astor Morax is not an ordinary man. Just hand over the Immortal. Or you all die, and there’s no need for that.’

Christopher kept backing up. The man drew his sword. He was eight feet away.

‘What none of you understands,’ said Christopher, ‘is that some things are worth dying for. The Immortal taught me that.’

Karl stood directly under the railings of the balcony. The light glinted on the blade of his sword as he raised it.