Sculptures That Bite
Christopher darted out of one window and in at another, into the banqueting hall, crouching behind the immense upright clock. Exhaustion was threatening to overtake him and sweat poured down his face as he tried to keep steady the golden threads, but the thought shone: they were winning.
He counted: roc, snapdragon, unicorn, firebirds, longma, kankos. Four left.
He heard doors being flung open: the card room, the silver room. Then the music room.
The chimaera had had a debate with itself about what would be the most attractive way to be discovered, and in the end it had posed on top of the piano, paws together, its three chins cocked winsomely at different angles.
A woman wearing black leather armour and a sneer burst in. She levelled her sword at its torso and edged closer, her eyes searching the corners of the room.
‘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.
‘Come on, boy. Where’s the baby?’
‘Up there,’ said Christopher, and he pointed upwards. ‘Now, Cacafuego! Now!’
On the balcony the bonnacon gave a roar. His melancholic face was transformed with purpose and concentration. It had been very hard for Christopher to reach him, this creature of extravagant oddity, but Cacafuego had understood enough. He had saved his ammunition for this: the crucial moment.
Karl looked up – and as he did the bonnacon unleashed a triumphant cascade of brown slurry on to his upturned face.
It was the greatest moment of the bonnacon’s life.
The man gave a shriek of disgust which turned into a roar of pain as the burning began. He hurtled out of the house and down the lawn, seeking out the blessed relief of the ocean. The phoenix saw him striking out for the mainland, a faint cloud of brown steam arising around him, and gave a cry.
Jacques alighted on Christopher’s shoulder, and gave a small cough of pleasure. ‘Poor mermaids,’ he said. He smiled a dragon smile. ‘Is that all ten?’
Christopher shook his head. ‘Nine. Where’s the red-haired man – where’s Darius?’
Jacques clicked his tongue and took off. ‘I will check on Teren in the library. I put snapdragons on the doorknob, but—’
And then Jacques gave a terrible cry. Darius stood in the Great Hall, and he was smiling.
‘So it’s the door with snapdragons then? Thank you, I’ll go look for that.’ Darius took in the chaos around him. His eyes went to the gilt mirror over the mantelpiece.
Christopher understood in the same moment. He made to dart towards it, to plunge his sword into the glass, but he was too late.
‘Tiger!’ Darius roared. ‘I summon the Tiger in the Mirror!’
The glass throbbed. Its surface quivered. And from the depths of it erupted the creature.
It leaped from the frame and landed almost noiselessly on the flagstones of the Great Hall. It brought with it a stench of blood. It bared its yellow teeth and roared, and the hairs on Christopher’s neck stood on end.
Darius turned and ran, and Christopher was alone with the Tiger.