never to be underestimated. Not ever. I switched off the warning pains in my head — to be ignored — I stood, spun-kick and hooked the wizard's heel, sending the old man to his back.
Scarfell lay baffled on the peak. 'I…' he gasped; 'I've… never been struck before!'
Before the wizard could stand, I drove my foot deep into his ribcage. 'Get used to it!'
There was a crack of bone and Scarfell rolled to one side. I smashed another foot across his mouth, cutting his lip and spraying his beard with blood. I swung for the hardest blow yet, but completely missed the mark as Scarfell disappeared in a vaporous red puff, leaving me kicking thin air and dropping to my backside.
Instantaneously, Scarfell reappeared on top of me with all his spindly fingers coiled around my neck. And with livid spits of fire and blood, he stormed, 'Dare you!
Heat scorched the outside and insides of my throat. I was being drowned by fire. I reached for the dagger or short sword at my belt, anything, but Scarfell's pressing weight prevented me from grasping them.
'Dare you!'
My clinging fingers searched the snow for a stone to pummel him with.
'Dare you boy!'
My lungs were out of oxygen now, and if one feels the soul ever leave them, this was that moment — my second death. However, before I could transform into a blob of light, my hand found a piece of wood — the flute. I snatched at it and without hesitation, stabbed the wizard's left eyeball. A spurt of jelly burst from the broken socket, and Scarfell was gone in a wail of scarlet spirit; a force that blew me back like a sled on snow, washing me completely off the mountain side.
In free fall, the wind was so strong that it extinguished the fire in my lungs, and even now, in this most perilous situation, I had an option. I would aim to land on my head; break my skull open on a boulder. An instant and hopefully painless way to go. My ears popped from the pressure, and as my doom rapidly increased in detail, I saw the perfect boulder to finish me off. I aimed my head for its edge, and closed my eyes tight.
The moment of impact came and went, yet strangely, I could still feel the winds press against my body. Opening my eyes again, I was still falling, but on the back of a Weather-Maker. My cheek was forced to the horse's neck as Atlas pulled out of an incredible dive. She snorted and I cheered, aiming her nose for the clouds.
***
Only the scattered treetops appeared left on the snowy slope. The avalanche had set like concrete and a breeze danced like ghosts with something to celebrate. Suddenly, four inches of katana steel broke free from the surface to catch the sun's glare. The blade and the hand holding it fought its way out. Desperate and exhausted fingers then dropped that sword. Kat couldn't climb, fight, or reach any higher. This buried man needed help, deliverance, and he got it.
On the back of a wing flapping horse, I pulled the puffy faced samurai, near dead from his grave…
15. Sir Godwin Eddinray
Atlas scuffed her shoes at the bright yellow sand whilst Kat and I pondered the wide and deep blue sea before us. The Leviathan was said to be an angry spirit made of liquid alone, destroying for destruction sake, and hiding somewhere in this stretch of ocean. Bludgeon wrote a tantalising scribble in his book, Predators of the Under Realms.
Forcing the worry to the back of my mind, I laced up my boots after peeling off the blood sticky bandages from my right foot. The healing process was remarkably fast, and although it wasn't a pleasant stump to look at, I could walk a long way on it.
'You ready girl?' I asked Atlas. The horse briskly snorted so I patted her neck. 'She's ready Kat. I'm ready. You?'
The samurai fixed me with that scowl of his, perhaps warning me never to hurry him again. I didn't care; I was in jubilant mood for having overcome so much. I had killed Scarfell with the thrust of a flute; the consequences of that action would free the alphabet women from their village, remove Eternal's curse and reunite her with Bludgeon. The future of the Distinct Earth was brighter thanks to me.
Needless to say, my man of experience was not so sure…
***
Since I was the one who played the flute that tamed the Weather-Maker, I was the only hand Atlas would allow at her reins. Kat pressed his forehead against the shield on my back, either catching a nap or shutting out the thrill. The horse almost tore holes in the sky with her pace, skin endlessly swapping colour with the sea's blue, the sun's afternoon oranges, and making lightning time over the water.
'Are you enjoying it Kat?' I yelled back, embracing the ride of a lifetime on the back of an immortal. 'You've been real quiet!'
He said nothing, but I wouldn't allow his personality to spoil this for me. Hooting, I lowered the horse’s nose for a vertical sprint toward the choppy blue surface. We fell and fell, wind wailing in my ears. I felt Kat's fingers clutch deep into the sides of my ribs — he sure wasn't napping. With a grin, I pulled Atlas out of the dive in time to catch the spray on her hoofs.
'Wahoo!' I cried, smearing the salt water from my eyes. 'It's a shame we can't keep her Kat, don't you think? We could fly directly to the 9th Fortress on this baby!'
'Hello!' A distant voice cried out. 'See me!'
'Hear that?' I asked Kat, but the samurai was already on the lookout.
'Hello!” the male voice repeated. “See me! I am here! Look here!'
'There!' exclaimed Kat, pointing below.
From our great vantage point, we could make out a flashing mirror or twinkling star at one particular point over the ocean. There came another flash at that same location, and I duly aimed Atlas toward the anomaly. Reflections soon became a man, frenziedly waving and jumping on a minuscule piece of land: a raft of some kind. We swooped down and Atlas hovered over the raft for more detail.
'Is that… a knight?' I asked.
It was. A man dressed from head to foot in medieval armour, with jangling beads of mail. Kat was sceptical about approaching the stranger — who waved his long sword like a victory flag — but then Kat wasn't the one in charge of Atlas.
'Ahoy there!' cried the knight, removing his helmet and lowering the long sword. 'Goodness gracious me!' he stumbled. 'What sort of supernatural beasty are you men riding there? Come down here, join me!'
The lanky man had a gaunt face sucked of all fat, thinning hair, a curled moustache under a long nose and a welcoming smile that brought no colour to his cheeks. His body armour was covered in dimples all over, but still a sun attracting silver. Unfortunately, this man's raft was not as striking, made simply from a dozen or so logs poorly strung together with vines. Oddly, the tops of these logs were missing layers of bark, exposing a lighter under- wood.
'Hello!' he said again, catching his breath. 'You have nothing to fear gentlemen! Nothing to fear at all! Pray land, my craft is sea worthy!'
Despite Kat's vigilance, I took pity and set Atlas carefully down on the edge of the raft. The logs bobbled recklessly under the new weight, but the thing remained afloat.
'Hurrah!' the knight declared — his relief unmistakable. 'My, what a beautiful animal! I see it uses stealth to ward off those undesirables. Mightily Impressive! Mightily impressive indeed!'
'Who are you?' I asked, eyeing him over.
'My name is Sir Godwin Eddinray,' he cordially replied, his polite accent similar to Newton's. 'Friend to you, and servant to my queen!'
'Godwin?' I inquired. 'Did you happen to — '
'Eddinray,” he interrupted, “if you please! Only my mother called me Godwin. She survived the black plague, didn't you know. Survival is in my family's blood, and it surges through mine this very day!'
'And who is your queen, Eddinray?'
