Chapter
17
Flyer’s point of view
My jaw dropped open.
The spear went right through Kevin. I felt his hold on me loosen,
and I flapped free and shot straight at Old Quinn, who held me tightly in his
great paws, as if protecting me from the sight of Kevin with a spear protruding
from his chest. Others had stopped fighting in astonishment, waiting to see the
outcome of this monumental moment.
I looked on too, unable to tear my eyes away.
Kevin was gazing down at the spear lodged in him with shock. His
gaze lifted slowly, and I followed it. At the other end of the spear was the
Giant Gecko guard. And there, perched on his shoulder was Knartop.
The sly Valedron sneered at his most defiant enemy.
“Not so quick on your feet now, are you, scum?”
The Gecko guard grinned with malice, pulling the spear out of my
friend with a jolt. Kevin still seemed to be in shock, with a blank expression
and blood covering his hands and bare chest.
But he was still standing!
“Tha’s nae possible!”
Old Quinn whispered in awe, as if reading my mind.
He was right. No creature could take a spear in the chest and last
this long.
Kevin’s breathing was coming in short gasps now. He was losing
precious blood, and looked on the verge of collapse. Yet, I discovered next
that it was not his injury that was causing this reaction.
“You think….. you ….. can kill…. ME?!” Kevin sneered at Knartop.
“I ….am a Soul Creature! Let me
remind you …that we don’t die…. so easily!”
Kevin knocked the probing spear-point aside. Grabbing Knartop’s
throat, he hurled him at the nearest wall. He shot across after the living
missile and caught him as he hit the cavern stone.
“You worthless son of a….” Kevin began, yelling in anger.
He didn’t finish, but proceeded to tear Knartop’s whip out of the
creature’s trembling claws and tied it around his neck. As it became evident
that he was attempting to choke the head guard, two other guards, a Small Gecko
and a Giant Gecko, snapped out of the eerie trance and barged Kevin away from
their cowardly leader.
“YYYYAAAAARRGGHHH!!” Kallur’s war cry echoed through the chamber.
His huge bulk crashed into the two lackeys of Knartop.
This broke everyone out of their mysterious trances. With a
terrible crash of weapons and war cries of both sides, the battle ensued again.
I wanted to join in again; I wanted to find Kevin and help him. Yet, Old Quinn
held me back.
“Nae, young’un!” he shouted over the noise of fighting. “Dain’t go
gettin’ yersel’ killed, yer ken?”
I gave up trying to wriggle out of his claws, and let him carry me
to the back of the chamber for safety.
Kevin’s point of view
I felt my anger surge as the fighting broke out again. Never
before had I been able to really feel the blood rush in my veins, really sense
the adrenaline coursing to every part of my body. I regained my balance, and
once again found myself seeking Knartop. My only aim was to take revenge for
all the suffering that coward had caused to the slaves for his own sick
enjoyment.
I caught a glance of him, being beset by a mob of other Valedrons,
all slaves. I felt a sense of envy and jealousy that they were getting the
honour of avenging the pain from years of torment. I stopped myself in time to
realise that they had suffered for far longer than I had. They had more reason
than I ever would.
Resigned to let them carry out that task, and paying no heed to
the pain of my injury. I charged into the nearest guard to me.
Flyer’s point of view
Hope surged to new levels as we fought our way higher and higher,
gradually getting closer to the surface of the planet, and ultimately, freedom.
I saw Monsoon, Dommur and another of my slave-friends, called
Conyur, race up to a locked door. Conyur was a Small Gecko, but large for his
age. With Dommur’s help, and Monsoon’s encouragement, they broke through the barrier,
and all of us shot outside. Our overwhelming numbers and determination
vanquished the last few guards on the surface. As the last Mine guard fell, we
all let out a huge, roaring, liberating cry.
Skyir, Rembrandt, and Grapper stood high on the nearest boulder.
Skyir joined the celebration, and opened his wings grandly.
“Head and Tail,
Tooth and Claw,
Break our chains,
Freedom once more!” he bellowed the old resistance war cry of hope
and victory, and we all repeated it in our jubilation.
Above ground, the surface was a wasteland. The trees had long
since died, there was little wildlife or water, and the sky was dark and
clouded, but to us it was a utopia. To us it meant freedom. And freedom meant
everything!
We were free!
***
