She slumped forward again, and they flew on together in silence towards Lake Landing as the thin light of dawn rose behind the dark treeline. Or, at least, what the librarian knights of Varis Lodd's depleted squadron took to be the dawn. It was only as they approached the Ironwood Stands and dropped lower to skim over the Great Lake and down to Lake Landing that they realized their mistake.
There was a glow in the sky all right, but it didn't come from the dawn. Instead, a red tinge lit up the drawn and weary faces of the librarian knights as they approached the lake.
‘The Great Library!’ gasped Varis Lodd, raising her arm to signal the following skycraft to hover.
In front of them, on the lake shore opposite Lake Landing, the new library blazed like a lufwood torch. All round it, a mighty goblin army danced and howled as a dozen mighty glade-eaters shot burning logs into the inferno. On the library steps, the bodies of librarians were piled high, their robes smoking as the burning embers of the blazing new library showered down on them.
Varis put her head in her hands. ‘Father, father, father,’ she sobbed.
The librarian knights clustered round, hovering uncertainly, unnerved by their leader's breakdown. But when Varis looked up, her eyes were blazing and her face was a mask of stone.
They haven't got to Lake Landing yet, she signalled. The sight of the Great Library burning has proved too much of an attraction …
Her eyes glinted with a fierce hatred.
Flight Marshal! She turned to Xanth. Take Grey Flight and save the apprentices at Lake Landing, she signalled – and Xanth could tell by the look on her face that it was useless to argue.
And you? he signalled back.
We have the honour of the Great Library to uphold! Varis's hand touched her forehead and then her heart. She turned to the others. Are you with me, librarian knights?
In Centre Flight and Green Flight, all seventy heads nodded as one.
Then follow me!
Varis Lodd fed out a length of rope in a graceful arc, and her spidersilk loft-sail billowed out like an unfurling woodapple blossom. Around her seventy librarian knights did the same and, with a soft sigh, they sped away over the still waters of the Great Lake like silent stormhornets.
Xanth felt a hand on his forearm. It was Magda, tears streaming down her face. ‘Make them come back!’ she sobbed. ‘Xanth, please! Hasn't there been enough useless sacrifice?’
Xanth turned back to her, the old haunted look in his face that she hadn't seen since the Reckoning.
‘Stob Lummus and three hundred apprentices who have never flown before need our help to get to New Undertown. Varis and the squadron have laid down their lives so that we might succeed.’ He gazed into Magda's eyes. ‘A sacrifice, yes, Magda,’ he said softly as the squadron approached the burning library in the distance. ‘But not a useless one!’
• CHAPTER TWENTY •
THE THREE BATTLES
i
The Battle of the Great Library
The following morning, seemingly out of nowhere, an incoming leadwood log smashed into the side of the New Bloodoak Tavern with a great crash!, setting its foundations trembling and opening up a crack that ran from the bottom to the top of the eastern wall. Cleeve Hakenbolt shuddered, the paraphernalia at the front of his heavy sky pirate coat jangling, and gripped his pikestaff with white-knuckled ferocity.
‘That was close,’ said Rickett, the wiry ghost at his side. He peered up anxiously at the wall of the tavern. ‘Another direct hit like that and the whole lot's gonna come crashing down on top of us.’
Cleeve nodded, the expression on his face drawn and sombre. ‘What are they waiting for?’ he snarled, poking his head up over the barricade of hastily constructed drinking troughs and tavern tables. ‘They've got us surrounded. Why don't they attack?’
On the outskirts of New Undertown, the glade-eaters crouched like monstrous fire-bugs, gleaming in the dawn light. Their furnaces sparked and rumbled; their chimneys smoked. Behind them stood a vast mass of symbite goblins – gyle goblins, web-foot, tree and gnokgoblins, together with low-bellies and their lop-eared cousins. They shuffled from foot to foot miserably, and the air was filled with the sounds of their coughing and spluttering.
‘They're softening us up,’ said Rickett, his face appearing next to Cleeve's at the barricade. ‘Using those infernal machines to batter Undertown to pieces, and then … Get down!' he bellowed, as a huge boulder whistled overhead and crashed into a section of the barricades to their left.
Dusting himself down, Rickett saw a couple of sky pirates emerge from the rubble and begin repairing the shattered section of barricade with matter-of-fact efficiency. He turned to Cleeve.
‘It'll take more than a few leadwood logs and boulders to soften you lot up. Tough as old Mire ravens, so you are!’
‘Well said, Rickett, lad,’ the sky pirate smiled. ‘And as for you ghosts, this must seem like a home away from home, what with all this rubble!’
They laughed heartily as they peered over the barricade once more. Just then, there was a soft, whistling hiss from above, followed by a muffled thud. Rickett and Cleeve spun round to see a young ghost in a muglumpskin jacket and bone-armour standing before them. He coiled up the rope he'd just slid down on and tossed it over his shoulder.
‘Care to share the joke, lads?’ he said.
Rickett grinned. ‘Just keeping our spirits up, Felix,’ he said. His face grew more serious. ‘Though Cleeve here was wondering why they haven't attacked yet…’
‘They're firing up their furnaces with fresh lufwood,’ came a voice behind them, and the three of them turned to see Deadbolt Vulpoon striding towards them, with the Professors of Light and Darkness in tow. ‘When they're good and hot, they'll attack all right. And when they do…’
Felix clapped his friend on the back. ‘We'll be ready for them, won't we, Deadbolt!’ he said cheerfully.
‘The sooner the better!’ the sky pirate captain roared, waving a fist in the direction of the goblin army. ‘If they think they can bash the best tavern in Undertown to bits and get away with it, they've got another think coming!’
Felix laughed – but when he saw the expressions on the two professors' faces, he stopped. ‘Forgive me, Professors,’ he said gravely. ‘I see from your faces that the librarian knights have had a difficult night…’
The Professor of Darkness bowed his head to Felix. ‘My squadron covered the retreat from the slaughterer and woodtroll villages. I lost a hundred of my best knights.’
‘And we fought in the northern fringe until we could fight no more,’ added the Professor of Light simply. His white tunic was ragged and stained with blood. ‘I lost more than half my squadron.’
Felix nodded. ‘The population of the Free Glades is safe in the cloddertrog caves, thanks to the heroism of you and your knights,’ he said quietly. ‘Now we must make our stand together – ghosts, sky pirates and librarian knights alike – here in New Undertown!’
At that moment, a flurry of missiles flew overhead and smashed into the surrounding buildings, sending the group ducking for cover.
‘We're all in this together, all right!’ said Deadbolt darkly, spitting dust from his mouth and clambering to his feet. ‘Like oozefish trapped in a barrel…’
A loud whistle cut him short. Felix looked up to see one of his ghosts standing on the upper gantry of the Lufwood Tower, pointing into the distance.
‘Felix! Felix!’ he called down. ‘Over there!’
Felix unhitched his rope and hurled it high above his head, and in an instant, swung up onto the rooftops.
‘That lad,’ said Deadbolt, peering up after him, ‘never stays still for an instant!’ He put his telescope to his right eye.
The professors climbed to their feet and set off for the Lufwood Tower at a run.
‘The third squadron!’ said Deadbolt, focusing the telescope. ‘I wonder what kept them? Hey, Professors!’ He snapped the telescope shut and gave chase. ‘Wait for me!’
/>
At the Lufwood Tower, Felix landed on the gantry with a soft thud and scanned the horizon for himself. Far ahead and low in the sky, was a smudge of tiny specks, dark against the lightening backdrop. As they got closer, he could see that they did indeed form a squadron of skycraft, flying like woodgeese in their familiar V-shaped formation.
‘There you are, sister,’ he murmured. ‘I was beginning to get worried …’ He frowned. Something wasn't quite right. ‘They're all over the place,’ he said.
‘That's just what I was thinking,’ said the Professor of Darkness breathlessly as he climbed up the steps to join Felix, the Professor of Light close on his heels.
There was definitely something wrong with the squadron. Although there was a skycraft clearly leading at the front, followed by ten more in full sail and steady formation, and a sky-marshal darting back and forth bringing up the rear, the vast majority of the skycraft – almost three hundred of them – were wavering about uncertainly, their sails loose and flapping and their hanging flight-weights dragging them off course.
‘Good old Varis. Looks like a full squadron,’ muttered the Professor of Light. ‘No casualties!’ He shook his head. ‘But what is wrong with them?’
‘They're flying like apprentices,’ said the Professor of Darkness. ‘No sail discipline. And look at that flight-marshal. He's having to fly in circles just to keep them together!’
‘Come on, come on!’ Felix urged through clenched teeth.
As the fluttering skycraft came closer, the goblin army gathered round the glade-eaters noticed them. All at once a tremendous volley of flaming arrows and missiles flew up from its ranks towards the skycraft passing overhead. Almost immediately, the sounds of distant screams reached the onlookers in the Lufwood Tower as the goblin missiles found their mark.
Skycraft after skycraft was hit, their sails collapsing and their riders spiralling down to earth.
‘Tack and dive!’ urged the Professor of Light desperately. ‘Pull in the nether-sails for Sky's sake! You're making yourselves easy targets!’
The squadron formation now showed ragged holes as it approached the outskirts of New Undertown and more skycraft were falling with every passing second.
‘Come on, come on,’ Felix muttered grimly. ‘You can make it!’
Below them, the defenders of New Undertown had noticed the incoming flight, and cheers and cries and shouts of encouragement echoed through the air. At the front of the squadron, Felix saw the flight-leader and a tight formation of ten skycraft expertly adjust their sails and prepare to land. They came down silently in the square below the Lufwood Tower to the wild cheering of ghosts and sky pirates – which they ignored. Instead, leaping from their own skycraft, they began signalling urgently to the skycraft straggling behind.
One by one, they came in to land, unsteadily and so lacking in control that most of them slammed down and their riders were thrown from their saddles and tossed ignominiously to the ground. The square was soon thronging with librarian knights, sky pirates and ghosts, all helping the dazed riders back to their feet. Felix swooped down from the gantry and landed in their midst, while the professors hurried down the steps.
‘Varis!’ he cried, rushing towards the flight-leader. ‘Varis! What kept you?’
The flight-leader turned and removed her helmet and goggles. Felix started back, a look of bewilderment on his face.
‘M … Magda?’ he stuttered. ‘Magda Burlix … But where's my sister?’
The Professors of Light and Darkness jostled their way through the crowd in the square to join Felix.
‘But these are apprentices!’ exclaimed the Professor of Light.
‘From Lake Landing,’ interrupted the Professor of Darkness. ‘Sky be praised – we thought we'd lost you!’
‘But where is Varis Lodd's squadron?’
Exhausted, Magda bowed her head, her face ashen white. A tear fell and splashed on her green flight-suit as she struggled to speak.
Stob Lummus, Assistant Master of Lake Landing, climbed from his skycraft and stumbled over. He gestured behind him.
‘Xanth Filatine can tell you best,’ he said. ‘It is thanks to Magda and him, and their brave knights, that we made it this far.’
Felix turned. The last skycraft – that of the flight-marshal – was fluttering in to land. It had stayed airborne until the others had all landed. The carved ratbird prow was studded with goblin arrows; the sails ragged and scorched. Its rider climbed from the saddle and approached. There was blood on his flight-suit.
Xanth bowed solemnly. All round him, the ghosts and sky pirates were barking orders to clear the square and the librarian knights were helping the dazed apprentices to find shelter. Felix stood, completely oblivious to the missiles falling and the shouts to ‘take cover!’. His eyes bore into Xanth's with a savage intensity.
‘Tell me,’ he said.
‘We came down low across the Great Lake, what was left of us after the fight in the southern meadowlands,’ Xanth began, his voice low but steady. ‘That's when we saw it … The Great Library in flames, surrounded by goblin hordes and glade-eaters. It was plain that Lake Landing would be next. So Varis sent Grey Flight – the twelve of us – to save the apprentices, while she …’ His voice faltered.
Felix's eyes never left his. ‘What did she do?’
‘I saw it all,’ said Xanth, ‘from the saddle of the Ratbird as I circled Lake Landing. It was a magnificent battle…’
‘Magnificent?’ said Felix fiercely.
‘Yes,’ said Xanth, his voice now grimly determined. ‘Magnificent. In close formation, skimming the Great Lake, with Varis in front, the squadron charged the Great Library. They hit the shoreline with a murderous volley, the last they had, and then swarmed round the flaming building, ripping burning timbers from it with their flight-ropes, and raining them down on the goblins below. They fought till their sails were aflame and their skycraft were on fire … And then I saw them sail over the dark treetops followed by the enraged goblin hordes.’
Xanth's eyes were blazing now and his voice had risen.
‘They followed them, like woodmoths to a flame, into the Deepwoods and away from Lake Landing until, one by one, I saw the flames go out. Then the goblin army streamed back, past the Great Library and towards Lake Landing. But by that time we'd got the apprentices airborne and were making for New Undertown.’
‘So, my sister is …’ Felix's voice choked.
‘She sacrificed herself and her squadron for the apprentices. Without the Battle of the Great Library, we would never have made it.’
Felix placed a hand on Xanth's shoulder. ‘Varis would have been proud of you, Xanth Filatine,’ he said simply.
The square was almost empty now, the skycraft tethered to mooring-poles beside the Lufwood Tower, and the defenders of New Undertown huddled behind the barricades. Overhead, the missiles continued to fall.
Felix was turning to go when Deadbolt arrived, Fenbrus Lodd at his side. The High Librarian was gesticulating wildly and booming in the sky pirate's ear. Behind them came a motley crowd of under-librarians armed with a mishmash of assorted weapons. Fenbrus stopped in front of Felix and glared round, red-faced with indignation.
‘This sky pirate friend of yours thinks we librarian academics can't fight, Felix! The goblins burnt down our magnificent library, didn't they? Of course we're going to fight! You try and stop us. Tell him, Felix. Go on, tell him!’
Deadbolt rolled his eyes and shrugged.
‘I'm … I'm so sorry, my dear Fenbrus,’ said the Professor of Light, turning away.
‘Such a terrible loss,’ murmured the Professor of Darkness.
‘The Great Library?’ said Fenbrus Lodd. ‘Yes, yes. Time to think about that later. Now we must fight!’
Felix stepped forward. ‘It's Varis, father,’ he said softly.
‘Is she back?’ Fenbrus began.
Felix swallowed. He shook his head. ‘She's not coming back.’
‘You mean …’ s
aid Fenbrus again, his voice little more than a croaking whisper.
‘Yes, father,’ said Felix. ‘Varis is dead.’
Fenbrus let out a small wheezing groan, the sound of a punctured trockbladder-ball losing its air. His beard drooped, the colour drained from his cheeks and it was as if his entire body – the bluster and bombast spent – shrank a little. Felix stepped forward, wrapped his arms round his father and hugged him protectively.
‘She died bravely,’ he said, ‘sacrificing herself for the sake of others…’
Felix could feel his father's body trembling. ‘Gone,’ he heard him sobbing. ‘Everything has gone.’ The next moment, Fenbrus pulled away.
But Felix wouldn't let him go. He took him by the shoulders and stared deep into his eyes.
‘Oh, Felix,’ Fenbrus murmured, ‘the books, the treatises, the barkscrolls. I can take their loss … Fresh young librarian scholars can be sent out to the four corners of the Edgelands. They can gather knowledge and write new books, new treatises, new barkscrolls. And the Great Library …’ He shook his head. ‘So magnificent … I can even stand its loss…’
He sighed. Felix held him tightly.
‘But Varis. My beautiful, brave daughter …’ Tears streamed down his pallid, puffy cheeks. ‘Gone for ever … I don't think I can stand it.’ He tried again to break away, but Felix maintained his grip. ‘How can I go on without her?’ Fenbrus wailed.
Felix looked down, his voice cracked and quavering. ‘You … You've got me, father.’
Fenbrus looked into his son's eyes. ‘You mean.?’
‘Yes,’ said Felix. ‘I shall become a librarian. Together we shall rebuild the Great Library and replace the barkscrolls…’
For a moment, Fenbrus fell still. The next, Felix felt himself being pulled towards his father and wrapped up in his warm, strong embrace.
‘Oh, son,’ he whispered into Felix's ear. ‘My dear, dear boy.’ He pulled his head away and looked deep into Felix's eyes. ‘Do you really think we could do all that?’