Eagle's Path

1. Flight-1

1. Flight Iolair swooped down over the trees and Aiden clung to her feathers, the wind whipping through him, stealing his breath. He marvelled at the hugeness of the sky, the horizon stretching away for miles. The mountainside raced below them, the jagged tops of the pines giving way to bare stone cliffs. So little time had passed since the morning, yet it felt like days since he had made the steep ascent to the fortress of Cairn Ban, climbing in through the tumbledown stone.

So much had happened. He had almost died.

“Aiden, what’s going on?” said Iolair. “Where’s Falkor?”

“Falkor? I... I don’t know.” Aiden’s mind flashed back to the last time he had seen the wizard, bright runes flying between him and Dageny. “He stayed behind to fight Dageny, to let the rest of us escape.”

“The rest of you?” said Iolair. The confusion in her voice sent a wave of terror through Aiden’s body. She had no idea who he was talking about. Which meant she had not seen the Eagle Riders. Which meant...

“The Eagle Riders,” said Aiden desperately. “Haven’t you seen them?” “Seen them? No,” said Iolair. “The only friendly person I’ve seen is you.” “And Erin?” Aiden asked, her name tasting bitter in his mouth.

“Isn’t she back at camp?” said Iolair.

A snort of laughter escaped Aiden’s lips. “No. She followed me in. And stupidly, I let her.”The thoughts he had been holding back came crashing in on him. He had unwittingly led the Princess of Teraan into the midst of danger. He remembered Arthur’s anger and disappointment, Erin’s voice echoing, he doesn’t know, and then Falkor’s judgment, How can I trust you... How do I know you’re not Brathadair?

“Aiden, it’s not your fault,” said Iolair, her voice soft.

“No?” said Aiden. “Because I didn’t know who she was? According to Falkor that doesn’t excuse it.”

“What do you mean?” said Iolair.

Aiden halted in his tirade of angry thoughts. “Did you know Erin was Princess Serineth?”

“The Princess?” said Iolair, her beak snapping at the words. “No.”

So Aiden was not the only one who had been deceived.

They continued in silence, Iolair flying low over their campsite from the night before. Apart from the horses under the trees and the small bundle of bags tucked in between the boulders, the place was empty.

“They must still be inside the fortress,” said Aiden, his voice tight. “We have to go back.”

“We will,” said Iolair, with a screech. Aiden felt her shift beneath him, her wings flexing and cutting into the wind as she turned back towards Cairn Ban.

The fortress perched at the top of a jutting crag, the battlements rising seamlessly from the steep face of the cliff. It was almost inaccessible except for the single winding road leading up from the forest. Inside, rubble lay strewn between ruinous buildings, yet with the veil of dark magic now lifted, the newly built lookouts and fortifications of the Brathadair were clear to see. As they neared, Aiden spied movement at the gates at the top of the mountain road.

“It’s them,” he cried, pointing. His balance shifted and he tipped forward, his stomach lurching. A dizzying glimpse of the ground below filled his vision. His hands scrabbled through thin air until he caught a handful of feathers, jerking to a halt.

Iolair screeched. “Careful, Aiden!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, clinging to her as he righted himself. His heart beat double time.

Iolair swooped lower, those on the road below lifting their heads, shading their eyes against the bright sky. It was Leif and Maire, and between them, Erin. A short distance behind them the Riders, Arthur, Sigurd, Svana, and Astrith, fought hand to hand with a group of Brathadair soldiers.

“I hope you have a weapon,” Iolair said.

Aiden clutched at his belt. “I have my sword.”

“Well, I’m about to charge them,” said Iolair, tucking her wings closer to her sides.

With one hand still buried in Iolair’s feathers, Aiden clumsily drew his sword, holding the blade as high as he could. Iolair did not slow. She flew straight as an arrow towards those fighting at the gate. At the last moment she spread her wings wide, her claws extending. Aiden gripped tight with his knees, his muscles straining as he tried to keep his balance.

The Riders jumped to the side as Iolair dived towards them. Her talons tore into one of the Brathadair, lifting him off his feet. Aiden leaned over, trying to hit another with his sword. His balance shifted again, and he frantically flattened himself against Iolair’s back. The sword slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground with a clang. Iolair twisted, trying to right herself as the Brathadair soldier knocked her one way, while Aiden pulled her the other. She beat her wings furiously and rose back into the sky.

“You don’t make it easy, do you,” she said.

Trembling, Aiden clutched her feathers. “I lost my sword.”

Iolair circled above the fight. The wind ruffled her feathers, catching on a few that had been misplaced in the attack. Her head flicked back and forth, her yellow eyes intent on the battle below.

On the ground Arthur lunged at the soldiers, landing a heavy blow that sent one of the Brathadair staggering backwards. Sigurd sliced at another, once, twice, three times in quick succession. The Brathadair soldier dropped, unmoving. Sigurd picked something up and held it aloft, shouting, “Aiden.”

The glint of Eadha on the steel blade caught Aiden’s eye. It was his sword.

“Are you ready?” said Iolair, banking into the wind and angling back towards the fight.

Aiden tucked his knees tight against Iolair’s sides and grabbed a handful of feathers. Iolair swooped low, although not as fast as her initial charge. Suddenly, Aiden realised she was not heading towards the fight, but towards Sigurd, who still held the sword, hilt first to the sky. Aiden gulped. They wanted him to grab it mid air.

There was no time to protest. Aiden leaned to the right, letting his head and shoulders dip down through the gap between Iolair’s head and wing. Iolair blinked at him, her eye almost level with his own.

“Don’t miss and don’t fall,” she said.

Aiden gave a stuttering laugh. “No pressure then.”

With a roar, the Brathadair charged, Arthur, Astrith, and Svana rising to meet them, the clang of metal echoing off the stony cliffs.

“Quick!” Sigurd shouted, glancing over his shoulder, his body poised to move. Behind him, a Brathadair soldier knocked Svana to the ground.

Aiden reached down, palm open. He blocked out the noise of the fight and fixed his gaze on Sigurd’s raised arm. The sword seemed to rush towards him, swaying dangerously above the fray. He stretched out his hand and his fingers closed around the hilt. Instantly Iolair wheeled up and, with a great gust of wind, shot forwards towards Svana. Her talons ripped through the soldier attacking her. Aiden pulled himself up and drew in a shaky breath.

Iolair circled back to the Riders. “Get out of here,” she cried. “Aiden and I will cover you.”

Arthur grunted, pushing back a soldier. “Where’s Serineth?” he shouted up to them.

Iolair circled again, and Aiden craned his neck, eyes scanning the mountain road. Three figures dwindled away ahead of them. Iolair swooped back to the Eagle Rider Captain.

“She’s almost at the trees,” Aiden called.

“Good,” said Arthur, turning back to their enemy. “Now, to finish this.”

There were ten of the Brathadair left, although Aiden had no idea how many more were still skulking in the halls of the fortress. The soldiers had pulled back slightly after Iolair’s assault, but were quickly regrouping. Their Sergeant stood at the centre of the line, sword in one hand, the glow of a rune in the other. He smirked, his eyes glinting a challenge. The rest of the Brathadair raised more runes in their hands.

Arthur shifted his stance, planting his feet firmly beneath him. He lifted his chin proudly. “We have been their captives for so long, they forget we are Eagle Riders.” Arthur drew a combination of runes, Nuin, the spear, Peith, the thunderbolt, and Uath, dread.

The Captain of the Eagle Riders raised his hand, runelight shining around it, and threw it forwards, releasing the runes. They jumped and arced across the distance, beautiful beams of gold and silver. Beautiful, but deadly. The Brathadair Sergeant leapt backwards, but the soldier nearest to him was not so lucky. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

After the initial shot, the Brathadair retaliated, throwing their runes in unison towards the Eagle Riders. Arthur, Astrith, Sigurd, and Svana moved as one, jointly wielding Fearn, the shield. A golden sphere shimmered around them. The first of the runes bounced harmlessly away, but as the onslaught continued, the glowing shield surrounding them began to wane.

Iolair swooped low towards the Brathadair.This time instead of trying to wield his sword, Aiden drew Peith, the thunderbolt, and Teine, fire, cupping their shining forms in his hand until they were close. Iolair crashed into the Brathadair line, her talons ripping through anything she could catch. Aiden leaned close against her feathers, knuckles whitening as he fought to keep his place on her back, trying not to lose the runes he had drawn. Finally Iolair lifted up again, and Aiden reached out, shooting the runes past her wings. Peith and Teine thundered down, bursting into flames as they hit the ground by the Brathadair’s feet.

Aiden grinned shakily as the Brathadair staggered back. Iolair circled around to the Eagle Riders, but as they approached, the Riders’ shield dropped, Svana falling down onto one knee, holding a hand to her head. The others lifted their hands, as if shielding their eyes from a bright light. Aiden frowned. What was wrong? They were Eagle Riders. Even outnumbered this should not be a hard fight for them. Theirs was the most powerful magic in the kingdom. Unless...

The Brathadair had caught the Eagle Riders before. They had subdued their power once, maybe they could do it again.

Arthur stepped to the fore and sent another rune shooting towards the Brathadair leader. The Sergeant dodged, but this time he dodged forwards, in the same motion drawing a rune of his own. The rune flickered angrily, not the weak flickering of a dying candle, but the unsettled flickering of an immense power trying to break free from its bonds. Every few seconds sharp sparks burst into the air. The rune looked like Nuin, the spear, but there was something off about it, like it had been drawn through a haze of murky water with the lines all wrong. Aiden’s stomach roiled. It reminded him of the heavy chains that had held him captive in the fortress.

Arthur drew Nuin, the spear, and sent it shooting forwards at the same moment the Sergeant released his own rune, a brittle, sparking ball of light. The two runes collided, drawn together by some unseen force.

For a moment time stopped.The runes crackled against each other momentarily before popping out of existence. An empty silence fell, as if all sound had been sucked into the runes. As Aiden’s ears began ringing, a blinding light burst from the spot where the runes had been, consuming everything in a wave of white. Seconds later, though it could have been hours, a gust of hot wind swept out in all directions, knocking down any who stood in its path.

It blew Iolair backwards, her wings straining to keep them upright. Below, the Eagle Riders fell to the ground, their tattered clothes flapping around them. The Brathadair were knocked back in the other direction. Their Sergeant, who had been closest to the blast, slammed into the verge of the road and did not move again.

In the wake of the blast, Aiden’s mind reeled. What was this magic? How had Nuin, the spear, caused such an explosion? Never before had he feared the runes, but now unease stirred in his chest.

Iolair circled over their fallen enemies. Most lay still, unconscious or dead, Aiden could not be sure. Only one or two groaned and rolled over, attempting to shuffle away as Iolair’s shadow passed over them. Aiden leaned forward, holding his breath as they drew close to the Riders.