Chapter Twenty: Fall of the Adder

The Wildcat was frightened. Frightened and bewildered. Definately not a good combination during a middle of a fight.

As for Mo he was in perfect control. Everything was going his way; he knew exactly what was going on, and why. The Wildcat wasn't. He was in no state to fight. Mo struck anyway, ignoring the chaos, all the fire and smoke beginning to envelop the Castle of Night. Screaming people were fighting to get out; at the gates Mo could see that the Black Prince and his men had arrived. Good.

"Afraid, Cat?" Mo taunted the beast. It was a sure way to make him lose control. And make a mistake.

"Shut up, Bluejay," the Wildcat snarled and leapt forward. Mo easily sidestepped him, and with a kick to the back of the knees, he had the Wildcat lying face-down in front of him in the dirt. That was a move the Black Prince had taught him. Mo didn't know much about fighting without weapons, but the Prince had gravely told him that it was very important to learn how. It was far too easy to lose your sword in the midst of battle.

The Cat rolled over onto his back, attempting to get up, but Mo put his knee on his chest, and held him securely in place. "Where are you going? The game's not over yet."

"Please... I didn't mean to try and kill you...I was just... following orders..." in a matter of seconds the Cat had transformed from a raging beast to a sobbing mess of muscle and hair.

"Liar." Mo said quietly, increasing the pressure on the Wildcat's chest. "Liar. You agreed to kill me for silver, did you not? Yes, I know, Cat, I know everything." Mo added, seeing the expression in the man's face. And as he looked at the Wildcat's beastly eyes, those yellow teeth and cracked nose, he let all of the hate and rage consume him. For if he didn't he would never be able to kill him. He just knew.

Ignoring the Wildcat's pleading and sobbing, Mo swept his sword down... and sliced the man's throat.

Kicking aside the body, Mo glanced around. He no longer felt the searing gashes down his front; he couldn't let a little pain stop him. The castle, or at least, the central part of it, was burning from the inside. The fire would soon spread to the rest of the castle - they would need to get out as quickly as possible. But before that, the Adder needed to be destroyed. If the book was inside the castle, any weapon would be able to kill the Silver Prince. Any weapon. Mo kept that in mind.

Where was Meggie? Mo tried to spot her blonde head among all of those people pushing to get out. Then, at last, he saw her. The soldier had left her long ago, but it was worse, now - Basta and Mortola were standing beside her. So was that bastard, Orpheus, who was still rubbing his scalp with his white hand. Basta was holding up his knife - Meggie was so pale.

Mo ran to them, striking down a few soldiers on the way. When the Magpie spotted him she said something to Basta, and both he and Meggie looked up. Meggie's eyes were saying - No, Mo, don't come! I'll be fine! But he ignored her pleading looks.

"You seem to have done a good job with the Wildcat, Silvertongue," said Basta, smiling nastily and seeming to enjoy the sight of all the blood on Mo. Mortola, however, just looked at him with pure hatred in her eyes. Oh, no, thought Mo, not again. Worse, she had another rifle in her hand. Mo felt an unpleasant tingling in his chest at the sight of the weapon. Then he risked a quick glance upwards. They were standing right under a protruding section of the roof. And the roof happened to be burning - weakening, and fast. In just a few more moments it would collapse...

"I'm going to kill, you, Silvertongue." Mortola said, her voice barely more than a whisper. The crackling of the flames drowned it out.

"Oh, yes?" Mo looked at the Magpie straight in the eyes. "What do you think the robbers will do to you then? And the Black Prince?"

"Let Meggie go, Mortola," Mo said quietly, looking back towards the Magpie and ignoring the roof. "She has done no wrong. You said it yourself, it was me who killed your son, not Meggie. Let her go."

"I need to punish you, Silvertongue," Mortola said hoarsely, cocking the rifle. Meggie's eyes darted back and forth from the weapon and her father. "I need to punish you."

"You already have." Mo replied. "You've caused me more pain than I've felt in my entire life, both in this world and the other. You've found me the man I hate more than anyone I know. You turned me into the accursed robber, the Bluejay. I think you've punished me enough."

Then there was a great wrenching crack. Mo glanced upwards; the roof was beginning to fall. Leaping forward, he tackled Basta and Meggie to the ground, away from the collapsing stone and wood. At the same time there was a dreadful shriek, then a crash. When the dust settled Mo looked around and saw a single bony hand sticking out from under the rubble. Grimancing, he picked himself up from the ground, and helped Meggie stand. When Basta attempted to get up Mo fought him to the ground again. With a few punches the man was out cold.

"Are you all right?" he said quietly to Meggie. She just nodded.

"It's not your fault, Mo," Meggie whispered to Mo. "She could have saved herself, if she wasn't trying to kill you..."

Mo gave Meggie a quick kiss. "Meggie. Go with the Prince. I have... unfinished business with our old friend, the Silver Prince." Mo said, not meeting Meggie's eyes.

Meggie looked at Mo. He saw something in her eyes that he had never expected to see - understanding. "Mo... just don't get killed, please? I don't want to lose you again." She suddenly seemed so grown up, so tired. She actually understood him - the hatred, the rage, the desire to kill. She understood. Mo had never felt so grateful before.

Mo lifted Meggie's chin so that their eyes met. "I promise you, Meggie, I'll be all right. I'll be back when the Adderhead is dethroned." He gave Meggie a gentle push. She gave him one last worried glance, and ran off. And Mo made his way through to the burning Castle of Night.

"Meggie! Meggie!" Farid's cry made Dustfinger look up. He had been hissing at the flames, urging them to continue devouring the castle. They could still hear him, even from inside the castle. The language of the flames travelled far. But fire only listened when it wanted to.

Meggie was really here! Farid and the girl were hugging each other so hard that it surprised Dustfinger. Meggie had tears in her eyes; Farid looked so happy.

"Are you all right?" Meggie whispered to Farid. The boy nodded and stroked her hair.

"We've got to get out!" Dustfinger called to them. "Where's your father?"

For a moment Meggie's happiness was broken. "He... he went to kill the Adder."

Dustfinger groaned. "And you didn't stop him? Now we've got to save his skin, as well as ours! The fire will eat him alive if he goes inside..." Dustfinger paused. "Farid! Tell the Prince we're going inside. Meggie, you go - "

"No, Dustfinger!" Meggie looked so defiant. "I'm coming with you! You can protect me from the flames, I'll be fine!"

Meggie was right. Dammit. Dustfinger knew there was no way of stopping her. "Fine, then. Let's go." Farid had already reappeared at his side.

"The Prince is going to get everyone out. He says he can't help us if we get into trouble..."

"We're already in trouble. Come on." The three dodged piles of rubble and falling rocks as they tried to find the entrance to the castle.

"There!" Farid pointed.

They entered the castle. There was so much smoke; the heat was intense. This part of the castle wasn't on fire yet. But when they got upstairs, following a trail of cleared rubble, obviously made by Silvertongue or the Adder, the fire began to appear. Dustfinger led the way, talking to the flames so that they didn't bite them. He couldn't do anything about the heat. Soon the three were drenched in sweat. Dustfinger began to worry whether Silvertongue was faring all right. This thought was reflected in Meggie's eyes, as well. She was holding on to Farid's hand so very tightly. The martens had stuck their heads out of their backpacks. Dustfinger forced Jink back into Farid's pack. Farid coaxed Gwin back inside, too. They would be cooked marten if they dared come out.

Dustfinger had nearly lost the trail of rubble. More things were falling from the ceiling, covering up the trail. Flames were licking up the walls, the floor, the ceiling - soon even Dustfinger would not be able to control the fire. Farid had tried to help, but the flames simply mocked him, and flared up even higher. Soon the boy gave up, the disappointment and frustration plain in his face.

That was when Dustfinger heard the gunshot. Perhaps it was just the sound of a falling chandelier... Meggie and Farid's face told him that he had heard correctly - it was a sound that couldn't have been made by anything of this world. It was definately a rifle.

"Follow me!" Dustfinger called out before setting off in the direction of the sound. He hoped the kids wouldn't hear the sound of his beating heart. It was beating far too fast.

Mo knew he didn't have much time. If the Adderhead escaped with the book... Mo tried not to think about it.

The fire. Mo had hated fire ever since one burned his favourite book. When was that? When he was only ten? Now he was surrounded by flames, licking up at him. His shirt was singed, and his eyes stung from the smoke. And the gun in his hand was hot from the fire... as hot as the hatred bubbling up inside him. Many times falling rubble had just narrowly missed his head. Mo no longer cared whether he got trapped inside the castle - there was not much hope of getting out anyway.

Then he heard the sobbing, barely audible through the crackling of the flames and crashing of rubble. Mo scanned the room through all the smoke and fire. There! A forlorn form was crouched over a huge box. The Adderhead. He seemed as if he was hugging the book to his chest - he looked pathetic without his fancy clothes, which he obviously had stripped off so that he can run faster.

Mo slowly drew out the gun and approached the Silver Prince. He cocked the rifle, and took aim.

A wrenching crack.

That was all he heard before something huge and heavy slammed into him, knocking him to the ashy floor. Mo quickly assessed the situation. A long and charred piece of wood, possibly from the ceiling, was pinning him to the floor. Was there any way of getting up? Mo tried, with his free hand, to lift the heavy beam from his chest. It was far too heavy. Mo groaned inwardly when he saw that the opposite end of the wood had caught fire. It would be a matter of minutes before the flames reached him.

But then the Adderhead turned, the book still at his chest. "Bluejay - ?"

He didn't have time to finish, for Mo fired the gun from under the beam.

The bullet drilled through the book and straight into the Adderhead's heart of silver - dark, tarnished silver.

The Adder gave a stifled scream as he fell to the floor. The book, too, fell from his hands and onto a patch of growing fire. It caught, and began to burn.

For a moment the Adderhead's eyes locked onto Mo's. He looked as if he was about to say something - but then his head rolled back, and a last whisper of breath escaped his lips. He died, a pitiful pile on the floor.

Mo grimaced and attempted to shift the beam again. No luck. So is this how it would end? Would he be burned alive inside a damned castle? Never to see Meggie or Resa again?

Then came the voice. "Silvertongue?"

"Mo! Is that you?"

He felt the beam shift a little, and glimpsed Meggie's fair head. Then he smiled to himself. Everything was going to be all right. Thank you, God, or whoever helped me out...