*****
Phoenix felt a whole lot less confident than he tried to sound. He regretted snapping at Jade but he’d felt under pressure to come up with an answer. Thank goodness she had once again pulled a viable plan out of her hat - or Bag, in this case. Unfortunately, he had a really bad feeling that, for the magic horn to work, he would have to put one of his lives on the line. All too clearly, he remembered the fearsome size of Grendel. Vivid images of that wild night reeled through his head until he had to grit his teeth and force his feet to move forward. Even worse, twinges of pain shot through his ankle, ribs and the healed arrow-wounds on his back. Dying again was the last thing he wanted to do. The very last.
His legs felt leaden as he reached the lip of the gorge. Blood thundered in his ears and his breath grew shallow and quick at the thought of what was coming. Below, the grinding and crushing of great rocks told him the troll was climbing steadily upward, growling as she came.
Instinctively, Phoenix reached for his sword. Its song burst into his mind, urging him to rush into battle, to die in glorious, bloody defeat. Shaken, he slowly re-sheathed it. He knew it wouldn’t work but its insidious song was hard to resist. There was no point in breaking a perfectly good magic sword. Still, he felt naked without something in his hand.
On cue, a burning torch was thrust into his palm. He gripped it gratefully.
“You’re using yourself as bait?” Marcus sounded almost angry.
Phoenix gave a half-shrug.
“I’ll join you.”
Alarm shot through Phoenix. “No way! I’m not really in any danger but you are! Get away from here, Marcus. I mean it.” He glared at his friend.
Marcus shook his head. “I can’t, in good conscience, leave a sword-brother to face such danger alone. You would do the same for me.”
Phoenix wasn’t so sure of that. He had the security of knowing he had more lives. If he didn’t he wasn’t certain he’d be brave enough to offer what Marcus did. He pulled out his dagger and brandished the ruby-studded hilt at his companion.
“I’ll be ok. Remember?”
Marcus stared at him then down at the dagger, obviously unwilling to believe in his ability overcome death. “Are you certain?”
Phoenix swallowed hard and nodded, trying to ignore a flicker of doubt in his guts. “Go keep the villagers from panicking and getting killed.”
The Roman stood still for a moment, staring at him, clearly undecided.
Phoenix felt a surge of gratitude for his loyalty. No-one in his world had ever shown him such unswerving support. The Roman had been brought up in a world where such unshakable loyalty was expected. Phoenix found it uncomfortable and hard to accept. He reached out and gave him a shove.
“Go, Marcus. Be safe.”
Marcus gripped his arm. “And you, my friend.”
Phoenix turned his back on his friend and stared into the darkness, afraid his face might give away how alone he felt.
Would dying hurt this time? There was no doubt he was destined to die at least once tonight. How could being squashed by a ten-tonne foot not be painful? The question was: how long would he have to stand it before he “died”? How would he come back if he were squashed flat? For a brief, silly moment, he felt an insane urge to giggle. A cartoon-style vision came into his head: himself squished perfectly flat then blowing on his own thumb to pop himself back to full size.
Unsure, he checked his dagger again. Yes, there were still six glowing rubies in the hilt. Surely that had to mean he had six lives left. Doubt flared again. What if, somehow, the Druid’s spring rites had actually cured him last time? What if it was just a coincidence that one ruby in his dagger was broken? What if the seven-lives rule didn’t apply to him and Jade because they were actually in the computer game, not just playing it?
An inborn fear for his own life gripped him. It was just stupid to deliberately let himself be killed again. Totally nuts! Slowly, he retreated from the edge of the gorge. There had to be another way.
Then he took a deep, slow breath and a tightened grip on his torch. There was no other way. Someone had to be in danger for the Horn to work. He could do this. He could. He’d outrun and outsmarted one troll already with just Marcus to help. This time he had a whole backup team. He was not alone. Hard as it was, he just had to have faith in them and in himself. Phoenix stepped back toward the gorge, listening and watching. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he strained to see the troll in the darkness.
Something was wrong. It took a second for the change to register. While he’d been thinking about dying, the troll had taken a different path. The sounds of her climbing no longer echoed up the rocky gorge. She had moved around to the cliff face.
As he turned, a shrill scream pierced the darkness. Peering past the light of his own torch, Phoenix saw Jade stumbling away from the precipice. The greenish witch-light she had cast bobbed at her shoulder, illuminating her terrified face. She wasn’t looking in his direction. She was looking at the sheer drop before her.
There, hauling itself awkwardly over the edge, was the troll. It was now less than twenty metres away from where Jade stood.
“Jade!” “Run!” Phoenix heard Marcus’ yell echo his own as they both started toward her. She half-turned but glanced back over her shoulder at the beast. It loomed closer. There was no way they could reach her in time to distract it.
“Phoenix!” Jade’s despairing, urgent cry tore at him.
He ran faster, legs pumping, Marcus thudding beside him.
“The horn!” Marcus shouted.
Phoenix looked up hopefully. Jade put the golden mouthpiece to her lips as she ran. A wobbly, faint note sounded – like the muffled tone of a distant trumpet. It sent a shiver down his spine and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Phoenix glanced around, expecting instant results. Nothing happened. It was too late, anyway. Phoenix and Marcus could do nothing as a great, rocky arm swung in an unstoppable arc toward Jade’s sprinting form. They could do nothing as it connected sickeningly and carried on swinging. Nothing, as Jade’s limp body flew through the air toward them and landed, broken and twisted, at their feet.