A Wild Ride Through The Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

unimpressed.
    ‘But you can see the air quivering above the treetops?’
    Gustave nodded. ‘It’s hot, that’s all—heated by the perpetual sunshine.’
    ‘Don’t you believe it! Those are aeolian slicers. They’re like glass—transparent and almost invisible, but sharp as cut-throat razors. You don’t notice them until
after
they’ve reduced you to slices.’
    Gustave was growing tired of the mythical beast’s dissertation.
    ‘You can rest here awhile,’ it continued. ‘Your new travelling companion is on the way with your equipment. He’ll be here before long.’ The gryphon rose into the air. ‘As for your love-sickness,’ it added, ‘it’ll pass. The more your first love hurts, the quicker you’ll forget how wonderful it was. You won’t find that much of a comfort at present, but you will, believe me.’
    Gustave sank to the ground, stretched out in the long grass, heaved a deep sigh, and instantly fell asleep.

GUSTAVE WAS ROUSED by a clatter of hoofs. He opened his eyes and sleepily raised his head. All he could make out at first was a wavering figure, a creature with four legs and a human torso. Another mythical creature? A centaur?
    He blinked, and his vision cleared. A magnificent silver-grey horse came trotting out of the forest with a knight on its back. The latter, who was wearing a fearsome-looking suit of black armour and a helmet with the visor closed, carried a long wooden lance in his right hand and a spiked ball-and-chain in his left.
    The knight levelled his lance and cleared his throat.
    ‘Get ready for your last task!’ he called to Gustave, who was laboriously scrambling to his feet. The voice was deep and metallic, as though the armour itself were speaking.
    ‘What does he mean, my
last
task?’ thought Gustave, bewildered. ‘And why a knight?’ No one had ever said anything about doing battle with a knight. He straightened up with an effort, brushing the earth and leaves off his arms and legs. It was only then that he remembered how scantily attired he was.
    Gustave decided to clear the air by appealing to reason. The knight, who was doubtless his new travelling companion, had evidently been given the wrong instructions. Someone had definitely blundered. Either that, or the figure in black was playing a silly practical joke on him.
    ‘Now look here,’ Gustave began, but the pugnacious warrior had spurred his horse and was galloping towards him. The ball-and-chain whistled through the air as he whirled it around his head, dust and clumps of grass went flying, and the forest floor shook in time to the charger’s hoofbeats.
    Gustave tried to react as the situation warranted: he reached for his sword, but it wasn’t there any more. It was embedded in the belly of a hapless dragon lying dead on the seabed.
    ‘I’m a servant of Death!’ bellowed the black knight, digging his spurs into the charger’s flanks.
    ‘That’s no surprise,’ Gustave muttered to himself as he desperately scanned his surroundings for somewhere to take cover.
    The whistle of the ball-and-chain and the thunder of hoofs combined to create a kind of music that grew louder and more menacing as the horse bounded nearer. The knight himself emitted an awe-inspiring sound which had probably served him well in many a battle—a cross between a growl and a rising scream. Its effect was not lost on Gustave, who at last decided that discretion was the better part of valour. His intention was to sprint into the nearby forest, where a horse would find it hard to follow and the knight, in his heavy armour, would also have problems. But he couldn’t move. His feet seemed to be rooted to the spot—he couldn’t budge them even an inch.
    Looking down, he saw that his ankles were trapped by two tendrils—no ordinary tendrils, however. Although they were of the same olive-green colour as the other plants around, they had tiny, elfin faces, dainty but athletic bodies, and muscular-looking hands and arms. Embedded in