The Fickle Winds of Autumn

42. The Weight of a Rock

The narrow corridor trapped Kira in its rough tapered confines; the dark silhouette of Fyrttu blocked the bright corner to the exit; Kira's panicking thoughts scrambled and rushed, but were pinned down and paralysed; she edged back into the cold protection of the sloping stone, but kept her trembling body between the steely hostility of the guard and the slumbering form of Ellis.

Fyrttu had been giggling last time Kira had seen her - but now her combatant stocky contours lurched forward threateningly; her caprine features hardened into a cruel, determined sneer; her horns lowered, poised for an attack.

A shuddering intimidated alarm pulsed through Kira's startled ears and body.

But she couldn't run; she couldn't leave Ellis.

A sudden squalling bruise of shrieking feathers and talons launched past her as Harath crashed into the guard with a tenacious force.

Her powerful, undaunted aggression sent them both screeching and reeling around the corner towards the exit.

Kira dashed forward and followed the tempestuous, bitter fury into a small, smooth chamber which opened onto the rugged cliffs outside.

She squinted as its fresh brightness stung at her eyes; the raw, overwhelming chill of crisp air rushed in from the barren slopes and bit at her nose.

The strident rumble of plumage and beaks clashed discordantly; Harath had made her size and the shocking surprise of her attack count. Her hefty weight trapped Fyrrtu to the ground; her fierce beak and talons ripped at her opponent's chest and wing feathers, in a furious storm of pale billowing plumage and grim anger.

Fyrttu squawked and screeched in shrill pain as she twisted and writhed beneath the agony and fighting menace of her queen; the wiry, agile strength of her supple flight muscles heaved her contorting body out from under Harath's determined attacks; she wriggled free and sprung up to face her foe in resolute and deadly earnest.

Kira's anxious blood pounded with urgent caustic torment as Fyrttu tore at her rival and unleashed a savage deluge of squalling talons and ripping jabs with her ruthless hooked beak.

Harath hopped and swerved from side to side, desperate to avoid and fend off the vicious attacks; her great wings thumped and flapped to shield her vulnerability, but her weary body could not withstand the ferocious intensity of the cruel onslaught.

A venomous swipe from Fyrttu scuttled Harath and sent her scrambling, helpless to the ground.

Kira's shocked adrenaline thumped a relentless convulsing rhythm.

Harath had put herself in mortal danger to help her escape - she must repay that kindness; she must do something to help; she must defend Harath - or all of her selfless bravery would have been in vain.

She dodged back into the dimness of the corridor and scrabbled to pick up the hefty rock she had just dislodged.

Its firm weight sagged in her wearied arms; its dry abrasive edges roughed at her fingers as she dragged it up and carried it back around the corner to the exit chamber.

In the deadly scrambling melee, Fyrttu had twisted around and now had her back to the corridor, astride the helpless, pinioned Harath, tearing at her exposed, defenceless chest feathers.

Harath rolled and dodged, flapping her great wings to try and dislodge her opponent and buffet away the cruel ripping attacks, but the raw, sinewy power of the guard overwhelmed her with a vicious brutality of strength.

Kira had to act.

Her new friend's life depended on her.

She wrestled the weight of the rock up to her chest; her arms burned and trembled with exhaustion and fear.