Skyfire by Skye Melki-Wegner Read Free Book Online Page B

up,’ Clementine says, ‘but I’ve never smelt anything so awful in all my life.’
    â€˜I think it’s sulphur,’ Maisy says. ‘My books said it smelled like rotting eggs. And those must be geysers.’ She points towards the blasts of steam. ‘We’d better stay away from them. If a blast comes up under out feet, then …’
    She trails off, looking nervous.
    â€˜Good idea,’ Teddy says. ‘I mean, I know I look dashing in red, but I don’t fancy life as a pot-boiled lobster.’
    The stench thickens as we trek deeper into the boulder field. But with time my nostrils adjust, and even Clementine stops pinching her nose.
    â€˜Ah,’ Teddy says, with a deep sniff. ‘Home sweet home. Told you you’d recognise it.’
    Clementine scowls. ‘I need my hands to balance, Nort.’
    â€˜Sure you do. And you need your nose to savour this subtle bouquet of –’
    â€˜Nostril abuse?’
    â€˜I was gonna say “good old-fashioned Rourton charm” – but hey, whatever floats your boat.’
    The nearest geyser rumbles. It’s a deep sound, a guttural roar that rises through the stones and gurgles up through the soles of my feet. It almost tickles: not just a sound, but a physical spasm.
    High above, Bastian lets out a cry. ‘Run!’
    We don’t stop to ask questions. I’ve heard that tone in people’s voices before, and it’s never ended well. We run.
    â€˜What’s happening?’ Clementine gasps.
    No one answers. None of us has any idea, beyond the fact that the ground is shaking. Spurts of hot fluid rise and burst like fountains in a richie’s garden. Bastian’s foxhawk wheels overhead, searching out the safest path for us to follow. ‘This way!’
    I stumble blindly forwards as the air fills with steam. I narrow my eyes to a sliver and barrelonwards. My heart pounds. I stumble through piles of slippery pebbles. The earth groans.
    We duck behind a stack of teetering boulders. A moment later it collapses in a chaotic clatter of smashes and cracks. A jet of steam erupts from the debris and I yank Maisy away from the blistering air. ‘We’ve got to get out of here!’
    â€˜Oh, really?’ Clementine snaps. ‘I’d never have guessed.’
    There’s a shriek overhead – the cry of the foxhawk – and I wrench my gaze up with a start. Bastian soars southwards and his beast lets out another screech, as though to summon us. We take off at a shambling run, just as the earth where we were standing begins to crack.
    I grab Clementine and wrench her aside as a blast of steam erupts beside her. She screams, overbalancing, but steadies herself against my grip.
    â€˜Come on!’ I choke.
    My breath comes in sharp gasps, but my legs are oddly steady. I don’t know if it’s just the animal instinct to survive, but my earlier stumbling and fumbling is over. My body knows what to do. It’s almost like riding a foxary – sitting back in a numb sort of terror as my limbs take over. My legs leap between rocks; my arms fling outward to balance myself; my head ducks aside to avoid a blast of wind and ash.
    And oh, the ash. It tumbles around me like snow. A snow of grey, as pale as the sky, but with the brushing irritation of hot flakes of pepper. It spews up from the nearby geysers, until its heat and dust and coarseness sting my thorn-scratched skin. Every breath is hot and ragged in my throat.
    We can’t see Bastian any more. I have no idea which way to turn, which way to run.
    â€˜Look out!’
    The stones beneath my boots begin to crack. I stumble, my balance shattered as the rocks slip and slide. Lukas snatches me with such a jerk that a surge of pain stabs my left shoulder. The shoulder’s been dislocated several times, and the sudden lurch threatens to pop it from its socket once more. But my shoulder stays in place, and I keep my