are trained to win. Whatever it takes.
My armour remembered the path I’d previously taken through the Castle, when I was following the Seneschal; all I had to do was trace the route in reverse. I pounded along corridors and down stairs, all of them vaguely familiar, following a glowing arrow floating on the air before me, generated by my armour, seen through my mask. But it didn’t take me long to realise this route only led back to Sir Perryvale’s bedroom. I needed the way to the main entrance. I accessed the maps stored in my armour’s memory, hoping against hope for something useful, and was astonished to find a complete floor-plan for Castle Inconnu. Some Drood must have been here before me after all. Probably my uncle Jack. Another glowing arrow appeared, and I followed it.
I was running at full speed now, pounding through the stone galleries with my arms pumping at my sides, driven forward by my own desperation and my armour’s unnatural vitality. Just a golden blur, in the depths of the Castle. I could hear people moving and shouting all around me, but none of them could match my speed, and I soon left them behind.
I passed through a long hall full of classical statues and suits of standing armour set out on display. The statues turned their heads to watch me pass, their empty mouths sounding the alarm. And one by one the suits of standing armour came alive. They lurched forward to block my way, throwing themselves at me, grabbing onto me with their shining steel arms. I threw the first few off easily enough, but more and more of them clung to me with unnatural strength, trying to pull me down. I fought them savagely, and when their heads came off and their arms tore away, I quickly discovered the suits of armour were empty. Just old armour, animated by old magic. Now that I knew I didn’t need to hold back, I tore them apart and ripped them off me, one suit at a time. I smashed them with my golden fists and cut them apart with my sword. No one wastes protective enchantments on empty suits of armour. I finally broke free and ran on again, but the time it had used up was all it took for the other Knights to catch up with me.
When I entered the next corridor, a dozen armoured Knights were waiting for me. I barely had time to stumble to a halt before they charged straight at me, yelling their battle cries. They quickly spread out to surround me, so they could come at me all at once from different sides. Glowing swords and battle-axes rained down on me as I dodged this way and that, using my armour’s speed to keep them off balance. Moving at my armour’s top speed made it seem as though they were all moving in slow motion, giving me plenty of time to anticipate their movements and avoid their attacks. But I was tired, so tired. I was the one who had to move the armour, and I had already done so much. It had been a very long day . . . I was slowing down despite myself, and they were speeding up.
I dodged and feinted, using their numbers against them. They had to be careful not to hit one another in the press of the fight, while for me everyone was a target. A sudden inspiration came to me, and I switched my sword to my left hand. Immediately, the Knights fell back, expecting a trap or a trick. I backed away, just enough that they were all arrayed before me. And then I reached through my armoured side, into my pocket dimension, and brought out one of my uncle Jack’s most dependable devices. The portable door. The Knights saw that all I had in my hand was a black plasticky blob, and they started forward again. Which was just what I wanted.
I manipulated the blob, rolling it back and forth in my hand to activate it, but instead of slapping it against the nearest wall to make a door, I threw it onto the floor before me. It immediately expanded to make a trap-door opening, and the advancing Knights fell through it before they could stop themselves, crashing down into the floor below. The sound of their armour landing made a terrible noise, and I grinned briefly behind my featureless mask.
Nice one, Armourer.
I made it the