continued to shout, hurling threats and curses at the black griffin with all his might.
Darkheart suddenly appeared to forget his bid for escape. He circled lower, and Arren could hear him hissing as he closed in, his circles becoming smaller as he targeted him, as he had once targeted his prey. Arren rammed the spear-butt into the ground beside him, pointing the blade straight at the griffin, and braced himself, his breathing a low rasp. All he had to do was wait. When Darkheart swooped down on him, he would wait until the last moment and then duck, leaving the creature to impale himself on the spear.
Darkheart flew still lower. Then, without warning, he folded his wings and dropped.
Arren heard his mother scream from above. For a heartbeat he stood utterly still, looking up at the raging monster falling toward him, and then he prepared to throw himself flat on the ground, holding on to the spear as tightly as he could.
Darkheart’s talons lashed out, wrenching the spear from Arren’s grip and hurling it aside. He landed with an almighty thud, right on top of him.
Arren felt pain rip into his leg as he was knocked backward, landing hard on the sand. One of Darkheart’s talons had caught him a glancing blow and sent him flying, but Arren did not stay down for long. His body took over and seized control of his brain, and he rolled, vaulted upright and ran without a moment’s pause. As he ran, he heard the thump of paws and talons hitting the sand and knew that Darkheart was chasing after him.
The spear was there, ahead of him, stuck in the sand. He grabbed it as he ran past, wheeled around and then turned, pointing it at the oncoming griffin.
A griffin would not run onto a sharp point willingly. He had seen it dozens of times. They would charge, but then wheel away at the last moment. As long as he had the spear, he could defend himself.
Darkheart ran straight at him, without even slowing down. When Arren swung the spear toward him, his beak shot out, catching it just behind the point. The griffin snatched it out of his grasp, so hard and so suddenly that it bowled him over. As Arren struggled to his feet he saw the griffin advancing slowly, his eyes burning with bloodlust. He was still holding the spear in his beak, but as he advanced he bit down on it, shattering the wooden shaft into splinters.
Arren turned and ran.
Darkheart pursued him with awful speed, his wings spreading wide. As Arren tried to dodge him, he beat his wings hard and launched himself into a glide, talons outstretched. They hit Arren hard in the shoulders, and he felt them try to grab hold of him as he fell forward. But they failed to get a grip, and Darkheart shot past him and collided with the wall of the pit. He landed in a heap, hissing furiously, and Arren got up and ran back the way he had come, running as he had never run before in his life. Up ahead he saw the spearhead, glinting among the sand, and he bent and snatched it up.
That brief delay was more than enough. Before he had even straightened up, Darkheart was on him. His beak shot out, and Arren only just managed to dodge it. The blow, which would have taken his head clean off if it had hit him, slashed straight through his tunic and left a deep cut in his shoulder.
A redness closed over Arren’s senses, and the pain vanished completely as the fighting madness took him. He threw himself straight at Darkheart, screaming, and hit him bodily in the chest. It took the griffin completely by surprise. He staggered back a few paces, and Arren stabbed the spearhead into him again and again, piercing his chest and shoulders. It hit the griffin’s collar and bounced off with a loud clang, and then Darkheart recovered himself and swung his head sideways, sending his attacker flying. The spearhead flew out of Arren’s hand and was lost in the sand, and as he tried to get up, Darkheart leapt. One huge forepaw slammed down on Arren’s chest, pinning him to the ground, the talons entrapping both his arms. The barely healed breaks in his ribs turned into white-hot agony, and he screamed.
In the crowd above, Annir, too, screamed. “Arren! No!”
Arren struggled wildly, trying to wriggle out from under the griffin’s crushing weight,