“Empress,” Netalf said, catching his breath and reining his horse in before them. “Look!”
Nien and SiQQiy looked.
Across the valley, from the sunrising side of Melant, they saw a glittering ocean of bright-coloured clothing and gleaming armour.
Jayak, Nien breathed. The Jayakans had come.
And then, behind this glorious vision came another. Not nearly so grand or ennobled as the first, this one was no less pleasing to their eyes.
“Legran!” someone nearby shouted. “Legran’s arrived as well!”
At the Jayakan army’s flank came three large batteries of men dressed in rustic coats. They held long spears in their hands and carried short bows on their backs.
A great shout went up from SiQQiy’s men as they wheeled their mounts, and with renewed fervor, joined the other Granj battalions and the forces from Preak, driving the Ka’ull back to the opposite end of the valley and into the waiting armies of Jayak and Legran.
Amidst SiQQiy’s soldiers Carly had appeared, her sword covered in the blood of a Ka’ull horse whose neck she’d slashed in the effort to dismount its rider.
Her breath coming hard, she took a moment as the fresh forces swarmed the valley. Scanning the fields, she looked for Wing, Nien, and Pree K. She spotted Nien first; he was over with SiQQiy and members of her private guard. A few, Carly noticed, were missing. Nien and SiQQiy appeared unharmed; with relief Carly continued to look for Wing and Pree K.
The Ka’ull were in a confusion now. Pinched on three sides, their formations were beginning to fail. With only one way out — towards Castle Viyer — hundreds began to break ranks and flee in that direction.
Standing, she watched them go, having no inclination to pursue; she wasn’t worried. Even those who made it through that opening would never make it out of Castle Viyer or beyond that to the Confluence. There were too many men fresh for battle that would be on their heels.
Body burning with pain and exhaustion and more bruises and cuts than she could take in at the moment, she let her pounding heart fall into the wonder that was the sight of the armies not only from Jayak and Legran but those from Preak as well. Just when the battle was surely lost, they had come. It felt like the hand of providence. It felt like the exact opposite of what had happened in Castle Viyer that night. As impossible as that night had been, so was this day.
Sword heavy in her hand, she scanned the battlefield once more; she still hadn’t been able to find Wing or Pree K.
And then her eyes fell upon a tall man lying just to the southing of what had been the center of the conflict.
Dropping her sword, Carly flew across the distance between herself and the man and fell to her knees at his side.
Chapter 93
What He Was Born To
W ing found himself in a space not only far beneath but deep within Rieeve.
Before him stood the great crystalline heart of their planet. Like a living heart, it pulsed with light.
Here we are again, Wing said.
Though the last time he’d been in contact with the great crystal had been so long ago — the day he’d been hit in the face by the startled mare and lain in the fields tending his bloodied nose — it seemed no time had passed at all.
Back on that day he’d been aware that his blood had unlocked the crystal. Today would be the completion of that opening, the joining of he and the crystal and the valleys of the continent. Wing could see that this was the opening of the “gates of the other worlds” spoken of in the Ancient Writings. He knew it would still be some time before it took hold in the rough dimension of mortality, nevertheless, it was now possible for there to be a resolution between the peoples of their world, a way for their continent and, possibly, their world to move into a new, more peaceful and expansive way of being.
This is what I was meant to do. This was what the Legend of Merehr in the Ancient Writings was about, Wing realized.
His work had always been accomplished at the level of spirit. He saw that now. But there was more. He saw how every flawed trait, every illogical decision had been perfect. He also saw why Nien had always been better suited to the world above, that it was his brother’s job to take what Wing had done in the realms of the ethereal and make it real in the world of flesh.
Between Wing and the massive crystal had risen a field of toric energy, the mere thread that had connected them before now a torrent, opening and consuming them each in turn as it pushed out along the lines and intersections of the planet. Wing could feel their world stretching, expanding to hold it, realizing that in order to accommodate the expansion of their world, Leer’s blue sun must have already gone through the same evolution in advance of them, providing space not only for Leer but for the maturation of the other planets in its realm.
But then, like the retraction of a sling shot, Wing snapped back into his body as knees bumped up against his ribcage. The awareness of his physical body hit him with pure anguish; he gasped.
“Wing!”
The sounds of battle had faded and he heard someone saying his name. He turned his head in the direction of the voice but saw nothing, aware only of how cold the snow felt against his face.
“Wing…ah…sech’nya.”
Ah, Wing thought. It’s Carly. Carly. She’s here. He said her name but no sound left his lips.
He felt her take his face between her hands. “You’re still in there, you’re still here…Look at me.”
Wing’s eyes slowly focused this time and he saw her; great wells of tears were forming in her eyes. As she slipped her hand beneath his head, one of her tears splashed upon his cheek and trickled its way to the corner of his mouth. Her hands were warm where the snow had been cold. Her tear tasted salty. He wanted to touch her. He tried again to speak but found he still could not.
“Stay with me,” she said frantically. “Stay with me.”
The sound of pounding hooves drew near and Wing heard someone dismount.
“It’s done,” the voice announced. “The forces from Preak, Jayak, and Legran are routing them.”
They’ve come, Wing thought. All of them. Together.
Someone else took his hand and said his name.
Wing looked up and saw —
Pree K.
For a breath, the grief-hushed tone of voices caused Wing to wonder what he would have to do to comfort them.
“We need to get him inside,” someone said, but as hands began to lift him another rider arrived.
Wing heard the rider dismount, and felt —
Nien.
Wing looked straight up toward sky and saw his brother’s face instead. It was spattered with blood and twisted with profound dismay.
“Wing? — Wing!” Pushing everyone back except Carly, he began to fumble through Wing’s clothing, no doubt trying to get at the wound.
Wing managed to move one of his limbs and captured Nien’s shaking hand in his own.
Nien tried to pull his hand away. “No, Wing,” he said. “E’te. I’m just going to take a look, see how bad...”
Wing’s grip tightened. Nien looked at him. Wing slowly shook his head and tried again to speak. This time, he managed. “It’s all right, Nien.”
Nien inhaled sharply. Tears flooded his eyes and he blinked angrily, shaking his head.
“We thought we should get him inside,” someone said behind Nien, “ — but.”
Wing recognized Lead Netalf’s voice. Nien turned away for a moment and Wing’s head reeled, his vision failing as he slipped again from the realm of flesh, finding himself back inside the planet with the great crystal. It felt good. E’te. It felt much better here. The energy. The freedom. The power.
But there was something else wasn’t there? Something…
Wing looked around.
Nien? Where was his brother?
“Nien!”
Wing felt someone squeeze his hand, hard. “Wing, I’m here.”
Following the thin trail of tactile sensation through his
hand, Wing centered again in his body, but the connection was slippery, becoming unreal. It took great effort to stay with it.
And then Wing remembered the something. “The children?” he asked.
“They’re safe, Wing. The Ka’ull never got near the house.”
Wing relaxed. Good.
Nien gripped his hand harder but Wing was back in consciousness with the great crystal. As the light continued to grow between them, they trembled with the strain and above them the valley shook as well —
Beneath Nien and Carly’s knees, beneath the feet of those gathered around, the earth shook. Armour rattled, startled eyes widening as hands reached out, seeking the arm or shoulder of the nearest friend or fighter to cling to.
The tremor raced out from where Wing lay to the far side of the valley where Castle Viyer trembled and coughed, a stone slipping here, a stone slipping there.
Even as he remained beneath, Wing was aware of what was occurring in the valley above, knowing this would be the final exchange between himself and the crystal heart, a loosening of duality, a lessening of fear, an expansion of joy. This was his purpose, his point, his mission. This is why he was Wing and this was how, through his connection with the great crystal, the fulfillment of the Legend of Merehr had come —
To release fear. To embrace love. To create in order to love the thing created.
It had always been so simple.
The feel of Nien’s hand grasping his, the worried faces, even Carly’s grief…
Wing could suddenly not imagine anything greater in all the world than the love he was feeling. How it felt to love Nien and Carly. How their love for him felt. How the love he was experiencing now was a love without a point of reception or offering. It was the presence of light itself.
The power pouring from the crystal was so great that Wing knew his physical body would soon be unable to withstand it. The only way to finish what he’d started would be to leave it. As the blood from his wound escaped with each beat of his heart, Wing felt the power of the crystal rush in to fill it. His physical heart would break and a new one would take its place. Like him, the crystal would also break, and in a surge of pure energy he would go with it…
Wing’s heart ruptured.
In Rieeve, the smaller trembles in the valley gave over to something much larger. Like an ocean wave, the valley rolled under the feet of those gathered round Wing. Those still standing hit their knees.
Still at Wing’s side, Nien could only watch in horror and awe as Wing’s tall frame seized upon the grievous hole in his chest. And Rieeve convulsed with him. In the distance, Nien heard a groaning and a rattling as Castle Viyer and the burnt carcasses of the village homes shook. Soldiers and warriors on both sides of the battle had stopped fighting, all watching the ground under their feet for a far greater and more unfathomable foe. As the combined armies waited, the Ka’ull began to scatter. Dropping swords and throwing off helmets and hooded robes, they started running in droves for what they must have thought might be the safety of the mountains.
The ground moved again and Nien held his breath as it undulated out, to the northing as well as to the southing, throwing men from their feet and tossing the fleeing Ka’ull to their faces like boneless dolls.
Raising his eyes, Nien couldn’t believe that he could literally see the earth moving…
Toward their home.
His gut tightened. When it hit the Cawutt farm it would level everything, the house, the barn, the small city that had been built there since SiQQiy and her Granj units had come. And the children. Hiding in the barn. Helpless, Nien could only watch. It was over. The beautiful Cawutt home that had stood for so long, their one refuge, was about to be undone by a force he’d never imagined.
But just as the moment of devastation should have arrived it was gone.
Nien blinked.
The tremor that had tossed men and horses about like small stones in a raging river, had raced up to the back of the Cawutt home and simply disappeared.
The back windows shook. Nien thought he heard the back door rattle…
And that was all. The quake had dissipated.
Nien couldn’t believe it.
Beside him, Wing’s body came to rest again, and the ground quieted. Those gathered around clamored back to their feet.
But, the shaking of the earth was not finished. A massive crack, like that of a multitude of simultaneous lightning strikes, snapped the attention of all back toward Castle Viyer.
Though it was still much too far away to be seen clearly, they knew something was happening to the castle and it didn’t take long to find out what. With a thunder that shook the mountains, the massive stone walls of Castle Viyer collapsed in an avalanche of stone, mortar, and splintering wood. The cloud of dust and dirt thrown up by the cataclysm rose in a mountainous plume over the far side of the valley.
Nien looked at Carly and then at SiQQiy.
Silence rained for an awesome moment until, from up in the Mesko Forest, came another monstrous report.
Every eye in the group turned to a section of the Mesko Canopy as it rocked, the giant trees shaking and swaying, leaves and debris thrown far into the sky before falling, surreally, down.
What had happened, exactly, Nien could not say, but the eruption from the forest converged with the rolling boom pushing across the valley from the collapse of Castle Viyer where a veil of warriors stood round a dying farmer.
Nien turned back to Wing. His brother lay, unmoving.
He gasped Wing’s name and pressed his brother’s hand with both of his own, as if the hand’s familiarity could stop what he knew was happening —
“Wing, wait. Don’t.”
With terrible effort, Wing said, “Nien?”
“Wing, I’m still here.”
Wing coughed and caught his breath. “Ne teka’ dey, Nien. It’s done.”
“What’s done?” Nien cried. “What?”
“They don’t remember. Remind them. It will be easier now.”
“Easier? Remind them? Of what? I can’t!” Nien cried, the words tearing from him. “I don’t remember either!”
As calm rested over Wing, the radiant, inescapable purity of his voice bathed Nien’s riving heart: “The clearing in the forest outside of Legran, Nien. Look!”
Nien blinked. “No, Wing, please…” But Nien found he was already there. How…? He looked around him. Impossibly, he was in the Mesko clearing and it was dazzling, radiant with colours that were simply impossible, all brighter than a sun and yet did not hurt his eyes.
“You are always there,” Wing said. “Just remember.”
“No, Wing, I don’t. I can’t hold it. I’ll never be able to — ”
“It will be enough,” Wing said kindly and, for a moment, his eyes were clear.
Nien drew Wing’s hand to his lips, gulped back a sob, and forced his failing vision to fix upon Wing’s face.
Wing could no longer speak, but his eyes held, and through their familiar connection, Nien heard, It’s all right.
No, Nien growled back at Wing. No, it isn’t.
Trust me, Wing said.
I do. But please don’t...
Wing shuddered and his eyes closed.
Nien choked on a cry. Something inside him broke. He tasted blood in his mouth and tears on his lips. Reflexively, he clutched Wing up in his arms, holding him to his chest.
Wing’s head came to rest on Nien’s shoulder.
Garroted, suspended, Nien was drowning. Thrusting his face into Wing’s shoulder, he felt Wing’s chest expand once more, suffusing both of them with indescribable warmth. Though slight, Nien was keenly aware of the last beat of Wing’s heart as his energy burst in an unseeable but magnificent flare, pulsing through Nien and out into the space beyond.
From the northing to the southing, from the Mesko forest to the Cawutt farm, Nien could have sworn he saw the valley burn with a bright, incandescent light.
And then the light faded and the land shivered
and fell still.
Opposite Nien, on Wing’s right side, Carly knelt, knees pressed deep into the snow, head down, hair concealing her face. As Nien looked at her, he came back to himself and the miserable world as he’d left it: beloved faces consumed in grief, snow, cold, mud, blood, and bodies. His own brother now one among them.
Leaning gently, Nien laid Wing back to the snow.
Blood from Wing’s wound had coated the ground beneath him, soaking Nien’s knees. Upon the darkening patch, Nien’s eyes briefly focused. He was sure he might have remained like that forever, unmoving, until he felt a hand come to rest lightly on his shoulder.
SiQQiy.
Taking an impossible breath, he closed his eyes and, with an effort not unlike raising a mountain, got to his feet.
Standing, wavering on his feet, Nien became vaguely aware that SiQQiy had stepped up and put her arms around him from behind. He sagged against her, feeling as if she were the only thing keeping his world together.
Beside them, Netalf said quietly, “They’re coming.”
Who’s coming? Nien thought, and looked up.
The children. Jhock and En’t were on either side of them as they walked across the fields towards the gathering of men. They moved slowly through the snow, tentatively, taking in the devastation with wide, disbelieving eyes. At last their eyes came to rest on Nien. And from there, to the ground where Wing lay.
Pree K started forward as if to stop them. But it was too late. They’d already seen.
A welling sickness in his belly, Nien could only watch as the children approached, stopping a short way off as if afraid to come closer.
Blood from Wing’s wound had spilled down his side and fallen, drop by drop, to the snow-covered ground. Upon the darkening patch, Nien’s eyes briefly focused.
Still as tree trunks, eyes wide and filled with tears, the children waited for Nien. He walked up to them slowly. Bending down, he took Hagen in his arms. The stump of Hagen’s arm pressed against Nien’s chest as Nien looked down at Fe’s wide-eyed gaze.
Wing & Nien Page 77