by Michael
What does it matter? What does any of it matter?
He could see the battle from where he was, so tantalizingly close. The queen had built her tower on the high ground, a great mound of stone, which she also must have made. That whole plain of shale rock was her sculpture, her putty laid over the bedrock of the world. Not far below, he saw the dragon drop down before the bridge. He couldn’t see Brin. He couldn’t see any single person. Below were thousands clashing and mingling in shadows like a vast beast with many heads. Fronts formed and fell away, pushes and retreats, pockets and currents. The dragon changed all that. Those nearest it pulled back. Fighting continued on the outskirts, but the dragon commanded attention in the center. Didn’t take long to discover why.
Fire exploded from its mouth, sweeping left to right, bathing all.
Is Brin in that? Is she—
He pushed up onto his one good leg to get a better view. His other not-broken leg made him wince, but he cared too little to give it attention.
What happens now? The queen will take the key, and then what? I’ll continue to exist here, and Brin . . . will she go to Rel?
He didn’t know how it worked. It might be that she would be escorted under armed guard; or perhaps she would just disappear, sucked from the realm and sent to her rightful reward. But no matter how it happened, the fact that she would be pulled away was a certainty.
I’ve lost her.
He felt pain—not in his leg, but a stabbing in his heart—so physical, so real, that he clutched at his chest. He expected to find a javelin or perhaps an arrow, but nothing was there, no weapon, no wound. And he was alone. Tesh understood then that shades were exposed nerves without the garment of bodies. Love, hate, fear, joy—these were the iron and steel of Nifrel and regret a form of suffocation.
You aren’t fixing anything. You’re breaking more things and calling it better! And you aren’t freeing the world of a monster. You’re taking its place, Brin had said.
And Raithe’s words again, I want you to start a family, raise children, and live a good and happy life—someplace safe and green.
Brin would have jumped at the chance to go somewhere—back to Rhen, maybe—and start a family. He could have done it. They could have had a home somewhere. She might have been seated at the spinning wheel inside, and he could have been out front chopping wood for a fire instead of watching this one—watching this flame burn the one person who . . .
If I let you go, I’ll never see you again.
Of course you will. If not in this life, then the next.
The pain in his chest ripped so hard he grunted, his hands making fists.
If I had one wish, it would have been that you had died with the rest of us that day. If that were the case, we’d still have you. Now she will.
It was as if his parents didn’t even want him to seek justice for their deaths.
The fire went out.
Before the bridge and under a torrent of flame, the crowd had scattered. Some burned. The rest fled. The area before the bridge lay empty. At the center, before the dragon, stood a small group—no more than ten or twelve.
Is that her? Is she among them?
Hope welled up. The agony in his chest changed to a different sort of ache; the pain in his leg faded. Without applying thought, Tesh was moving, running down the slope, dodging spearmen, axmen, dwarfs, and elves. He hopped rocks, cracks, and crevices, his sight struggling to stay fixed on those at the feet of the dragon who had managed to survive the fire.
Has to be them—has to be her.
Tesh ran faster, charging downhill. The weight was still with him, but he’d switched it from one sore shoulder to the other fresh one. He entered the thick ranks of the queen’s legions just as all the crowd took a step back and gasped. Not at him—a portion of the valley floor had just stood up.
Nothing was likely to impress Tesh anymore, and even as the stone giant grappled with the dragon, he focused on pushing through the crowd. Dodging his way through, exploiting the holes and gaps, or shoving when he had no choice. Tesh didn’t want to attract attention, but he had to get through.
The rock giant took hold and jerked the dragon off the bridge, hauling it to the side. Tesh was close enough to see the small group struggling to reach the bridge. At that moment, his hopes died.
It’s not them—not Brin.
What he saw were mighty heroes dressed in grand armor that glowed with power. These people were big, powerful, and impressive. Near the center was the brightest of them all, a beacon of brilliance in a suit of stunning armor.
“Now! Run!” someone in their number shouted. “Across the bridge! Go!”
Six of the heroes ran forward in a jostled line, madly winding their way through the legs of a dragon and a stone monster that kept the army at bay.
The brightest one of the six was also the fleetest, the fastest runner he’d ever seen, except for maybe—
Brin!
Tesh pressed forward.
Coming up behind the forces of the queen—who were now all standing still—he shouldered his way through their ranks, his eyes ever on the racing streak of armored light. Brin had reached the bridge ahead of everyone and kept going. She ran so fast that she got to the center of the span before looking back and finding she was alone. She stopped and waited for the rest to catch up.
Tesh lost sight of everything because he hit the densest portion of the front line. He was far from the tallest, and a forest of shoulders and heads blocked his view. He continued to shove through. Those around him spoke to one another by name, and he realized that to these warriors, who had fought in countless battles, Nifrel was a small village. They didn’t know him, but at that moment, they didn’t care.
Four defenders were effectively holding the entrance to the bridge: a giant dwarf with a crown and a massive ax, a wild man with a short sword and shield, another big man with a pair of hammers, and the Fhrey fane, Fenelyus. These four had already built up a hedge of slain bodies. No one was eager to challenge them, and that allowed Tesh to move ahead. Some—the closest—even helped push him forward into the fray that they wanted no part of.
When a sweep of the giant dwarf’s ax cleared a row of three men, Tesh broke through. He took a place in the front line, shoulder to shoulder with the rest of Ferrol’s bravest, struggling to find a means of taking down those guarding the entrance to the bridge.
Tesh hoped Fenelyus would recognize him, but the Fhrey wasn’t looking his way. “Fenelyus!”
The man behind Tesh shoved forward, pushing him into the killing ring. He waited his turn to die again.
The dwarven king swung at Tesh.
With no retreat possible and his swords in his belt, Tesh cringed as the massive glowing ax whistled down on him.
“Fen!” the dwarf shouted in anger as his ax froze mid-stroke.
“Sorry,” Fenelyus said, her hands outstretched, fingers pinched together. “This one is not the enemy. He’s one of them.” She jerked her head in the direction of the bridge where all the others had gone.
Before Tesh could react or respond, the big man with the hammers grabbed and jerked him through their wall of defense, tossing him onto the bridge like a sack of wool. Tesh fell, skidding across the stone, and rolled to a stop just before falling into the Abyss.
“Good to have you aboard, boy,” the king shouted after him, then resumed his attacks, cutting a charging Fhrey in half. The dwarf king laughed, but Tesh could see sweat on his brow and weakness in his eyes.
Looking back, Tesh spotted Tekchin trapped in the crowd.
“Hurry,” Tesh shouted.
“Go on!” The Galantian waved. “I’ll catch up!”
“That way!” a pretty, young white-haired dwarf woman shouted at Tesh. “Across the bridge. Hurry! We’re almost out of time.”
Those last words worried him even as he ran across the bridge.
Out of time for what?
The others didn’t look like themselves, but aside from Tekchin, they
were all there. Brin was out in front. Moya was near Gifford, who had hold of Roan’s hand. Rain came next, and Tressa, as always, was in last place. The way across the bridge was clear, a vast and flat expanse of what Tesh noticed was natural stone rather than the slate or the rough rock they had found on the ridge. Beyond Brin, at the far end, he could see what looked to be the dark opening of a cave. The door had to be in there. Brin could have already reached it if she hadn’t stopped.
We’re going to make it!
No one saw the bankors until it was too late.
“Moya!” Brin heard Beatrice shout.
The Keeper stopped, turned, and discovered she’d outdistanced everyone else. That’s when she saw the bankors grab Roan and Gifford. Beatrice was still at the start of the bridge. She hadn’t stepped a toe onto the causeway even though the rest of the party were all running across as fast as they could.
“Now, Moya! Now!” Beatrice shouted.
Moya, who was almost up to Brin, had her back to the attack. She didn’t see the bankors swooping in. Still, at the sound of the princess’s voice, Moya fully drew back her bow even before twisting around. Then while still running forward, she shot and struck the bankor holding Gifford. The winged beast exploded.
Gifford dropped twelve feet to the surface of the bridge. A second arrow followed only an instant later and struck the bankor holding Roan. It was an incredible shot and an impossible feat to have missed Roan while still managing to hit the beast that had been pulling Moya’s friend away. The bankor became a cloud of dirt and pebbles, but Roan had been higher and farther away. A long way up and too far out, she missed the bridge. With no need to breathe, Roan’s scream remained long and constant as she fell into the Abyss. Eventually, it faded with distance, an eerie echoing sound.
“No!” Brin cried in shock.
Gifford got to his feet and ran full-out toward the side of the bridge. He would have gone over if Rain hadn’t tackled him. Together, they fell near the edge.
Another bankor swooped down at Tressa, who lagged far behind the others. Moya was still staring over the side, no doubt trying to see Roan.
“Moya, Tressa is—” Brin shouted, pointing down the length of the bridge, but stopped when the bankor burst before even touching her.
Two shining swords were in the air, and holding them was—
“Tesh!” Brin screamed.
Before he could answer or even look, a loud boom shook the world.
A crash that sounded like nearby thunder made Tesh spin in time to see the golem explode. Chunks of rock flew in all directions, raining down, crushing many still engaged in the battle. In its wake lay a stillness beyond anything Tesh had experienced. The fighting stopped. No one moved or spoke. The bankors halted their assault and circled silently.
Out of the darkness came a light—a familiar one—and row by row the ranks of warriors knelt.
“The queen,” Fenelyus said, amazed. “Ferrol herself comes to the battle.” She turned to stare at Tesh with a look of astonishment on her face. “Who are you people?”
“They are mine,” Ferrol said.
Tesh saw her clearly for the first time. Tall and lean, she appeared mantis-like, draped in her cloak and ethereal gown of white with hands cupped together before her. “You’ve had your fun. Playtime is over. I want my spoils, and I certainly hope, for everyone’s sake, it wasn’t on that unfortunate girl who fell.”
The queen didn’t hurry, didn’t rush. She gracefully walked to the bridge’s entrance where the dwarven king was down on one knee, but not out of reverence. The destruction of the golem had an effect on him, and he appeared mortally wounded.
“Evening, Mideon. Cute toy you made. What did it cost, I wonder? Not much, I hope. Move aside.”
The king, the two warriors, and Fenelyus all shuffled away, granting the queen access to the bridge.
Ferrol glanced behind her. “Orr? Be so kind as to gobble up any who try to run.”
The dragon flapped his huge wings and took flight. Everyone watched as he soared overhead and then landed on the spire just above the door’s cave with all the grace of a hawk.
The queen stepped out onto the bare rock of the bridge. “I suggest you all come back before Orr decides you look too sweet to resist. For those of you new to our realm, let me explain that, just as those lost to the Abyss are never seen again so, too, is the fate of those eaten by him.” She made a show of looking over the side and shaking her head. “It’s a long way down. No one really knows if there even is a bottom.”
She took another step. “All I want is the key. The one who has it can just walk back and hand it to me, and we’re done. No one else has to fall; no one has to be eaten. Do you understand?”
She paused, but no one said a word. “Despite what you think, I’m not evil. I don’t derive pleasure from hurting. I don’t enjoy destroying beauty. I was once the most beloved leader of the most beautiful city in the world. I was a hero—the first to stand up against true evil. The first to resist, to believe there had to be a better way than submission to cruelty. I raised my hand to protect the weak and defy a monster. And I wasn’t alone.” She whirled around. “All of these people here are my descendants, mine and my brother Drome and sister Mari, who joined me in the great rebellion. You”—she pointed at them—“are my family, too, and I will treat you as such, for we still have a common enemy who walks upon Elan and keeps us caged. Bring me the key, and help us right a wrong that is eons old.”
No one moved.
She waited, but not for long. Patience was not the queen’s strong suit. “Bring them,” she ordered, and the bankors flapped again.
Moya began firing the moment she saw the first one move, and she kept shooting with startling speed and accuracy. But even her skill and determination were no match for the swarm the queen had sent. They went for Rain, Brin, Moya, and Gifford. None came after Tressa or Tesh. She knew they didn’t have the treasure she sought. Rain killed one, but two more were heading his way. The bankors had no trouble with Brin. Catching her, one lifted off.
Moya, who struggled to keep the beasts off herself, could only manage a quick shot that killed the bankor holding Brin. Tesh gasped as she fell near the edge of the bridge. Brin hit hard, skipped across the stone, and looked like she was going to go over. Miraculously, she managed to catch the lip even as her legs spilled off. All Tesh could see was her fingers.
“Tesh!” Brin screamed, her fingers slipping.
He dropped his swords and ran for her as fast as he could. He dove headfirst to grab her, but before he was close enough, her fingers disappeared. He heard the scream, that same long unending wail. He pulled himself to the edge and looked down. He could still hear her, the sound receding, but she was already lost to the blackness below.
Just like Roan, Brin was gone.
“No!” the queen shouted. “Get under the bridge! No one else falls!”
Tesh continued to stare into that unending dark, into that empty space that had swallowed Brin. His mind worked at grasping what had happened but refused at the same time. Two parts of himself warred for dominance while he lay there looking into the Abyss, into the impossible.
She’s gone. How can that be?
By the time Tesh looked up, Moya and Rain had been taken by the bankors and the only ones left on the bridge besides himself were Tressa and Gifford.
Gifford destroyed five bankors before one managed to catch hold of his sword arm and lift off, flying toward the queen with its prize. He was out over the open when he switched his sword to his other hand and swung upward. The bankor holding him exploded, and Gifford fell. Another bankor swooped in to intercept. Gifford angled his head downward and held his sword straight out, making himself a human spear. The second winged creature burst into rubble as he passed through it.
“Catch him! Catch him!” the queen demanded.
Two more tried. They came close. Gifford cut through them. Then he, too, was gone.
“Tesh,” Tressa whispered. She f
ell to her knees beside him. “Tesh, we can’t let her have it.” She glanced down the bridge at the dragon watching them. “I’m going to jump.”
Tesh was still seeing the disappearance of Brin’s little fingers.
If I let you go, I’ll never see you again.
Of course you will. If not in this life, then the next.
Tressa moved, crawling toward the edge as if she dragged a boulder on her back.
“The bankors will just catch you.” Tesh was surprised by the calm of his voice. He looked to the edge of the bridge where Brin had clung.
“Then help me, Tesh,” Tressa begged. “Please.”
“I can’t,” he said. Lying on the stone, he began to cry. Something sharp was jabbing into Tesh’s cheek, and he pulled his head away.
From the darkness, they heard Moya scream. She screamed again and again, and finally . . .
“Tressa has the key!” the queen shouted, her voice carrying across the void. She whirled on Konniger. “And you said Tesh was lying!”
The bankors are coming, Tesh thought. Best to go down fighting.
His swords were too far to retrieve in time. A rock maybe? Tesh looked down and saw the thing that had jabbed into his cheek. A small pin of metal.
Tesh stared at it, stunned.
“They’re coming,” Tressa said. He saw her pull a dagger, the one he’d given her in the swamp. “Maybe if we just threw it down, or maybe if—”
“Give me that,” Tesh ordered, pointing at the weapon.
Tressa didn’t question him, sliding it across the stone. “Tesh, they’re—”
“Tressa, she’s not going to get it, but what I’m about to do might destroy the future of the world. You okay with that?”
Tressa looked at him confused for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah.”