They stopped walking. The cave was just ten yards ahead, but he now knew better than to blindly tramp ahead.
Again Aidan felt for new Pulls. There were none. “I don’t feel anything there. What do you recommend?”
“You nay feel nothin’?”
That was a strange question to ask, yet as he thought on it, Aidan realized that he did not, in fact, feel any Pulls before them. There was Slaíne’s Pull next to him, his own Pull, and the Pulls of what he had left behind. Tentatively, he squatted and ran his hand through the air in front of him. “I don’t think anything is there.” He took one step forward and nearly fell to his death. The illusion of grass and path evaporated, revealing a great gulf between them and the entrance to the cave.
Slaíne managed to grab him, and the Goblet, and they fell onto their bottoms, panting and staring at the chasm before them. After a moment, the illusion of land returned.
“How are we gonna get across?” she asked him, eyes wide. “Ya think we could go ’round it?”
He shook his head. “I doubt that we could. The chasm seems to stretch on far beyond where sight ends.”
“But maybe that’s an illusion?”
They both knew she was being foolishly optimistic. Aidan shook his head. They had come too far to be defeated by a cliff. He got to his feet and looked about for something with which to build a bridge. It was no use. There were no trees, no vines, and no way that Slaíne could think of to prevent something as unmagical as falling seventy feet to their deaths.
So the pair tried turning back, only to be met by an invisible wall. Irate with himself for bringing them to such a point, Aidan dropped to his knees and clenched his hands into red fists. The grass beneath him responded, and shot up into his hands. Well, his powers had returned. But what good would that do with no bridge-making materials in Nothingness? He was about to Summon everything anyway, just to eliminate the possibility, when an idea occurred to him. “Slaíne, see if you can fly here.”
“Huh?”
“Just do it.”
She gave him an odd look, but set down her sword, and soon hovered over the ground. “My power’s returned.”
Aidan Summoned a rope from Nothingness and motioned for her to return back to the ground. “Here, let’s see if your powers work over the chasm.” So he tied the rope around her waist, making certain the knot was tight, and tied the far end to his wrist. “All right, slowly now, not all at once….”
Slaíne rose upward again and moved a little ways over the chasm. When she didn’t fall or sink, he encouraged her to go a ways farther, which she did. The result was the same. “What now?” she asked, coming back to his side and landing. “I can nay well carry ye over. You’re too heavy, sir.”
He nodded, and then reached for the Drifting Goblet. “You don’t need to carry me, though you might need to pull me along a ways.” Aidan Summoned a water bladder, and poured some into the heavy Goblet. “Here, drink the rest. We don’t know when we’ll get a chance again.”
The girl did not need telling twice. She drained the bladder as he drained the Goblet.
“All right. We need to move across the gap as quickly as we can manage. I don’t want to sweat all of the water out, should the chasm be wider than it appears to be.” It could not be his imagination that the Drifting Goblet was gaining weight. It now had become too heavy to carry, and he dropped it, nearly on his foot. When he leapt back, he began to Drift. “Grab the Goblet,” he said.
Slaíne came to the vessel and tried to lift it, but it seemed as though she was having the same problem that he had had. “Too heavy.”
He thought for a moment. Could they leave the Goblet alone and then return to it? He was unable to Summon or Dismiss any of the Goblets Immortal, due to their magical properties. If they took too long in the cave, surely no one would be able to take it? At least, he thought not. No one would know where to look. It was decided, then. “We’ll come back for it, once we have the Questing Goblet.”
“Are you mad? We can nay just leave my Goblet there for someone to take.”
“And how many people do you think are going to come by here and do that?” When she did not respond but stared at him in grumpy silence, Aidan knew he had won, and gave the rope tethering them together a sharp tug.
She rose and flew off over the chasm, pulling Aidan behind her. It was soon obvious that Slaíne was not used to being slowed down in flight, as she kept turning her head and giving him incredulous looks. “Move faster,” she said at one point.
Aidan ground his teeth before responding with, “You know that I can’t control it like you can.” He felt truly ridiculous and useless, swimming in midair…or, rather, trying to.
Slaíne stopped and, hovering, pulled his rope with all her might. Taken by surprise, he came soaring forward, hitting her square in the chest and knocking the wind out of her, apparently. “Ouch,” she said between gasps for air.
This would have made him laugh, had there been anything humorous about the situation. Aidan shook his head. “I am sorry.”
“Anythin’ you can do on your end?”
Aidan looked beyond Slaíne. They were a mere twenty yards from solid ground, if that, even. “The more we stand – hover here, the more likely it is that we’re going to sink. Keep moving.”
“Can’t,” she said. “I’m near out of strength.” Despair was evident in her voice, which cracked. She swiped at her eyes once, and then twice. “We can’t’ve come this far for naught.” Much to her credit, though, Slaíne turned around and continued to pull him. She made it another two feet, and then was forced to stop and catch her breath.
The sun beat down upon them in merciless rays. Aidan should have drunk more water from the Drifting Goblet. He sank a few inches, as if at the thought.
“No, no, no,” Slaíne said, turning and pulling again. “Lot o’ good the Summoning Goblet does up here.”
“Save your breath,” he said, not unkindly. There had to be something he could do. Sweating, he realized he might have to free himself from the rope, so as not to pull her down with him when he plummeted onto the rocks below, for at the rate he was sinking, that surely seemed like a true possibility. “Let me try one more thing before we despair,” he said. Closing his eyes, Aidan concentrated. He found Slaíne’s Pull over the many strong Pulls ahead, latched on to it, and then sent it hurtling away from himself.
Instead of shooting ahead like a falling star, Slaíne’s sluggish pace only increased by a modest amount, but still it was something. It took all of his concentration, but Aidan continued to struggle and Push, and before he knew it, they were both on the other side of the chasm, huffing and puffing and sweating out the rest of the water in their systems. He fell down at the mouth of the cave without ceremony, and then Summoned two water bladders, one for them each.
Neither spoke as they drained the tepid water, but continued to lie there, trying to replenish their strength. Aidan Summoned some food, an apple each, ones that Salem had insisted he Dismiss from the Beyond. Aidan wasn’t certain which these ones were, but they looked like regular apples and not of the magical variety, so he thought they would do. They had to do, he knew, for they were out of protein, and most every other edible thing that he kept in his cache.
“What do you think we’ll find?” Slaíne asked, once they had finished their apples and water. “And how are we to get back across? You haven’t got the Goblet over here.”
“We’ll worry about that once we retrieve the Questing Goblet.” Seeing that she was on the verge of panicking, he added, “Besides, the Goblet we seek brings success to whoever drinks of it. It wouldn’t be lucky if it left me dead at the bottom of the gully.”
Slaíne glowered at him. “Lovely picture you paint, sir.” She got to her feet and dusted her hands off on her torn dress.
Aidan rose as well, and they stood there, staring into the dark mouth of th
e cave. Unwittingly he was reminded of a gaping maw, pointed teeth jutting out to better chew them up and spit them out. “Right. We have our abilities back. If anything goes wrong on the ground, you fly up.”
Her expression darkened. “And what about you?”
“I can escape into Nothingness,” he said, knowing he would not even consider leaving her to the wrath of her curse. “Is there anything you can think of that the elves taught you about caves?”
She seemed to turn it over in her mind before saying, “Don’t get caught in a cave-in.”
Aidan looked at her, trying to discern whether she was making a joke or not. The silence became awkward. “Right. Perhaps we should untie this.” He held up the rope connecting them.
“Not yet,” she said, her voice somber. With that said, they ventured into the mouth of darkness.
No sooner had they stepped inside than the entrance sealed behind them, leaving the way pitch-black. Slaíne cursed.
Aidan thought of Summoning his flint, magnesium, and a knife to start a fire, but thought the better of it. Fate, if there were such a thing, did not seem to be on their side. He might end up cutting off a finger or worse. “I guess we move on blindly.” He felt her stiffen by his side. “I’ll keep track of the Pulls ahead. We should be fine.”
“If you say so, sir.” Slaíne did not sound the least bit convinced, but they inched their way forward, waving their arms out in front of them. She hit him twice in the shoulder, and then in the stomach, and three times in the chest.
“Perhaps,” he said, disturbing the silence, “we should just rely on my abilities, yes?”
She snorted in derision, but stopped her mad waving. “It stinks.”
“I know,” he said. The cave was full of the scent of sulfur. The air here was close, wet. Aidan shuddered as gooseflesh formed on his arms and neck.
“What was that?” she asked, treading on his left foot. “Somethin’ just scurried up my leg.”
Aidan sighed and shook his head. “It was probably a mouse. Its Pull was very insubstantial.” Perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say to a woman, but Slaíne expressed no further worry on the matter, and they continued to move inward.
“Eldred,” said a voice behind Aidan’s back.
He could feel their rank, ancient breath on his neck, but there was no Pull. It was a reflex, but Aidan braced his right fist with his left and thrust his elbow backward. It connected with thin air. “No one’s there.”
“No one’s here,” the man’s voice echoed, this time ahead.
Slaíne stopped walking, and the rope went taut between them. “I nay like this, sir. Somethin’ bad’s ’bout to happen.”
Aidan’s terror was strong enough to check his impatience. “We must be getting close. Whatever’s guarding this place can’t have many more tricks.” He knew very well they could.
“Sir, stop a’lying to me. I am no child.” The rope slackened, and she caught up with him.
A blue light bobbed ahead in the darkness, only to be at once extinguished. “Melnine,” said the voice in a singsong manner. “What brings forth the Daughter of Naught – naught – naught?” The echo grew louder and louder.
Aidan found himself covering his ears as the sound continued to bounce off walls and boom in his skull. The echoing ceased, only to be replaced by a high-pitched cackle that ended in a wail.
Slaíne screamed what sounded like a war cry in response. “Silence, you blight,” she said at last, after the apparition repeated her cry back at them.
There was silence, and then the cave lit up as bright as high noon, only to be thrown into an eerie blue light that did not quite penetrate the shadows. Aidan realized at once that the blue was no ordinary flame, in that there was a gust of wind and the fire itself stood still. No shadows danced before or behind them, but he knew they were both ringed in.
“Where is the Goblet, d’you think?” Slaíne asked him. “Behind the wall of fire?”
As if in response, the firewall parted, and a shape moved through it, the shape of a man. Aidan squinted, and, thinking a little too slowly, he Summoned the silver sword.
“Won’t do you no good against a ghost.”
The figure cackled as it drew within ten yards of them and stopped. “Ooh, are we afraid of wee ghosties? No fear, no fear, Melnine. There are no ghosties here.”
“Where is the tomb of Cedric the Elder?” Aidan asked, blue light dancing off the silver blade. He studied the figure of the old man.
The man, or ghost, wore dark ragged robes, ones that might have once been a royal red or burgundy. His matted, filthy beard reached the floor, and the toenails of his bare feet were dead-looking and long enough to curl up over the tops of his feet. Aidan gagged, for he could smell the man’s long-unwashed flesh from where he stood.
When the stooped figure did not respond, Aidan repeated his question. Again the man laughed, though there was something dark and dangerous in his display of mirth. “No death for Cedric, my dear, slippery fellow.” Black eyes glinted in the unnatural firelight, eyes that had seen centuries pass.
“You’re Cedric,” Slaíne said before Aidan could quite come to that conclusion. She shook violently. “That’s nay possible.”
“And yet, here I stand. Yes, I stand where you will die, my old foe.” He was speaking to Aidan. “Melnine’s own might live, should you forfeit your life.” The ancient man gestured around vaguely. “I could send her hence without a hair singed upon that fiery head.”
“I don’t even know you. Why do you wish to kill me?”
Cedric wrung his hands, as if he were imagining wringing Aidan’s neck. “Why did you wish to drink of my blood, you lazy, disobliging blight on the face of humanity?” The fire rose with his temper and snaked in closer.
“Kill him, sir,” Slaíne said. “Run him through. He’s just a powerless old man.”
If he had been standing closer to Slaíne, Aidan might have hushed her. “We don’t mean that. Please, let us leave here in peace. We truly mean no harm.” He gave Slaíne’s rope a subtle tug, and they began backing away from the wizard.
“No one leaves Cedric’s tomb alive, I fear. Farewell, daughter of Melnine and chosen of Eldred.” The man turned, and the flames parted for him as he passed, then closed behind him.
At once the blue flames slithered in toward the travelers. Aidan pulled Slaíne in close, and they stood back to back, as Aidan Summoned all of the bladders from Nothingness and they both covered themselves in water.
“That’ll do no good. This’s a magical blaze.” Her voice was hoarse, and so was Aidan’s when he said, “There is no Questing Goblet.”
She began to cry. “I’m sorry, sir. I failed.” Slaíne turned around to face him. “I’m sorry.”
He held her as she sobbed, and the flames drew nearer. There was only one thing left to do, one thing left to try that could be their death or their salvation. “Do you trust me, Slaíne?” he shouted over the roaring blaze. He did not wait for an answer. “Hold on tight to me, and no matter what, don’t let go.” He grabbed her in his arms, closed his eyes, and as quickly as he could, he Released himself and all of the Pulls surrounding him, all but Slaíne’s, whose Pull was his anchor, the strongest thing he had ever felt. And with her pressed against him, Aidan Dismissed them both into Nothingness.
Chapter Sixteen
Aidan
The strange thing about Nothingness, Aidan had always found, was that you couldn’t breathe, see, or feel, and you could hardly move. This place between Existence and the Beyond had only ever been inhabitable by himself, but none of these rules seemed to be true any longer. Something burned so brightly beyond his eyelids, Aidan turned his head away.
Slaíne’s grip on him tightened for a moment, before she pushed him away, and he collapsed onto nothing as solid as if it were ground. “Strange,” said a voice that was both Slaíne’s
and not. “What am I?”
Aidan opened his eyes. Where there should have stood a dirty, battered young woman, he beheld a queen, still in rags, still crowned with wild red hair, but somehow changed. “Slaíne?” he asked, pulling himself to his feet as her light dimmed enough for him to get a better look.
Her eyes flashed silver light at the mention of her name, but dimmed again after a moment. “You freed my spirit,” she said, amazed, and still not sounding quite the same. “Two souls bound doth unbind. Don’t you see, Aidan? The curse is broken.” She laughed, and the sound was terrifying.
Every instinct told him to run, to return to Existence and leave her in Nothingness to her own devices. But he couldn’t. “Are you all right?”
“Never better.”
His soul quaked as she pulled him nearer. Slaíne’s sinewy fingers traced halfway down his abs and then back up again, her eyes never leaving his. The light within her flashed brighter still. “It’s like seeing you for the first time,” she said, her voice devoid of any accent.
Aidan might just say the same of her. Danger, he thought again as he allowed her to pull him down lower for a kiss.
“I’ve always been dangerous, Aidan. That did not stop you from wanting me before.” Her lips tasted like honey, something familiar.
He relaxed and kissed her back. But her mouth soon moved to his neck and she firmly bit him, drawing blood. Aidan cried out. “Why—”
She licked away the blood, eliciting a shudder. “Because you are mine, Aidan. Make no mistake on the matter.”
Aidan knew he should take umbrage at the thought, but he found himself agreeing.
“Kneel,” Slaíne commanded.
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