Sir Siorradh hadn’t found an exit. He glanced at the star getting brighter above his head and simply waited.
“I do not feel pain the way others do. But our parting brings me sorrow.”
“Me too. I will remember my promise.”
“This is not my final death.”
The star fell through my friend’s helm. He collapsed. The helm tipped away from the chest pieces, which tumbled apart from the legs. The arms detached on impact with the ground, leaving a pile of empty armor.
We had been through so much. How many more difficulties did we have to endure?
The anger stirred inside me.
I wanted to set Ur’s head on fire and work my way down to his boots.
He was so fast. And so aware. It would take time for fire to travel the eighty yards or more that stood between us.
I didn’t like feeling this way. Stuck without options.
Fáidh put her hands on my arm. She had to be upset about all this, too, but she was comforting me. I put my arm around her.
Ur coughed. Blood colored his teeth crimson.
“Maybe he’ll do something useful for a change and die,” I said.
“Goodbye, little prince.”
He smiled a dripping smile at me and flicked his finger one last time and vanished.
What had he done? He hadn’t moved me. I was still on top of the column. Fáidh was still beside me. Rós was still perched at the edge of the pillar.
Hope made squeaking sounds.
The Súilfirinne’s box was open and the glass case was open and the Judgment Stone had fallen to the ground at Hope’s feet.
No.
Please no.
No-no-no-no-no.
This can’t be happening.
Of all the cruel parting shots.
“Got?”
“I’m here, Hope.”
“This isn’t good, right?”
I swallowed. It was like trying to down a glass of spackle. “No, Hope. It’s not good.”
She backed away from the stone, her hands over her heart.
“Hope! Stop! The edge!”
Hope froze, a step away from the hundred-foot drop.
She looked over her shoulder and then at me, panting, her eyes like chips of onyx in a sea of milk. Her voice was high and she whimpered with each breath.
Huh-huh-huh-huh.
“Don’t move, Hope!” I shouted. To Fáidh, I said, “I have to get over there.”
The pillars were separated by fifty feet of empty air. The world record for a long jump was less than thirty. Even with a running start, which I didn’t have room for, I’d never make it.
I lit my hand and peered over the edge. The ground beneath the pillar was rock and dirt with a few bits of grass for a cushion. Despite what it looked like in the movies, a straight drop of ten feet was enough to break bones and a thirty-foot drop was potentially lethal. We were three times that far off the ground.
If I were extremely lucky, I’d only break my legs and back. Then I could drag myself over to Hope’s pillar and . . . what? Pull myself up a smooth stone wall with just my hands?
“Do we have any rope?” I asked.
Rós pointed at the Asaliompair. “In one of the crates.”
That reminded me of my pendants, every last one of which were in the trunk with the Book of Stains.
“Is anyone else hiding in the arena?”
“No,” Rós said. “Sir Siorradh told everyone to get home using your trick. Everyone followed orders. Except me.”
“That’s a habit with you. Personally I’m glad, though you may regret it.”
Rós nodded.
“I don’t think I can melt the Judgment Stone with fire,” I said. Even if I dared to melt the Súilfirinne, it would take time and Hope would burn before the stone was destroyed.
“Got any spells I don’t know about, Fáidh?”
Fáidh couldn’t speak. Tears filled her eyes. She pressed her fingers against her lips.
It was so easy for Ur to move people and things from place to place. He hardly gave it a thought. The reality we faced without that power was very cold and very hard.
“Got?” Hope’s voice remained pinched.
“Yes, Hope?”
“Something’s happening.” She pointed at the stone.
I could see it. The Súilfirinne changing. The stone had an aura around it like a ghostly silhouette and it was growing.
She reaches out to find each soul in need of judgment.
We were running out of time.
“Hope?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you pick up the glass case and put it over the crystal?”
Hope tried. The case was attached to the box. The doors of the box pivoted on their hinges, but the box itself didn’t move.
“It’s stuck.” She tried again anyway. Huh-huh-huh-huh.
Ur had bound the box in place, like he’d bound me.
Even with an arrow in his chest, he’d thought of everything.
“What if she kicks it over the side?” Rós asked.
Crystal isn’t known for its ability to bounce. Once it hit the ground, the crystal would shatter and either give us more pieces judging the world or release a massive burst of power. I shook my head. “We all die,” I replied.
I couldn’t see anything soft growing near the column on our side. “Hope? Is there anything on the other side you can jump down to? Even if it’s a little tree, you can hang from the edge. When you let go, you won’t have quite so far to fall.”
She looked over the edge but it made her shake harder. “N-no, nothing.” Her cheeks glistened. I’d seen Hope cry before, but this was different. These weren’t the earth-wracking sobs of a girl who didn’t know what to do. The purple aura drifted around her and she shuddered. “It feels like ants, crawling on my skin.”
“Hope, honey. Listen—”
“What happens if I touch it?” She was smart. Figuring it out.
Oh please no.
How do I tell her? “It will kill you, Hope.” Straight I guess. Better not to think too hard.
“Right away?”
“No. It takes time.”
Hope hesitated before asking the next question. She really didn’t want to know the answer. Then, “Does it hurt?”
I couldn’t lie to her. Not now. “Yes, Hope. It hurts.”
Her crying intensified but the sobbing sounds remained soft, which made them all the worse to hear.
“But if I put the stone back in the box and close it?”
“The stone will be safe again.”
She put her hands over her face and nodded.
I wanted to tell her we’d find another way. I still couldn’t lie.
“Got?”
“Yes?”
“I think this is why I’m here.”
“What?” I wasn’t doing well putting things together.
“My dream. My mother and my grandmother told me I’d find out why we met today.” Her shoulders shook now as she cried.
I blinked a lot. Hard. “I remember Hope. You told me.”
“This is why,” she repeated, more to herself than anyone. “You saved me. Now I save you.”
“Oh, Hope.”
She knelt and reached out, her hands shaking, and then drew back. “I don’t want to do this!”
I don’t want you to either.
Hope closed her eyes, mascara running in black lines, and cried out as she embraced the stone. The cry rose in pitch and volume and then turned to sobs. She lifted the stone. It was heavy but she got it off the ground. The aura of the stone turned a bright-dark purple and streams of power flowed out of the rock, curving out and back again as if the stone were embracing Hope in return.
Hope arched her back and went silent. Teeth clenched. She moved with determination to the box. She gently laid the Súilfirinne back in it its case. Back in its cradle. The glass closed itself around the crystal.
She closed the doors of the box with a sigh.
Hope didn’t fall. She turned slowly, pain marking her face, trembling. Her eyes rolled up to the stars. Her arms and hands black, as if they’d been burned, hanging limp.
“Got?” her voice was light now. Pure.
“Yes, Hope?”
“I did good. Right?”
“Yes, Hope. You did good. Very good.”
She smiled through the pain. “I love you, Got.”
“I love you too, Hope.”
She laughed. The sound was musical. “Find somebody. Okay? But not too soon. Okay?”
“Sure. If you think I should.”
“Of course I do. You can’t have wrinkles on your heart.”
Twin streams ran down my face. I refused to wipe them away. As sacred witnesses, they had to stand.
“Got?”
“Yes Hope?”
“Things were really hard right before I met you. The last few days made me happy.”
“They made me happy too.”
You gave me Hope.
Hope laughed again. More music. She seemed to float. Her arms rose to her sides and I swore her feet left the ground.
“Hope?” I said.
“Yes Got?
“Stay with me?”
Please.
Hope crossed her two fingers together and waved at me. Team Hope and Luck. “Take care of daddy for me.”
A golden light appeared over Hope’s head. The air immediately above her opened in a square of brilliant illumination like a window to the sun. The glass partition rolled away.
Hope glowed. Not from the light above her but from the light inside. A shimmering aura of gold radiated from her. The aura flowed out and coalesced at her sides, strengthening and lengthening from her shoulders until she had thick lines of translucent light extending behind her, curving upwards at the tips.
At the same time, the faint white Stain I’d given her pulsed. More light—fire from her center—joined with it, tinting it gold. It turned lazily, moving upwards, decreasing in size, growing more solid but still see-through to a degree. Her ring of Stain-and-Soulfire settled a few inches above the crown of her head.
The light transformed the burnt-black skin of her arms and hands, flowing over her inch-by-inch until her skin shone creamy white, the jagged lines of pain evaporated from her face.
She was perfect.
Hope’s body dropped to the ground, but the real part of her stayed. And there were with her two women, beautiful and sweet, with large eyes and radiant hair, looking like Hope’s sisters.
“Are you seeing this Fáidh?”
“Trying to,” she laughed and wiped her eyes.
“Faith,” I said.
“And Charity,” Fáidh replied.
Chapter Thirty-Four: The Only Way Out is Through
My soul was wrecked.
It took some time, but I figured out a way to reach the ground. I regretted not bringing my silverpoint, which I’d used to cut things before. It wasn’t hard to ramp up my fire hot enough to melt the granite face of the pillar, though, and I cut a diagonal zig-zag pattern of holes all the way to the ground. Since I was cutting at a downward angle, it would be easy to grip the holes with my hands and feet.
Once the holes were cut, they had to cool, and that took longer. Fáidh took a turn lying at the edge of the pillar. The night air was cold and humid. She pulled water out of the air and shot it at each hole. I sat next to her, looking wistfully at the pond which had plenty of water in it but was too far away to conjure with.
Rós busied herself tearing pieces of cloth off her clothing. She found a loose rock, which she used to chip off more rocks, although she mostly made flakes of stone. She was making a sling. Maybe she was bored. More likely, she needed something to do. None of us wanted to look at Hope’s body lying so close but still so far away. I was glad to have tasks to distract me as well.
“Are you worried Ur will be back?” I asked.
Rós shook her head, “He’s not coming back.” There was a satisfied smile on her lips. “That arrow had an iron head. Although I failed and missed his heart, the iron went all the way through him. It will never heal right. But someone else might come.”
If Rós felt she had failed again, she was wrong. “You’re extremely skilled, Rós, but it’s better you didn’t kill him. The Dubhcridhe don’t need another martyr.”
Rós nodded, although it took a moment.
Fáidh grunted. “Help me up.”
I gave her a hand and she got to her feet, brushing the dirt off her skirt and bodice. “That’s about all I can do. My head is pounding from leaning over for so long.”
“Okay. Here goes nothing.”
I eased over the edge into the first set of holes. I imagined myself to be only ten feet off the ground instead of a hundred although thinking about imagining still set my stomach off.
Look at the wall.
Not down.
“The edges of these holes are brittle.” Saying things out loud helped me focus. “If you ladies give me a minute, I’ll fetch a rope and get you down.”
I descended the rock wall systematically, not hurrying, not stopping either. The work released the tension from my muscles, forcing the anxiety out of my gut. I got into a rhythm, hands and feet in sync. The ground came up under me sooner than I thought and I felt an overwhelming sense of relief when my feet finally hit horizontal.
I bent over to catch my breath. I hadn’t gone free-climbing for months.
“To the side, sire.”
Rós was just overhead, ready to descend to the ground.
“Oh sure.” I stepped out of the way and Rós dropped from the wall and took a step back. Fáidh was right behind her.
“We just wanted to get down from there,” Rós said.
Fáidh bounced to the ground and rubbed her hands together to wipe off the grit. She did a respectably husky impression of my voice, saying “If you ladies give me a minute, I’ll fetch a rope.” Then she lost it and laughed as fresh tears gathered in her eyes.
I smiled. We needed a laugh right now.
We checked the crates. There were ropes and some food. Part of me was too upset to eat but part of me was starving and that part won out. It was only dry bread and hard cheese but it was blessedly wonderful. Rós went to collect her weapons.
“How do we get the rope up there?” Fáidh asked.
“Not just up. Over,” I found a rock the size and shape of a Chinese take-out box and tied it to the end of the rope, crisscrossing multiple times and knotting each loop separately.
“Can you throw the rock that far?” She looked up at the pillar.
“Don’t have to,” I replied. “Look out.” I let out three feet of rope and swung the rock until it made a full circle, then accelerated the spin.
The rock came around and I let it go on the upswing. It sailed over the pillar, drawing rope from the coil on the grass. I managed to get the rope over in one try and didn’t hit the Súilfirinne’s case or Hope and from this angle, the rope should be nestled between them.
“You’re so smart,” Fáidh said.
If I were smart, Hope would still be alive.
I secured the end of the rope to a tree with my best cub scout knots and hurried around the other side. I had two additional lengths of rope tied into long loops that I wrapped onto the main rope.
“Do those help you climb?” Fáidh asked.
“They’re called prussic knots. They hold when there’s weight on them but slide when there’s not.” I bound the second loop to the rope underneath the first loop. I took a quick breath and started to climb.
With my boots in the loops and my weight on the lower one, I shifted the first loop up a couple of feet. Then I transferred my weight to the other loop, which tightened on the rope and held me. Then I shifted the lower loop up underneath the first loop and transferred my weight back. Following that process, I ascended quickly.
“How is he climbing like that?” Rós had returned with her bow and quiver.
&nbs
p; “They’re prussic knots,” Fáidh said, the sudden expert. “How would you climb a rope?”
“We’d tie knots for handholds, but it consumes a lot of rope. This is better.”
I made it to the top in a couple of minutes, but I was winded and aching. I’d catch my breath again shortly. The aching was going to get worse before it got better.
Other aching might not go away at all.
The body on the ground bore a strong resemblance to Hope. But it wasn’t her. Hope was full of light and strength. I’d witnessed her that way. The body on the ground was broken. Therefore, it couldn’t be her. Hope wasn’t here. She’d gone away with her grandmother and mother, Charity and Faith. The three graces, reunited.
Still, the pretty shell she’d left behind deserved to be cared for. She’d earned that much.
Calling over the edge, I asked Rós to cut the stone off the end of the rope. I pulled the rope up and tied a harness around the remains of my friend. The braids in her hair had fallen apart and I took care to keep each strand out of the harness so it wouldn’t pull. When I knew she’d be secure, I gripped the rope and start to slide her over the edge. Her dress bunched up and rode high on her legs, which wouldn’t do at all. I adjusted her skirt to make sure her legs were covered and her skin wouldn’t scrape on the granite. The fabric needed to protect her so she wouldn’t suffer a single mark.
Hope had flown much more eloquently when she’d drifted upward, her face bright as she reunited with her family, me wishing I could hear the words they said. Then the window had closed and the sky had gone dark again. The flight she took right now was far less inspiring.
Fáidh and Rós received her body and laid her down on a soft patch of grass among the shadows. We’d brought the crate for the Súilfirinne to the base of the column. Rós tied the rope to a handle and I hauled it up. The silver case was unwieldy. I was hyper-aware of every sensation, waiting for the first vibration or hint of pain or any sign at all that the stone was awake inside. That its effects were coming through the case and the box somehow. The relief I felt when everything was locked in its crate was like a wave of soothing water.
Too little, too late.
I sent the crate over the edge, keeping its descent uneventful. While Rós untied the crate, I surveyed the arena. Too much had happened here. I never wanted to come back.
Got Hope Page 30