by Mike Truk
I leaned forward and took her in my arms. Embracing her gently, I pulled her toward me.
She didn’t resist. Didn’t seem to even notice me. Broken, undone, she wept, her claws jagged and vicious between us.
I held her tight. Buried my face in her hair, inhaled deeply of her scent, felt my love for her expand, expand to encompass everything. My mistakes, her own, our past, our highs, our lows.
And something within me shifted. Deepened.
My understanding of her. My appreciation of her strengths and weaknesses, of her as a person.
Subtly, almost imperceptibly, the Valeria in my heart grew. I saw past her rigid self-control, the front she’d worked so hard to put forth, the image of strength and self-assurance. I saw past the pain of her past, her failures, her wounds. I encompassed her confusion, her self-doubt, her loss.
All of her facets merged, becoming one. The warrior who’d stood by my side in countless battles. The woman who’d raged within the Manifold at being unable to redeem her past, unable to understand why it could be wrong to fight on at any cost. The insecure person who’d feared being left behind, of becoming a weight, a liability.
I saw her, as if for the first time. And loved her. All of her. Loved the being at the core, whose fierce desire to be of worth, to contribute, to be a force for good was such that it could blind her. Blind her to her true value, to how she was loved, to what she did contribute, to how her overriding need to be of use prevented her from blossoming, from coming into her own.
And my compassion overflowed, my tenderness. I pulled her in tighter, wanting to protect her, to nourish her, to do all that I could to help her recognize her beauty and power.
“It’s too late,” snarled Alusz. “She is ours. She agreed to our gifts, to our protection. She can no more return to the Source then the moon can put out the sun. She -”
“Come,” I whispered into Valeria’s ear. “Meet me in my reservoir.”
Shutting out Alusz’s voice, I dove deep. I saw those vast owl eyes watching me, predatory and inhuman, watching as I dove past them into my core. Down along the golden filament, to where the four burning cords extended to my companion’s apertures, and the sole remaining dark one stretched out to Valeria’s.
Her aperture opened, and through it she emerged, hesitant. Her hand was replaced by twin roiling masses of inky tentacles that shifted and melted endlessly into each other.
Noah, she whispered brokenly.
I flew to her, arms open, and embraced her tightly. My love for her burned brighter, ever brighter.
She went to speak, but I silenced her with a kiss, a kiss made urgent by need, relief, ardor, love, compassion, hunger. I wanted her with me, for always and forever. My golden-haired beauty, my Amazonian warrior, my pillar of strength, my moral North Star.
We spun slowly, clinging to each other, her embrace made awkward by her ruined hands. When I finally pulled back, I gazed deep into her spirit eyes.
I saw there remorse, a sorrow unending, a hopelessness and despair.
And laughed.
It’s so simple, I said, feeling light, feeling elevated, made whole and clean by love. It’s like the sun’s broken through the clouds.
What is?
Loving you. All of you. The real you. The core of you. That yearning heart that wants nothing more than to be good, to help, to save the world. You, Valeria. You’re the best person I know.
But how can you say that?
I see it, at long last. I’ve always loved you, but now… now, that love is true. Deeper, all-encompassing. Of all my companions, you’re the most honorable, the most dedicated to doing the right thing, to being of service. You’re the best person I know.
She flinched as if I’d struck her. You speak in jest.
No. All of my companions are good people. But none care so deeply, so passionately, about being good. It’s what’s driven you to despair. To doubting yourself. You demand so much of yourself that you’ve grown blind to your own worth. But I see it now. And I’m floored. I feel so blessed to have you by my side I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
I could see her wrestling to believe it. Seeking a subtext, some hint of sarcasm.
So I put my hand over her heart. Feel this, I said. And know it to be true.
And I closed my eyes, stilled my racing thoughts, and focused on Valeria’s essence, the core of which I’d finally glimpsed. That rare, yearning, heartfelt desire that fueled everything she did. To be good. To be honorable. To be true.
I felt the Source manifest within me. Felt my thoughts became lambent with intensity.
And heard Valeria gasped, her breath stolen away.
You see it? I asked, opening my eyes at last.
No, she said, eyes wide. But I felt… something.
Something?
Your… your love. For me. The real me. The me I want to be.
That you are, I corrected. In your heart. I love you, Valeria.
Tears filled her eyes again and her jaw trembled. You do. You do love me.
I smiled, overcome, feeling the fool, an idiot, to not have seen this all along, to not have pieced it together, to have appreciated her depths, her desires, her burning truth.
You love me, she whispered, her voice tinged in awe.
I do, I said. I love you, Valeria. And I see you. I truly, truly see you. And acknowledge you. And revere you. And swear by the Source that I will never lose sight of you again. Will never forget your truth.
Tears ran down her cheeks again, and she went to cover her face with her horrific hands. But I caught her by the wrists, pulled her hands away.
Do you love me? I asked.
Her smile was broken, kept collapsing under her own emotions, until finally she managed and met my gaze full on. Yes, she whispered. I always have.
There’s nothing between us now, I said, pulling her in close. No walls, no barriers, nothing. Just you and me. Forever.
And she slipped into my arms, her face upturned, so our lips came together in a kiss.
At that moment the final walls came down and power coursed through us both, an electric tempest that blazed about us in golden fire. It leaped to the last dull cord, that final filament, and set it aflame.
And at that moment the other four cords blazed forth as if suddenly drenched in gasoline. The interior of my reservoir flared with golden light, a light that filled my reservoir with a new source of power, filled it to the brim with magic - then poured through into each sanctum as their apertures irised open, replenishing those of my companions.
I realized that their apertures would never close again. That in our core, my five companions and I would never be separated, and that magic would flow between us, through us, like an endless current through a sea. It would come directly from the Source and enter out cores without surcease.
Noah, said Valeria, pulling back in wonder. She raised her hands, and I saw that the Hexenmagic was gone. That the foul tentacles had been replaced by twin glowing white light.
Heavenfire, I said, awed.
Valeria closed them into fists, then turned her incredulous gaze to me. The Source?
The Source, I confirmed, grinning, then pulled her into a squeeze that spun us around.
I heard her laugh, then gasp out a sob, then she buried her face into my neck. I love you, Noah Kilmartin. I love you with all my heart and soul.
And I you. Valeria. I pulled back once more to admire her, to drink the sight of her smiling face once more. It was like a draught of cold water to a man dying of thirst. Valeria.
For a moment we remained thus, examining each other in wonder, and then a sobering expression crossed her face. We’re not done. We have to go back.
Yes. I took a deep breath. Ready?
She nodded, and I opened my eyes.
Valeria was in my arms, both of us kneeling. I looked past her and saw that Alusz was gone, her purple-blue portal having shut.
Such was my joy that I didn’t even care. We rose to our feet,
and I took her hands in mine. Turned them over, examining them.
They were her hands, but composed of solid heavenfire - warm and smooth to the touch, giving off the illumination of candle flame.
“The Source healed me,” she said in wonder.
“Let’s see what they can do,” I said, taking one in mine. “We’ve got to go help the others.”
We ran toward the doorway that led out of the domed chamber, back toward the flight of stairs.
Silence from above, not even the faintest tremor.
The fight was over.
But I felt no fear. I hadn’t seen any of the burning cords within my reservoir go dark; nor had I seen apertures close with utter finality.
My companions weren’t dead.
Which meant they’d won.
Wanting to laugh, exhilarated, we raced to the bottom of the steps, and there I took Valeria in my arms and flew her up. We skimmed over the steps, up into that final hallway, and from there down its length and into the arena.
It had been turned into a lunar landscape of craters and shattered stone. A thousand meteors couldn’t have done more damage.
And there, in the center, were clustered my companions. Neveah in her demonic form, wings furled across her back; Imogen, a hand clamped over her mouth; Brielle, leaning on her burning sword, face darkened by soot; and Emma, kneeling beside a still figure, her head bowed in defeat, something clasped in her hands.
There, stretched out before them, looking small and lost amid that ruined chaos, lay a young woman, slight and slender, her face naked to the night sky, her eyes closed.
It felt like when Neveah had stabbed me in the chest with Morghothilim. My joy turned to ashes in my mouth, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
For in Emma’s hands she held the shattered remains of a mask.
Chapter 22
All the excitement, the elation, the incredible high I’d been riding came crashing down around me. It was as if the color drained from the world, leaving the scene before me monochromatic, painted only in the gray shades of sorrow and horror.
I staggered forward, lurching as if the shock had deprived me of the ability to walk. “Little Meow,” I croaked. “No.”
The others stirred, stepping aside so I could reach Emma’s side and crash down beside her.
Little Meow looked so young, so delicate, so vulnerable without her mask. No wounds marked her body, no blood. I searched, desperate for some sign of violence, something that could be fixed, that Emma could work on.
But there was nothing.
Just Little Meow’s pallid face, eyes sunken and ringed with purple, skin ashen, lips tinged with blue.
“No,” I whispered, taking her cold hand in my own. “No no no.”
Emma placed a hand on my shoulder. “I tried. I did everything I could. She’s fading fast.”
“What happened?” I leaned down, staring fiercely at Little Meow’s face. A visage I’d seen only a couple of times, a sight that was still strange to me even after all this time spent together.
It was Neveah who answered, voice dull with exhaustion. “The Nithing-Lord had me. Was draining me of my life-essence. Little Meow gave of her own, affording me time to destroy him. But I took too long. She lost too much of herself.”
“No,” I said again, and grief stirred within my gut like a cold iron rod through oily soup. “Little Meow. No.”
And she stirred. A thin line creased her brows, the lightest of grimaces, as if she was too tired to even protest at pain.
“Hey,” I said, leaning down, cupping her face with my hand. She was so cold. “I’m here. You hear me? I’m here.”
With terrible effort, her arm shaking, she raised her hand to place it over my own. “Noah?”
My eyes burned even as I forced a smile. “Yeah.”
Somehow, she found it within herself to open her eyes. They searched the air before her as if blind, then slowly focused on me. The faintest of smiles crossed her lips. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” I said, and something about her words almost made me lose it. “Hang in there, yeah? We’re going to fix you up.”
Her smile became compassionate, wiser and kinder than anything I could have imagined. “It’s all right, Noah.”
“It’s not all right,” I said, and hot tears ran down my cheeks. “It’s not fucking all right. You hang in there, you hear me? We’ll find something, a way to bring you back, we’ll…”
“I’m so tired,” whispered Little Meow, and closed her eyes again. “I was waiting for you. But now… now I’m ready to go.”
I took her hand in both of mine. I wanted to squeeze it so hard, but forced myself to hold it lightly, as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
What words? What words could mean anything in a moment like this? I bowed my head and wept.
“Don’t,” I heard her whisper. I opened my eyes to see her smile. “It’s been… beautiful. This time with you. With you all. I’ve never… felt more alive. Happier. I regret… nothing.”
Goddamn, her words were undoing me. I didn’t trust myself to speak.
The others had gathered around, and I heard more than one of them crying softly.
Her eyes searched my own. “It’s… it’s been an honor. To help you all. I know you’re going to make it. I know…”
She ran out of strength, or breath, or something. Closed her eyes, grimaced.
I wanted to give her my strength. To dive into my reservoir, to channel the Source into her somehow. But I had no gift of healing, and we weren’t bonded at the spiritual level. There were no channels open between us.
Seconds slipped by. We remained clustered around her, nobody making a sound. All of us gathered to bear witness.
Finally, Little Meow opened her eyes again. She didn’t look at me, but stared sightlessly at the dark void above us.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for… allowing me…”
“No,” I growled, squeezing her hand tightly. “We agreed, remember? No thanking each other.”
She smiled. Still staring up blankly, she exhaled with soft pleasure, the words bringing back a memory, a single night spent flying out over the waves, a moment together that was now all we’d ever have.
“Yes.” So soft. So quiet I could barely hear her. “My one regret… that I never cast my mask away. That it held me till the end. But I’m glad… to die now. Without it.”
My jaw trembled, my body shivered with repressed sobs. But over it all was a fury, a terrible, deeply profound anger at Lilith. That her perfidy should claim yet another soul, and one so bright, so giving, so pure.
“Little Meow,” said Emma, curling a dark lock of hair from her pale face. “Go in peace. We love you. One day we’ll meet again.”
“No,” said Little Meow, reaching up blindly, and Emma took her hand. “Not Little Meow. My name… Aspara… Aspara Saechu.”
“Aspara,” breathed Emma, her voice thick with sorrow. “Aspara. Such a beautiful name. Aspara.”
But her face had stilled. Her chest rose no more. Her fingers relaxed in my hands, and I knew she was gone.
Silence.
I could only bow my head and allow the waves of grief to wash over me - waves of frustration and anger, of disbelief and sorrow.
How long we remained there, kneeling about Aspara’s still body, I don’t know. But eventually, Neveah moved forward to squeeze my shoulder.
Human fingers. No longer demonic talons.
“We must continue,” Neveah said, voice soft. “We can’t wait for the enemy to return.”
“Yes.” I wiped the back of my arm across my face, then on impulse reached down and slid my arms under Aspara’s body. Lifting her easily, I stood. “Let’s… let’s get below.”
Emma rose to her feet and moved to Valeria, hugging her tightly. Without a word, Brielle did the same, and then Imogen followed after.
Neveah regarded the small group impassively, then finally followed suit, wrapping her arms
wide around the others.
I stood to one side, giving them space, holding Aspara against my chest. Seeing them there, the five women I loved, while holding the sixth I’d just lost, I felt something terrible and beautiful blossom in my chest.
I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Grief took a half turn and became wonder, appreciation for being alive. Seeing Valeria’s golden curls beside Imogen’s black braids, Neveah’s blue-black hair, Brielle’s crimson locks and Emma’s white hair, my chest filled with bittersweet joy, and I inhaled deeply. I looked up, half-expecting stars, and felt confusion, wonder, and a sincere joy at being still alive.
I hugged Aspara closer to my chest, holding her tight, feeling my heart break all over again. But I couldn’t lose that sensation of gladness, of being blessed, of being singularly alive. Squeezing her, I wished with all my might that she might squeeze me back but knew that she never would.
She’d never know what happened next, would never share another moment with us around the campfire, would never offer a word of advice, a healing touch, a wry joke, or share in a hastily cooked meal. She wouldn’t be there to celebrate our wins and losses or see those of us that survived grow old. She wouldn’t grow old herself, her body changing, her soul becoming more expansive, taking in the passing years, growing with us, sharing all that was to come.
Aspara was lost to us. She was frozen forevermore in this moment, and every step I now took would be one away from her, from the time of her death, a new moment, a new memory I was to create without her.
Somehow that made even the shattered arena around us all the more precious, all the more beautiful. It made every step, every moment that was to come all the more wondrous.
I pressed my nose to her scalp, breathed in her scent, and forced my emotions down, forced my pain and wonder and grief and torment aside.
“Come on,” I said, taking the first step toward the portal. “We’ve got to get below.”
For a moment my companions simply held onto each other, unheeding of my words; but slowly they pulled apart, and I saw that their faces were wet with tears. Valeria most of all; she looked almost bewildered, raw, vulnerable like I’d never seen her. Emma took her right arm, Imogen her left, and together they followed me, leaving that site of ruin behind to enter the dark portal and proceed below.