The Outworlder

by S. K. Valenzuela

  Now! Jared told himself, clenching his jaws and steeling his heart.

  Everything happened in a blur. Jared raised his sword and readied his shield, then launched himself out from behind the pillar. Another stride brought him between Sahara and the serpent.

  Jared stared up at its writhing bulk, its flaming eyes. The partially broken shaft of Rafe’s javelin still protruded from its chest, and Brytnoth’s arrows were lodged securely under its foreleg. Neither wound seemed to bother it, but Jared’s sudden appearance made it rear back.

  In the split second that he had the advantage of surprise, Jared darted forward with a cry that echoed back to him from the temple and the mountains. He drove the sword up to the hilt in its flesh, in that place that seemed to him closest to the monster’s heart.

  The dragon staggered on the edge of the cliff with a strangled, gurgling roar. Bursts of flame and gore erupted from its open mouth, and its scales contracted and pulsed with the final beats of its heart. Then they began to crack, melting under the heat of the flames within.

  It balanced there on the cliff edge for a moment, flames spurting from its wounds and between its plated skin, and then it toppled over the edge of the gorge.

  The shield fell from Jared’s hand as he sprang to the edge. The dragon was hurtling into the abyss, but before it had fallen halfway, it suddenly contracted, then exploded. A ring of fire and white-hot light scorched the canyon, and then everything faded to a dark quiet.

  Jared knelt there on the cliff edge, his mind a chaos of relief and pounding adrenaline. It’s over, he thought again and again. It’s over.

  He rose slowly and turned back to the temple. Sahara was weeping silently, sagging against the chains that held her fast to the pillar. He staggered to her and knelt at her feet, pressing her cold hands to his face.

  “It’s done,” he choked. “It’s over.”

  A hand on his shoulder made him jump. Rafe and Brytnoth were standing beside him.

  “You!” Jared cried, getting to his feet. “I didn’t think you’d made it…I was sure he’d turned you into cinders.”

  “We didn’t quite get our ashes kicked,” Rafe answered with a mischievous grin. “But I do feel a little bit singed.” He felt gingerly along his hair line.

  “We’re fine,” added Brytnoth. “But we didn’t want the dragon to think that. We thought it would be better if he thought we were dead.”

  “By the way, nice work with the sword,” Rafe said. “I wasn’t sure you still had it in you.”

  “Let’s get her out of here,” he said.

  “I don’t suppose we have the key for that, do we?” asked Rafe, pointing to the heavy lock that held the chains fast.

  “No. I don’t even know if it has one. I don’t suppose anyone’s ever left this pillar except in a dragon’s stomach,” Jared said. Sahara shuddered and he laid his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll have to break it.”

  “Ah, easier said than done,” said Brytnoth. “We didn’t bring tools for that kind of work.”

  Rafe rubbed his jaw for a moment, then disappeared into the half-gloom of the temple. Brytnoth glanced at Jared.

  “Where’s he going?” he asked.

  “Where does this door go?” Rafe called from the back of the room.

  “It leads into a passageway…the ship dock is at the far end,” Sahara managed to say, but her voice was too weak to carry.

  Jared shouted this information back to Rafe. “But where are you going, you crazy fool?”

  “I’m going to find some tools. Don’t leave without me!”

  Jared shook his head and groaned. There was nothing to do but wait. Brytnoth crossed to the stone bench inside the temple and sank down, burying his face in his hands. Jared sat with his back against the pillar and held Sahara’s hand.

  “We’ll get you free,” he said, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.

  “What if it’s too late, Jared?” she whispered. “What if Albadir’s already gone?”

  Jared sighed, all his heavy thoughts returning. “We can’t change the past,” he said. “What’s done is done. Let’s just get out of here. Then we’ll find out what’s happened to Albadir.”

  They sat for a long time in silence. Jared felt that Sahara was weeping again, but he didn’t know what to say to comfort her. He just held her hand and watched with her as the moon, shedding its bloody veil, shrank and climbed higher into the sky.

  “I hope Rafe hasn’t gotten himself killed,” Brytnoth said. Then, after another moment, he added, “I’m starving.”

  Jared rubbed his free hand over his face and glanced up at Sahara. Her tears were spent, but her face was ashen. She tried to smile at him, but it faded as it reached her lips.

  “I’m back!” called Rafe suddenly.

  “I hope you found something useful and didn’t just waste an hour of our precious time,” snapped Brytnoth.

  “I found several things,” he said.

  Jared rose as Rafe and Brytnoth returned to the pillar. Rafe dropped a leather bag at Jared’s feet.

  “Tool kit,” he said with a grin. “And there’s more. The ship’s still there. The one they brought from K’ilenfir. And from what I could tell, there’s no one here.”

  Jared grunted and rifled through the pack. He discovered a pair of sizeable pliers, and after a few attempts, they finally snapped the lock. Sahara collapsed into Jared’s arms as soon as the chains fell away, and Jared half-carried, half-dragged her to the stone bench inside the temple.

  “Let’s just rest here for a minute while we decide what to do,” he said. He brushed the hair out of Sahara’s eyes and smiled. Then he glanced up at Rafe and Brytnoth. “We’ve got to get back to Albadir. The executioner told Sahara that the city was destroyed.”

  “What? That’s not possible!” Brytnoth gasped. “You mean this was all for nothing?”

  “Not for nothing.” Jared smiled down at Sahara. “But I’ve got this horrible feeling that he was telling the truth.”

  “Well, there’s no way she can make it if we try to go back the way we came,” Brytnoth said. “Hell, I’m not sure I could make it.”

  “We don’t have to do that,” Rafe said. “Let’s take the ship.”

  “You think you can fly her, Rafe?”

  Rafe nodded. “I took a bit of a look around. The controls aren’t much different than what I’m used to. And what other choice do we have?”

  “Let’s just get out of here,” Brytnoth said. “I know you said you thought the place was deserted, but I’ve got a funny feeling that you’re wrong about that.”

  The journey down the dark tunnel was tortuous. Sahara couldn’t manage more than a few steps on her own, and trying to support her between them made their pace painfully slow. Finally, Brytnoth stopped.

  “We’ve got to do this another way,” he said. “We’re losing too much time.”

  “Let’s carry her,” Rafe suggested. “We’ll take turns.”

  Jared lifted Sahara in his arms and jerked his head to the others. “Let’s move,” he said.

  As they set off again down the passage, Sahara leaned her head against Jared’s shoulder. He smiled down at her and saw the tears flowing down her cheeks.

  “I’m a burden,” she muttered. “You should just leave me here.”

  “After all that, you want us to leave you?” Jared said. “Not going to happen. Besides, it’s like old times.” He winked at her. She said nothing, but her frown deepened.

  When they halted a bit later, Jared set her gently on her feet and stretched his back and arms.

  “Are we nearly there?” she asked, leaning against the rough wall of the tunnel.

  “A little more than halfway, I imagine,” he said. “I took the tunnel at a run…it’s going to take us at least twice as long to get there at this pace.”

  “I don’t like this place,” said Brytnoth suddenly, shuddering. “There’s something sinister about it, and I feel….” His voice trailed off.

  “Feel wh
at?” pressed Jared.

  “Like we could be ambushed at any moment.”

  It was certainly a wretched place. The tunnel swirled away from them into growing gloom and its barely finished face shone vaguely under a line of ghastly luminescent stones. They couldn’t see anything clearly more than ten yards in either direction.

  At the mention of an ambush, Sahara started trembling uncontrollably, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

  “I told you,” Rafe said. “I was down here not an hour ago and I saw nothing. The place is just getting under your skin.”

  Brytnoth frowned at him. “We killed the dragon,” he said. “But what about the rest of their servants? Do they die with their master, or do they just lurk in the shadows and regenerate?”

  “What a time to recall those idiotic agricultural texts,” Rafe retorted. “Regenerate! That’s absurd.”

  “We should be careful anyway,” Jared said. “If they brought guards with them, they may still be here somewhere.” He hesitated, then added, “And we left all our gear and weapons in the canyon.”

  Rafe frowned. “Hadn’t thought of that,” he muttered, then added in a louder voice, “Let’s get out of here, then. Before something does find us.”

  Without another word, he hoisted the shivering Sahara in his arms and began to move off down the tunnel.

  “Wait!” Brytnoth called. “She should be in the middle. Let Jared go first. Just in case.”

  Rafe paused and let Jared take over the lead, and then they were on their way again.

  *****

  Sahara felt a growing uneasiness in her mind the further down the tunnel they got. The air hung around them oppressive and stale, and the stones that lit their path leered at them like lidless eyes. Once she was sure she heard a step in the passageway behind them, and she started violently, peering over Rafe’s shoulder in a desperate attempt to see beyond Brytnoth’s dim form.

  “What’s the matter?” Rafe asked.

  “A step…I’m sure I heard…” Her voice trailed off as she strained her eyes to see through the gloom.

  “It’s probably just Brytnoth. He’s kind of clumsy sometimes, you know.”

  Sahara knew he was trying to comfort her, but she shook her head. “Do you think I don’t know their steps by now?”

  “I’m sure you do, but you’ve had a very difficult time of it. I’d be hearing things too if—”

  “Quiet!” hissed Brytnoth from behind them, stopping in his tracks.

  Jared and Rafe both turned around, and Sahara began shivering uncontrollably. Brytnoth stood still, listening, and she could tell that Rafe was barely breathing.

  “I heard something,” Brytnoth said in a low voice. “Something’s behind us. I’m sure of it.”

  Jared and Rafe exchanged glances, and Sahara struggled in Rafe’s arms.

  “I told you!” Sahara whispered to Rafe. “I told you I heard something!”

  “How much farther to the ship?” asked Jared. His voice was steady, but Sahara could sense his anxiety.

  “Not much,” said Rafe, setting Sahara on her feet. “It’s hard to gauge in this damned tunnel. Everything looks the same.”

  “We’ll have to make a run for it,” he said. “Without weapons, we don’t stand a chance in a fight.” He glanced at Sahara. “Can you manage?”

  “They’re coming!” Sahara cried hoarsely. “I hear them…they’re coming!”

  They took off at a run. Jared and Rafe supported Sahara on either side, and she forced her legs to move. Up, down, up down. Keep moving. Move, or die.

  Move.

  Or die.

  Sahara glanced back once and saw three shadowed forms just outside the reach of the light.

  “Don’t let them get me,” she whispered. “Please don’t let it end this way!”

  Chapter 29

  It was a mad sprint for the end of the tunnel, and Sahara could hear the heavy, deathly tread just paces behind them now. They were running too, and they were gaining.

  Sahara had no strength left for anything but movement. Even fear was more than she could manage. She doggedly put one foot in front of the other, trying to keep up with Jared and Rafe’s long strides without stumbling.

  “There it is!” Rafe called, his voice hoarse with the dank air of the tunnel. “Fifty yards. Right there.”

  Brytnoth was running beside them now, his face grim and pale in the livid light of the stones.

  “When we get on board,” Rafe panted, “we’ll have to be fast. Jared, take Sahara. Brytnoth, you hit the red button on the right hand side. It’ll close the ramp. I’ll fire her up and we’ll send those monsters straight to hell.”

  The next moment, they were tumbling up the ramp and into the transport. Rafe dropped Sahara and dashed to the flight deck, and Jared dragged her clear of the ramp. Brytnoth slammed his palm against the button, cursing at it to hurry.

  As the last slit of the outside world disappeared, Sahara saw their pursuers charging the ship. The engines rumbled underneath them, drowning out the monsters’ guttural shouts.

  Jared pulled Sahara to her feet again and the three of them followed Rafe to the flight deck.

  “Strap in!” Rafe shouted. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

  As they dropped into seats and fastened the harness, Rafe gunned the engines. The ship lurched forward and skimmed out of the landing port under the crag of the mountain. As soon as they were out of the shelter of the rocks, Rafe pulled back on the controls. Sahara watched the face of the mountain in front of them slip away as they climbed, heard Rafe muttering prayers and curses under his breath as the controls shook under his hands.

  And then they were out in the clear. The dawn was a rim of fire along the eastern horizon, the air shimmering with the dust of the night winds.

  Brytnoth leaned back in his seat, shaking with silent laughter. Jared leaned forward, rubbing his hands through his hair. Then he turned to Sahara.

  “We made it,” he said. “You’re free.”

  Sahara swung her gaze from the blue sky to Jared’s dark eyes, which were just tinged with silver. “I’m free…but do you think it was a lie?”

  “Do I think what was a lie?”

  “What it said about Albadir.”

  “We’ll find out in a few minutes,” Rafe said.

  Sahara studied Jared for a moment in silence, then leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m tired,” she said. “So tired.”

  She felt Jared’s hand close over hers, warm and strong. “We’ll wake you when we get there,” he said.

  She tried to smile, but she couldn’t force herself to move. Darkness swallowed her.

  “Oh, my God.”

  Sahara’s eyes snapped open. There was something in Rafe’s voice, something that told her that things were horribly wrong.

  Jared and Brytnoth were crowded beside him, and Sahara pushed herself out of her seat, staggering forward to join them. For a moment, she blinked against the brightness. The sun was well above the horizon, and Sahara realized that she must have slept.

  “Where do we set her down?” Rafe said.

  “Land her just outside the city gate,” Jared said. “We don’t know the state of things inside.”

  “The scanners aren’t picking up anything at all. Nothing.”

  Dread coiled in Sahara’s gut, and she saw Jared’s jaw tighten. “What does that mean?” she said.

  Jared stepped aside to give her a clearer view out the window. Just ahead of them lay Albadir…or all that was left of it. The walls were crumbled and smoke billowed from the southeast corner of the city. The once white buildings were blackened and tumbled.

  Sahara gripped the back of Rafe’s chair until her knuckles showed white. “No,” she whispered. “No.”

  “Don’t get too close,” cautioned Jared. “Set her down just there, behind that ridge of dunes.” He pointed to a shallow reef of sand arching up from the desert floor just west of the main gate.


  Rafe nodded and guided the ship toward the spot. In a few minutes, they were nestled in the sand. Rafe cut the engines and they sat there, staring out the cockpit window.

  “This is all my fault,” Sahara managed, her voice shaking. “All my fault.”

  Rafe unfastened his harness. “Let’s go. Maybe there are survivors.”

  Wordlessly, they made their way down the ramp. The sand burned Sahara’s feet, and the sun scorched through her flimsy rag of a gown. Memories seared her mind, memories of the ruined transport, of the heat and sand and sun, and of Jared’s smile. And of the Lady Aliya, whose cool, gentle hands had healed more than just her gashed forehead and sprained ankle.

  “And it’s all gone now,” she murmured as they clambered out of the hollow and made their way to the blasted gates. “All gone.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Brytnoth said, his voice rough. “This is what happens to everyone who is cursed to live under the rule of the Dragon-Lords.” His voice stopped as abruptly as if it had been hacked off with a knife. He was staring hard at something in the sand before the city gates.

  “No, no, no!” he cried suddenly. He dashed forward and slid down the eastern face of the sand dune.

  “Where are you going?” hollered Rafe, starting after him. “You idiot, if they’re still there—”

  “They aren’t!” Brytnoth yelled over his shoulder as he hit the level and set off at a ferocious pace. “I know they aren’t!”

  They followed him down the dune. As they ran across the burning sand, Sahara felt the heat scorch away her weariness and dread. Wrath flowed in to take their place, and as they reached the spot where Brytnoth stood, staring at the sand before all that was left of the city they loved, she vowed revenge.

  “They were here, just as they said,” she said. “They’ve destroyed everything.”

  “What the hell are you looking at?” asked Rafe when he had breath enough to speak clearly. “What made you run like the devil?”

  “Those,” Brytnoth answered, pointing.

  They all studied the sand. Finally, Jared drew in his breath with a hiss.

  “There was a ship here,” he said.