Age of Myth

by Michael J. Sullivan

  Konniger stopped moving.

  “Thurgin? Devon?” Konniger shouted. He was right next to her, and his voice was so loud that she jerked in terror. “That you?”

  It has to be Raithe! It has to be! It has to be!

  Persephone wanted to cry out, wanted to scream his name, but Konniger was so close. She had to wait, had to squeeze herself into the floor, to hide, to give Raithe time.

  More splashing, and it was getting closer.

  “Who is it?” Konniger asked, his voice less confident. “Who’s out there?”

  Still no answer came.

  If it’s Raithe, why doesn’t he say so?

  She heard Konniger shift, heard him take a step away and then another. “Who are you?”

  The small patch of light that marked the opening of the crack vanished as something big blocked it out.

  “Who in Elan’s name are you?” Konniger cried.

  The answering roar shook the stone.

  —

  Raithe and Malcolm moved as fast as they could but had no hope of keeping up with the Fhrey as they darted like deer through the trees. Their speed and silence, especially in the dark, was amazing and more than a little frightening. Raithe and Malcolm were left far behind and in awe.

  Maybe they aren’t gods, but they have to be magical—some form of crimbal, perhaps?

  By the time Raithe and Malcolm reached the cave, Maeve was dead, and the Fhrey were building a litter to carry her body back to the dahl. There wasn’t a bear—living or dead—and Raithe assumed it had been driven off.

  Suri was alive. The young mystic crouched on her knees beside the Keeper of Ways with Minna curled beside her.

  There was no sign of Persephone.

  Raithe had been certain she would come there, forgoing the rol and trying to save Maeve and Suri on her own. A bloom of panic ignited as he began to doubt he would ever see her again.

  No, he thought. I’m being foolish.

  He tried to convince himself that she had taken his hint and run for the rol. He wanted to believe she’d locked herself inside and was safe, waiting for them to find her. But as sensible as all that seemed, it was too good to be true. Nothing in his life had ever gone completely his way, and the gods still had their eyes on him. They always wanted blood. Maeve was dead, but one old woman wouldn’t be enough to sate the appetite of gods.

  “Suri,” he said.

  The girl turned her head and looked up slowly, her eyes taking time to focus.

  “Can you show me how to find that waterfall?”

  “The one with the Dherg rol hidden beneath it,” Malcolm added.

  Suri nodded. Then glanced back at Maeve, still with her baffled expression.

  “Can you do it in the dark? Can you do it now?” Raithe asked.

  Suri glanced back at Maeve once more, then stood up. “Not a good idea to go there now.”

  “Why?” Malcolm asked.

  “Grin will probably go there.”

  “The bear?” Raithe said so loudly that the Fhrey looked over. “Why would Grin go there?”

  “She likes caves to hide in when she’s scared or hurt. We’ve taken hers, so she’ll go there. I’ve seen her do it before.”

  “Scared? Hurt? Suri, did you do something to Grin?” Malcolm asked.

  She nodded. “She was going to hurt Minna; I had to do something. That waterfall and pool is the nearest source of water, and she’ll want to soothe the burns. If she lives, she’s going to be in a really bad mood. Best to stay away.”

  In his head, Raithe heard laughter. The laughter of the gods. The sound made his skin crawl. He had chosen poorly and put Persephone right in the path of the bear, which, for reasons only Suri knew, was going to be in an enraged state. What made the situation so ironic was that the gods had known all along what Raithe had only just realized—how much he cared for Persephone. She might not be able to love him, but oddly enough, that didn’t matter. Some things didn’t make sense, some things were merely the whim of gods—gods who had a recent and irresistible infatuation with him. In his mind, a great brown bear’s image flashed, rearing over Persephone, its massive claws spread and its jaws open wide.

  “Persephone is there,” Raithe shouted. “You need to take us, now!”

  “We’ll all go,” Nyphron said, surprising Raithe. “Medak, Vorath, and Eres, pack up the old Rhune, and we’ll meet you at the forest’s edge when we get back. Everyone else…” He looked at Suri. “Follow the girl.”

  Suri glanced one last time at Maeve and then, together with Minna, trotted toward the cave exit.

  As they headed out, Raithe heard Sebek speaking to Nyphron in Fhrey. “Did he say what I think he said?”

  Nyphron nodded. “They’ve found a Dherg rol.”

  —

  Persephone smelled the harsh odor of burnt hair as Konniger stepped on her hand in his frantic retreat. She couldn’t help crying out in pain.

  Konniger didn’t notice. His priorities had changed. Finding Persephone no longer topped his list. Even when she pushed his foot away, he didn’t seem to care.

  Persephone lost her fear and got to her feet, shoving Konniger back.

  Another roar sounded. The sound amplified by the stone walls was heart-stopping. The bear couldn’t be more than one or two arm lengths away, but Persephone couldn’t see anything in the darkness. She felt Konniger grabbing at her blindly with both hands.

  He doesn’t have his spear.

  The chieftain grabbed hold of Persephone and tried pulling her around in front of him, but the crevice was too narrow. That far back, it was just a few feet wide, and she was determined to keep Konniger between her and the bear. She wrenched free of his grip and beat him with her fists and knees. In the blackness, she connected with some part of his face, something hard and bony. She heard a squish, his mouth or maybe his nose.

  Konniger groaned in pain, and Persephone kept swinging, swinging in the dark. Then she pushed out with both hands and managed to raise one foot and kick. Konniger was hit hard. He staggered backward, stumbling away. Then he screamed. At the same time, she heard what sounded like the cracking of branches.

  Persephone felt the movement of air and a wetness spray her face—a cool wave followed by a hot, moist puff. Konniger continued to scream, his voice rising higher in pitch and intensity with each crack and snap.

  Persephone’s hands were back on the wall where the door was supposed to be. She ran her fingers across the surface, clawing in desperation.

  “Where are you!” she screamed aloud at the stone.

  You have to feel around to find it, and it’s too high for the pack to reach.

  She stretched up, sliding her palms left and right, manically waving both arms. The stone was smooth, slick, and moist. Blood. It’s splattered with blood.

  “Help!” Konniger cried, not sounding at all like himself, not even sounding human. The high-pitched screech was something a small animal might make and was accompanied by a deep growl that she felt as much as heard.

  Persephone’s hand crossed a bump she’d missed before, and she slammed her fist against it, more in a physical expression of panic than any hope of success. She was rewarded with the green light’s glow, a sliver that widened with the low grind of stone on stone. She fell into the rol, hitting her knees on the hard floor. The pain streaked up her body, making her cry out again. She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes watering.

  Behind her, the bear continued killing Konniger.

  No, not killing, not anymore. She heard another snap but no cry, no screech. Konniger was dead. The bear was ripping what was left of him apart.

  I’m next, she thought.

  Gritting her teeth and opening her eyes, Persephone pushed off the floor. She was back in the little room with the glowing green stone, square columns, and ribbed archways.

  I have to close the door!

  Built by the diminutive Dherg, the doorway wasn’t large; she had no trouble reaching the diamond at the top of the threshold. S
he pressed the stone plate. It moved easily enough, and the door obediently began to close, the stone slab sliding left to right with a steady grind.

  Hadn’t it slammed shut before? Watching the massive stone scrape its way shut, Persephone was certain it had closed faster the last time. Close, damn you, close!

  Illuminated by the eerie green glow spilling out of the doorway, a vision of horror emerged. The bear had the better part of Konniger in its jaws and was shaking him, spraying his blood across the walls of the crevice. The animal’s fur looked strange, not like fur at all but rather charred skin. It wasn’t a bear. It couldn’t be. She finally saw its true form. Suri and Konniger had been right. The Brown was a demon.

  The bear’s shining eyes saw her, and with remarkable speed the beast lunged. The door was almost shut, but the bear shoved its head through the opening and caught the stone with a paw. Whatever force was driving the stone stopped.

  The bear roared again as it struggled to claw its way in, back legs scratching, struggling to catch on the opening, trying to pry it wider. Persephone had no idea what force caused the door to open and close along its track, but she prayed it had the power to crush the bear, to kill it.

  Whether the bear wanted in or out no longer mattered. The stone was around its throat, and the beast was caught. It pressed forward and jerked back in frustration. With one paw still hooked, its claws gripped the edge of the door. Four dark claws as long and thick as fingers dripped blood—pieces of flesh trapped under each. The bear roared in anger and with an effort pushed its paw against the door.

  Persephone watched in horror as the stone slab inched back. With another grunt, the bear pushed again. The stone gave another inch, the gap growing wider. Soon the bear would be able to catch the edge of the door with its back claws and heave it wide.

  Inside the room and to the right of the door lay Raithe’s old shield. The same one she’d used when fighting the wolves. Persephone picked it up and, just as before, used both hands to thrust the bottom edge at The Brown’s snout. The animal wailed and growled. She hit the beast again and again, as hard as she could. The bear’s face turned bloody.

  The Brown jerked backward. In a panic to escape the blows, the bear withdrew the paw that had clutched the edge of the door. With its removal, the stone slab resumed its left-to-right march, closing once again. The gap remained too small for the bear to pull its head out. Trapped, The Brown twisted and jerked violently, but the door continued to close, pinching around its neck. Again Persephone bashed at the animal’s face in the vain hope of somehow forcing it out. The bear wailed in desperation, fear, and anger.

  As the door slid the bear’s roar became a whimper.

  Tighter and tighter the stone inched, squeezing the animal’s throat. The Brown jerked harshly, still struggling to wrench its head free. Then the animal succumbed to panic. Ignoring all pain, it bucked and twitched, shrieking in such terror that Persephone took a step back.

  Slowly, very slowly, the bear lost its strength. Persephone watched its face, its bloodied nostrils and eyes, as The Brown grew silent and still. Persephone continued to stand before it, holding the shield and rocking with the pounding of her heart.

  After several minutes with no movement from the bear’s head, she finally allowed herself to sit down. She sat right before the door, in front of the massive head of the bear, whose eyes remained open. Two small black globes like polished pebbles reflected the green light. Persephone felt her breathing hitch. She still held tight to the shield, and wrapping her arms around it, she began to cry.

  At first, the tears came from the aftermath of fear—the sort of mortal terror she hadn’t known before—which left her exhausted and stripped of dignity and pride. Yet that was only the beginning. In her weakened, exposed state, the dam burst. She relived the deaths of Mahn and Reglan, followed by her two younger children. She thought about Aria and her mangled son, Gifford, who somehow had survived against all odds. She imagined the deaths of Raithe and Malcolm, Maeve and Suri. She cried for all of them and for the innocents of Nadak and Dureya. Crouching on the floor in the eerie green light, she wept until she had no more tears. Then she lay down with her cheek against the stone. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember how to breathe, how to think, and how to live. Somewhere in that process, exhaustion overtook her, and she fell asleep.

  —

  They found her in the rol covered in blood, holding Raithe’s old shield.

  The dead bear was in the door, Konniger’s remains just outside. They identified him by the copper boss of the shield floating in the pool. Konniger’s spear was there, too, lost in the fall. He hadn’t expected to fight a bear.

  Raithe was the first one into the rol, with Malcolm, Suri, and Nyphron close behind.

  He stood over Persephone, feeling his strength run out. He knew they would be too late the moment Suri told them about the bear’s intentions. Dureyans weren’t used to happy endings. That was one of the reasons he’d always enjoyed his sister’s tales. They gave him hope—but they were just stories; reality always turned out differently. He stood over Persephone’s crumpled body, vainly clutching the shield he’d left, and found himself wishing that he’d been her Shield. That he could have been there even if it meant dying alongside her.

  Strange how I never appreciate anything until after it’s gone: my family, my father, Dureya…her.

  Slowly, gently, he bent down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said, and kissed her on the forehead, surprised at how warm she still felt. Usually, the—

  She woke with a jerk and pulled back, disoriented and frightened, until she saw them.

  “Raithe?” Persephone said groggily.

  Raithe sucked in a sharp, stunned breath. “Are you—are you all right?” he asked, shocked. An immense and uncontrollable grin stretched across his face.

  Persephone hesitated and looked out at the bear still lying in the open doorway. Slowly she nodded. “Yes…yes, I think so. And you’re all right, too.” Her eyes brightened, then she hugged him. Arms tight around his neck, she squeezed, but only briefly. “Konniger said—but I guess he lied.” Spotting Suri, she pulled back and exclaimed, “You’re alive!”

  “You have black hair,” the mystic replied, then looked at the dead bear. “But I’m not in the mood for games just now.”

  “I wasn’t playing. I—” Persephone stopped and looked around the rol. “What about Maeve? Where is she?”

  Faces darkened, Suri’s most of all. “Maeve died…Grin…” Suri continued to stare at the body of the bear lying outside the open door. “I don’t think Grin was a demon; she was just a bear. Maeve fought The Brown—fought the bear for me, I think.”

  “Maeve fought The Brown?” Persephone asked, stunned.

  “With Tura’s staff.” Suri held up the stick. “She was fierce.” Suri petted the wolf. “So was Minna.”

  “How long have you known of this place?” Nyphron asked as the other Galantians filed into the rol and walked around the stone pillars, looking at the walls in fascination.

  “We just learned of it,” Persephone said. “Suri showed us.”

  The Galantian leader turned to eye the mystic. “The tattooed one?” he asked.

  “Is this it?” Sebek asked him, pointing at the runes that circled the walls.

  “Stryker,” Nyphron called, and the goblin entered from where he had waited in the crevice. “Vok on hess?” Nyphron asked, in an unpleasant language that sounded as if he were coughing up something to spit.

  Stryker drew back his hood, revealing a monstrous face and head. He gazed up at the writing. The creature, which was how Raithe thought of Stryker for he was too repulsive to be thought of as a person, shambled slowly around the room. The goblin raised a hand at the runes and pointed with its claws.

  “Et om ha,” the goblin replied to Nyphron, and nodded. The Fhrey smiled.

  Raithe extended his hand to Persephone. “It’s nearly morning. I think it’s time we took you home.”

  CH
APTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  When Gods Collide

  I could not move, not my arms, my legs, or even my head. I was forced to watch, and I was not even allowed to scream.

  —THE BOOK OF BRIN

  They exited the forest in a solemn procession by the first light of dawn. Persephone, Raithe, Malcolm, and Suri followed behind the Fhrey, who carried the shattered bones of Maeve.

  Hours before, Persephone had found the Black Spear of Math right where she’d dropped it, within sight of the glade battlefield. The weapon lay among the men’s bodies. She was grateful Raithe and Malcolm were safe but couldn’t find any cheer in her heart for the victory. Many of the dead had lived in Rhen all their lives. She knew their parents, families, and friends, and not even her own safety could lighten that weight.

  Persephone’s feet and skirt were soaked with morning dew as she struggled to march through the tall grass. An overwhelming exhaustion extended beyond muscle and bone, even beyond the aftermath of the battle with a giant bear. She felt empty, truly empty, to the point of being erased. With the death of Konniger and the bear, a portion of her life had reached a conclusion. Her memory of Reglan remained mortally wounded. Discovering that he’d had a child with Maeve was a shock, but his order to kill a baby and hide the affair for years was beyond her ability to forgive. Persephone had drawn strength from Reglan when he was alive and from his memory after his death. That morning she could no longer lean on him, and she wasn’t certain where she found the strength to keep walking.

  Suri matched her in expression as she stared out at the rising sun. She held something tightly in her hand and repeatedly looked at it with increasing concern.

  “What’s that you’ve got?” Persephone asked.

  “A bone,” Suri said.

  A month ago such a reply might have surprised Persephone, but that morning Suri could have admitted to holding the beating heart of the Tetlin Witch and Persephone wouldn’t have blinked.