Then a shadow flew over him. It extended over his arms as he stretched them out while running. His heart pounded with tremendous fear. He was all alone with a dragon. He wanted to look up to the sky and see how far it was, but there was a part of him that did not want to know. The shadow appeared again, and this time Locklin glanced and was relieved to see a cardinal flying ahead.
He reached up, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and grinned.
Then he fell a few inches. His ankle fell in a hole and twisted. The same ankle that he had hurt earlier. He screamed out, hearing his ankle crunch. He fell to his knees and pulled the ankle from the hole and he hopped forward to a tree. He rested against it and felt the pain shrivel up his leg. He placed his foot on the ground and applied pressure; it hurt too badly to keep going. Locklin looked back toward the temple and couldn’t see it, and then he looked and saw the clearing into the Ozpleasian fields.
He mustered all his strength and ran, limping toward the light. His foot hurt, his leg throbbed, but he never gave up. After walking on his ankle for a day or two he would get used to it, and eventually it would heal. At least it wasn’t broken, and he hoped that would be all the bad news he would have for the day until he came from the forest.
And his eyes widened.
Two large ships were resting behind the Ancrya and nearly fifty soldiers had gathered around, aiming at Locklin. Locklin threw up his hands and limped toward them. He could see General Javiero, and Locklin hated Javiero more than Norcross. He had won three medals of honor and some peace award for establishing peace between three countries. Locklin thought of him as egotistical, but nonetheless, he had to confront him now or go back through the dragon’s nest. There was no way he was doing that now.
General Javiero stepped forward with his steel cane. “Where are they?” he asked, getting straight to the point.
“They are at the end of the forest,” Locklin said, huffing and puffing.
Javiero looked at the soldiers and nodded. They immediately rushed to the airships and boarded them. Javiero then stepped closer to Locklin. “I’ll ride with you.”
Locklin nodded. “All right, but do ya have a cig?’
Javiero pulled out a small metal case and flipped it open, revealing only three cigarettes in it. Locklin took one and then reached in his pocket for a lighter. He lit the thing, inhaled, and rolled his eyes back with pleasure.
“Tastes so good,” Locklin said. Then he remembered Leo, and he hurried into the Ancrya. He went to the cockpit, did the usual routine, and then he was off toward Leo and the others.
***
“This hurts,” Leo huffed.
“It will be all right,” Bancroft said.
“No, it won’t,” Norcross said. “For when today is over, I’m going to kill every one of you myself, and I will publicly display it so that everybody can see the humiliation. Especially you, Bancroft. It’s to my knowledge that we have your family and I’m going to tell them how you begged like a coward and then I’ll kill them.”
“Then I’m sorry that you are that weak,” Bancroft said.
Norcross crawled to one of his pistols. Charis aimed at him the whole time, watching his every move. Norcross grabbed the pistol with the good hand and rolled to his back, holding it in a not so threatening way. Charis extended her arm out, ready to release the arrow, but Norcross tossed the gun toward her and she caught it with her free hand.
“I want you to shoot me,” Norcross said.
Bancroft looked up at her.
Pain, anger, fear, suffering, and hatred fueled Charis as she took a deep breath. Leo was going in and out of sleep, and she couldn’t harbor the thought of watching him die, even though they knew each other for such a short period. She gripped the gun and trembled as she did. She had no idea how to use it.
She extended it outward and the pistol was shaking; she couldn’t get a clear aim. Bancroft gasped at her and knew that she was going to do whatever she felt. There was nothing to tell her. Perhaps Norcross deserved it, and perhaps he didn’t. He was just a man made of flesh and bone like they all were, but was he deserving of death, or deserving of repentance? Bancroft chose the latter.
“We kill in war,” Bancroft said. “If you kill him are we any better?”
“It would make me feel a lot better,” Charis remarked, trying to keep her hand steady.
“Without question it would, but you are better than that,” Bancroft said.
Charis listened to him and almost dropped the gun, but Norcross laughed at her and mocked her. Blood was smeared across his face, and he sat up, calling them names and laughing at them. Charis stuck the pistol outward again, this time confident she could hit him.
“Do it!” Norcross screamed.
Charis closed her eyes and aimed at his head.
“Do it! Look at me! I’m a monster! Look at what I’ve done to you,” Norcross said. Sweat poured down his face. “I deserve it. You have your chance, so take it. Pull the trigger.”
Bancroft had positioned Leo in such a way that he was being rocked. Bancroft had rocked his own children many times in their lives, even after the smallest mistake, just to let them know that he still loved them. Bancroft nearly cried as he remembered rocking his own children. He held Leo tightly, watching as Norcross was all alone. He could have cried for Norcross. Norcross had started something entirely with his power, with his evil malice, and he alone thought he could take on a world, by himself. Bancroft felt sorry for him.
Norcross chuckled. “I knew you didn’t have it in you.”
Charis slowly lowered her hand and dropped the gun. It landed with a thud in the dirt beside her and she turned to face Leo. She stumbled toward him, but something caught her ears. Engines! It was the sound of the Ancrya and something else. She turned toward to sky to see the Ancrya and two other ships descend into the forest, knocking trees over and imprinting the grass.
“Help me,” Bancroft said, getting to his feet. He pulled up on Leo, and Charis rushed to his side. She tried so very carefully to avoid damaging his shoulder or lift his arm, and finally they got Leo to his feet. He wobbled, winced in pain, but overall he seemed to be all right.
The entrances to the ships opened and nearly four dozen soldiers rushed out, aimed upon Bancroft, Leo, and Charis. Then, from behind them, Javiero limped on his cane, followed by Locklin and another soldier. Javiero came upon Norcross and reached a hand out to help him and Norcross grasped it, pulling himself up.
“It’s about time,” Norcross muttered.
“I’m always on time,” Javiero said with a smile.
Norcross smiled back. “We have to wait on Nile and the girl.”
One soldier threw Locklin in with the others and he tripped and bumped into Leo. Leo cried out, swollen with pain. Locklin stood up straight and grabbed Leo, apologizing. Leo nodded and Locklin released his arm and stood beside him, facing the soldiers.
“Permission to execute,” said a soldier, aiming at Bancroft.
“No,” Norcross said. “I want them alive. I’m going to kill them myself after they’ve endured torture. Get me a medical officer.”
Javiero signaled for a soldier with a red cross on his arm. The soldier broke from his group carrying a case with a red cross on it. Norcross held up his hand for the soldier to see. He flipped open the case and pulled out a gun and then loaded it with a capsule that harbored liquid. He held it to Norcross’s neck and pulled the trigger. The Magical squirmed, thinking that he had shot Norcross, but instead, Norcross sighed in relief.
Chapter 44
Death
Solace of Time grew darker in the mind of the Snake Queen, like a forbidden secret never to be spoken, left unsettled and growing into hate. Thunder roared across the murky sky and the black ocean howled as it crashed onto the pale shore. A haunting chill came from the ocean, sending shrills across Ashera and Nile’s neck as they stood, facing the queen.
Ashera reached for Nile’s hand, as if she were afraid of this bad dream. Her lips t
rembled as she murmured, “Where are we?”
“Solace of Time.”
Ashera looked around and was frightened by the darkness of it all. Everything seemed so empty and gray. “Everything seems so . . . dead.”
Shebris hissed after Ashera and as she glided, she bumped into a sand mold. She thought it was a sand mold, or perhaps a sand castle from a memory. She glanced down to see Srinath lying on his side, and she stepped away from him to see his cape sprawled out. She had brought him to Solace of Time and she seemed to forget how easy the touch was to bring somebody here.
“I don’t want to be here,” Ashera said.
“It only exists in the mind, Ashera. This is hers,” Nile said.
“Why does she have one?”
“Enaya, element of time, connects you to your past.” Nile looked at Shebris while he continued to talk to Ashera. “Shebris came in contact with Enaya a long time ago.”
Nile turned to face her, but he didn’t see Ashera. Instead, he saw Dywnwen on the balcony. It was one of the last nights in Woodlands, before any of this happened. He was staring at her while Roland was asleep and he was smiling. He remembered what she had said to him.
“You are still my knight in shining armor.”
He replied, “I will always be that knight in shining armor.”
When he blinked, Dywnwen was gone. That was all she was now, a memory, and she was gone like one too. He saw Ashera and felt empowered by her presence. She was so beautiful and her little kisses warmed Nile’s soul. He looked into her beautiful eyes and for an instance, he forgot he was Nile Whitman. Instead, he was a knight.
“I just want to go back, Nile. Let’s go back. Let’s go back and forget this place and what happened. We can run away together,” Ashera insisted.
“There is no going back now, Ashera. This has to end.” Nile gently pushed Ashera to the side, and he walked toward Shebris, but Ashera grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.
“Can we just go to your Solace of Time?” Ashera asked.
Nile lowered his head. “No.”
Shebris raised her sword. “It is time.”
Nile relaxed his hands, but Ashera grabbed him again. This time she kissed him and pulled his head down, resting her forehead on his. Softly, she whispered, “Can we just go?”
“I’m ending it.”
“Nile, please? I’m scared. What if she kills you?”
“Then I want you to know that I’m glad we met. I want you to know that you kept me alive through all of this and I love you for it.”
“Nile,” Ashera cried out, her lips quivering, and her face puffy and red. She grabbed his hand. “You don’t need Enaya. Let’s just leave her here in her memories. You and I can go and be together. Don’t you want that? I do.”
This was the moment where Nile truly felt loved and accepted, as if for the first time, he connected with somebody, who above all else, forgave him and wanted him. He looked at her eyes, her beautiful eyes that told the story of love. He looked in the palm of his hand and saw her hand, and then he looked at Shebris, who was purely agitated. He looked back at Ashera and slowly nodded, agreeing with her. He felt as if there was no other way to live, but to live with her.
“I’m leaving.” He grabbed Ashera’s hand and closed his eyes.
And he felt like they were traveling a million years away. The cold chill still ate at them, and they could hear the sound of the ocean, but they had to be far. Nile forced a smile as he felt Ashera’s face rub against his chest. Then, as he opened his eyes, he was still at Shebris’s Solace of Time.
Shebris laughed.
“What happened?” Nile asked.
“You should know that in Solace of Time, I am the creator. Things happen because I want it to.”
Nile glanced to Ashera. “I have to get Enaya, and then I can have the power to leave this place.”
Ashera nodded.
Nile pulled out his sword.
Ashera gripped her staff.
Shebris glided toward Nile and slashed at him. Nile brought up his sword and caught her blade, then slid his steel down to her wrist. He kicked Shebris off and swung at her, but she saw it coming. She caught his blade with each swing. Shebris was a fighter. She had known how to wield a sword, taught by Warcront, who was a master at swordplay. Nile had to admit that he barely knew anything and what he did know was what his father had taught him. This proved that he had very little skills as swordsman.
“You are weak,” Shebris said.
Nile pushed past her comment, bending forward and sucking in as her blade rolled across Nile’s stomach, ripping his shirt. Nile twirled his wrist and slashed at her, forcing her blade to move to the side. He sidestepped, barely missing her sword and managed to get behind Shebris, but Shebris was too quick. She brought her sword at eye length around her body and Nile ducked, but this was his opportunity. He jabbed her thigh.
Shebris howled and the waves of the ocean grew immensely. They rushed toward the shore and crashed on the beach. The water pulled back, bringing back millions of grains of sand, but leaving a harp and a stool, basking on the pale shore, glimmering in what sunlight this place had left.
“I remember that,” Shebris said, lowering her arms. The mist contracted back into her sleeves and her hands were now visible. She arched and stretched her fingers, and she made her way toward the harp.
The sun shined brighter around the harp and the sand around it became white. Then, a curious little girl appeared, playing the harp. It was just the sight Shebris needed to see. There was a smile that cracked on her face, a small and sad smile, but nonetheless a smile. The playing was a bit off, perhaps she was a beginner, but Nile recognized the song she was trying to play. His mother use to sing it to him. Shebris moved forward, sulking in sadness. What looked like dirty water ran down her pale cheek. Tears. Shebris was crying.
“What is happening?” Ashera asked.
Nile lowered his sword and looked back at her. “She is interacting with a memory.”
Shebris did not hear them.
Nile glanced at Shebris for a long time, almost feeling sorry for her. He reached for Ashera’s hand and she slid it between his swollen fingers. Nile looked down a black mist in the shape of a sword. He followed it to see Shebris, gritting her teeth through her dirty tears. Shebris stepped in, cutting off Ashera from Nile, and pointed her sword at his throat.
“My memories were beautiful,” Shebris said.
Nile looked at the harp to see that it was not surrounded by sunshine, or an eager little girl playing, but by darkness. “I know, Shebris. They were.”
“I even had a name,” she said.
“What was it?”
Shebris twitched and looked around the beach. “I don’t remember.” She glided closer to Nile. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Shebris brought her sword to the side and swung it down to Nile’s legs. He managed to roll his blade just in time to hear the swords cling and he sighed in relief. Then Shebris brought her sword over her head and let it drop, but Nile caught on to what she had been doing. She was taunting him. She could kill him if she wanted to, but she was wasting time. Nile brought his sword up and met hers, crossing their blades in midair.
Ashera rushed toward her from the back and swung her staff, but the Snake Queen ducked and spun around, slashing at Ashera. Ashera quickly broke apart her staff and blocked the blade as it chipped into her wood. Ashera held Shebris’s sword with her left hand, then brought her right over her head and slung into Shebris’s head. The staff crashed into her skull, and Shebris flinched and fell to the side, stumbling over the sand.
“Thanks,” Nile muttered, catching his breath.
Shebris glided toward the shoreline, where the waves would brush up against her legs, assuming she had legs. The mist disappeared and her hands extended outward. The water rippled at her dress and she pointed her hands toward Nile. He gulped hard, but to his surprise a straight stream of water stretched out from the shore. It circled he
r body, down her arms and to the tips of her fingers. A black orb was formed.
She held the orb in her hand.
Nile watched curiously as to what would happen, but Shebris lunged her hands forward and the black orb shot across the beach. Nile pushed Ashera out of the way. He pointed his sword toward the orb, and they met, fighting against each other. The orb separated, encompassing Nile’s blade, so he swung his sword as hard as he could toward the ground to shake it off. The black substance fell to the shore and shattered.
“The water gives her power,” Nile said.
“You think so?” Ashera asked.
The ocean washed up onto the shore, feeding in her dress, and she was given more power. She arched her fingers, widened her eyes, and shot a straight arrow from her hand. Nile threw up his sword to block it and the arrow hit the sword. The impact echoed through the beach and shattered into hundreds of pieces. Nile fell down and dropped his sword. The impact was so strong that his arms felt tense, almost strained from the force.
“Nile!” Ashera screamed. She dashed for him and knelt to his side.
Shebris watched.
“I’m all right,” Nile mumbled. “It was like hitting a wall.”
Nile reached for his sword, gasping for air. His face was red, and he could feel the life escape him as he fingered the sand for the steel and curvature of the blade. He grasped it, holding it tightly in the palm of his hand. He forced himself up. He stared at Shebris for a moment and saw the ocean coming toward the shoreline behind her.
He dashed.
Nile brought his sword out from the side, the wind splitting between the blade. Each foot fell a few inches in the sand, but Nile was not about to give up. He kicked the sand. She smiled at him, welcoming him to her. Just a few more yards and he would be at her, but the water touched her and she shot another arrow from her hands. Nile swung at the arrow and hit it, but the impact knocked him off his feet, and he came down with a thud in the sand. He rolled backward a few times and then came to a stop, staring at the sky. This time, he had no breath left.
Enaya: Solace of Time Page 31