Forever the Road (A Rucksack Universe Fantasy Novel)

by Anthony St. Clair

  “We keep getting lost on the how,” Amma said now. “Let’s assume we know the how. The Smiling Fire can be stopped, and the souls can be restored to living bodies. How does that happen?”

  “It’s a matter of redirection,” Jigme’s father said. “The Smiling Fire does not make his own life, he only steals it from others. The only way the Smiling Fire can be destroyed is to empty him of all energy, like turning the flame off a stove. Emptied of all fire of life, he will die. If some of that energy can be redirected, so that instead of fleeing out into the world it comes here, to the souls, then the souls and the energy could form new bodies, and these people could return to the world. There is no guarantee that all will return. The energy is only an opportunity, not a choice already made. Each soul must be strong. Each must want to live.”

  “If they don’t,” Jigme said, “Then they will fully die. What happens then?”

  “That is a question only they will be able to answer.”

  As his father spoke, Jigme felt a question spark and burn inside him. “Will we also be able to go back?”

  There was a long silence.

  “Your mother and I must confer,” Jigme’s father said at last.

  In the longer silence that followed, Jigme looked out into the world again, trying to distract himself from the despair and hope battling in his soul. The Smiling Fire had brought Jade back to the surface. He laid her unconscious body on the obsidian block that covered the entrance to his chamber. Then he tied her to the block by her wrists and ankles.

  But there was a chance, Jigme thought. There has to be.

  As the moon and the sun drew nearer to one another, the Smiling Fire set the dia ubh in a small round depression at the head of the stone slab, a few inches away from Jade’s hair. In the small crack on the surface of the dia ubh, Jigme saw the barest silver and gold glint, like the birth of a spark.

  Jay has to be close, he thought. He has to be coming.

  Jigme looked all around, wondering.

  No one came near.

  “Son,” said his mother.

  Jigme looked away from the outside world. The way she said that one word, despair rushed through him. He had feared the answer he already knew to be right.

  “You and Father can go back,” Jigme said. “But I can’t.”

  “What was his name, Jigme?” Amma asked. “What was the name of the first boy you brought to the Smiling Fire?”

  “I… I can’t,” Jigme said, feeling the memory of tears. Sadness then filled every part of his soul. Jigme saw the boy in his mind, saw his bright eyes and the hope on his face. Jigme could even still feel the happiness in his grip when the boy held his hand, as they walked through the gleaming, bustling, bright city of Agamuskara, past the empty stand of The Mystery Chickpea, down the alley, past the red door, to the temple…

  To the death of the first child.

  “Isn’t he here with you too?” Jigme said.

  “He is not,” his father replied, bursting with regret and sadness. “You brought the first boy before I had given myself to the Smiling Fire. I was able to save all those he has consumed since my own decimation. The first boy is lost to us all.”

  “And because of that,” Jigme said, “I do not get another chance.”

  “You regret,” Jigme’s father said. “But regret is not enough for redemption.”

  “But why you? Why Amma?” Jigme asked, anger rushing through him. “Why am I the only one who can’t have another chance?”

  “Your mother did not act of her own accord,” his father replied. “You did.”

  “But I am sorry.”

  “That matters,” his father said. “But it is not enough.” The kindness and gentleness in the old man’s voice only further enflamed Jigme’s anger.

  “Son,” his father continued, “you cannot even say his name. Even if you could…”

  “It still wouldn’t be enough,” Jigme replied. “You were able to live here. You have been powerful enough to save all these other souls. Why not mine too? You said you wanted to do so much for me. Why not this?”

  “There are worlds separating what I can do, what I have done, and what I should do,” his father replied. “As for me and your mother, we will not return.”

  “What do you mean?” Jigme said. “You have a chance to live. That’s more than what I have. Why won’t you take it?”

  “To give you a chance,” his father said. “To have an alternative, in case there is no other option. I have lived long, Jigme. Longer than you can imagine. My soul’s power has waned, but it is still vast. One way or another, my duty in the world is done. There either will be no world to protect from the Smiling Fire or there will be no Smiling Fire to protect the world from. What is left of my life I will give to help these others live again. I give it gladly. I have little hope to offer you, but such that I can is yours, along with the love that should have been yours all your life.”

  “You’ve never given me anything before,” Jigme said, flooded with spite. “Why start now?”

  “My son,” Asha said. “I am sorry. And no, that is not enough. I too will pass on, will give all that is left of me. There is nothing left for me in the world, and my life is not as I wish it could have been. I was not the mother for you that I should have been or wished I had been. If I can die and it brings you back, I die gladly. If I can die and bring back these others too, I die gladly. Live with my love, son. I take my regret with me.”

  “But I just die,” Jigme said.

  “There may be ways that we cannot see,” Amma replied. “We hope that it is so. Even if you must fully die, Jigme, at least you also may choose the manner in which you do so.”

  “Maybe I should just fade away,” Jigme said. “Or let it all happen. Be consumed as the others are. Or watch them escape while I burn. If there’s no chance to live again, why bother with anything else? Why not just be done with it all? What did life ever really give me, anyway? All I had was you, Mum. Now I won’t even have that.”

  “Jigme,” Asha said. “My son—”

  “I don’t care,” he said. “I just don’t care. Let it all burn. What’s it good for, anyway? Why bother with life at all when it’s just cruel and thoughtless?”

  His mother and father had no reply.

  Jigme turned his focus back to the world outside. The Smiling Fire was looking at Jade, who was still unconscious. Jigme remembered how smart she was, how beautiful, how vibrant and alive. She had been kind.

  And the Smiling Fire is going to kill her, Jigme thought. He has killed so many, and now he’s going to kill more. What has she done to deserve this death? Doesn’t she deserve to live?

  If she does, who else does?

  His anger dimmed.

  “You have tried to save me and the others,” Jigme said. “But it’s my own actions that helped bring this about too. If I hadn’t helped him… If I hadn’t believed his lies… maybe none of this would be happening.”

  “Maybe,” Amma said. “Or maybe this was always the destiny that had to unwind eventually. I know only that, regardless of where we go in life, we must do what we can.”

  “You are willing to die for me and for the others,” Jigme said to his parents. Something in him blazed up, but it was not anger. “Even if I can’t come back, it doesn’t matter. I will fight for you, for them. I will do all I can to stop the Smiling Fire. Even if it kills me. If by fighting or dying I can stop him, then at least in death I tried to make good for what I did wrong in life.”

  Before they could reply, Jigme turned back to looking at the outside world.

  The moon began to cover the sun. Far at the edge of the Smiling Fire’s sight, two people approached.

  THE TAXI PULLED AWAY and the blackened city crunched under Jay’s feet. He watched the cab disappear. Dust and exhaust trailed up in a large gray plume.

  “Before you even start to think it,” said a familiar voice, “this isn’t your fault.”

  The plume faded as Rucksack passed through it
. In his black clothes, he looked like a walking shadow.

  Jay shook his head. “If I had stayed—”

  “If you had stayed,” Rucksack said, “maybe you would’ve been killed. Maybe Jade or I would be dead too. Maybe more would have died. I could just as easily say Mum should’ve stayed, but she didn’t and you didn’t. All that mattered is what happened, and all that matters is what happens now.”

  “I shouldn’t have abandoned you and Jade. That wasn’t right.”

  “You felt betrayed,” Rucksack said. “In some ways, we did betray you.”

  “You didn’t let me have a say,” Jay replied. “Maybe I would’ve chosen to stay, even though I had my passport back.”

  “I can understand if you’re still angry.”

  They stared at each other and said nothing.

  Jay stuck out his hand. After a moment, Rucksack shook it.

  “There are more important things,” Jay said. “I forgive you, Faddah Rucksack, you evasive gobshite.”

  “And I you,” Rucksack said, returning Jay’s grin. “You thick eejit.”

  They looked at the sky. The rich midday blue was only just deepening and darkening as the moon covered the sun.

  “I suppose we’d best be off then,” Rucksack said.

  “I’d hate to be late,” Jay replied. “It could be our own funerals, after all.”

  They started walking toward the heart of the city.

  “Do you think this could’ve been prevented?” Rucksack asked.

  Jay shook his head. “Life has waited a long time for this, Rucksack. All living things versus the Smiling Fire,” Jay said. “The world tolerates a lot, but a moment like this was always in the works. The place for it happened to be here. The time for it happened to be now. And it wound up being up to me. All you did was try to keep me on track.”

  “I wish I could take this burden from you, Jay.” Rucksack clenched and unclenched his left hand. “If I were as I once was…”

  “You could be all that you were,” Jay replied. “You could be all that you’re going to be, Rucksack, and this still wouldn’t be your responsibility. Remember what you said to me? The other gods weren’t the right gods for this fight. You aren’t a god. You’re far more, really, but this fight is up to the world, to existence itself. Sometimes things have to come down to regular people who find themselves in impossible circumstances. Then we have to learn that far more is possible than we let ourselves imagine before.”

  “You would think that it would come down to me, you know?” Rucksack said. “I helped stop this thing before I was even born.”

  “Not all things work like that,” Jay replied. “The Smiling Fire doesn’t understand enough of life, enough of us, to have any idea that one is different from another. Maybe he would have recognized Kailash, but I don’t think so. The only thing he might see you as is a juicier, spicier meal than a typical human. You and Kailash played a part then, but times have changed. What’s needed has changed. So have you.”

  Jay clapped Rucksack on the shoulder and said, “Long as it is, mate, your story has hardly begun. I don’t know the how and why and where of all that’s ahead for you, but I got a glimpse. You said that helping me do this would put you back on the path to your destiny. It does. I’m glad it does too. I don’t know what’s coming, but I know that when you face what you’re ultimately here to sort out, the Smiling Fire will seem about as big a deal as a stubbed toe.”

  “Why, Jay of the road,” Rucksack said. “When did you get all wise and profound?”

  “Your mother gave me a crash course,” Jay replied. “I intend to honor her sacrifice.”

  For a moment the men said nothing. Rucksack’s eyes dimmed. “I always figured Mum would want to go only when it meant exchanging her mortal life for the good o’ another,” Rucksack said. “Bittersweet as it is that she’s gone, at least I got to see her again.”

  “Is she dead?” Jay asked.

  “Her mortal self is,” Rucksack replied. “But I think she’d been ready a long time to let that go. She is the mountain now, Jay. The world mountain. We get through this, I bet we’ll be seeing her again.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  Up ahead stood a dark figure, tall and thin like a flame made of shadow.

  “Aye,” Rucksack said. “Though I suppose that’ll be the last comfort we have for a while.”

  Jay set down his backpack and checked that the daypack was still fastened to it. With a sigh and a pat, he left his backpack behind.

  As they walked on, Jay tried to grin, but fear surged up too. “If I make it out alive, I’m going to be thirsty,” he said. “If we both survive this, how about we grab a pint later?”

  Rucksack chuckled, but fear shone in his eyes too. “You’re on.”

  “Just in case we don’t get another chance,” Jay said, “it’s been a pleasure. Faddah Rucksack, I’m glad I met you. I’m glad to call you my friend.”

  “Likewise,” Rucksack replied. “There’s many the time I’ve despaired, Jay, but meeting you… earning and losing and regaining your friendship… it gives me a lot to look forward to in the world again.”

  Silent as they continued, Jay and Rucksack now could see the red gleam of the Smiling Fire’s face. They stopped a few yards away.

  The Smiling Fire stepped to one side. Jade was tied to the obsidian block.

  “A damsel in distress?” Rucksack said. “I wouldn’t have thought that was your style.”

  Jade strained to look at them. “Who the hell are you calling a damsel?” She saw Jay. “Oh. You came back.”

  “I came to say I’m sorry.”

  “Save the world,” she replied, “and I’ll consider that apology accepted.”

  The Smiling Fire looked back and forth between them. His eyes flickered.

  Jay said, “Rucksack and I are going for a pint later. Will you join us?”

  “Sure.” Jade laughed. “But you and I have to have a serious discussion after. God or not, you’ve got some explaining to do, backpack boy.”

  “It’s a date.”

  “You’ll bloody well wait until I tell you what it is.”

  The Smiling Fire raised an arm. “Enough.”

  “The dia ubh!” Rucksack said.

  The crack in the dia ubh had gotten wider and longer. Silver and gold glinted inside.

  “When will it break open?” Jay asked.

  “When the eclipse is total,” Rucksack answered.

  The moon now covered most of the sun.

  The Smiling Fire let the dia ubh go.

  Instead of falling, it ascended. The dia ubh floated until it was directly above them, just far enough away to remain out of reach, yet so close it seemed they could leap up and grab it. As the dia ubh rose, the sky darkened. The moon continued eating the sun.

  “At last,” the Smiling Fire said. He reached into the shadows of his chest. The slanted edges of a piece of obsidian, as long as Jay’s forearm, tapered to a sharp point that glinted even in the dying light.

  The Smiling Fire held the knife high over his head. “Now, you all die,” he said. Flames spilled from his grin as it widened. “Beginning with her.”

  The knife plunged.

  JAY DIDN’T KNOW if he was going to scream or speak or find he could not voice a word. He stepped forward, but the air had turned to treacle. His leg must have been moving, but everything about his body was happening way too slowly.

  The only thing clear was the absent space next to him where Rucksack had been standing. As the knife began its downward arc to Jade’s heart, a blur shimmered in a line all the way to where the Smiling Fire stood. Moonlight—or was it sunlight?—glinted off the black point of the obsidian blade.

  She’s going to die, Jay thought. She’s going to die.

  The blade pierced the last shreds of air between it and Jade’s chest.

  Then there was no blade.

  The Smiling Fire staggered backward, falling and tumbling across the rubble.

  R
ucksack turned around. He spun the knife in his right hand so the blade pointed out like a fencer’s sword.

  “Stay out o’ this as best you can,” he said to Jay.

  The ferocity in Rucksack’s eyes blazed brighter than full sun. “All we have to do is hold the bastard off until the dia ubh opens,” he said. “You keep yourself alive and out o’ his way. Position yourself so the moment that light shines, it shines on you.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Whatever it takes.” Rucksack glanced down. “All right then, Jade?” he said. Rucksack sliced through the tethers that tied her to the block. He went around to the other side and sliced the ties there too.

  Jade sat up and swung off the block, rubbing her wrists.

  “Jay,” she said. “Whatever you do when the time comes, don’t kill him.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Jay replied. “That’s been the whole point of my destiny. I have to kill him, Jade.”

  “There’s something you don’t know.”

  “The only thing I know is I don’t have a choice anymore,” Jay said. “This is how it has to be. It’s him or the world. I choose the world. The moment I become the god, I’m going to kill him.”

  The Smiling Fire stood. “You cannot kill me,” he said, moving toward Jay. “But I will have your blood.”

  “Not yet,” Jay replied. He threw a rock. The Smiling Fire halted for a moment then continued forward.

  Jade ran toward them. She leaped through the air, and her knees knocked into the Smiling Fire’s back.

  He stumbled but righted himself and turned. Jade regained her own balance. They circled each other and locked eyes.

  Jay ran toward the obsidian block, stopping when he stood beneath the dia ubh.

  “Where is it, then?” Jade asked through the sharp scythe of her smile, her hands balled in fists near her face. “You’ve spent weeks leveling the city. Flames used to spring up wherever you so much as walked or looked. Surely you can barbecue a former bartender.”