'Think of Faric,' yelled Wist, for he couldn't think of anything else to do. 'He wouldn't have stopped. Christ, nothing could stop him.' That wasn't true. Tilden had cut his throat.
'Don't let him down,' said Wist. It wasn't fair, but it worked.
Tyla moved on, but something had changed. His simple, fluid movements were now exaggerated and dislocated. His progress halved, and all the while, the laval lake continued to grow in ferocity, but Wist remained quiet.
The knowledge that he would have to climb that rope gnawed at him. He looked to the Giants and thought that one of them might be able to carry him. Then he dismissed the thought. Wist had been carried like baggage before and he was done with passivity. If he fell then at least it would be over with, though he would have to get past his vertigo and get himself up the rope to start with.
Tyla paused only once to give the line another anchor point in the centre of its short span before he completed his journey. When he landed on the ledge, he signalled to the Giants to follow. Then he left the rest of the rope piled at the start of the ridge and walked into the darkness.
Wisp grasped the rope and climbed. It felt like an eternity before he reached the first anchor point. He could hear impatient grumblings from the Giants beneath him and he cursed himself, hating to be the cause of any delay. Once he was out of the way, the Giants could start their crossing.
At the top of the rope, he held tight and let his weight lean away from the wall as he prepared to take on the vertical part of the crossing. One of the Giant's shouted encouragements up at him, but Wist swore back at him or her. It was hard enough to bear his own weight, never mind trying to move forward. So he dragged his foot out and began to shuffle along the wall, swearing with each tiny movement, finding a peculiar strength in his curses.
As he approached the point where Tyla had paused, his back prickled with the heat, even this far up. His eyes stung and his hands, felt like they were coated in a layer of slick perspiration.
He heard a sludgy pop from beneath him as he moved out above the lava and seconds later the noxious fumes from below found him. He choked and spat in a futile attempt to clear his mouth and nose. The smell of sulphur and despair was thick here, but he wouldn't succumb to it. Not this time.
He punctuated the words with a step.
Not this time.
Not this time.
Not this time.
The toxic gas started to clear, but his head span. He kept his mantra going, spitting each word.
Not this time.
Not this…
The cord became a serpent in his hands - coiled and ready to strike. It had the thick body of a constrictor, but the grotesque head of a woman. And the face was the same one that came to him in his dreams.
But he ignored it. He grabbed the snake and imposed his own reality onto that from which his mind tried to escape. And as he shouted out his mantra in time with his footsteps, his vision cleared and the apparition evaporated, then he was back on the wall, high over the black and orange lake.
At the far end, Tyla had started to climb back up the rope to help him, but upon seeing Wist move, he dropped back down to the ledge.
Wist's breathing eased as he went and the lake beneath him quietened. This robbed him of most of the light, but he had no real use for it now. Its reflections on the stone only served to distract him from his purpose. So he spoke his mantra to himself, but this time without the vitriol and soon he was at the end of the horizontal section. The next section, the second vertical one, was short, and although his hands felt raw, he knew they could hold him for the few more minutes it would take to descend.
Moving down the rope was much simpler, but he jarred his leg on the rock shelf when he misjudged the distance of his last step. Tyla was behind him, of course, and the Lyrat helped him away and onto the thicker part of the ledge. A cheer went up from the Giants when Tyla signalled to them once more and they began to cross. The ever-resourceful Lyrat had left a torch. Wist shook his head and lifted the brand.
Wist thought about moving along the ledge to explore, but his lungs and legs still burned from the crossing, so he crouched down and kept the torch aloft to give Tyla some light to see by.
The Giants decided that haste was needed and by the time the first one – Brathoir – reached the midpoint, the next one began his ascent. Tyla was unbothered by this. Either he was confident that his work would hold or it was not his problem if they fell.
Brathoir's progress put Wist to shame. Wist had cut the Giant's leg off hours or perhaps days ago, and there he was, using his prodigious upper body strength to propel himself across the divide. It was Oinoir who followed him, trying to gain the respect of his troops no doubt; showing that he dared to go where two men and a cripple went.
The injured Giant was with them quicker than Wist could have believed. He slapped Wist on the back and asked 'Lose your nerve when you were up there?' with a hint of devilment in his voice. Wist bit back his reply and shrugged instead. The Giant laughed and patted Wist's shoulder. 'I think I would better off being a Hill Giant now.'
When Oinoir joined them, they had to shuffle along. Soon his comrades would join him and the rock here was only broad enough for two of them to stand together. So Wist and Brathoir shuffled along, and when another Giant landed beside Oinoir, he bowed to Tyla and relieved him of his duty. It allowed them to move off in earnest, with all of them hoping to find a way through.
Their torches threw garish patterns of light on the broken stone walls. As they made their way along, narrow fissures appeared in the rock walls and spreading downwards and out over the floor, forcing them to step over. Even Tyla was hesitant now.
'Why did you stop?' Wist said to the Lyrat. 'When you were on the wall, why did you stop?'
'I felt Aviti... Her pain.'
Aviti. Tilden had her. God-damn him.
'I can sense someone else too. Through her. At first, before, it was a… distant presence. Not delicate, but not brutal either. But, as we entered these caves, it changed. It was as if she was being crushed. I could feel her resistance too.'
Pressure built inside Wist as he heard Tyla's words. He had lost everyone. One by one his friends had left him: Eliscius and Faric, both slain; Nikka gone to the mountain with the crippled Giantess Haumea; and Aviti and Dregan lost.
But behind this, a deeper loss lay buried. The loss of his family - his real family - his murdered father and mother that blamed him and isolated him. Back in his other life in the real world. But what made that world any more real than this?
And then there was the woman. That face, that beautiful face that had come to him again and again. He had loved her.
'Tilden,' growled Wist, as he tried to keep the memories at bay, and the floor rumbled as if in reply. They pushed themselves against the wall, away from the edge. Any seismic movement in the cavern now would doom them. Wist forced himself to breath.
'That didn't feel like before,' Wist said. 'When I smashed Nikka's hammer.' When he had missed his chance to kill his brother.
Tyla nodded as looked across the lava, out across the blackness. Wist followed his gaze and a glint of light caught his eye. Then there was a scraping noise, like bones dragged across slate.
The Lyrat tensed and brought out his Katana, Oinoir likewise produced his blade. He shouted to his men to hold, but the two on the rope kept going. Less than half of the Giants had completed their crossing.
Eyes appeared in the darkness. First, a single pair, and then two more. Three pairs of eyes stared at them unblinking, from the roof of the cavern: a pair of yellowish gold flecked with silver, another deepest red and the last ebony. They were indistinguishable from darkness, but for the reflected torchlight.
'Dragonspawn,' said Oinoir and the words went whispered up the line. Then out of their black hiding places they crawled. Along the roof, they picked their way towards them. They must have slipped from the holes in the ceiling. Perhaps that was where their nests were, if such things roosted
like birds.
Claws at the end of venous wings grasped the roof. They moved at a steady pace, each of these beasts confident that they would eat today. The teeth were concealed, but Wist knew they would be there, ready to rip flesh and break bones. Wist saw slivers of light snake around their bodies. One of them showed sparkles of brilliant sapphire as it moved. Another revealed dazzling glints of red as its scaled body flexed and the third flashed yellow and gold.
Tyla offered a weapon to Wist – a short sword – its blade a little longer than a knife. There was a pattern of two undulating, intersecting lines that met at the point, carved into the blade. It was the same one he had held when the Waren confronted him and Aviti at the graveyard outside of Mashesh. The same dagger he had dropped in fear and Tyla had retrieved.
At a rumble from above, the three small dragons stopped their approach. One of them flicked its head backwards and squawked. It was such a ludicrous sound that Wist laughed before he could suppress it. He had expected a roar or a bellow at least. Brathoir poked him in the side.
A boulder fell from the roof behind the three creatures. The force of the impact spread out along the black surface of the creeping lava. But as its weight dragged it down to its doom, the light from the molten lava beneath poured out, illuminating the whole cavern. Then they saw what had caused the rock to fall; the source of the thunderous rumble.
The three smaller dragons cried raucously to their parent. Like children desperate to go and play, they called in frustration.
The dragon that had given birth to these creatures was much bigger, about the same as the other three combined. Where its progeny was smooth and sleek, it was ridged; a perfect camouflage in this ragged terrain. Wist wondered what a creature that size would need to hide from, but he didn't want to know the answer.
Then the parent gave a roar and the three were loose. As one, they turned and scrambled in to reach their prey, for that was what Wist and his company had become: food for a dragon's offspring.
Two of them headed for Wist, Tyla and the Giants on their ledge, whilst the other one, the red, went to attack the Giants who were still to make the crossing. The larger dragon contented itself with observing through its golden eyes. Wist readied himself for the assault.
The Giants on the rope were the first to die. The one nearest Wist fell to the lava when the dragon attacked. His cries were as loud as the dragons as flames devoured his flesh. Then his bones turned to dust and he was silent. But his comrades yelled; screaming defiance; trying to bolster their courage.
The second dragon fell upon them. It tried to pick up a Giant in its immature talons, but the Giant's comrades fell upon it and forced it to retreat. It flew back up to the roof where it clung on and howled in fury at the loss of its prey.
The third Dragonspawn attacked by trying to knock them off. It came at them, talons raised, wings beating back the air. Tyla flicked his katana at it and removed a claw. Oinoir tried to cut off a chunk of it, but he was caught out by the Lyrats rapid movement and he swiped at thin air when the dragon withdrew.
The larger dragon on the roof roared its disapproval at its children. The one that had retreated to the roof re-launched its attack. It swooped upon the group of Giants and threw them around like toys. The dragon picked one up and dashed it against the wall. He rebounded and lay limp at its feet. Then its brother joined it and they busied themselves slaughtering the rest.
Wist lunged at the dragon that Tyla had cut. He slashed downward with the dagger, cutting through the fibrous spread between the muscles of the wing. But he was too close. The wing whipped back and then lashed out. It caught Wist on the brow and sent him sprawling on the ground.
Tyla saw the opening that the young dragon's instinctive reaction created. He took a step forward into its reach and thrust his sword between two ribs. The Katana darted in and out and an instant later, the Lyrat stepped away so the spray of light red blood missed him.
Just as he had at the flood, Wist saw double impressions of the world, as if a secondary image overlaid the real one. But his vision cleared for a moment to see the creature collapse to the ground. Then the young dragon's yellow eyes rolled back and it fell from the ledge. Flashes of brilliant amber light escaped from beneath its scales as it went. An enraged roar issued from the mother when its offspring hit the lava. The cavern erupted with light when the surface was broken. Wist sat up against the wall, trying to clear his vision. He saw two huge dragons on the roof of the chamber, one copying the others movements. They dropped from the roof and spun, unfurling black wings as they fell.
Again, Wist's eyesight cleared and let him see the open maw of the beast. Lines upon lines of teeth, rotten and black, reflected shards of the ochre light from below. It had come to avenge the death of its child. This was the rage of a mother forlorn. And it headed straight at him and Tyla.
The Lyrat stood ready; the Giants Oinoir and Brathoir behind him, and the others that had made it across tried to reach them along the ridge. Wist's vision bifurcated once more making it impossible to focus, making it impossible for him to tell the difference between the real and the imaginary. He was sure he would know when one of them ate him.
It came at them from above and folded its wings in to accelerate as it approached. Wist struggled to his feet and stuck out the hand that held Tyla's dagger, like an old drunk trying to rob someone less fortune than himself.
He stumbled to the side and the Giants lurched as well, but Tyla stayed put. Then Wist fell backwards and the Dragon was upon him. The last thing he saw before it hit him was Brathoir swinging his huge fist, connecting with the beast, and the flash of Tyla's sword. Then blood engulfed Wist.
18 - The End of Silence
Trudging along the outer walls of the keep, Aviti and Sevika walked under the faltering sun. This was the first time she had been out of her cell since arriving here, apart from her audience with Krura. Sevika had simply asked Aviti if she wanted to breathe the outside air for a while.
The Intoli robe that Aviti now wore kept her warm. There was no way that its ephemeral material should have kept out the deepening cold, but it did. And when she pulled up her hood, she found it too warm to breathe, so she left the cowl down and drew in the air, despite the chill.
Aviti looked out over the forest that lay around this place. She spotted patches of brown among the leaves and the predominantly green foliage looked as if it was failing. 'What is happening to the trees?' she said without thinking. She had not meant to speak to her constant companion.
The Intoli looked puzzled for a second and then replied, 'Autumn.'
Aviti thought about this and she knew it made sense. Autumn in Mashesh brought storms and bursts of colour to some of the desert for a time, but it failed quickly. Life here was more deep rooted. She had not expected to see the rugged trees stripped of their vibrancy so easily.
'But it will return?' said Aviti.
'Perhaps not, this time,' said the Intoli. 'Should the … Waren prevail then we may be looking upon the last days of the Source.'
'Do you not think that I want the same thing as you?' said Aviti, her temper rising. 'Can you not see what is happening?'
'Ravan,' she laughed, 'that thing is not Ravan.' Sevika said nothing, but Aviti's link started to tingle, making her aware of its presence, as if she could ever have forgotten it. 'It is Tilden, not that the name will mean anything to you, not that any names mean too much apart from your own.' She no longer tried to hide the scorn from her voice. 'Sometimes I think he is the Waren incarnate… made flesh somehow.' She had mentioned him before, but what did it matter now?
'You cannot see it can you?' Aviti paused; she did not expect a reply. So she continued, 'He is the darkness you spoke of. And Krura, the loss of this Vigopa, it has left her...'
'Do not say it,' interrupted Sevika.
'Do not say what? That your Queen is quite mad with grief?' There was a sliver of pain through the bond this time, but Aviti was too far-gone, too committed to turn back no
w. 'Who could think that removing Dregan's eyes was a just punishment? And for what? What had he done? Had he displeased your Sakti?' She spat the epithet at Sevika.
'But that was not enough. She had to remove his eyes and melt his mouth too?'
'That was not the Sakti's doing,' Sevika said.
Not the Sakti? Aviti laughed as she thought it through. 'Of course not, she would not sully her hands with the mundane details of life would she; your Sakti?' The last words were a cry as Sevika filled Aviti with pain. It was a brief, desperate stab of pain that departed before it could bite.
'Pain means little to me,' Aviti gasped. It might only be half true, but she clung to it. 'Are you so scared of the truth that you must punish me?'
But Sevika was not listening. Instead, she looked over Aviti's shoulder.
The pain vanished and Aviti spun, expecting to see Tilden or the Waren or something familiar at least. But Sevika gazed far out past Aviti, out beyond the forest, far out to the west where the sun was dropping.
There, a line of light burned a path into the darkening sky. It ran straight and true, up from the earth into the night. Then it split into two. At first, Aviti though that she was imagining it, but as the lines drew apart, one deepened in colour to blue and the other burned crimson. The two lines turned and sped away north, fading as they went.
Aviti felt herself move as she was dragged along by Sevika's will. She tried to question Sevika, but the Intoli had locked herself back behind her façade.
They half stumbled, half ran back along the walls to the cavernous gate and rushed back in amongst the Intoli and enslaved humans that crawled about the outer courtyard. Sevika threw herself in amongst the throng, shoving both her fellow Intoli and the humans aside. Aviti tried to tell her that she would have been more able to walk if Sevika did not force her movements, but Sevika was desperate and deaf to her appeals.
Torches lit the courtyard, in preparation for the darkness, but it did nothing to lift Aviti's dread. Those lines of light in the sky frightened Sevika, but why? What did they signify?
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