The Reign of the Departed

by Greg Keyes

  “You can leave anytime,” Veronica said.

  “I intend to,” Dusk said, walking forward. Errol watched her come, wondering what she was up too, and he was still wondering that when she whipped out her sword and jabbed it at him. He just watched it happen, unbelieving.

  But Veronica believed. She slammed into him, sending him off balance and out of the path of the sword.

  Then Veronica screamed, the same hideous inhuman shriek she’d let loose when he dug her out of her hole. With horror, he saw the sharp tip of the blade sticking out of her back.

  The weapon flashed a cold, white color, and then Dusk yanked it out and in a single economical motion cut through Veronica’s neck and sent her head rolling across the grass. Her body wobbled on its feet for a few seconds, and then toppled over.

  “Oh, my God, no!” Errol screamed, and lurched toward Dusk.

  She sidestepped and he went stumbling by.

  “I offered you my love, Errol,” she said. “My companionship. I still offer it. You can come with me.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “Why?”

  “My reasons are my own. I need the water of health.”

  “Aster said we could each have one.”

  “I don’t trust her,” she said. “And even if I did, I need more than one vial. I’m sorry; it’s just the way it is.”

  “Leave Aster alone,” he said.

  Dusk smiled, a beautiful and terrible smile. “It’s too late for that,” she informed him.

  “What have you done?” he asked, stepping a little, trying to judge the distance.

  Her face set in grim lines.

  “It’s too late, isn’t it?” she said. “I can never trust you. You loved that thing.”

  “Arrh!” Errol shouted, slapping at her blade and diving forward.

  The blade suddenly wasn’t there; she avoided his hand with a simple flick of her wrist. He stumbled and turned.

  Just in time to see the blow that took his right leg off at the knee. He thudded clumsily to the ground. The pain was so immediate and impossible that he couldn’t even scream, at first. But he got around to it.

  “I like you, Errol,” Dusk said. “So I’m not going to kill you unless you make me.”

  She turned and briskly walked over to Drake. Errol tried to push himself up.

  “Really,” she said. “Stay down.”

  She patted Drake on the muzzle. “Time now, my beauty,” she said.

  The horse seemed to shiver, as if seen through a hot haze. When it was done, Drake still looked something like a horse, albeit with burning red eyes and black-feathered wings. And he was bigger, much bigger.

  Dusk swung up onto his back.

  “Farewell, Errol,” she said, and gave Drake her knee. He reared up on his hind legs, flapped his dark wings, and leapt into the air. They vanished over the top of the hedge and reappeared a moment later, a strange shape against the sky, dwindling.

  Errol meant to call something after her, but all that came out was a scream of rage. Then he collapsed.

  It was all over. Aster and Billy were probably dead. Veronica was decapitated. He’d screwed up again.

  The world seemed to flicker in and out, dark and light. He saw himself in the hospital bed. He saw the woman in white and her face, turning toward him.

  He saw Veronica, headless on the grass.

  “No!” he snarled.

  One vial of water remained. Dusk didn’t know Aster had given Veronica one of the vials. But if she stopped to count them, she might come back. He still had a chance, a chance to make all of this as right as he could.

  He pushed himself up on one knee and crawled toward Veronica’s head.

  “Veronica?” he gasped. “Can you hear me?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He found her with her eyes open, but they were glassy and still. Starting to sob, he dragged the head back over to her body and tried to stick it back on, but it wouldn’t stay.

  “Oh, yeah,” he muttered. He reached into her pocket and pulled out the little vial. He opened it with trembling fingers.

  Was she supposed to drink it? He remembered Aster had just flicked the water of life onto her, back in her in-between.

  He sprinkled some along both sides of her severed neck.

  “Please,” he said. “Come on, please.”

  He pushed the body and head together.

  Nothing happened.

  “Veronica,” he said. “Come on.” He sprinkled a little more of the water on her face and abdomen.

  Then Veronica opened her mouth and finished the scream Dusk had so abruptly cut off. Her eyes darted about wildly.

  He looked at the bottle. It was half empty. He stoppered it and put it in his pocket.

  Veronica sat up and her gaze focused on him.

  “Again,” she gasped, feeling her neck. But he didn’t even see a scar. The wound in her belly was gone, as well.

  “You used it, didn’t you?” she murmured. “The water of health.” She seemed dazed, which more than made sense.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry, but you were—I couldn’t leave you like that.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. Then she eased back.

  “Still no heartbeat,” she said. “Still no breath. Dusk was right.”

  “It’s okay,” Errol said. “I don’t care about that. I don’t.”

  She smiled and touched her forehead against his.

  “Why did Dusk do it?” she asked. “I knew she was up to something, but—”

  “Aster,” Errol gasped. He struggled to rise and then remembered he couldn’t.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Veronica asked.

  “Dusk cut off my leg,” he said. “It hurts.”

  “Cut off your leg?” She pushed him back and saw.

  “Well, that’s not right,” she said. She got shakily up, found his leg and brought it back.

  “Was there any water left?” she asked.

  “No,” he lied. “I had to use it all.”

  “We’ll get some of Aster’s then.”

  “Dusk already has the rest,” he said. “We’ve got to find Aster and Billy.”

  “You can’t walk!” she said.

  “Find me something to use as a crutch,” he said, “and I’ll for damn sure walk.”

  She looked around, but he could see as well as she that there weren’t any fallen branches at all, much less one in a convenient shape. Finally she bent and put her shoulder under his arm.

  “I’ll be your crutch until we come across something better,” she said.

  Aster first became aware of hands stroking down her arms and legs, and warmth following them. Her abdomen and face came next, flushing full of blood and heat. When her eyelids finally unstuck she found Billy beside her, features full of concern.

  “Good,” he murmured.

  “What happened?”

  “Dusk froze us,” he said. “You more than me. I was giant a few hours ago, so I’m still a little in-between.”

  “Dusk froze me?”

  “Like the river,” he said.

  “Yes, I remember,” she said. “I meant Dusk froze me? Why?”

  “Uh, huh,” Veronica said. She was sitting on Billy’s bed. Errol lay next to her. “I hate to say this, but I told you so.”

  Then she frowned a little. “Actually, no, it felt pretty good to say that. All in all.”

  “She took the water of health,” Errol said. “She said she needed more than one vial.”

  It was then that Aster noticed Errol’s—injury.

  “What the hell happened to your leg?”

  “Dusk cut it off,” Errol said.

  “Right after she cut off my head,” Veronica put in.

  Aster stared at her, wondering if she had heard her right.

  “She cut off your head?” she said, at last.

  Aster slumped back against the banister, feeling sick. How could everything go so completely and suddenly wrong? />
  “After all of this,” she said. “For nothing.”

  Then she remembered. “Wait. The vial I gave Veronica.”

  “You notice her head is back on,” Errol said. “I used it.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She looked back at the stump of Errol’s limb.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “All of you. I thought I knew what I was doing. The arrogance, to think I—” she suddenly couldn’t talk because she was bawling. She knew she should be embarrassed, but all of the dams she had built to keep her tears in were swept away in an instant.

  “What have I done?” she sobbed.

  “You gave us a chance,” Errol said.

  “Look at you!” she said, waving at his stump. “And all of us, so far from home.”

  She put her face in her hands so she didn’t have to see them. Nobody said anything while she cried herself out, until great heaves finally gave way to hiccupy sobs.

  “Everyone,” Errol said, then. “Could you leave Aster and me alone for a minute?”

  Billy looked at her, and she nodded. She watched the two of them file out, wiping at the tears still running down her cheeks.

  “You remember,” Errol said, when they were alone, “when we used to do those comic books together?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Why did we stop doing that?”

  “Because you stopped liking me, Errol.”

  “I didn’t,” he said. “I don’t know what happened. I mean I do, but it wasn’t something I did on purpose. And I wish I never had. I wish we had kept doing that stuff together, because if we had maybe my life wouldn’t have gotten so screwed up.”

  For a moment she could only stare at him in astonishment.

  “Or maybe just screwed up in a different way,” she said at last. “I mean, look at me.”

  “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  “You were my only friend, Errol,” she whispered. “My only friend in strange place. And you abandoned me.”

  Then she covered her face again. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “But it’s true,” he said. “That’s how it turned out. But we’re friends now, right? Again?”

  “Are we?”

  “I think so. Look—you saved me, Aster.”

  “I wanted to save you, Errol,” she said. “But without the water of health—”

  “I don’t mean like that,” he said. “You know what I mean.”

  She studied his nearly-human face, and felt something like a little flower bloom in her, something good amidst everything awful.

  “I wanted that too,” she admitted. “I hoped if I brought you here, and we had a little adventure together . . .” She didn’t finish.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

  He took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a half-empty vial.

  “It only took half to put her back together,” he said. “I didn’t tell her because she would have wanted to use it on my leg, and I’m not sure I could have stopped her.”

  Her heart seemed to stop in her chest as she gazed at what he held.

  “Errol,” she breathed.

  “Is it enough to help your father?”

  “I think so,” she said. “It should be. But . . .”

  But your leg, she thought. And Billy.

  “I’ll get along without my leg,” he said. It felt like he was reading her mind. “Heck, maybe you can reattach it. I’m still not a real boy. If I was, I would have bled to death. So I’m a work in progress.”

  She slowly reached and took the vial from him.

  “Thank you Errol,” she said. She put the water in her pocket.

  “Thank you,” he returned.

  Then she gave him a hug. It felt awkward at first, but when he squeezed her back, it was nice.

  There came a little knock at the door. She pulled away from Errol a little guiltily.

  It was Billy.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “But trouble is coming.”

  FIVE

  THE TROUBLE THAT CAME

  For David, the days, nights, forests, deserts, seas, and grasslands all streamed by in his peripheral vision, as if he were flying through a tunnel with his gaze always fixed on the light at the end of it. The shining star now had his complete attention. The smell of rot, the chatter of the boys, and the tug of the lashings that kept him on Melzheyas became meaningless sensations. He had become his purpose.

  They reached the floating mountain during the night, but David could see the light shining from the little castle at its summit. The dead dragon circled and then landed in the courtyard, the place nearest Aster that would accommodate his size. Then Melzheyas flew again, coiling himself around the uppermost tower to keep watch.

  “Force them up,” the Sheriff told the boys. “Find the ways down and guard them.”

  And so they entered the castle. David noted without much interest that it was made of gold.

  Zhedye,” Aster swore. “How did they get here?”

  “I don’t know,” Billy said. “I didn’t hear them until they were already in the castle.”

  “That means they probably have the lower floor pretty much locked up,” Errol said. “If we go down, we go into an ambush.”

  “Why don’t we go up?” Veronica suggested.

  “Because we can’t fly?” Errol rejoined.

  “But there might be a place up there where Billy can do his giant thing again, and we can just walk out of here. Obviously as long as he has a roof over him he can’t.”

  “Maybe,” Billy said. “I know of a tower lookout that might be big enough. The footing would be tricky, and coming down the causeway dangerous—that’s why I didn’t carry you up it. But I think I can do it.”

  “Billy, wait,” Aster began and stopped. She frowned her dangerous little frown.

  “Let’s—let’s just make a stand,” she muttered.

  Holy socks, Errol thought. Has she lost it?

  “I’m missing a leg,” he pointed out. “And we don’t have Dusk anymore. I know you’ve got some pretty strong juju, but still . . .”

  “Sure,” Aster muttered. She was still thinking. He could practically see the wheels spinning in her head, but toward what he couldn’t tell.

  “They’re coming,” Billy said. “We have to go.”

  “You wouldn’t have to be a giant long,” Aster said. “Just long enough to get us away from here. Then we think of something else.”

  “Yeah,” Billy said. “Come on. I know where the closest stair is.”

  He got under Errol’s arm, and together they made for the stair. Errol wondered at Aster’s odd comment. What was the problem with Billy taking them all the way to the Hollow Sea, at least? Because the sheriff had obviously found a fast lane, too. He was missing something.

  Somewhere, the hounds were baying.

  They came out of the stair into a huge, darkened room. The sky showed through four large archways, one of which was quite near. In the center of the room a water fountain cheerfully rose and cascaded into a marble basin. For a moment, Errol wondered how they drew the water up, but then realized he was being ridiculous—they were, after all, on a floating mountain.

  Through one of the archways was another tower, another spiraling stair. Billy went first, practically carrying him. Veronica and Aster brought up the rear.

  High above, Errol could see a slice of night sky.

  It seemed a long time before they reached the top of the tower, but finally they stumbled from the uppermost landing. Crenellated walls enclosed a courtyard roof the size of a basketball court.

  Which was already occupied by a very large pile of something that stank to high heaven.

  “A corpse,” Aster gasped.

  “Of what?” Errol demanded.

  “Dragon,” Billy clarified.

  Veronica didn’t say anything, because she wasn’t with them anymore. Errol stared back down the stairs, but she was nowhere in sight.

  “Veronica!�
�� he shouted.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Oh man,” Errol said. “What the hell does she think she’s doing?”

  But he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that.

  “We’ll go back,” Aster said. “We’ll go back and fight.”

  She was willing to. He saw it in her eyes.

  “No,” Errol said. “Not ‘we’. Billy—would you please give me your gun?”

  “Errol,” Aster said. “No.”

  That’s when the dragon corpse raised a head the size of a Buick.

  “Aster Kostyena,” it hissed. “You are now mine.”

  “Zhedye!” Aster squeaked. They ducked back into the cover of the stairs.

  “Okay,” Errol said, after a moment. “Now we know how they got here.”

  “This is a problem,” Aster said. “Big problem.”

  “And not one I can do much about,” Errol said. “You deal with this. I’ll go get Veronica.”

  She sighed, and their gazes locked for a long moment.

  “Yes,” she said, softly. “Okay. But hurry back.”

  “Yeah,” Errol said. “I will. Billy?”

  Billy handed him the rifle and the pouch he kept his shells in. “Thanks Billy,” Errol said. “You’re a good guy.”

  “You too.”

  “So long,” Errol said, and began hopping down the stairs, supporting himself against the wall.

  David led the Sheriff and his posse through the golden castle, trying not to let on how sick he was. The man he had been when this journey started would never have managed it, but he had found his ancient, obstinate core. He couldn’t keep it up forever, but he knew that soon an opportunity would present itself.

  He was right. They passed into a gallery filled with crystalline sculptures of fabulous beasts, and at the end of it a doorway that actually had a door in it. Like the castle itself, it appeared to be made of gold. It stood slightly open, and a golden key protruded from a lock beneath the handle.

  “She’s through there,” David said. “Not far.”

  The Sheriff didn’t say anything, but David knew the drill. He dropped to the back; the Sheriff didn’t want his compass getting tagged by a stray bullet.

  One of the boys—they were difficult to tell apart now—eased the door open. To David’s relief, a corridor ran on from it, with another door at the end.