Dropping the weapon in exhaustion, Coram turned back to Rose. She was collapsed against the wall, her body starving for breaths, Orange Blossom licking her face. He rushed over to her, fear in his eyes. “Rose!”
And that fear intensified when the ceiling cracked wide open, the storm breaking through, the rain pouring in and the wind sweeping through the halls, spreading Bahgdaal’s ashes far and wide. All around them the castle began to crumble. Piece after piece came falling down, a large chunk of dark material smashing just beside Rose’s slumped body.
“It’s all going to come down!” Meadowrue cried. Her stumps were still in place, though they protruded even more now.
“We have to get out of here,” Eo said, his body marked with deep gashes, like long rivers of blood.
Coram bent down and helped lift Rose. There was little life in her, her body deadweight. She only had enough strength to put her arm around his shoulders while he took care of the rest. She had always wanted to be swept off her feet, but not like this. Not like this.
They hurried out into the hall, racing past Ridge’s charred husk. Rose glanced back, a weak hand reaching out as a large brick fell from the ceiling and crushed what was left of her friend.
The walls were coming down fast all around them. Holes opened up in the floors. Steps crumbled beneath their feet.
“The Abomination’s here!” Meadowrue cried.
Coram pulled Rose closer to his body. He spoke low and with deep concern. “Rose, your voice …”
“I’ll be fine,” she lied. “I didn’t use much.”
“Rose, we need you at your strongest.”
“You’re right. I guess I shouldn’t have saved you,” she croaked.
Coram shook his head. “You’re all that matters.”
“Just say thank you, you idiot.”
Coram smiled. “Thank you.”
As he carried her down the stairs, arching his back over her, protecting her from the falling debris, she eased her head against his chest. But even with all the danger around them, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was staring at her. It was like she was back at school and had done something stupid. But she didn’t burn up in embarrassment; she didn’t cringe at the attention. Instead, her eyes rose up and met his. The look he gave her was so strong, so powerful, that Rose knew she would never fear anyone’s gaze ever again. “When I’m gone,” he said to her, “I hope I dream. And when I dream, I hope it’s of you.”
Rose closed her eyes and thought that if she had to, she’d dream for the both of them. It was all she had left now.
By the time they reached the door, the castle was ready to come down. They raced across what was left of the bridge, leaping over huge gaps, and when they looked back, the pyramid came to pieces, chunk by large chunk falling into the water, waves crashing to the shore.
They were safe, but it was only a momentary safety. There was no time for relief, no matter how battered and bruised they were, no matter how tired and scared. They were in the middle of a storm now, and this dark and terrible storm brought with it a tremendous sea of white. It surrounded them, engulfed them. A hundred white shapes.
The Abomination’s satellites were waiting.
The Abomination has planned for this moment,” Rose said, back on her feet, the monster’s thoughts so clear in her head it was like having two minds. “That’s why we haven’t encountered any satellites since Summercress Castle. Instead of sending them out one or two at a time, it’s been saving them for one last line of defense. An army to finish us off once and for all.”
Coram, his face grave, turned to Meadowrue and Eo and said, “We can’t let them get to Rose.”
“I’ve come this far,” Rose told him, pulling him around so that they faced each other. “I can handle myself.” But as she said these words, her legs gave out beneath her. She crumbled to the ground, her knees lost in the thick mud, her body shivering in the icy rain. It was difficult to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head, the disease taking a forceful hold.
Coram kneeled before her. “I know you can. But you’re not well. You need your strength. No matter what happens to us, Rose, you have to move on to face the Abomination. If we die now, you take our weapons, and you do whatever you can to stop it. Understand?”
It wasn’t what Rose wanted to hear at all. She didn’t want talks of death or of being on her own. Where was the confidence Coram had carried all this time? Where was his faith? Still, she nodded, because she knew it had to be done. The Abomination had to be stopped at all costs, even if that meant she would face it alone.
“We’ll do what we can with the satellites,” Coram continued. “But you can’t be involved in this fight. No magic. I know how well you listened the last time I said that, so I need you to promise me.”
“Coram—”
“Rose, without you, Eppersett doesn’t have a chance. Your brother doesn’t have a chance. So please, for them. For all of us. Promise.”
Rose glanced down at her hands—every inch was covered in the disease. Her entire body was now pale white, save for her face. But how much longer before that was engulfed too? And if she didn’t stop the Abomination, how long before everyone in Eppersett shared the same fate? She thought of her brother, a lifetime in a bed, alive but not. Locking eyes with Coram, she said, “I promise.”
Coram nodded and stood, leaving her with his old sword. Then, facing the coming onslaught, he said, “It’s time we finished this.”
Before the fight was to begin, Rose dug into her shirt and pulled out Orange Blossom. With both hands, she held the quivering Panatoo level with her eyes and said, “I want to thank you for everything you did for me, Blossom. The company you provided, the support. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you. But you have to go now. This is no place for you.”
She put Orange Blossom down, but as if stuck in the mud, the Panatoo didn’t move.
“Go,” Rose said, nudging it along, the rain concealing her tears. “Before the satellites attack. Please. I can’t have anything happen to you.”
Orange Blossom skittered closer and nuzzled against her leg. It seemed to be whimpering. Biting her lower lip, Rose stroked its glowing bristles.
“I want you to be safe,” she said. “There’s no need for you to sacrifice yourself. You’re free. Go. Find friends. Find your family. Be happy. I’ll do everything I can to give you that chance.”
Orange Blossom took a few steps to the north, then stopped and looked back, its head low. Rose kneeled there in the rain, shoulders slumped. How was she ever going to succeed when she already felt so defeated? She had said goodbye to Deedubs and Ridge, and soon, whether she succeeded or not, she would have to say goodbye to everyone else. As Orange Blossom’s nose twitched, Rose waved and blew a kiss, and as the Panatoo skittered off into the distance, it glowed as bright as she had ever seen it. It carried a warmth and a light she could only wish she would someday experience again.
When it was well out of sight—hidden by a downpour so intense even the orange glow was eventually lost—Rose managed to stand and find her footing, her body wobbling in the thick mud. Ahead in the distance, the satellites were a wide swath of fallen clouds with deep cracks of darkness. She could see the black of their depths as they opened their mouths and widened their eyes in hunger. They were cysts of the Abomination, and they were all sorts of shapes and sizes, one more grotesque than the next. Some were thirty feet tall, while others were the size of dogs and quivering with frenzy. Some had wings, some had tails, but they all had teeth, and they were sharp and bared.
They came at once, and what was left of the Order bravely met them head-on. It was a clash that blinded Rose’s eyes. The gold of their weapons broke through the gloom of the storm like fireballs from the sun. It was a far different reaction than when they had fought Bahgdaal. Here, at the slightest touch, the satellites were in pure agony, and Rose could see why the Abomination so feared these enchanted weapons. Eo’s spikes flew in all directions, ripping
apart the white of the horizon and spreading its inner darkness across the saturated ground. The black blood mixed with the rain and the mud like a toxic soup, the ground bubbling. Meadowrue’s entire body was covered in this mess as she fired arrow after arrow with uncanny speed. They flew straight through one satellite’s head and then penetrated the next and the next after that, as if the creatures were indeed nothing but clouds. The steel of Coram’s sword was lost in a column of fire. Whenever it was swung, the flames dragged behind it, a wave that carried and crashed against the satellites, shriveling them into black goo.
Rose watched in awe and pride as the enemies’ numbers dwindled one by one. It was clear her friends had something they were fighting for, something so much bigger than themselves. They couldn’t be stopped. It was like they were fifty feet tall. Rose only wished she could help, especially as she felt the Abomination’s fear course through her body as if it were her own.
But this thought was knocked clear out of her head when a tail crashed against her stomach, sending her flying and tumbling through the mud. Her breath shriveled up inside her lungs, but she had enough of her mind to realize that if she hadn’t sent Orange Blossom away, the poor thing would have been crushed against her skin. On the ground, gasping and clutching for air, she watched as the white monstrosity came her way.
It was in the shape of a crocodile—if crocodiles walked on two legs. It had a huge snout, with many sharp teeth, opened wide in preparation for its feast.
Like a hammer, the mouth came smashing down, missing Rose by mere inches. She had quickly tumbled to the side, her ribs feeling as if they were powder in her chest, and as she continued to roll, the satellite kept snapping at her, the tip of its snout doused in mud.
After the misses became narrower and narrower, she finally remembered she had Coram’s sword and quickly unsheathed it. But it was so heavy in her hands and her body was so weak that she could hardly hold it or herself upright. Her arms kept sagging, her legs unsteady, and the satellite saw this. Knowing it had her, it slowed its movements, picking exactly how and when it would finish her off.
Rose swung the sword pitifully, all her strength seemingly having left her body. She thought about using her voice again, but hesitated. Right now, she wasn’t even sure she would be able to find the breath to produce a squeak.
The satellite neared and Rose was able to cut a gash in its leg, but this only seemed to agitate the creature even more. It swiped at her with its tail a second time, sweeping her legs and knocking her on her back, the sword flying and sinking within the mud. In a flash, the satellite was atop her, claws digging deep into Rose’s shoulders. It dragged its razor-like nails all the way down her chest, and Rose was disturbed to see how dark the blood was. The disease had turned it black—what was it doing to her? She wanted to scream, in both pain and horror, but she feared what might burst forth. Instead, she kept her mouth closed and reached for the sword. Her hand dug through the mud, desperately trying to find it. Above her, the satellite licked its lips.
Rose kept searching, her fingers rising in and out of the mud. The satellite dropped forward, its face now inches from hers. Its warm breath wafted across her skin, drool falling on her cheeks like dense rain. The creature’s weight sank her deeper and deeper into the ground. It was then that she realized it was going to drown her first. It would feed on her body only when she was dead.
Rose felt herself lowering into the soft ground. Inch by inch, the mud rose up, slowly covering her face. Within seconds, her mouth was buried, her eyes. Then her nose. Still, she reached out blindly for the sword, her hand thrashing into the muck. Everything had gone dark, and the weight atop her was unbearable. Her nostrils filled with mud, her mouth stuffed with it. She couldn’t breathe. And through it all, she heard the Abomination’s laughter echo within her head.
That was until the tip of her middle finger traced something in the muck. The sword? Her mind searched in the dark of the earth, and it saw the dulled hilt and the battered blade. It was just out of reach. Stretching out—it felt as if her shoulder were about to pop free of its socket—her hand grabbed hold of the sword. Gripping it tight, she found some hidden reserve of strength—like some untapped well in her heart—and, unable to see her target except for in her mind where it was crystal clear, raised the blade and thrusted, gutting the monster open. She knew she had killed it, but there was only one problem. A second later, the satellite’s lifeless body fell right on top of her.
Crushed, Rose kicked and flailed in panic, but it was impossible to move it—the weight was just too much. There was no way to get to the surface, to air, and the light in her mind was beginning to fade. Desperate, she screamed—her voice would save her—but her throat was clogged with mud. This is how it ends, she thought. Not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with silence. And then she apologized. First to her brother and then to all Eppersett.
The darkness came, filling what was left of her short life. It spread over everything, over her past, over her memories, over her mind. And out of that terrible darkness came something even darker and far more terrible. The Abomination. It filled the space of her fading life and swallowed her whole. She could feel it. She was deep within its belly. Again, she tried to scream. She screamed with everything she had. She screamed for life.
And then there was light.
There was air. Wind. Water. There were her friends.
They pulled her up out of the mud, the air ferociously rushing back into her lungs like life itself. She gasped, her eyes thrown wide open, her chest heaving. She felt Coram trembling as he embraced her. She felt Eo’s snout nuzzling against her side. And she felt the gentle kiss Meadowrue placed atop her head. They had chased the darkness.
“They’re gone,” Coram said. “There’s not one left. These weapons … they’re incredible. We can finish the Abomination, Rose. We just need you to lead us.” He wiped the mud from her face and eyes. What he saw made his face slacken in fear.
Rose tried to speak but found she couldn’t, not even after she vomited up piles of mud. She grasped at her throat, rubbing it. Something wasn’t right. It felt as if her tongue had fallen out. Her friends watched her closely, great unease in their eyes. Fearfully, Rose felt her face. Without even being able to see, she knew the disease had spread past her chin and over her mouth. Her body flooded with panic.
“Don’t worry,” Coram said, though his voice betrayed his own words. “We’ll find a way. We’ll find a way.”
Rose could tell by his eyes he wasn’t exactly sure they would. But he had hope. And maybe that was enough.
When she finally got to her feet again, her eyes fell on the distance, where the satellites once were. But now instead of all that white, she saw nothing but black. Immediately, she recalled the darkness of her near death, how all-consuming it had been. What she saw on the horizon was exactly what had invaded her mind in those moments. As the darkness on the horizon neared, her neck kept stretching back and back and back, as her eyes tried to take it all in. It was too much. Far too much.
Panicking, she stumbled backward and fell, her mouth producing nothing but gasps and chokes. Her body vibrated with a fear she had never before experienced. Even her friends slowly backed away, their mouths agape. In seconds, they were all smothered in the blackest of shadows. The abyss of all abysses.
The Abomination had arrived.
It towered over them, a bubbling black mass that crushed Rose’s soul flat. The Abomination: a mammoth shadow in which the faint glow of hope had been all but snuffed out. It was so large, so imposing, that it was as if the night sky had fallen right atop the Order. Gazing up, Rose once again felt herself sinking lower and lower into the ground, her heart already down below her feet. The Abomination had to be over three hundred feet high and almost three times as long. It had legs like an insect, plunging deep into the earth and pulling its massive girth along while white pockets burst all across its back—they were like volcanic eruptions spewing forth premature satellites to de
fend its master after the army had failed. Although it could have been a monstrous and mutated beetle or bug, it had no eyes, no face. Just that pendulous snout that would eventually engulf Rose.
It plowed forward across Eppersett, accompanied by gale-force winds and torrential rain. The ground behind it was dead, sucked dry of all life. Nothing existed beyond it, and if Rose couldn’t defeat the Abomination, it would only be a matter of time before nothing existed before it either.
Like the tiniest of ants, the Order stood before their tragic destiny. Ever since she had arrived in this world, Rose knew the Abomination was a threat, but she had never imagined this. How does one take down something so large? There was no way they could do it. Not with all their weapons, not with Rose at full strength. It was futile. A dream.
And yet her friends didn’t seem to share any of these reservations.
“This is it!” Coram shouted over the storm, his breaths heaving from his lungs in huge bursts. “This is what everything has built toward!”
“Our last moments,” Meadowrue said, flexing her bow. “Let’s make them count!”
Eo glanced up at the dark sky and shouted, “Pa, I’m coming!” And with that cry, a bolt of lightning struck the ground, an electric charge running through them all.
The Abomination carried the storm on its back, thunder roaring overhead in clouds of nuclear winter. With each plunge of its legs, the ground quaked, vibrations stretching for miles. The wind and rain ripped up the land, making it that much easier for the Abomination to consume what lay beneath. Buried in the ground, the snout sucked and fed, and the Abomination grew.
And yet, without a moment’s hesitation, Coram called on the Order to attack. Watching as they raced forward, Rose admired their bravery, but feared it was all for naught. She had never felt so vulnerable—so defeated—as she did standing in the shadow of the Abomination. Already, she was its victim.
Rose Coffin Page 18
