by D. C. Payson
“What is it?” Balyssa asked.
“Just do as I say!” Entaurion barked.
Once they were clear, he gripped the hammer with two hands and let it swing down between his legs. He looked up through the glass ceiling to the mountainside and sky overhead.
“Goddess, guide my hand or receive my body.”
Calling on every ounce of strength he could muster, he hurled the hammer upward toward the skylight. No sooner had it left his hand than he dove away, covering his face and neck, and bracing for the inevitable impact.
There was a deafening crash as the hammer tore through the glass. Entaurion lay still as the shards fell around him, some smaller pieces tearing at his exposed skin. Once the shrill rain of glass had come to an end, he uncovered himself and looked up. Above their heads was a small hole in the ceiling, four or five feet in diameter. He could see the open sky beyond.
Entaurion stood and wiped the blood oozing from his hand, then he brushed the clinging shards off his body. He grabbed hold of a thick vine on the nearby wall and began to climb.
Suddenly, a terrible roar came rumbling through the corridor.
“We’re out of time! The beast is nearly through the debris!” said Balyssa as she rushed to the center of the room. She looked over at Entaurion and pointed in Julia’s direction. “Quickly, go anchor yourself and Julia to the wall. Grab onto the vines and hold tight!” She glanced at the hole in the ceiling. “We may yet be saved.”
Entaurion knew that they no longer had time to climb to safety. He would have to trust Balyssa to deliver them from the beast, though he didn’t know how. He ran back to Julia, holding her tightly in one arm as he gripped the nearby ivy with his free hand.
Julia’s necklace glowed, helping keep her panic at bay. She grabbed hold of a vine herself, strengthening their anchor.
“Be strong,” Entaurion whispered.
Another roar came, followed by the sound of bricks crashing down onto the stone floor. The last of the blockage had given way.
Amid the harrowing sound of the wolf’s footsteps, Balyssa raised her arms at her side and began speaking in a language none of the others had ever heard. Her eyes crackled, arcs of electricity leaping across her face and arms as a strong wind gathered around her, drawn through the hole in the ceiling. Her chant crescendoed, the air in the room swirling faster and faster until it became a furious maelstrom that made the ivy convulse against the walls. Julia held on with all her might, barely maintaining her grip.
Just then, Entaurion caught sight of the red-eyed beast in the corridor. “It’s near!” he yelled.
Balyssa raised her arms over her head and began floating above the floor. The winds grew stronger, pushing the potted trees off their pedestals and sending them crashing to the ground. The wolf fought to hold its ground, using the force of its roar as a counterbalance. Pane after pane of the glass roof shattered as Balyssa maintained her assault, pushing the creature back farther and farther into the corridor. Julia screamed, her strength failing. Entaurion wrapped his leg around her and hooked his foot in the ivy.
Then Balyssa began to falter. Her arms dropped to shoulder height, and the winds slowly tapered. The wolf muscled forward again toward the light; it would soon be upon them, leaving the group nowhere to run.
Engar saw the fear on Entaurion’s face and knew that he had to act. Steadied by a long vine wrapped around his arm, he struggled to his feet and pushed forward toward the corridor, fighting against the wind. Then, as the wolf came into the light, Engar leapt forward, using the vine as a tether to swing into the corridor. The great wolf lunged toward him for the kill. Seeing his chance, Engar thrust his vine-entangled arm into the creature’s gaping mouth; it bit down viciously, its teeth rending his flesh, muscle, and bone. Engar felt no pain as he jerked the wolf’s head upward and buried Entaurion’s dagger deep into its chest. He could see the primal agony in the creature’s eyes as it bit through the last of his arm.
“Ouch,” Engar deadpanned as he pushed the blade in further.
The beast stepped back and dropped Engar’s arm from its mouth, gasping for air. Then it gave way to the winds, falling backward and disappearing into the darkness of the corridor.
Balyssa dropped her hands and fell into a crumpled heap. No longer supported by the winds, Engar was pulled backward by the vine and fell, writhing, to the floor.
Entaurion squeezed Julia. “I think we are safe now,” he whispered, struggling to contain his emotion. “I have to go check on Engar!”
He ran through the room and knelt down next to his friend, a growing pool of blood gathering around his sandals. Engar flailed about, trying to prop himself up against the wall, his face contorted with pain.
“What did you do?” gasped Entaurion as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. “Engar, what—”
“Like the old stories, my friend!” gurgled Engar. “My arm is gone … but the beast … is slain!”
Entaurion looked down at the shorn limb and the life leaking from the open wound. “You saved us, Engar.” He felt a tear run down his face, the first in a long time.
Engar forced a smile. “It was all for the … girl … of course.”
Entaurion chuckled between tears, placing a hand against his friend’s neck. Even as he lay dying, Engar’s spirit was still very much alive.
“The Council will hear about this,” Entaurion said. “They will give you the hero’s title. I will tell my children that I fought beside Jagar, and they will be proud.”
“Jagar … ” Engar muttered, offering an almost imperceptible nod. “I like it.”
But then, suddenly, a new hope: Entaurion caught sight of the remaining tangle of vine around Engar’s arm. He knew that there might be a chance.
“Engar, forgive me!” he said, quickly shifting his body to pin Engar’s arm against the wall. Engar groaned, but did not resist. Grabbing the vine with both hands—one above and one below—Entaurion pulled his hands apart and twisted. Engar offered only a muffled grunt as the tourniquet bit into his arm, staunching the flow of blood. Entaurion removed several arrows from his quiver and inserted them into the space between the vines. He twisted further to tighten the tourniquet, winding it tighter and tighter until the bleeding had stopped.
Engar let out a deep, guttural yell, no longer able to tolerate the pain.
Entaurion was grateful to see such a response; it meant that his friend might live. He removed his belt and used it to secure the tourniquet then knelt down beside Engar again.
“Engar, can you hear me?” he asked. “Are you aware?”
Engar beckoned for Entaurion to come close. “That … ” he muttered, “that … HURT!” He brought his free hand over and pushed Entaurion sideways.
Nearby, Julia let out a sobbing laugh, born more of relief than humor. She came forward, wanting very much to give Engar a hug but thinking the better of it once she saw his condition. “Oh, Engar … ”
“You’re safe, Princess,” he responded between winces. “The creature’s dead.”
Julia didn’t dare look at his arm, which was mostly concealed by the vine tourniquet. She could see the blood though. She was glad to see Engar sitting up and responsive despite the trauma.
“Engar, I don’t know what would have happened without you,” said Julia. “Outside, when I saw that thing running at us—”
“Yes, I saw it too,” said Engar. “In its eyes. The red fire in its eyes … ”
“A red fire? In its eyes?” Entaurion repeated. “Are you sure?”
Engar nodded. “It was not natural. That beast was here to kill us. I am certain of it. We can’t stay.”
“Let’s get Balyssa and go,” said Julia. Looking over her shoulder, she spotted Balyssa lying in a heap on the ground. “Balyssa?” she called.
There was no response.
Julia rushed to her side. “Balyssa?” she repeated.
Pulling back the cloth of her hood, Julia s
aw Balyssa breathing shallowly, the skin on her face and neck an almost transparent yellow-white. She had an iridescent glow like the one that she had displayed at the fort, but this time it lacked vitality, hanging like an ethereal fog around her. She seemed to be fading from this world.
“Balyssa!” Julia cried. “Are you okay? Balyssa!”
“Help me sit,” Balyssa whispered in a weak monotone.
Julia reached down and grabbed a hold of Balyssa’s arm, slipping her hand around her back to prop her upright.
“Thank you,” Balyssa said. “It is too soon for me to return to my beloved Dancer.” She pulled her hood back up and over her head. “I can sense that Engar’s spirit has not left him. Is he alright?”
Julia looked back at the Guardians. Engar seemed to be in great pain, but he was talking.
“I think so,” Julia replied. “He was very badly hurt, but I think Entaurion has stabilized him for now. How about you?”
“I will need to meditate to recover. I have very little energy remaining, and it will be difficult for me to travel with you.” She paused to breathe a few times before continuing. “We must find the Champion’s gate. We must know if it’s here.”
Balyssa strained to rise to her feet. When it seemed as though she was going to lose her balance and fall, Julia reached out and grabbed her arms.
“Are you sure you can stand?” Julia asked.
Balyssa nodded. “Yes. I just need to adjust to my present weakness.”
Julia backed off as Balyssa rose to her full height and slowly walked over to where Engar and Entaurion were waiting.
Engar looked up at her. “Are you alright, Balyssa?”
“Yes. Weak, but alright. And you, Guardian?”
“I still breathe.”
“My most high and beautiful Dancer’s gift to man,” said Balyssa, smiling. “Can you also walk?”
“I think so,” Engar said, beckoning for Entaurion to help him up.
Entaurion came up beside him, wrapping an arm around his torso and helping him to his feet. “Are you sure you’re ready to walk?”
Engar motioned his head forward.
“Very well,” said Entaurion as he took a small step.
Engar grit his teeth and took a step of his own, and soon the Guardians were shuffling slowly but steadily down the corridor toward the entry hall. Julia and Balyssa followed behind. The light changed as they neared the end of the corridor, the entry hall gradually coming into view. They were almost to the stairs when Julia spotted an obstacle between them and the exit: a giant, black mass lying still on the ground. The carcass of the wolf.
“Oh, god,” she murmured.
Entaurion heard her, and tried to offer reassurance. “It cannot hurt you anymore. Just ignore it, and focus on the daylight. We will be out of here soon.”
Julia could feel a slight breeze coming through the corridor, evidencing Entaurion’s words.
Focus, Julia, she told herself. You’re almost out of here.
Julia closed her eyes, putting one foot in front of the other. For a moment, she thought she heard the sound of the wind growing stronger, and then something strange happened. She felt her necklace warming against her chest.
Her eyes sprang open.
Little had changed over the course of the few steps she had taken. Engar and Entaurion were a bit farther ahead now, but nothing about their body language suggested trouble. Behind, Balyssa was still following, her glow so dim that it barely reflected off the nearby walls.
Julia tried to close her eyes again. Another breezy sound whisked through the corridor, and this time she heard it: the faint translation of a new voice.
“Forgive me, Goddess.”
Julia stood still, trying to understand what was going on. Balyssa came up beside her and stopped.
“Is something wrong, Julia?” she asked.
“I don’t know, I think … I think I’m hearing things on the wind.”
It came again: “Forgive me, Goddess.”
Julia’s eyes grew wide. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes,” said Balyssa. “Those are the dying breaths of the fen wolf. Its spirit is nearly ready to leave its body. Do not worry, it is much too weak to be a threat to you.
Julia shuddered at the thought that the wolf still lived. But looking over at the black mass again, she felt an unexpected feeling come over her: compassion. She heard the creature’s words echoing through her mind, and she felt an intuition that this was not the same creature that had attacked her. She felt drawn to it. Despite her fear, she cautiously made her way to its side.
“Julia, what are you doing?” Balyssa asked.
Julia knelt down next to the wolf. She reached out and placed a hand against its shoulder.
The creature stirred slightly. “I feel … the Goddess … in you. I beg … forgiveness … for what I have done.”
Julia stroked its magnificent, white mane, the lower part of which was now wet and heavy with blood.
“I am … Shahelea. You must tell Nain. My will was … taken … I was … so angry … hungry … It was … a lifestone … Tell … Nain.”
The creature exhaled for the last time.
“I forgive you,” Julia said under her breath, letting her hand fall still on its side.
“It is gone,” said Balyssa.
“I heard her speaking, Balyssa,” said Julia, looking up. “She was pleading for forgiveness.”
“Did it tell you anything?”
Julia nodded. “Yes. That she was being controlled by something called a ‘lifestone.’”
Balyssa’s expression changed. “Lifestones? Are you sure that’s what you heard?”
Julia nodded again.
“Lifestones … ” Balyssa repeated, her voice trailing off.
“Julia?” Entaurion’s voice came reverberating up the corridor. “Are you coming?”
“We’ll be right there!” she called back. She looked at Balyssa, seeing the lingering concern on her face. “What’s the matter?”
Balyssa shook her head. “I would not have thought it possible, but lifestones in any form would imply Rokkin involvement.”
“What does that mean for us?”
“I do not know. But I assume that we will soon find out. We should keep going. Entaurion and Engar are waiting.”
“Okay,” Julia said. “I will follow you.”
Julia and Balyssa clambered over the rubble at the building’s entryway. Entaurion and Engar were waiting just outside.
“What was the delay?” Entaurion asked.
“The wolf wasn’t dead,” said Julia. “I spoke with her.”
Entaurion’s expression hardened. For the first time, Julia saw anger in his eyes. “What do you mean? After Engar was nearly killed trying to protect you from that creature, you risked your life to talk to it?”
“You should trust her, Entaurion,” said Balyssa. “What she senses can be very powerful.”
“Don’t worry, it was too weak to hurt me,” said Julia. “Before it died, it told me something that might explain why it attacked us.”
“What was that?” Entaurion asked skeptically.
“That someone was controlling it using lifestones. It said that we had to tell Nain.”
The mention of lifestones meant nothing to Entaurion. But Nain … Nain was a name he knew. He shook his head, confused but no longer angry. “I do not understand what you’ve described, but Nain is the leader of the Sylvan. If you need to speak with him, then Sinox might be able to arrange it.”
“Okay, then I will talk to Sinox,” said Julia, relieved to see Entaurion’s disposition soften. “Engar, how are you doing?”
Engar forced a smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
“He needs further treatment back at the fort,” said Entaurion, “but he’ll live. He’s as tough as the iron he forges. You and Balyssa should quickly take care of whatever business you still have left to attend to here.
I will see to Engar and wait for you.”
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Julia.
“No,” said Entaurion. “You go. We’ll be fine.”
“Try to hurry,” Engar added. “This place is not safe.”
“The Guardian is right,” said Balyssa. “We should work as quickly as we can.”
Julia nodded. “Okay. We’ll be back soon. Be strong, Engar. We need you.”
As Julia and Balyssa crossed the open threshold of the library, Julia’s eyes darted around the interior’s many shadowy spaces. The recent attack was still very much on her mind. Here, in this huge, cavernous space, she felt as though hidden monsters could lurk anywhere. She knelt down to touch one of the stones underfoot, waiting a few moments to hear its report.
Nothing.
“Are you alright?” Balyssa asked.
“Yes. I don’t sense anything moving inside the library.”
“You need not worry. It would be very difficult for something to hide from me in an enclosed, stone structure such as this; the air would bring me its sounds almost immediately. If we are going to be attacked again, our attacker will come up the valley as before.”
Julia placed her hand against her necklace and took a deep breath to regain her composure. “Okay. Let’s keep going.”
At the top of the stairs, Julia glanced over toward the room where she had woken up her first morning in Aevilen.
“We’re lucky that the Revolutionaries didn’t find that room,” said Balyssa from behind.
Julia stood in silence, thinking about her arrival. Not much time had passed, but so much had happened that that morning seemed more distant in her memory.
“Come,” said Balyssa. “We’re close now.”
Julia followed Balyssa through the maze of standing and toppled bookcases, stepping over the dust-covered books that lay scattered across the floor. Along the way, they passed the last of the great columns, this one rising through the center of the floor. It was ringed by ornate, metal cabinets, each with a glass window offering a view inside. The cabinets were empty.
