"Don't move, El!" she warned, her breath against his ear. "If you move, he will crush her. See how frail she is! See how sharp his claws are around her little ribs."
Elethor froze, head spinning and breath panting. Lyana moaned, her eyelids fluttered, and she looked up at him. Her one eye was swollen and bruised. Her lips bled. When she saw him, she gave a soft gasp and whispered his name. This was not the Lyana of ten years ago, the imperious girl with the upturned nose and bouncing red curls. This was the Lyana he had married, her hair shorter, her eyes deeper and wiser.
"Lyana," he whispered.
He looked into her eyes and saw fear, anger, and pain, but above all love for him and Requiem, a brittle strength like an old sword drawn for one last battle.
"Look at her," Solina whispered. She stood behind Elethor, her hand on his shoulder, her lips against his ear. "Look at her there, bloodied and nearly crushed in the claws of my servant. Look at her, the great knight, the proud queen, the loving wife—look at her. Broken. Weak. Almost dead."
Elethor would not remove his eyes from Lyana, but he spoke to Solina.
"She is stronger than you will ever know, Solina," he said. "She is stronger than you will ever be."
Solina took a step forward, touched his cheek, and whispered.
"We will see, Elethor. We will see." She turned toward the nephil and his prey. "Legion! Kill the girl. Kill her like you did the last one."
Legion grinned and raised Lyana toward the ceiling, and his jaws opened, and Lyana cried out.
"Wait!" Elethor shouted.
Legion froze, holding Lyana a mere foot above his jaws.
"Wait!" Elethor repeated. "Solina, wait."
The Queen of Tiranor smiled softly. She nodded at Legion, and the nephil lowered Lyana to his breast and held her close, a spider clutching a fly.
Elethor lowered his head, pain pulsing through his chest like demons inside him, scratching at his heart and ribs. Again he saw all the dead: his father, his brother, Treale, and countless others, all dead for this war between him and Solina. He could bear no more—not Lyana. Not her. He clenched his fists at his sides, turned toward Solina, and stared at her.
"Let Lyana go," he said, "and I will stay with you here." He exhaled slowly and lowered his eyes. "You win, Solina."
"El," Lyana whispered. "El, I—"
The claws tightened around her, constricting her breath and voice. Blood trickled from her lips.
Elethor stepped toward his wife, heart wrenching. He wanted to touch her, comfort her, hold her and whisper to her, but Legion's foot thrust out and kicked him back, and Elethor fell several paces. Solina caught him, wrapped her arms around him, and stared into his eyes.
"You made the right choice, Elethor," she said. "You grieve for her now; I know. You will forget her in time. You will forget her and you will love me again." She turned to her demon. "Legion! Take the girl back to the bridge. Let her go! She is free."
The nephil bowed his dripping, spiked head, and his tongue lapped up drool from the floor. Clutching Lyana to his belly, the creature retreated back out the door, leaving a trail of slime.
Elethor gave a wordless cry, wrenched himself free from Solina, and ran after them. He passed through the doorway, and stench hit his face, and shrieks filled his ears, and he found himself standing outside the pool again. Around him rose the columns of the Hall of Memory. Below in the pit, the million nephil spawn rotted and shrieked and fed upon one another. Legion was already retreating along the stone bridge, moving from the Memory Pool toward the archway that exited the chamber.
"Elethor!" Solina cried behind him.
He ignored her and raced along the bridge.
"Wait!" he shouted. "Solina, let me speak to her! Let me say goodbye. Then you may have me."
"Put her down, Legion!" Solina shouted. "Let him speak to his whore!" She laughed. "Let them cry together one last time; it will amuse me."
The vermin in the pit screamed and leaped and clawed at the rims of the bridge. Their father, the towering Lord Legion, cackled and tossed Lyana down. She thudded against the bridge, and the vermin all around clattered and screeched and clawed, grabbing at the bridge and trying to reach her, then falling back into the pit.
Elethor ran. He reached Lyana, knelt above her, and held her, and for a moment he could not speak from pain. She was hurt. They had removed her armor and torn her clothes, leaving her ragged and bloodied. Dirt and ash matted her hair and caked her face.
"Lyana," he whispered. "I'm here. I'm here."
She struggled to her feet and stood on trembling legs. Elethor held her waist, and she placed her hands on his shoulders. They stood in the center of the bridge. Solina stood behind at the pool; Legion retreated to stand at the archway. All around in the pit, the wretchedness and darkness of the world screamed and bled and fed, their cries echoing in the chamber.
"Elethor," Lyana whispered and tears filled her eyes. "Elethor, no."
He touched her hair. "It's the only way, Lyana. Leave this place. Fly to the others. Find Mori and Bayrin and whoever still lives and flee this desert. Promise me, Lyana."
She stared at him, and her eyes hardened, but then she trembled and pulled him into a crushing embrace. They held each other as the creatures screamed all around.
"I love you, Elethor," she whispered, her head against his shoulder. "I love you always, my husband, my king. They will sing your name in the halls of Requiem. Always."
He touched her cheek and looked into her eyes—those eyes that would once taunt him, madden him, infuriate him… and which now spoke of Requiem's halls, of warm embraces on cold nights, of her steel and fire and love that had taken him through this war, that would remain inside him even in the very pit of darkness.
"I love you too, Lyana," he said. "More than the fallen halls of our fathers, and more than memories of spring. You must lead Requiem now. Our people will follow your fire, and it will lead them home. Two winters ago, I told you this in the Abyss: Whatever strength I have is yours. I will keep you safe, then and now, even in the heart of darkness. Leave this underground. Find our sky. Lead our people to light." He took her hand and placed it against his chest. "I cannot fly with you now. But I will think of you upon the wind, and I will smile, and I will wait… I will wait until we fly together in starlight."
She tightened her arms around him, and they kissed—a deep kiss that tasted of blood, tears, and memories of home, a kiss of fire such as they had never shared, a last flame of stars.
Claws grabbed Lyana's shoulders.
Legion pulled her back, wrenching her from Elethor's arms, tearing their kiss apart.
"Elethor!" she cried, eyes wide.
Legion began dragging her back along the bridge. She reached out to him. Their fingertips touched, shooting warmth through him. Then the beast pulled her into shadow, and she cried his name and disappeared under the archway into darkness.
Elethor stood alone upon the bridge, cold and empty, and stared at the archway.
Goodbye, Lyana. May your wings find our sky.
He turned back to face the Memory Pool. Solina stood there upon the bridge, her eyes soft. She stepped toward him and held his hands.
"You did the right thing, El," she said softly. "I know how much I hurt you. I see the pain in your eyes. But I only hurt you for us, Elethor. For our life. For our memories. Lyana was never yours, El; you know that. She tempted you. She stole you from me, and she hurt you too, and you weep for her now. But you've chosen me. I always knew that you would." She kissed his lips. "You've returned to me at last—to your Solina." She wept and held him. "It's over, Elethor. It's finally over, and we are together again. Come, Elethor. Come with me into the pool. It's time to go home."
Her kiss stung against his lips. Her hands touched his cheeks. Her eyes were huge, drowning in her pain and madness. He touched her hair, and she smiled at him tremulously.
"Goodbye, Solina," he whispered. "I loved you once. I loved you for years. You held me for so
long. But that boy in the pool, a boy caught in your light… he is only a memory too." He kissed her cheek. "Goodbye, Solina—fire of my youth, flame and curse of my life."
Standing before her, he shifted into a dragon.
Solina gasped and fell back.
Elethor beat his wings. The vermin below screeched. He soared in the chamber and blew his fire, and roared, and his cries echoed. As Solina lay upon her back and the spawn howled, Elethor shot forward and slammed into a column.
"Elethor!" Solina screamed. She rose to her feet. The firelight painted her face red. "Elethor!"
He slammed into the column, again and again, howling his rage and blowing his fire.
"Legion!" Solina screamed. "Legion, kill the weredragon!"
The nephil screeched outside. Claws clattered. Elethor blew a stream of flame at the archway, and Legion screeched. He kept slamming against the column. Cracks raced along it.
Fly from this place, Lyana. Fly far. Lead our people home.
He slammed into the column once more, and it cracked.
Elethor pulled back, wings beating, and watched the column fall.
It crashed into the pit, crushing spawn beneath it. Legion leaped into the chamber, and Elethor blew his fire again, and the nephil screeched and blazed. Solina screamed upon the bridge. Cracks raced along the ceiling, and chunks of rock fell.
Elethor flew and slammed into another column.
Rocks rained from the ceiling. The second column collapsed, and the spawn below wailed, and Elethor slammed into a third column until it too cracked. The pillar crashed down onto the bridge, crushing it. Solina screamed and leaped back. The bridge crumbled, and the ceiling rained stones, and Solina fell back into the pool. She vanished underwater as all around, columns fell, boulders rained, and vermin screamed and died.
Bricks buffeted Elethor. A chunk of the ceiling crashed down against Legion, and the blazing nephil tumbled into the pit. At once his spawn covered him and began to feast, ripping at their father's flesh, tearing gobbets loose from bones. The prophet howled, voice rising into a storm, so loud and shrill the sound cracked another column. Then the vermin grabbed Legion's jaw, ripped it free, and burrowed into his head. Soon they were feasting upon his eyes and maggoty brain. Legion's flaming halo gave a last crackle and guttered away.
Fly, Lyana, Elethor thought. Fly far and never return.
Rocks slammed against him. A column crashed and hit his tail. The walls crumbled, falling and burying the vermin beneath them. A blast shook the chamber and fire blazed outside. Another blast shook the palace, and Elethor realized: The hoards of Tiran fire were bursting.
A final crack raced along the ceiling, and the chamber collapsed.
Rocks slammed into Elethor and he fell. Bricks pummeled him. Dust blinded him. Only the Memory Pool remained standing now; the palace crumbled around it. Blinded and roaring with pain, Elethor crashed into the pool.
He slammed against the floor of his old home in Requiem.
Silence rang in his ears.
The fire, the screeches, the crumbling of columns—all was gone.
Here, he heard nothing but a breeze in the birches outside, the song of birds, and the flap of distant dragon wings.
A moan sounded behind him.
Elethor pushed himself onto his elbows and turned to see Solina on the floor. A great chunk of column pinned her down. Her blood seeped from beneath it.
"El," she whispered. Blood stained her lips. "El… will you hold my hand? For the end?"
She reached out a trembling, bloodied hand.
A boulder crashed through the ceiling and landed beside Elethor. It cracked the floor, shattered his bed, and knocked him down.
He lay beside Solina, and bricks rained onto him, falling through the ceiling of his home. Fire blazed above.
"El," she whispered. "Hold my hand. Please."
She reached out, grasped his hand, and held it tight.
"I love you, Elethor," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how much I hurt you. All I wanted was to be with you here. I'm sorry."
Rocks rained. His home trembled. A column tore through a wall, and his shelf of books and statuettes crashed down. His marble statues fell and cracked. The wooden turtle shattered.
He tore his hand free from Solina's.
He crawled toward the fallen wall. A brick slammed onto his back. He dragged himself over the debris and outside onto the hill.
He crawled a few more feet until he lay in spring grass. Birches rustled at his sides, and the city of Nova Vita rolled below him, towers and roofs emerging from a verdant forest. White clouds glided above, and the dragons flew, shimmering bright under the blue sky.
It is a beautiful place, Elethor thought and smiled softly. It is home. It is the best memory of my life. It is a good place to die.
Chunks of column, wall, and ceiling fell from the sky and crashed into the forest. Elethor lay back in the sunlight, took slow breaths, and let his hands play with the grass. Above him in the spring morning, the sky fell.
LYANA
She hovered outside above the desert, watching the Palace of Whispers crumble.
Blasts of Tiran fire sounded across it. Lights flared. The towers upon the mountaintop crumbled first, raining dust and bricks upon the walls below, and then those walls too fell, and soon all the bridges, archways, and pathways of this ancient edifice collapsed. Dust rose in a cloud and rolled across the desert. Some nephilim tried to escape. They burst from the ruins, only to have boulders, fire, and crumbling towers crash against them and bury them upon the mountainsides. Griffins fled shrieking.
Nothing will escape, Lyana thought. All that lives there dies.
She watched, eyes damp, wings flapping as she hovered before the ruin.
"Elethor," she whispered.
Love of my heart. Light of my life. My husband. My king. Goodbye, Elethor. You fly now to your brother and parents. You will dine at their side among the glittering columns.
She let out a sob.
"And watch over me, El. Watch over me from the stars, for I'm afraid and alone."
Wings thudded behind her. Snorts rang through the air. Lyana turned to see Bayrin and Mori flying over the mountains from the east. They were ragged, scales stained with ash and blood, and they panted as they flew. When they reached Lyana, they hovered at her sides. They gaped at the crumbling palace, tongues lolling.
"Bloody stars!" Bayrin said and spat flame. "We heard you were captured and chased you for three days, Lyana. What the Abyss is that?" He gave her a sidelong glance. "Did you blow up that mountain?"
Lyana lowered her head. Below her, dust and debris rolled across the desert.
"It was the Palace of Whispers," she said softly. "The lair of Solina and all her devilry. Elethor destroyed it."
Mori gasped. "Elethor!" the princess said. "Lyana, is… And Treale…"
Bayrin snorted smoke. "Stars, Lyana, where are they?" He looked around from side to side, as if seeking them. He sucked in his breath and looked back at the clouds of dust. "Lyana, are…"
Lyana looked at her brother. He appeared blurred to her, and she blinked, and her throat burned.
"We have to leave, Bayrin," she whispered. "We have to fly north. Back to Requiem. Please, Bayrin. Take me home."
She could speak no more. Her eyes stung too much. She turned and flew over the desert, fleeing this place, fleeing the pain inside her. Bayrin and Mori flew at her side, wailing and roaring flame, and their tears fell upon the desert. They understood, and they sounded their cry, a great song of mourning and pain for their fallen, for their king, for their guiding star. Lyana roared with them, a keen of starlight.
For Treale. For Elethor.
They flew for a long time.
They flew over dunes. They flew over the ruins of southern cities, their palm trees charred, their rivers littered with burnt ships, their towers fallen. They flew north over the sea, ragged survivors behind them, a thousand Vir Requis haunted and wounded and crying for th
eir fallen. They flew over the ruins of Requiem: her blackened forests, her hills littered with dead, and finally her fallen courts among the ash of King's Forest.
His words echoed in her mind. You must lead Requiem now. Our people will follow your fire, and it will lead them home.
Once Nova Vita had stood here, a city of new life, a revival for Requiem among the holy birches. Once towers had risen here, white and pure against the sky. Once harpists had played music here in white halls, and dragons had flown overhead, singing the songs of their people. This had been a city, a hope, a living dream, the heartbeat of a nation.
This is where my parents raised me, Lyana thought. This is where I loved Orin, and where I loved Elethor, where I was knighted and where I fought, where I watched columns fall and dead rain.
She landed in the ruins of the palace. A single pillar rose from the debris, three hundred feet tall, its capital shaped as dragons: King's Column, raised by the first King Aeternum millennia ago. Even the cruelty of Queen Solina could not topple it, and all the claws of her beasts could not scratch its marble. Lyana shifted into human form, held her sword before her, and knelt before this column. It led from ruin into starlight, from death into hope, from memory into dream.
"This is where I fought, this is where I killed, this is where so many died," Lyana whispered. "And this is where I will lead. I swear to you, stars of Requiem. I swear to you, Father and Mother. I swear to you, my Elethor. I will lead Requiem in your path, and I will rebuild her halls, and starlight will forever shine upon us."
She turned from the column and looked over the ruins.
Her people stood there, a thousand Vir Requis dressed in white, Requiem's color of mourning. Many here were wounded. Many were scarred, limbless, broken—but strong.
Yes, they are still strong, Lyana thought, looking from face to face. Their eyes were grim and haunted, but determined. We will rekindle our fire.
She climbed onto a fallen column and stood before the crowd. Bayrin and Mori stood before her, hand in hand. The others sprawled around them over the strewn bricks, toppled columns, and smashed statues. All looked upon her. They had flown south in winter, and snow had covered these lands. Today spring warmed Requiem, and among the ruins, Lyana saw birch saplings sprouting.
A Night of Dragon Wings (Dragonlore, Book 3) Page 29
