by Blake Rivers
She didn’t want to see anymore and turned away, back to her path. Only a short way to go, the climb to the head, and then… She hoped it would be enough.
With a further earth-shattering roar, they sailed up into the air, preparing to return. Ami ran as the beast’s head lowered, jumping and skipping, sliding smooth scale just as it rose up once more.
The rip in front pulsed, the layers waiting beyond all doomed, all condemned.
It was then that Ami knew what she meant to do, and with only two wings and a prayer, she raised her sword and jumped. The Dragø’s skull was armoured in smaller scales, and as she touched down on them it flipped its head and loosed its fire. Ami spun in the air and landed upon the snout, two terrible red eyes, double her height, blazing with stolen power.
She turned from them and hunkered down, facing the fast approaching rip. Even as it shook its head and snapped its fierce jaws trying to shake her free, she held tight, letting her body slip into light; and then, a moment before they’d enter the seismic rip, Ami skipped forward and slashed the air in front of them, cutting into the layer.
With a boom, she was blown from the beast’s nose and thrown backward, her hand finding grip on the spines of its neck, her sword finding purchase in the back of the dragon’s skull—
—and suddenly there was no longer sound, only a constant whine that filled the world with a bad chord. Her eyes closed and refused to open, and for just a moment it seemed it might all be done.
*
She saw a world destroyed by fire, the change so sudden. Those who were flighty took caution in the air, while those who were curious stayed.
She saw the one who couldn’t move, captured in the fast slowing waters of a river. Its captor had bound it there to study it through a looking glass, holding it there to poke and to prod, to sketch notes into his leather bound books. He was a man unknown, but Ami understood who he was. He was from the other layer, the one soon to be merged with Darkscape. A scholar, a magician, a professor? Did it matter? The dragon was caught in the river, and then the rapture came.
The man had gone and had not returned, but the binding spell still held the creature, and when the river turned to steam and the land became scorched and burned, when reality shifted at speed and without grace, it was still there, protected. It watched as others perished, their skin flayed. It was alone in a world of death.
The earth beneath collapsed and the beast slipped into it, emerging from another river in another place, its hunger renewed…
Chapter Nineteen
The palace shredded in an eruption of lava that spewed its fount against the canvas of the night, painting the moon in blood before falling to chase Hero to the river; but the river was now a cut of amber ash and smoke that turned the world black with smog, leaving Hero blind as he fell.
Wind rushed in his ears, the journey seeming to last a lifetime, though he knew at any moment he would hit the ground or be lashed by fire, lanced by rock—it would all end soon—yet down and down he still fell, flailing and choked by death’s inevitable grip.
The underbellies of lava-kissed clouds swirled and filled the heavens, eventually fading to blue, a new sky emerging behind a knit of branches.
He’d not landed, yet beneath him lay a cushion of soft reeds, perfumed by petal and flower, dry bark and grass, and to each side a cluster of trees that bowed low to make an arch above him. To his left was a pond where small beasties danced, skimmed and skidded across the lily-covered surface. Perhaps I am dead after all, he thought, though he felt alive enough, his aches and pains screaming in agreement as he grasped at the nearest old oak and pulled himself up, leaves skittering to the ground between long stalks and blades.
The view beyond was that of fields and meadows, reminding him of the Planrus Lands back home, the green and yellow grass quivering under a wind that swept across the prairie in waves. There were more clusters of trees scattered all the way to the horizon, yet no wood or forest to join them that Hero could see, though the land cantered and sloped in places, and could have hidden many a treasure within. Wild flowers sprouted the ground around the pond, fed by the still water. A beautiful land, though empty and unfamiliar. There was nothing of Darkscape here and nothing of Legacy. Nothing of Ami. I’ve been swallowed by the layers. Looking back up to the sky he saw the long orange gash he’d fallen through, a cut across the sun that stretched for miles in either direction. It looked sore and infected, its edges dark and red.
He stepped out from beneath the shade, shaking his sore limbs and massaging his taut neck, letting the wind touch him and soothe him, cooling his burnt skin. “It’s the end of the world, Ami,” he whispered, “the end of everything.”
Not everything, a voice whispered somewhere within.
Ami?
That’s when he heard the hooves, the gentle thud-thud thud-thud muted and close, heavy in the grass. He turned to listen, honing in on the direction and seeing a momentary flick of movement somewhere in the dip of land unseen. And again, the rise and fall of a rider upon a steed.
Hero grabbed for his sword and held it out, half turning to watch the skyward tear falter and flux, the centre beneath the sun dipping slightly as if torn flesh. His shoulder throbbed and the sword in his hand felt unnaturally heavy, yet he presented it ready and stood his ground.
The hooves slowed and the rider came into view, a girl with long blonde locks tossed and flying back from her face as she met the stronger wind. Wearing a simple dress of marred white, she carried no load and rode the white stallion without saddle, her bare feet swinging freely without stirrup.
She pulled up to his side, her fair pale face staring down at him.
“Lower your sword,” she said.
Seeing no danger, Hero let his blade dip to the ground.
“Is that your doing?” she asked, pointing to the tear beyond the trees.
Hero shook his head. “No, my lady, it is not.”
Her brow furrowed. “Who are you?”
“I am Hero of the Guard—”
“Of Legacy,” she finished.
“Yes, but how did you know? Have we met?”
Somewhere far off, thunder rumbled. Clouds were gathering where there had been none only moments ago. Something was happening.
“I am sure we have not,” the girl said, steadying her horse, “and yet you look familiar.”
He thought that she looked familiar, too, though he was also sure he’d never set eyes on her before. She looked young, perhaps in her early twenties, yet her clear blue eyes bespoke wisdom and knowledge. He stared into them until she looked away, back to the tear.
“I am Infinity, of the Forlorn Forest. What is the meaning of this disturbance?”
Hero could only shrug and sigh. “Infinity, you say?”
“That is my given name.” The thunder rolled closer, the white wisps of clouds now darkening and sailing for the tear. “Is it a passage to another world?” Her eyes fell on him again. “It is, isn’t it? That is where you are from.”
“Do you know this, or are you guessing? Do you know Romany?”
Her eyes widened. “No, I—I don’t…”
Time was running short. The tear was changing and looking more a scarred mouth, its lower lip bulging and pouting, rolling back into grin. Isn’t it funny? Isn’t it? Laugh then, it taunted.
It’s her, the same voice whispered.
Ami?
Hero, heard above the brewing storm, felt beyond the wind.
Fields were falling to dusk swiftly as clouds teamed together to blot out the sun, leaving only the light of the mouth, a grotesque gargoyle laughing. The horse whickered, the girl holding lightly to its mane.
“Hero, I can hear voices in the dark,” she said. “I must get back to my people.”
“No, wait,” he said. “Are you…are you Ami?”
“I am Infinity,” she said, sounding scared. Soon she would ride, but Hero needed answers.
He took hold of her hand. “Do you know of Ami, the
Assassin Princess?” Thunder burst from clouds above them, scaring them both; she gripped his hand tight, and in that moment he felt the essence of something familiar, someone familiar, the feel of power passing between them. The horse, the girl, the layers. Not Ami. “Florence?”
The grin fell as the lip was cut, and drips of burning fire hit the ground and began a blaze. The layer was coming apart, and this world would soon be destroyed. He pulled her close to him.
“Florence? Florina? Is that you?”
She gasped, eyes wide and flashing. She gripped to him tightly. “That name. That name?”
It’s her, the voice said, infinity—the power never dies. The voice was close now, and Hero thought he knew where. The drips of the leaking layer had already made a pyre taller than the trees, yet beyond it he could see a figure, barely there in silhouette, her arms raised and beckoning.
Hero, come.
Ami.
“Come, now,” Hero said, holding onto the girl as she leaned too far from her horse. Her hands found his face and stroked soft against his growing beard.
“No, no, I cannot. I must go to my people. They need me. Hero…I do not know how I know you, or how I know the name you give me.” She pulled him toward her now, surprisingly strong. “But I know what you need; the voice is telling me. She is telling me.”
Hero looked back to the pyre, the rip sliding down like a zip, a terrifying bridge of light emerging from the centre. Could he see buildings within? There were people, he was sure, some screaming, and between the chaos and the fire the shape of the Shadow Princess danced, a sweet melody he’d heard before trembling in the stormy air.
“Come with me,” he urged, but the girl stayed stolid, her thighs tightly wrapped against her horse. “This world is about to die.”
“You can stop it.” She reached forward and placed her hand over his sword, the steel shining bright beneath her touch. The world lit a halo around them in a glorious white—but all too soon the girl grew tired and slumped, the power drained from her, captured in the sword. “Now you can stop it,” she breathed. “Quickly, Hero.”
Hero, come.
The thunder came again, rumbling and tumbling in the sky. The tear in the layer flashed and dropped, another world opening only a step away. The horse moved backward, its rider now fully seated.
“Go, Hero,” she cried, before turning tail and galloping away into the darkness, down into the slope of the land hidden from view. He could not hear her hooves this time, the thunder too loud and monstrous.
“Good luck,” he whispered, and turned to the fire beyond the trees. With only a quickened beat of his heart, Hero ran.
Out in the open he felt exposed, caught in the spotlight centre stage, seeing through the blur of other layers, other lands, mountains and ships, towers and turrets. They’re all there, each and every life ever lived. And they were all going to die.
“Ami, please help,” he panted, his approach to the fire swift.
Hero, come.
A flamed hand passed through the fire wall, a sword lit a purple green, and as the sky ripped across and consumed the entire world, he jumped forward, falling into the flames and landing in a cold, black earthen tunnel. Dust and earth sifted and fell between shafts of burning light, the entire tunnel under threat of collapse.
Hero ran, forward into the darkness his lungs burning, his feet hurting, while howls and shrieks of creatures unknown chased his steps, below, above and beside him, through thin crusts of reality that were quickly breaking away. The tunnel turned and opened to a chamber that echoed with rumbled thunder, and to his right a slope dragged upward, wet and sludgy; the air came fresher from there.
He followed it as rocks fell and the earth above collapsed into the hollow, his last leap throwing him clear out and into the night. But the night was dark and just as deadly.
Hero rolled and groped through wet mud and stone to right himself, crawling the bank to the crest of the rise. There, he looked down upon the tense scene, air pensive as just before a storm…
An ear-splitting boom burst with a hollow thrum, and Hero watched through wide eyes as the wild greens and forests of Darkscape fell suddenly into the earth, smoke and flames rising along with the mighty roar of a beast.
Ami.
He thought of nothing and no one else in that moment as a dark creature blotted the burning sky, dark wings spreading dominance and shadow over everything. An ignited breath of noxious flame fanned out upon the town.
Oh, Ami.
Below the burning inferno, a mass exodus was taking place as hundreds of townsfolk made their way out of the woods and up the rise toward him; all muddy torsos and bloodied limbs, they drew close, chattering and sobbing, wailing and walking, evacuees headed for the sea.
The water was a welcome thought. Waves from another world where no fire could take hold… They came in their masses, approaching and dividing, swarming either side of him and paying him no mind. Why should they? He was not their leader, just a stranger in the dirt.
The beast’s wrath shook the earth as he spun and rose to follow the crowds, the townsfolk screaming as one, eyes frightened and flighty, scarves, blankets, furs and jerkins drawn closely over the elderly and the young. Those that cried did so in heavy sobs as they made their way to the cliff, and to the temple tower at its end.
Hero set his sights on the beast, whose wings flapped and flagged and rose and fell. There was no trace of Romany—unless she were the devil driving the creature—yet Ami? A faint green glow of light answered his fears and hopes.
He must go to her.
Fighting through bodies, Hero dragged himself down the other side of the slope and into the wood, now singed and fallen. The ground had opened up in an eerie light that low-lit snapped and bowing branches, trunks and splintered stumps. A sure path was marked only by the diminishing lines of fleeing shadows, but it wasn’t hard to find his way to the town’s outer wall, fallen rubble and stone, wood and iron. The fire was low here, and Hero was able to climb the mound easily, crawling through to the street beyond.
It was unrecognisable. Houses that had pressed tight against one another had fallen, fire consuming everything. Roofs were now devil’s bonnets, stars hiding behind fanned and flickering tongues. The cobbles were stepping stones across the layer-light, and the dead were scattered all around; and reigning above all the plunder and squander, was the black dragon.
Hero broke into a run, his sword in his hand, Ami’s name on his lips.
*
Ami staggered to her feet as the dark dragon cast its fire upon the remains of the town, its huge form blundering, stomping on what remained of Romany’s palace.
In her absence Darkscape had been destroyed by the breaking of the layers, and Ami could only hope that its people had time to get to safety, though she knew that many of them wouldn’t have.
Hero…
The night was alight with fire, and everything burned, yet Ami had one last job to do before she could consider anything else.
At the base of the dragon’s neck, her sword still protruded, embedded in its skull and fluxing power. She would need to remount the beast and quickly, and so, with all the energy and power she could muster, the Princess of Legacy passed into light one final time.
All her senses heightened, like the cold nip of a winter’s frost, the burns and scars and wounds she’d yet to register disappearing completely; she readied herself, standing upon air and light, remembering the unicorn’s lessons, his words of magic and power. You can be all, be anything, be power, be pure. And pure she was, limbs and torso, a ghost of her own. Noises dimmed, and the world brightened, and Ami was the most powerful being alive.
Dangerous.
But someone was coming, someone near.
Ami spun to find the movement of a man between founts and flames.
Hero.
Blackened and bleeding, he held his sword aloft.
*
Hero had flown down the street, jumping cracks and gaps and d
ead bodies alike. In many places whole sections of the town had fallen and caved into the earth; all burned and the street was but a boulevard between fault lines of fire. Fire. So much of his life had involved fire, whether lightly touched to the wick of a lamp, or blazing across a riotous city, doused by barrels of brine on the backs of Guards. Fire called the Shadow Princess, while the power thrived like fire in almost every way. A life of flame. And now, having run the broken hill, climbed and mounted many a hurdle of brick and body, he stood in the midst of the largest and darkest creature he’d ever seen. And yes, there was fire! As tall and as wide as Legacy Castle, the black, winged monster strode through volcanic lakes and rivulets where there had been a palace, a river, trees and a town—and standing away from its mighty form, drenched in a white fireless-light, was his princess.
“Ami,” he breathed, running the edge of a large crevasse in the earth that divided them. He held his sword up as she turned toward him.
“Stay back, Hero,” she cried, and he followed her gaze, seeing Ami’s sword in the dragon, a jade pin within its skull.
“Let me help!” Hero panted. “You are my princess, and I am your Guard. I’ll not let you die here!”
“You’ll not help by being killed,” she said. “Go back to Legacy. Here.” After a moment of searching, she retrieved the golden rook from her person and threw it to him. He caught it. “Take it to the temple, to the first step. Take Florence and Raven.”
“They’re gone. Florence to a layer where…she may already be dead. Raven, too, though I don’t know…” He walked closer, slipping the totem into his garments. He pointed to the Dragø. “We’re all that stands in this creature’s way.” And we’re all each other has got, he didn’t add. The dragon had already begun making its way past the burning town, readying its wings to take flight toward the sea, toward the people. “The townsfolk. It’ll—”
