* * *
For the dragon, reaching with dwindling strength toward the region where he hoped Jael might be, the appearance of the iffling-child was a breathtaking surprise. He had felt some force drawing him that way, but it wasn't until he touched the tiny, frightened being that he recognized it for what it was.
The iffling was even more surprised than he was, but the need in its thoughts was so clear that there was no time to lose. FullSky opened his thoughts to it, crying out for news of Jael. The iffling shared its knowledge in a bewildering cascade, and then he knew with terrifying certainty what the task was for which he had been guarding his last strength.
He already felt unutterably weary. His kuutekka was stretched out through the underrealm, from his tortured body to the Dream Mountain, and then out to this strange plane where the iffling-child wandered. It seemed impossible for him to accomplish what had been given to him to do. But he already felt the realm groaning with battle in the Dark Vale, and he heard, as though across a vast sea, the cries of the outnumbered and terrified dragons; and he knew that he had no choice at all.
Help me, draconae, if you have any strength to lend! he cried silently back along the thread, not imagining that anyone might hear. And he cried aloud to the iffling: Take me to her! Show me the way to Jael!
Chapter 37: A Choice of Death
Facing Jarvorus the animal, Jael was almost afraid to look into his thoughts. Afraid that he might be telling the truth. His words were terrifying, so terrifying she could hardly think straight. And yet . . . she had been willing to die once before, for Highwing. Why not now—for Windrush, for the realm?
In truth, death no longer seemed as horrifying a prospect as it once might have. She felt no other hope. She was imprisoned, paralyzed, and unable to help herself or her friends. Could death be any worse?
She felt the creature's thoughts touching hers, and she shrank from it—but she could no more avoid the touch now than before. There was a difference this time, though. Jarvorus was allowing her to see beneath the rippling surface, to the hidden labyrinth of thoughts deeper within. Jarvorus was allowing her to see him as he really was.
It was an astounding revelation. She was peering into the heart of a warrior-spirit, an iffling-imitator who had embarked upon a mission of blind obedience. It owed its allegiance to the one who had created it, or claimed to have—who had transformed it from a sprite and instilled in it intelligence and a warrior's instinct, through the sorcery of Tar-skel. But the sorcery had been administered by the one called Rent. Jael was horrified to realize how completely Rent, a former rigger, had succumbed to the seductive power of the Nail.
Jael saw Jarvorus' flickering memories of his past life as a simple sprite, and his capture and transformation in Rent's forge of sorcery. She saw him awakening in the static realm, where he had been sent to subvert the ifflings' plan to bring the One back to the realm. She saw battle with the iffling-children, and shuddered as she saw them extinguished, all but one. She saw Jarvorus taking control in the dragon realm—and she felt a fresh wave of hopelessness, and anger, as she relived the springing of the trap.
And then . . . she saw Jarvorus changing, against his own will. He began both to understand and to empathize with his adversaries. She felt his confusion as he listened—first casually, then more closely—to her story, told in quiet desperation to Hodakai. Jarvorus found himself unexpectedly moved by her words and her memories—moved by her friendship with a dragon, a friendship that would lead her to risk her life for him. And Jael glimpsed, with astonishment, Jarvorus' impulsive lie to his master, and his decision to set her free.
She felt his tension, his urgency. Jarvorus feared that he would not have the courage to take Jael's life, even if she offered it; he feared that Rent would come to take her before he could set her free. Jael's heart tightened, as she glimpsed Rent's plan to take her and destroy her in the presence of the dragons.
With a shiver, she felt the link with Jarvorus dissolve. She stared once more through the wall of her icy cell into the eyes of the strange animal form that Jarvorus had taken on—an awkward imitation of the ifflings' animal form, a creature with large eyes and sleek grey fur, and powerful jaws. The form was more frightening than reassuring; this was the creature who had betrayed her, tricked her into a spell that could not be broken except by the Enemy, or by death.
She was stunned to realize that she believed him—believed that he was trying to offer her a way out that was better. But was it, really? It was clear that it had to be done quickly, if at all.
Through the fragmented net, she heard Ar muttering darkly—and nearby, she heard Ed rustling his wings and whispering incomprehensibly to himself. Outside the net, Hodakai was flickering, apparently trying to decide what he thought about it all. No one seemed certain, except Jarvorus. And . . . perhaps . . . her.
I believe you, she whispered to Jarvorus. But what you ask is hard.
Yes. But it is the only way.
But the way to do what? You spoke of the Dream Mountain—of meeting the dragons—but you do not say how. She imagined herself leaving her body, dead but not dead, and floating out over the mountains, lost forever. She remembered Mogurn's death, when she had forced him out the airlock into the Flux, and she shuddered.
The creature bowed its head. I cannot tell you, or show you. You are human, I am not. I do not know what is possible. You must be ready for the final death. But be certain—there is no life for you here. Not any longer.
She nodded, frowning. She wanted to turn again to Ar and Ed for help—but forced herself not to. If she thought too hard about her friends, she would never be able to say yes, even if it was the right thing to say.
Rigger Jael, whispered Jarvorus. Time grows short. Rent is coming. And I believe that the battle with the dragons may be commencing, even now. If you wish to choose your own time and place, and not the Nail's . . .
Jael did not listen to the rest of his words. She closed her eyes, remembering something Kan-Kon had said to her: "You're a rigger! You can change things!" She realized that she was weeping—for Kan-Kon, for her friends, for herself. She forced herself to stop trembling. Can you guarantee, she whispered, that it will be a blow against the enemies of Windrush—even if I die the final death?
Jarvorus bobbed his head. He seemed to grin joylessly. I guarantee that it will make them very, very angry.
Jael stared at him and laughed out loud, through her tears. All right, she murmured, her voice trembling. Then tell me what you want me to do. How are you going to get me out of this ice?
No—!
Ar's shout echoed and faded into the labyrinth of the twisted remnants of the net. If Jael heard him, she didn't answer. He wasn't sure it would have mattered. When she made up her mind to do something, he didn't know any way of stopping her. But he couldn't just let her agree to die.
Jael! His voice sharpened to a tight, metallic shriek. Don't let him do it! Please!
I have to, she whispered. There's no other way.
Her voice filled him with dread. You don't know that! he pleaded, but already she had turned her attention elsewhere. Jael!
Several heartbeats passed, and he heard another voice floating to him, trying urgently to get his attention. It was Hodakai. You—what's your name?—Ar! Can you hear me?
Yes! he answered.
The spirit was dancing urgently. You must listen. Listen carefully. She is right—it may be the only way.
Not you too! I don't believe it!
You do not know these weavings of power as I do. Jarvorus is right—I see no way out of the spell except to interrupt it at its source. And that source is her life. It is woven into the very fabric of the spell.
But SOMEONE could stop it! What about this Rent?
Hodakai's voice was low and bitter. Don't be a fool! They're keeping her alive for one reason, and that is to wilt the hearts of the dragons in the final battle. She is—forgive me, Jael, friend of Kan-Kon!—she is as dead to your world now as I
am.
Ar struggled for words.
And if you want her death to mean anything, to give any hope—
No, no, he wanted to cry. He didn't care about hope or meaning. He just wanted his friend to be free! And alive!
He became aware of the voice of the only one who had not spoken. Scrawwwww—Arrr—must do it—must give her the chance!
Ed, please don't—not you, too!
Melt the ice, rawwww! It's the only way, scrawwk-k-k, it can work!
His confusion was turning to anger. How do you know it can?
The parrot fluttered his wings violently. We're riggers! Rig-g-g-gers! Melt the ice! Hawwwwk-k-k! Must give her the chance—melt the ice!
Yes, that's it! Hodakai cried. Maybe we can do that for her! Jarvorus!
The false-iffling's head flashed one way, then another. Suddenly it rose up on its hind legs. Yes! it hissed. I must have your help! We must remove the ice barrier! You must soften it, to let me in! Use your powers! Are you willing, Jael?
Through the twisted net, Ar could see Jael staring wide-eyed, and nodding her head, and speaking so softly that he could not hear. But her lips seemed to be saying, Yes, you must . . .
Ar could not speak. Everyone else was set upon this insane course. But perhaps if he went along with them . . . if they could soften the barrier . . . melt the ice . . .
Perhaps they could free her. Not for death, but for life.
* * *
Surround her with heat, Hodakai said, glowing brighter.
Ar studied the effects of their efforts so far. We haven't the strength of that. But if we focus heat on the weak points, on the fracture lines . . .
Jael, on the inside, looked frightened but determined.
There was a brief interplay between Hodakai's shadow-figure and the inner glow of his spirit jar, then a thin beam of light shot out, striking the surface of the ice. Hodakai retained his rigger's ability to craft images—but was it enough to help?
Jael, you must try to melt it from within, Ar whispered, formulating his own image—a fine plane of fire cutting like a scalpel at a flaw in the ice. But it was hard to distinguish the ice of the binding from the fracture zones in the net. Carefully, he thought. Carefully!
His words were punctuated by the sound of Ed tapping with his beak, testing other points in the ice. Ruck-k-k . . . ruck-k-k . . .
The false-iffling scurried around the barrier, hissing, as it watched their efforts. It was growing frantic. You must hurry! Rent will be coming! More heat! You must melt it all! Use your anger! Use your anger for heat!
Suddenly Ar understood what Jarvorus was talking about. He was full of anger—rage at Tar-skel, who had threatened the realm in the first place—and rage at Jarvorus, who had tricked Jael into a death sentence—and rage at himself, for allowing it to happen!
A sullen glow radiated from his fragment of the net, fueled by his anger. Outside the net, he could see Jarvorus prompting Hodakai, until a similar glow emerged from the captured rigger-spirit. Damn you! he whispered to himself. Melt—damn you! If he had to burn out the rigger-net to free her, that's what he would do.
It's working! Jarvorus hissed, dancing close. The ice was shrinking, growing thinner around Jael. The false-iffling was quivering with excitement. It's working!
Jael—if you can, spring, when we've melted through! he whispered silently. Be ready, Jael! She was peering out at Jarvorus now, eyes wide with fear. Be ready! Ar cried inwardly, not wanting to say it aloud, not wanting Jarvorus to know that he was hoping to free her alive.
Almost, Jarvorus whispered. The ice flashed and evaporated from her face and head.
More! she gasped. I'm almost out!
Ar couldn't contain himself any longer. The ice broke away from her shoulders and arms with great clouds of steam. JAEL! he screamed. BE READY TO BREAK OUT! BE READY TO FLY!
He could see her struggling to move; but her arms, though free of ice, moved as though she were caught in a thick liquid. I can't, Ar! Don't try—please! Just let me—!
She cannot! cried the false-iffling, seeing what Ar was intending. She will be caught by Rent! You must let me—ah, there!
The last of the ice vanished with a sudden sparkle of heat. But there remained a glimmering light surrounding her like a forcefield, and Ar realized with a shock that they had only broken through one outer barrier. She remained bound in the spell; her eyes caught his, and in them he saw her despair and her desperation. She could move her limbs only a little; she could not flee, or move the ship at all.
That's enough, Jarvorus said throatily. For a moment, his form seemed to flicker, now an animal, now an iffling-flame. Jael, it is time . . . if you would have me do this!
Ar felt his breath explode in helpless protest: NO—!
* * *
As the last of the ice melted, doubt suddenly rose up like a towering wave in Jarvorus' mind. He heard Rent's voice, with the force of a howling typhoon. KEEP THIS ONE UNTIL I ARRIVE! It felt as though his master's hand were pressing down upon him, forcing him to abide by his instructions. But he no longer wanted to please Rent. He had already decided. I have made up my mind. I will not do what Rent wants. I cannot. I must not . . .
Only one thing enabled him to persevere, and that was the sight of Jael, the ice barrier gone, her eyes filled with fear and with a longing for freedom. Jarvorus pressed his thoughts to hers, felt her quiet desperation, and her doubt. It was killing her to wait, while her friends cried out their grief . . . and she was starting to wonder: Was Ar right? Could she escape?
Jarvorus grieved for her. Jael, he whispered, Rent is surely on his way. You cannot move, you cannot escape him any other way.
The heat of Ar's and Hodakai's efforts flashed around him, sheets of fire on his body. He instinctively began slipping back into nonphysical form, but he needed the animal form to do what he must do. He flickered between the two forms, as he bounded through the softening protective layer of the binding. Ar was trying to free her physically, but there was no hope of that, and Jarvorus had no time to explain.
At last he faced Jael within the glimmering confines of the inner spell. It is time, he whispered, from his solid form. Are you ready? She nodded, and her eyes seemed terribly bright as she turned her head, presenting her neck to him. I will be quick. Farewell, my new friend! he hissed.
Baring his teeth, he sprang.
* * *
The world was on fire. Jael could make out nothing, except the heat pummeling the icy prison that held her. Ar had come to agree with her after all, then—and Ed, and Hodakai. She was nearly overcome with terror—she did not want to die—but even in the midst of the fire, she knew it was the only way. Hurry! she thought to the others. Before I lose my courage! Oh, Windrush—Ar—Ed—!
As the ice vanished, she felt an instant of hope—then felt the molasses resistance of the spell, and heard Jarvorus' words: Rent is coming! And she knew there was no other hope. She heard the others calling out to each other, but her ears were pounding and she could scarcely make out a word. Jarvorus' shadowy animal shape was bounding through the barrier. It was shimmering, now shadow now flame now shadow. And its voice was whispering in her thoughts . . .
Bow your head . . . I will be quick . . .
The tears came even as she obeyed. She averted her eyes so that she would not have to see him strike. She felt another sudden movement, and a rustling presence ballooning into her mind, crying out urgently, Jayyyyyyyllll, awwwwk, come with youuuu . . . ! She could do nothing to stop Ed's sudden flashing movement, joining himself to her, and she couldn't help weeping with joy . . . and with grief for Ar . . .
His voice rang through the net, a terrible cry: Jael—NOOO!
She felt a moment of terrible doubt. Ed was wailing softly within her . . .
Jarvorus sprang, and she glimpsed a flash of shadow-fire: Jarvorus' fangs, as they plunged into her throat. The pain was instantaneous, a searing fire—and the realization that it was done—then a shock of ice, and a great wave o
f dizziness. After the first moment, she no longer felt pain, but only the dizziness of consciousness beginning to slip away.
There were voices calling to her, but failing . . . growing inaudible. The binding spell was dissolving, fading against the sky like stars against a dawn; the ship slung to her back was falling away, drifting free; the tortured and fractured net no longer surrounded her. She was drifting away . . . the pain was gone, but so were her friends . . . she cried out to them, but they were receding . . .
She thought dimly that there must be something more to it than this . . . some way to reach to her friends Windrush! some way to help Ar! some way to help, some way not to die! . . . but now she could no longer even see the cavern, it was not so much like rising, as she had always imagined it, but rather expanding, growing thinner, thinner . . . so this was what it was like to die, whispered a voice like a faint breath of wind.
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