I followed his instruction, and found that my tattoo was already awakening on its own, in response to Breena’s Wood magic. It helped to continue what Breena had started, gradually soothing my veins and reducing the strain from healing enough to allow my stamina and mana pools start to regenerate, even if it was only a trickle.
“There are more Horde downstairs,” Val confirmed as she joined us again, shadowy magic whirling in front of her pupils. “But not many, and no Spawns. If you’ll wait up here, Wes, we’ll clear them out.”
“Sure thing,” I replied. “But keep away from the Pit until I come down.”
My retinue and the Atlanteans took up positions at the door. Via lingered near me for a moment.
You’re telling the truth, ya? She sent me quietly. You can save my people? I felt her hesitate for a moment. Because I have to try and kill them, if you can’t.
I’ll be right down, I told her. I don’t want to make you false promises. All I can say is that it’s worked at least five times before. Technically six, but that last victim was just a tree.
A tree? She asked, baffled, but only for a moment. Ah. The Woadlands. Claro. I will go then, but I will come back to bring you down myself.
I sent her my consent, though I wasn’t sure it was necessary. Nowadays, Ball-ee did most of the work for this process. But if they felt like they needed me down there, I would go ahead and show up.
Keep me updated if there are any problems, I sent. Then I slumped forward and tried not to think about anything but catching my breath and getting better. I was dimly aware of their charge into the ship’s hold and the subsequent unleashing of all manner of violence to the inhabitants below. Mostly spells and clanging metal, followed by the familiar sound of a Hordebeast’s death-cries. It was quick—too quick, in fact—because I was still tired when they messaged that they were done.
I’m coming back up, Via pressed. You’ll keep your promise, ya?
I’ll be right down, I sent wearily. Just let me get up.
I’ll help you walk, she insisted, as if she was worried about me running away at the last minute. I heard her feet stomp their way up the stairs, and I reminded myself how horrible being trapped in a Horde Pit was, and how horrible it was to know that someone you loved or cared about was suffering inside one. Breena had almost thrown up when she learned that Petalbell had been sacrificed to the first Pit I had destroyed.
Stop being so desensitized, I scolded myself. Don’t just sit there and feel tired.
I was halfway to my feet when Via slammed the door open and marched out.
“Alright,” she said briskly as she approached me with purposeful strides. “You can walk now, ya?”
I tried to figure out why my mindscreen kept translating her last word as ‘ya,’ because I didn’t recall that being a thing in English or Spanish. But she didn’t seem to be in a mood to give me time to ponder it. She reached for my arm, and now that we were face to face, I noticed that she was biting her lip.
“Yeah, I can walk,” I told her, accepting her aid anyway. “Are the steps downstairs wide enough for you to give me a hand, though?”
She nodded, still clenching her lip between her teeth. She led me to the cabin, nearly tripping once.
“Sorry,” she said, “you’re too tall.”
Unlike Merada, Via was only average in height, which meant I towered over her.
The Hordeship’s hold was just as dark and menacing as the other places they had chosen to house their pits. Red glyphs lit the walls here and there, instead of the usual Horde torches. Via led me as quickly as she dared through them, which was fine by me. I had no desire to sightsee, and my team could loot anything we needed.
“It’s behind this door,” Via informed me while dragging me to what would have normally been a cargo hold. “It’s won’t let the others get anywhere close, though. Do we need to do anything to help you?”
“No idea,” I admitted. “I wasn’t even aware the Pits could fight.”
“They can’t, really,” Via said as she shook her head. “They can make more Horde, or thrash around enough to pull people in. So I told your crew to stand back.”
Through the mindlink, I could tell that she wanted to ask me about the Atlanteans with me, but she was too concerned about her people still in the Pit to bring it up.
“Will you be able to save all of them?” she blurted. “Because, if you can’t...” she swallowed, and more emotions rolled through the mindlink. She had seen the state the Pit victims were in, and she felt sick. Sick and frightened, but still determined to do all she could for them. “If you can’t save some of them, then I need to make sure they won’t suffer,” she finally said.
I got it then. The tiredness. The short temper. The number of years this woman had been on her own, with no one to help her. The numerous hard choices she’d had to make, with no good answer, no way to save all the people she wanted to save.
The hell, Teeth swore, as he came to the same conclusions. Get off her shoulder, and offer her your own!
Crown her, the mighty voice told me. And write supportive love on her arms.
“It’s not going to come to that,” I replied firmly, standing to my full height and gently removing my arm from her grip. “There are at least three things I can try, even if my usual method doesn’t work. And the other two have worked in the past as well. We’ve had victims come back who had been reduced to nebulous little spheres, though that had taken being trapped in the Pit for a while. But either way, it’s way too soon to euthanize anyone. Let me try everything I can to help you out.” I began to push open the door, pausing before I opened it completely. “I will need you to help me calm the victims down, though. Can you do that?”
She kept chewing her lip and didn’t say anything. But she nodded hard.
I finished opening the door, hearing the wet, sticky thrashing that I wish I didn’t have the ability to recognize. I entered a massive room that was evidently a modified cargo hold, with a wide ledge constructed all along the walls. The Atlanteans and my personal retinue were standing all along that ledge, with weapons pointed at the familiar green-brown muck with burping bubbles in the center. It thrashed along the edges of its enclosure, as if trying to prevent anyone from coming close. I recognized the writhing forms beneath the surface, people screaming in agony and horror, even while attempting to protect their faces with their hands.
As I advanced toward the edge, the Pit stilled, becoming slightly calmer on the surface. The sludge in the middle lifted up, as if it was trying to face me.
“Mas...ter,” the disgusting bubbles burped, smothering the screams around it for the moment. “Help me.”
Via’s eyes grew wide as she turned to look at me.
“Master? Que?” she asked, her native language translating as Spanish for some stupid reason. But an explanation would have to wait.
“Do you truly acknowledge me as your master?” I said, stepping forward. “Do you acknowledge my authority over you? Your obligation to obey my commands?”
The Pit sloshed uncertainly at that.
“Mas...ter?” it asked, because it didn’t understand. I realized that I was once again reading the expressions of a giant torture-ooze, and got upset with myself.
“I will help you now,” I replied firmly, feeling Via grow tense next to me. “Cease harming your captives. Remove them from your substance as gently as possible, then await my further instructions.”
The entire surface of the muck quivered at once.
“What?” another bubble burped hesitantly.
“I told you,” I replied firmly, focusing on what I had to do, instead of dwelling on how disgusting talking to these things was. I reminded myself that Ball-ee used to be a Pit, too. “Cease harming your captives. Surrender them to me, and to the Starsown’s local Satellite. Then stand by for further instructions.”
Another quiver. Then…
“Him,” the Pit burped, drawing back from me. “You’re… him. Traitor… prince.”
Via muttered something under her breath I couldn’t catch.
“Why…” the Pit burped. “Why… kill… me? Want… serve.” A part of the muck containing the bodies suddenly swished, moving them closer to me. “Want… give…”
“I just ordered you to give them to me,” I said, taking another step forward. “You are to give them to me as they are. I do not need them to be changed. I do not need them to be harmed. I need them as they are.”
“Not… right,” the muck burped. “What… you want… not right… can make them… love you.”
I sighed.
“Why do I still bother… Ball-ee?”
“Di-rec-tive?” the little jelly in Val’s pack asked. The Pit splashed at the sound of the heal-jelly’s voice.
“What… that?” The muck quaked with raw fear. “Get… away.”
“Ball-ee, go save your brother,” I ordered. “Or friend. Or whatever he is.”
“Di-rec-tive!” the little blue bubble chirped as it sprang to the ground. “Change! Save! Heal! Di-rec-tive!”
. The Horde aberration recoiled as the little heal-jelly bounded toward its border.
“No… get… away! Not… right!”
The center of the giant pool of muck shrank back, bracing itself against the lower wall opposite Ball-ee. It flailed slimy tentacles uselessly in an attempt to defend itself, but they dissolved upon impact as they struck the little jelly. Bubbles erupted everywhere from the giant muddy blob of slime, eliciting a burping scream.
“No! No! Don’t… want!”
“Di-rec-tive!” The little jelly squeaked, seeping mist from its entire body and leaping directly into the Pit’s center mass. Another slurpy howl was cut off as the green-brown ooze shuddered a final time, its snot-mud color vanishing until it resembled clear water.
As I had come to expect during this technique of redeeming Pits, it splashed downward into a hundred thousand tiny droplets.
Blue mist pooled out all along the floor of the former Pit, and the dozens of bodies landed on it gently, as if it were a giant, cloudy cushion.
“Let’s go, people,” I said, stepping forward. “The victims will be frightened, cold, and naked.” I began summoning blankets from Breaker’s storage space. “Atlanteans, Via, each of you take at least five.”
Via gasped and snatched an entire stack of blankets, easily ten or more, from my hand and rushed down into the hold. Everyone else began grabbing blankets as they followed in her wake. Petalbell spiraled down in a trail of pink and red sparkles, several fairy-sized blankets already in her hands. After ensuring all of the Atlanteans were also equipped with blankets, I hurried down as well.
As before, most of the Horde victims had gone unconscious. Ball-ee had gotten better about using his mist, which means we didn’t have as many awake, screaming people as there had been during previous rescues. I settled for covering any sleeping forms that I passed with blankets while I made my way toward the next conscious victim. My practice and improved body made it easier than last time, letting me cover over a dozen bodies before I began to catch up with Via.
Via was probably close to my own speed, but she was still on her first sleeping form, checking the little girl for a pulse, even though the child’s chest was clearly rising and falling as she breathed. Via still examined the little girl all over before casting a Water spell to diagnose the child and conclusively determine that she was fine. Disbelief was etched all over her face.
Is this real? The caramel-skinned woman asked. Are they really alright?
Their bodies are fine, I said as I settled another blanket over a sleeping, breathing form. I had worked out a system for checking them quickly, and these people displayed all the normal symptoms we had come to expect from a recent Pit victim: a few bruises and low body temperature. None of them had been turned into balls or sustained any other weird injuries. Apparently, those took prolonged exposure to occur, and even then, they weren’t fatal, since the death of a victim would deprive the Pit of a power source.
I saw Via blink and gaze around in astonishment.
They’re really all here? She asked, her voice shaking, even in the mindlink. I didn’t lose a single one?
She was exhausted, I realized again. She had constantly been on the edge, jumping from combat to combat without food or rest, trying to singlehandedly save as many lives as she could, and never saving enough.
They killed a few of the elderly back during their raid, I said softly. They were dead before we could get there.
I already knew about those, Via said to me. I was expecting to lose them all, Wes. I had written off everyone I couldn’t save earlier.
I saw her shudder, clutching the little girl tighter. She looked around wildly, torn between holding onto the child and moving toward the next body. More fatigue washed out from her, and I realized she was finally at her limit.
Hey, I sent gently. Via. Just be somewhere they can see you if they wake up. They may not know to trust me or the Atlanteans. But if they see you, then we can take care of the rest. Can you do that for me?
She nodded, still not relinquishing the child in her arms. She stood up and proceeded to make her way toward the center of the group.
I didn’t lose any, I heard her say to herself through the mindlink, probably accidentally. I didn’t lose any this time.
She had already made some sort of peace over the dead at the landing. I could understand that. I turned my attention to the two little jellies nearby.
Ball-ee was still emitting his mist as he nudged the new, smaller jelly next to him.
“Ball-ee!” he said enthusiastically. He gestured to himself with a quiver, then gestured to the new jelly. “Ball-ee! Di-rec-tive!”
“Di-rec...tive?” it babbled apprehensively. It quivered in multiple directions, as if it were trying to inspect every angle of the unfamiliar surroundings. Ball-ee nudged the smaller jelly encouragingly.
“Di-rec-tive!” he chirped encouragingly. “Seek! Save! Heal!” He wiggled a pseudopod out at all the people slowly beginning to wake up. “Di-rec-tive!”
“Di-rec-tive,” the smaller jelly warbled slowly. Then it began to rapidly spring in place, as if in excitement and comprehension. “Di-rec-tive! Di-rec-tive! Heal! Save! Di-rec-tive!”
“Yes!” Ball-ee squeaked back. “Di-rec-tive!”
The Oceanfolk islanders that had been resting on the floor all around us began to wake up, some with drowsy mumbles, others with frightened gasps. Still others tried to figure out where the blankets had come from. They were a much smaller group than those I had rescued in the Woadlands, maybe fifty people total. Perhaps that kept them from panicking as quickly as the Woadfolk had. By now, most of them had started looking around, reaching for their spouses or children or parents. Disbelieving whispers and pained sobs began to ripple through the crowd. Via looked close to breaking down herself. The little girl in her arms woke up with a cry as well, and the Satellite clutched her even tighter.
Breena, I think you’re up, I sent to the little fairy. I would have done it myself, but the Malus bastards had given my race a bad reputation, and for all I knew, they had sent imposters here, too.
Got it, she said, flying to the roof of the hold. She expanded herself to her near-human size, taking on her Dawn Fairy form and spreading golden wings that shined with orange, white, and pink light.
“Be at peace, children of the Sun-Jeweled Seas,” she said in a gentle, musical voice. “You have been freed by the Steward and Challenger of Avalon. Behold her Satellite, Dona Via,” Breena gestured over to her other self. “Behold, Wes Malcolm, the true Challenger of Avalon, who has saved you from the powers of the Horde and their Pit, as he has done in the past. He had the blessings and aid of your own hero, Dona Via, who has worked tirelessly on your behalf, alone. But she will no longer be alone in supporting you,” Breena promised, looking at her sister Satellite. “Avalon has come to your assistance, with the Challenger himself, and with myself, the Holy Fairy. Not only that,
but he has brought to your aid heroes from another age, the true Atlanteans. Their ship waits beyond, and will take you somewhere safe. Follow us, beloved ones of this world. Follow us to safety and rest.”
The islanders looked up to my bonded sprite in bewilderment in awe. Then, one by one, either relief won out, and they began weeping with joy and hugging whoever was near, or the trauma from being in a Horde Pit overpowered them, and they collapsed, sobbing with mad grief instead. Ball-ee and the other new heal jelly began moving toward the victims who were inconsolable, nudging them and spraying blue mist.
Petal also flew in their midst.
“Don’t cry!” she shouted. “Not yet! It won’t help here! Wait until you get somewhere safe! Then you can grieve! And it will get better!”
“How?” a little boy sobbed in an older woman’s arms. “How can it ever get better?”
“It gets better every time you try!” the little sprite shouted fiercely. “Every time you just try to go on, it gets a little better! Even if you don’t realize it at the time!”
“How would you know?” a musical voice wept from the floor. I looked down to discover a tiny blue woman with webbed hands and feet, and mosquito-like wings behind her. A water fairy, I realized, wondering how one had gotten here. “How can I ever get better? It hurts too much! And I’m too small!”
“So was I!” Petal shouted. “I was small when it happened to me, too! But it didn’t make me stay small! Every day I tried to get better, I also grew! Grieve when you can, and it’s okay if you don’t always feel like you’ll make it! But what just happened can’t stop other good things from happening!” Petal turned to look at me, and then, interestingly, at Breyn as well. “I’m happier now than I was even before the Pit swallowed me, and the Pit has nothing to do with that! You’ll see that when you wake up tomorrow! But right now, you need to either follow us, or ask us to carry you, and either of those things is okay right now! Come on!” Petal grew a little larger, scooping up the smaller sprite and wrapping her up in a tiny blanket. “I’ll carry you until you are better enough to hope again!”
Lighting Distant Shores Page 38
