"Yes, but I never knew what they were for."
"The first one functioned as the movement rope and the other one, the one that did not connect to anything, operated as a locking mechanism."
"You had better hurry up. We cannot afford to spend any more time here than necessary," said the young woman as she nervously looked toward the exit.
"Zyn, what I am trying to tell you is that unless I can cut the rope while the lever is disengaged, you will not move anywhere."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that because I cannot figure how to move the cages to the ledge, and likely will not be able to in time, I will have to cut the rope to the counter weight, but if that locking rope is still engaged, it will not matter."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I have to cut the rope AFTER I disengage the lever." As he finished, the wolf pups picked their heads up and started loosely wagging their tails.
"Are you serious? Is there no other way?" His silent nod of affirmation did nothing to quell her increasing heart rate.
"I am sorry, Zyn, but there is only one way I will be able to cut the rope in time." The second of the wolf pups, the one ascribed to Rony began wagging his tail more quickly while its counterpart's tail stopped.
While Ronialdin unslung his bow from his back, Zyn pleaded her case, "Rony, you cannot be serious! You cannot do this! There must be another way!"
"Unless you can think of how I can be in two places at the same time, then this IS the only way."
She tried to protest again, but was met with an abrupt halting gesture from her brother. Rony quietly and deliberately surveyed his surroundings taking several moments to stand in different positions, all within reach of the lever. When he was satisfied with his position, he fixed his feet in his drawing stance and began to repeatedly draw his bow by mimicking the twisting motion he would need after disengaging the lever. Repeating this several times, he progressed from a slow and deliberate motion to a very rapid and explosive motion ending just before he would release the bow string.
During his preparation, he transitioned his conscious thoughts from a simple movement pattern to understand the totality of his mental and emotional progression from that of a small, twelve year old boy, to that of a growing man who accepted the full consequences of life, death, and failure and how one inevitably lead to the other. Every shot, every blister, every breath during his practice, every droplet of sweat and tear he cried could be fulfilled within the potential of this moment. Every single time he replayed the awful cries of his father echoing deeper than even his soul, and more numerous than the horrible nightmares of his father's blood hitting the ground, had he hoped for this day. Not a day, however, where his sister's life would hang in the balance, and certainly not the balance of his shot, but a day where all things could be made new and the chance that the uncorrupted redemption of his torture could be realized as more than an impossibility. A day where he might be allowed to finally rest. A day where he would not miss.
Time slowed to a painful progression where each individual grain of sand hung expectantly between the two perfectly converging sides of fate and hope. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to feel the imperceptible nuances of the airflows within the cavern hall. He felt the slight updraft from the bottomless cavern as well as the wisp of breeze from the open entry way. He even sensed the increased breath from his sister as her heart continued to thump within her chest. He felt the very sounds of the walls and the ever-so-soft presence of light with which to see by. And lastly, he felt the increased dampness and calculated how this would affect the tautness of his drawn string resulting in his arrow having a slower flight in the air making it more susceptible to the environmental variables.
However fixed upon the external as he was, there was a gravity pulling him inside himself to find that point of focus eluding him on the fateful day of his father's end. What had he failed to do that caused his arrow to fly astray from its target and strike that bear? Just like this moment, he had considered all of the external factors his father had taught him. He had calculated everything, but had somehow still missed. Unless he discovered what had gone wrong all those years ago, he was likely to miss this shot as well, and he could not miss. Continuing its gentle pull, echoing from somewhere inside he heard his father's quiet yet reassuring voice speak as if he was alive and with him, "Rony, it is the mind that is most difficult to control. All of your knowledge will matter not unless you possess knowledge of self. It is then, even if your arrow flies astray, that you will never miss."
And that was it. For the first time, he saw himself while immersed in the knowledge that this moment, this shot, his sister's life existed not just to save her life, but to save his. He saw a vulnerable and small young boy who had so needed the approval of his father to feel peace that his worry at missing the target was the very reason he had missed. And he saw himself as the same now. He needed his father's approval to live in peace, but he would never have it. Yet every time he felt his father's embrace, every time he was congratulated due to a successful completion of his task, and every time his father smiled at him when he failed, he finally saw that what he had been trying to gain through success, he had already received while he yet failed.
He could not explain why, but he knew he was free to take the shot, and he knew he was finally free to make it. His target was small and his room for error was smaller. The consequences of missing were tragic, yet bore no influence over his father's acceptance of him, and more importantly, his acceptance of himself. He opened his eyes and saw everything reflected in his visual sight. He saw all things within and without. He saw all variables naked and hiding nothing from him.
He pulled an arrow from his quiver and knocked it. Continuing his twisting but slowing greatly, he drew the bowstring to its fullest. Two more times he twisted in place. On the third time, he let his bowstring retract so he would be free to pull the lever. With an audible click piercing the eerie silence overtaking the cavern, he deactivated the locking mechanism allowing his sister's row of cages to begin their eventual plummet. Within moments it began accelerating toward the end pulley where it would hit and drop into the endless depths of the cavern below. With a speed rivaling the lightning quick snakes of the Green Forest, he uncoiled, drew, and loosed in one, fluid and beautifully free motion.
The arrow, cutting through Zyn's screams, Rony's hopes, and the thick cavernous air, streaked toward the rope. As it did, Rony continued to spin and simultaneously drew, knocked, and let fly another arrow, this time down the cavern hallway extending from the entrance. As the second arrow struck an intruding goblin squarely between the eyes, his first arrow pierced the rope just moments before the first cage impacted the end pulley. The string to the counter weight was severed and Zyn’s cage was free to move toward the ledge.
It swayed violently because of the halted momentum, but slowly began moving in the direction of the cavern floor. Rony, having fully expected both arrows to hit their mark, stood up and turned to see his sister's cell increasing its velocity with each passing moment. In less time than he thought possible, her speed had accelerated to a potentially destructive rate. The first cell crashed against the cavern floor and the next two hit just as hard as and with less control than the one before it. Rony thought to engage the locking mechanism again, but felt that the momentum of his sister's cage would cause a potentially violent reaction that might dislodge it from the suspending rope rendering the effectiveness of his shot obsolete.
He had no other choice but to let it crash against the cavern floor as the previous last three had seconds before. As it did, the door came flying off its hinges. Zyndalia tumbled out striking the wall with a breath releasing thud. The wolf pups were instantly over to her, licking her face and tending to any scrapes she received as a result of her somersaulting. Slightly dazed, her ability to stand independently was seized only after a few moments of unsteady balance. Her defiance against the forces of dizzin
ess triumphed preventing her swaying and stumbling.
"Zyn," said Rony as he came rushing over, "do you feel well enough to make our escape?"
"Yes, I feel fine. Just a little dizzy and bruised, but I can make it. How is Liani?" she asked as she walked over and knelt by the groggy woman.
"She is weak," answered her brother with a faintly expressed graveness.
Sensing his implication, she answered by meeting his graveness with determination, "We cannot leave her here."
"We may not have the choice. I do not think she will be able to walk herself," her brother answered continuing his grave tone.
"Then you will carry her," she met his eyes as she rose.
Rony knew better than to press his position once his sister had fixed her will upon a decision. Over years and years of battling her, regarding his instructions aimed at developing her skills, he had learned that lesson well. He still remembered and chuckled from time to time regarding the first lesson he had attempted to give her. She was only eight years old when he told her she would not be allowed to shoot an arrow until she learned how to properly string her bow the way he had showed her. What he had expected to be a very easy and simple lesson, executable well before their dinner hours, had extending well beyond it to the point where their mother had compelled them to end the lesson regardless of its success, or lack thereof. To this day, she had still not mastered the proper way to string a bow. He took in a short sigh, knelt down beside the weak woman, and cradled her to lift her up again. "Then let us be away from this foul place. The stench was almost too much for the pups to overcome. And without them, I fear we will not find our way out."
"Do you know the way out?" she asked.
"No, but neither did I know the way in."
"How did you find me?"
"I trusted them," he said as he gestured to the two wolf pups. "They lead me to you."
Rony looked over to the pups that were currently standing in the archway of the exit to the cavern, both wagging their tails and conveying an anxious edge to their current demeanor. "Go," said Rony. The pups, previously held in place by an unseen force, were released as he spoke and instantly began trotting down the cavernous hallway. They were careful never to extend their lead beyond visual contact. At several intersections, the pups would crouch low and stop. Each time, a small troop of three to four goblins would pass without discovering their hidden position. And each time the pups would continue their progression only after the goblins had passed. They followed the pups through the labyrinth of twists and turns until they could see a faint glow of light at the end of a particularly long passageway. The pups hurried and caused Zyn and Rony to fall behind. Still carrying the frail and groggy woman, Rony's legs began to slightly quiver with each step. While not enough to prevent his continuance, her weight, as light as she had become, was still beginning to wear him down the way the subtle but sustained pressure of water wears away rock.
As the glow at the end of their current passageway grew brighter, so did their sense of hope. Yet, as their hope began to wax, they heard some faint, guttural shouting noises behind them. The alarm had been raised. Zyndalia and Ronialdin looked toward each other and came to the unuttered conclusion that their escape would not end now at the threshold of their cavernous surroundings, but would continue into the daylight they so desperately craved. Just as the pace and distance of their strides increased, they heard, mixed with the continued voices of the goblins, deep grows and low pitched barks. At the sound of the barking, both brother and sister turned to see a faint glow from the direction they came.
Torches. The goblins had assembled a recovery party and were now, without doubt, in pursuit. Bolstered by the approaching daylight, they each dug their heels into the cavern floor and left nothing behind. Zyn, able to outdistance her brother because of the burden he was carrying, began to sprint faster than Rony had ever seen. Tearing into the ground, she burst forth from the darkened cave into the light of escape. Because of its contrast with the darkness they had been in, he was not able to penetrate its visual shield and assumed she continued to run, still trailing the wolves. Moments later, he too crossed the threshold of dark to light. While he expected his crossing to provide a boon to his affect, he was instead met by an overwhelming doom as he came to an abrupt halt created by the vision he saw.
Not ten paces in front of him stood a semi-circle of at least twenty goblins, two of which were holding his sister by her hair as she kneeled facing him with her hands behind her back. The wolf pups were suspended completely off the ground in the mouths of much larger canine beasts by the hair on the backs of their necks. "No escape from him. He rules all. You put down and come. Come or we kill," said the apparent leader in the thick goblin accent as it struggled over the words spoken in the common tongue. As he finished his sentence, the two goblins holding Zyn's hair pulled on it until her neck lay exposed to the edge of the blade another Goblin held.
Rony stood, unable to respond, as he felt his fatigue resulting weakness overtake his limbs and heart. He knew it had taken his sister far too long to find the moonshade to help with the poison coursing through his body. He had almost given up when he saw the two little pups emerge from the thicket into the clearing. He expected to see his sister moments behind them, but when her image was not presented, he noticed that one of the wolf pups was carrying something in its mouth. It was the moonshade. After he tended to his wounds by applying half of the plant directly to his wound and ingesting the other half, he felt the heat of the surrounding skin dissipate.
He stood up and felt more security offered him by his weakened legs. Both pups had been pacing back and forth filled with anxiety. When they saw Rony stand, having regained enough strength to do so, they began wagging their tails and jumping up and down with a successful enthusiasm. But the anxiety did not leave. "Ok, now show me where Zyn is," he said to the pups who instantly bounded off into the woods. The pups had led him, somehow, directly to the cave where she was being held as well as through the endless mazes to the cavernous room housing her cell. After feeling the desperation when she did not return with the pups, after he blindly trusted them to lead him to her, and after the circumstances surrounding her imprisonment had been overcome, he simply could not believe they were captured once again. Instead of setting down the woman he was carrying, he fell to his knees and clung to her tightly.
The goblin doing the speaking drew his wretched looking blade and stepped a few paces toward Rony. "Let down," commanded the goblin leader. Rony looked to Zyn, but could not find her eyes as her head was still bent backward with a cruel blade preventing her struggle. Rony looked up to the sky, tears welling in his eyes. He silently asked himself what had happened. He could not construct any answer suitable for his logical mind. He simply could not fathom how, after everything, it had come to this.
He clutched the woman tightly in his arms and whispered gently in her ear, "I am sorry." She did not respond, still too weak to speak or muster enough awareness of her surroundings to acknowledge his apology. He set her down as gently as a feather landing while sustained by the lightest of breezes. He brushed the hair back from her face which caused her to open her eyes. They met his and she offered a very small and weak smile after which they closed again. Reflected within their pale, steel grey, was a light unaware of the hopelessness they had run into. Her hair was the color of the sun during its setting which burned a red-blonde. She reached for his hand, and grasping it, caused his tears, barely held at bay by his resilience of being strong for years upon years, to release enough allowing two droplets to land upon the skin of her face. She flinched, but did not open her eyes.
"You stand now. Come here," said the goblin leader pointing to a spot directly in front of him with his extended sword. Deflated, Rony stood up and walked the few paces to stand where he was directed. Looking around, he saw that each of the goblins either had swords brandished, or bows knocked and drawn, all pointing toward him. "Kneel," said the goblin as Rony
reached the indicated spot. Paralyzed by a quickly setting numbness, Rony did not kneel. Consumed with utter desolation, he could not find the strength enough to even relax his legs in compliance and allow gravity to do its job. Three heartbeats passed and the goblin leader punched Rony in the stomach doubling him over. A moment later, another goblin kicked his leg dislodging Rony's balance. He fell to both knees. "You die now. You killed many. You die now," said the goblin through gritted teeth. When the Goblin stopped speaking, he grunted something to one of other goblins who responded by tying Rony's hands behind his back. He offered no resistance.
Reparations. Rony silently gave up as the totality of his life amounted to nothing more than abject failure at what his father would have successfully completed. Why should his life not end here, at the hands of those seeking to brutally invade upon everything he was attempting to accomplish? Why should he not give up? He had endeavored his entire life to atone for one moment. One singular moment defined not only his life's path, but that of his sister's and mother's. Why should he not pay for their suffering as well?
In between his mental condemnations, he heard the guttural language of the goblins being spoken by their leader as he addressed his surrounding companions. They erupted into a long and boisterous cheer accompanied by shouts, jeers, and clanging of metal on metal. This gave Rony a moment to look at the woman he had just carried, still laying on the ground, breathing slowly, but breathing nonetheless. He considered how beautiful she was, how vulnerable and yet how strong she must have been. He would have liked to hear her voice and look more deeply into her eyes. He turned his head toward his sister who was still held by her hair preventing any hope of meeting her eyes. He saw the wolf pups and how helpless they looked while hanging from the mouths of greater beasts like a bag of waste ready to be discarded at any moment. He would have liked to see them grow and become the brilliant wolves they would have had they not become entwined with his life. But as all things stood now, they would likely be feed for their larger cousins.
Convergence (The Dragon Within Saga Book 1) Page 45
