The Sword Falls

by A. J. Smith

  “The two of us can’t defend you, my lady,” added Siggy, nodding agreement at Kieran.

  “Perhaps they’re right,” said Tasha. “At the very least, these Sundered Wolves are… unpredictable. I know we need allies, but what if they just decide to kill us? They care nothing for their own lives, so why should they care for ours?”

  I listened to all three points of view, assessing their concerns, but not sharing them. They were afraid, and I struggled to understand why. “It’s worth the risk. Don’t worry,” I said, “I can defend us all.” Before any of them could respond, I followed Daniel Doesn’t Die into the windowless tower.

  Beyond the daylight, I could only see outlines. The bottom level of the tower appeared to be a single open space, with a stone staircase snaking around the wall. The floor was littered with shadowy objects, strewn between me and the stairs. To follow Daniel I had to kick several things out of my path, and realized they were metal, perhaps even pieces of armour. Behind me, there was considerable clattering, as the others joined me.

  “Rusty old armour,” observed Siggy. “Why leave it here?”

  No one answered her, though Daniel, standing at the base of the stairs, chuckled to himself. As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I saw the wide path he’d followed through the discarded, rusty metal. It was a well-worn path, as if the building and the armour had been here a long time, perhaps part of a tradition or an old story.

  I followed Daniel up the stairs, towards a small globe of light. The first floor was covered in a warm, red glow, from a single light source in the centre. Around the circumference of the tower were more suits of armour, all rusted brown, and displayed on the wall as trophies. The Sundered Wolf reached the top of the stairs and stepped aside, his head bowed. I moved past him and saw the single occupant of the windowless tower. It was a woman. She had her back to us and appeared to be looking at the suits of armour, as if displayed for her pleasure. Somewhere, at the back of my mind, a she-wolf growled.

  Kieran, Siggy and Tasha joined me at the top of the stairs, though the red glow and sombre atmosphere stopped any of them speaking. And perhaps there was something more, though only the Old Bitch of the Sea appeared to notice it. With Daniel’s head still bowed, the four of us just looked at the woman. She was short and rotund, with braided hair down to her waist. She wore a simple tunic, a voluminous skirt, and had bare feet. I could sense significant power within her, and the hairs began to rise across my remaining arm. She allowed us all to enter the chamber before she turned from the rusted suits of armour.

  “I have waited for you a long time,” said the woman, smiling. She was elderly, seventy years at least, though there was a girlish glint in her dark eyes. The minimal light obscured fine detail, but she wore her wrinkles well, showing an old beauty that time couldn’t touch. “My name is Eva Rage Breaker. I am called the Lady of Rust. And I bow before you, Alpha Wolf.”

  The old woman moved slowly, taking her time to look me up and down. I expected a comment or threat from Siggy or Kieran, but they said nothing. It was obvious from their faces that violence was not on their minds. They looked almost sleepy, as if their anger and aggression had been suppressed. Rage Breaker was well-named. Through subtle use of wyrd, she radiated an aura of calm, robbing even the Sea Wolves of their desire to fight.

  “Your power is impressive,” I conceded, “but it doesn’t work on me.” The she-wolf growled a second time, and I clenched my teeth. I snarled at the old woman, though I didn’t mean to. The Old Bitch of the Sea felt cornered, and I had a sudden urge to flee.

  “Please,” said Rage Breaker, tilting her head and exposing her throat. “Kill me… if you wish. I will not fight you. But perhaps I can help you.”

  I was now on the back foot, with anxiety turning into nausea. Her power didn’t work on me like with the others, but it was doing something to me. I looked around, almost in a panic. My three companions were silent, appearing almost asleep. Kieran and Siggy were either side of me, and Tasha was at the rear, standing inert on the top step. Daniel’s head was still bowed, and all four of them felt like statues, as the old woman got closer and closer.

  My breathing quickened and my blood began to boil, sending an intense feeling of fear throughout my body. With a sudden choice to make, and realizing I’d have to barrel through Tasha to get away, I attacked Eva Rage Breaker. First, a straight punch to the face, then a kick to the liver, then I tackled the powerful Sundered Wolf to the floor of her museum of rust. She didn’t fight back, and let me pin her in a mount, her bloody face passively pointing up at me. Whatever craft she possessed had stopped me using wyrd, but I didn’t care. Within my ears was a rumbling howl… The sound of a terrified she-wolf reacting to a threat.

  “Stop!” shouted Daniel, dropping his shoulder and shoving me off the old woman.

  I snarled, as we fell into a tangle of limbs on the floor. He was stronger than he looked and managed to stop me wrapping him up. I didn’t think about my one arm, or how terrible my wrestling had become, I just thought about fight or flight, and the Old Bitch of the Sea had made her decision. I swung my legs around his neck and squeezed, cutting off his air.

  In my peripheral vision, Rage Breaker stood, apparently unconcerned by her wounds. She extended both hands towards Daniel and I, managing to look peaceful and calm, despite a huge red mark around her eye. I was about to render Daniel unconscious and turn back to the old woman, when my body went limp. I released him, as pins and needles covered every inch of my skin. First my muscles tensed, then a sudden sweat covered my face. Then the she-wolf and I both howled in pain.

  “Don’t struggle, Alpha Wolf,” said Rage Breaker. “You will get a chance to say goodbye.”

  24

  The grove was beautiful. Tones of green and brown formed a shallow amphitheatre around a peaceful brook. The tall trees allowed wide beams of crisp sunlight to cover everything in a bronze glow, making every angle and colour more vibrant. In the centre was a small den, acting as a focal point around which the babbling water and warm light could flow. Three rocks, formed at different angles, and clear of the water, created an opening. There were twigs and dry grass at the mouth of the small cave, and a musty smell drifted from the darkness.

  “You look terrible,” said Jaxon Ice, strolling towards me around the brook. “You’re either not sleeping or not eating.” He frowned. “Or both.” The Wisp, my oldest friend, looked the same, though he now wore a subtle mantle of blue energy around his head.

  “Am I dreaming?” I asked. “Or dead?”

  “I think… neither,” he replied. “Though I can’t be sure. Hmm, I think someone is showing you this. Are they a friend? Have you found allies against the Sunken God?”

  I rubbed my eyes and tried to remember. An old woman, a strange hold, full of strange Eastron. The only thing that was obvious was that I felt far better, perhaps even clear-headed. I felt my emotions again, more powerful than before, though the peace of the grove stopped me torturing myself about everything that had happened since Jaxon died. Rage Breaker had done something to me, or was doing something to me. I couldn’t be sure which, but I felt like myself again.

  “She doesn’t wish me harm,” I replied. “I… I don’t know what she wants.”

  The Wisp raised his head, as if a sudden noise had reached his ears. I’d known him since we were children, and he was the best friend I’d ever had, though I knew he was truly dead, and I was looking at a spirit, not a man. I felt a separation between us, as if our worlds were linked by the most tenuous of threads. Then there was a growl from the den, and the she-wolf appeared.

  The Old Bitch of the Sea had grown. The spectral wolf now stood as high as my waist, and her eyes were no longer those of a puppy. The sunlight shone across her lustrous blue coat, and made her silvery eyes sparkle. There was a moment of tension in her demeanour, until she recognized me. Her mouth then opened, and she panted happily, loping quickly towards me. I smiled, crouching to let her paw at my shoulders and lick
my face. I ruffled her dense coat, and gave her a good scratch behind the ears, making her bushy tail vibrate in the air. She’d grown from a puppy to a large wolf in only a few weeks, and her spiritual power was now significant. She was far from the mighty spirit totem of the Sea Wolves, but her wyrd still eclipsed mine. Feeling her immense, primal energy, I couldn’t imagine how I’d carried a piece of her without going mad.

  “You kept her alive,” said Jaxon. “A hundred thousand years from now, she will still remember you.”

  The wolf and I locked eyes, with gentle ripples of wyrd passing between us. The she-wolf couldn’t control her power, nor could she comprehend what she was doing to me, a simple mortal woman. Despite her benevolent nature, her essence was overwhelming, as if an enormous tsunami was crashing over a tiny pond.

  “How is Rage Breaker doing this?” I asked Jaxon, my hands still running through the wolf’s thick coat. “I thought I’d carry the she-wolf forever.”

  “As did I,” replied the Wisp. “Your new friend is powerful… and she has an even more powerful ally.”

  “The phoenix,” I replied, making the she-wolf bow her head and emit a timid whine. Despite her immense power, I felt sorry for the spirit, and gave her as tight a cuddle as my one arm would allow. She responded, nuzzling her shoulders into me, and pawing at my face.

  Oddly, when I looked up, I saw a similar timidity in Jaxon Ice. In life, he was as brave as any Sea Wolf duellist, but as a spirit, he appeared vulnerable, perhaps enveloped in the same spiritual hierarchy that bound the Old Bitch of the Sea. A complicated ecosystem of ageless beings that I could never hope to understand. In fact, as I hugged the spectral wolf, I felt my connection to both of them growing more and more distant.

  “Thank you for what you did for us,” I said in a whisper, holding the she-wolf’s face. “You defined who we were… the Sea Wolves. You were our totem and our friend.” I smiled at the shimmering spirit. “And you gave your life for us. I hope… maybe far in your future, you find another warrior civilization. They will be made better by your friendship.”

  “But no spirits, gods or men should hold dominion over you,” said Jaxon. “It’s time to be Adeline Brand again and face the Sunken God.”

  “What do they know?” I asked. “About the end of the world?”

  “One of them saw a piece of it long ago,” replied the Wisp. “Ask the one who doesn’t die about the First Whip… and why the Sundered Wolves left the Hidden Claw. Ask him about the black dust.”

  I felt myself moving away, as if my vision was shifting. The feeling of warm fur slowly left my fingertips, and the low murmur of a contented wolf became softer. My wyrd flared and separated, as if passing through a fine sieve. My own prodigious spiritual power flowed back to me, leaving behind a huge wash of energy – everything I’d been given by the Old Bitch of the Sea. The energy became a vortex of pale-blue wyrd, before shooting back towards the spectral wolf. The last thing I saw, before Jaxon and the she-wolf disappeared over the peaceful horizon, was a glowing bird, with vibrant feathers of red and gold. It sat atop a mountain in the distance, and I felt that to look at it for too long would invite madness.

  *

  “Get the fuck off me!” I shouted, lashing out with my one arm and both feet. I wasn’t sure who I was attacking, but there were at least three people trying to hold me down.

  “Adeline, stop kicking me,” grunted a male voice.

  “Pin her down,” added a woman.

  “Don’t hurt her,” said Tasha Strong, as the first voice I recognized.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine… Get off me,” I grunted, coughing through a scratchy throat.

  I stopped struggling. Kieran Greenfire released my legs and Siggy Blackeye released my arm. To the side, leaning across my stomach, was Daniel Doesn’t Die, though he was slower to release me. After a moment, I panted, and glanced around. I was lying on black, metallic stone, in the Tower of Rust, with five other Eastron looking down at me. It was too dark for me to make out individual expressions, but I imagined they were fucking confused.

  “Siggy, would you mind helping me up?” I asked, rocking forwards into a seated position.

  She grasped my wrist and hefted me to my feet. I smiled at her, fighting embarrassment. I took a few deep breaths and flexed my neck. I felt thin and empty. It would take time to accept who I was again, after being swamped by the she-wolf’s immense wyrd, but a sense of happiness was slowly returning.

  “I’m okay,” I said, softening my eyes. “And I’m sorry.”

  Tasha rushed forwards and clung to my arm. “You never need to apologize, Adeline.”

  I turned from my three companions and was face to face with Eva Rage Breaker. The leader of the Sundered Wolves had a black eye, but her face was no less peaceful than before. Her ability to dampen aggression was impressive, though it was currently not in effect. “You are a strange people,” I said, including Daniel in my assessment, “but you have my thanks. No spirits, gods or men hold dominion over me… and you reminded me of that.”

  Rage Breaker grasped her voluminous skirts, and curtsied. “You will lead all Wolves, Alpha Wolf… Those who sail, those who kneel, and those who are sundered. You will lead us away from spirits and towards a new future. I have been told this, and I believe it.”

  “By the phoenix?” I asked.

  “Oh, no,” she replied. “I have never spoken to the Great Phoenix, though I was wife to one who did… long ago. I do not talk to spirits at all, for I have seen what they do, whether they mean to or not.”

  “Really?” queried Tasha, still clinging to my arm. “Not all spirits, surely?”

  “To a greater or lesser degree,” offered Daniel. “They can’t help it, but they all influence us in small ways… sometimes big ways. Your Kingdom of the Four Claws was never meant to be like this. The Lords of the Quarter didn’t mean to change us, but they were too powerful, and their nature slowly became our nature. The Night Wing, the Dawn Claw, the Kindly One, even the Old Bitch of the Sea. Our wyrd lets us break the glass, but does nothing to help us comprehend the infinite void. Our reaction to the rising chaos is evidence of that.”

  Their words made sense. I’d never trusted spirits, not until I was forced to. I’d left such things to the Wisp, safe in the knowledge that the Sea Wolves’ totem was an honourable spirit. Having carried her for weeks, I now understood that her honour didn’t matter. For all our might, all our invading and conquering, the Eastron were just mortal men and women, thinking they could look into eternity, and that eternity wouldn’t look back. It wasn’t corruption or infection, nor was it malevolent. Perhaps the only true crime had been our arrogance.

  “The rising chaos,” I said. “You know of it? If we’re truly to be friends, you should tell me what you know.” I thought for a moment. “The First Whip… black dust.”

  His composure broke – only for a second, but a twitch appeared on the left side of his face, and a deep rumble came from his throat. He knew exactly what I was talking about, and his flickering eyes betrayed an internal debate, as if he was trying to put too much information into an understandable order.

  “You know that’s why we came here,” I said. “Allies against the Sunken God.”

  After a moment and a series of pained looks towards Eva Rage Breaker, Daniel sat cross-legged on the tower floor. “The First Whip,” he mused. “I don’t even know if the name’s accurate. The stories suggest it was certainly much bigger than the one you killed. The one that threw Lissa and me into the rocks. It slept beneath the sea, at the mouth of Vane’s Fork… perhaps an hour from the Hidden Claw.”

  “Is that why you left the hold?” asked Siggy Blackeye.

  He nodded. “When it woke up, a foolish old man tried to communicate with it. He had no idea what it was, but he’d pledged to respect the earth and all the wonders of this realm of form. To him, this was just another wonder.”

  “He tried to make friends with an ancient Sunken Man?” I asked.

  “Yes,�
� said Daniel. “He tried to mollify it, even as it started smashing buildings and swallowing entire families. His foolishness cost his people dearly. The Sundered Wolves had to flee their home and many thousands of lives were lost… until the man found a way to kill it.”

  Kieran, Siggy and I shared a profound look. “Now that is useful information,” said Kieran Greenfire. “Care to elaborate?”

  He put a hand on the floor, wiping his palm across the metallic black stone of the tower. “There’s a reason we settled here. The First Whip didn’t like the rock. It didn’t stop him, but it seriously slowed him down, as if he was crawling over a smouldering fire.” Daniel bowed his head. He’d regained his composure, but was clearly a reluctant storyteller.

  “Black dust,” I prompted.

  “That came later,” he replied. “At first the duellists just threw rocks at it. Chunks of whatever ore was lying around. They blinded it and burned holes in its body, keeping it at bay. Then quarries were dug and the rock was worked. I don’t know the name of the mineral in this rock, but it can be extracted and refined to a thick black dust.”

  “That does what?” I prompted.

  He smiled. “Explodes. Unfortunately, the vein doesn’t stretch far from this spit of land. Not much room for a hold… or we’d have a bigger population.”

  I offered him my hand, which he slowly took, allowing me to pull him to his feet. “I think we’ll need some of that dust,” I said. “But first… I could do with a drink.”

  *

  Captain Driftwood led twenty warriors from Halfdan’s Revenge. They marched down from the cliff-top, unsure what to expect, but ready for a fight. As they reached the low ground, before the Tower of Rust, they stopped and sheathed their blades. To the left of the tower was a low building of glassy, black stone. Its walls were open to the air, and under its canopy was an expansive hall of long tables and fixed chairs. The green masks had all retreated, and the most bizarre thing on display was Kieran Greenfire and I, slouched in stone chairs, swigging mugs of beer.