by Shae Ford
He cried out as the heat gnawed at him, but forced himself to concentrate. He braced the shield with his other arm and shoved back as hard as he could. Gilderick only moved a step, but that was all Kael needed. He rolled away from the shelves and dove for his sword.
No sooner did he grab the hilt than Gilderick was upon him. Kael had to roll madly as the axe came down. It sparked against the stone floors — where his neck had been only seconds before. He swung blindly for Gilderick’s chest and felt the sword tremble when it glanced off his blackened armor.
Kael leapt to his feet. He knew Gilderick was much stronger, but his heavy armor would make him slow. So Kael decided to take a trick out of Noah’s book.
He swung for Gilderick in mind-boggling patterns, striking him wherever he could. Not all of his blows landed true — in fact, Gilderick was able to block most of them. But Kael was still hoping to tire him out.
One opening was all he needed. If he could get Gilderick to let his guard down, Kael could deal the ending blow. All he had to do was be patient.
He swung for Gilderick’s neck, spinning before the axe could block him, and then cut down for his knees. The sword struck the armor hard, jarring his arm again. But Gilderick’s knee buckled under the blow — and Kael saw his chance.
With a cry, he swung for Gilderick’s neck. He was shocked when the sword hit his breastplate, instead — so shocked, that he lost his grip. His weapon went sailing to the other side of the room, and the blunt end of the axe knocked him onto his back.
Somehow, Gilderick had grown taller. Now he stood at a giant’s height, towering head and shoulders above Kael. His massive foot crunched down into the middle of Kael’s chest, pinning him to the floor. He tried to beat Gilderick’s boot off of him with his shield, only to have it ripped from his arm and flung after the sword. The axe blade pressed against his throat in warning.
Gilderick raised the guard from his helmet. Beads of sweat dotted the pasty skin around his nose and forehead. “I’m a bit disappointed. I expected a Wright to be more of a challenge, but … ah, well,” he tilted the axe against Kael’s chin, “let’s just finish this cleanly. Your last words, if you please? I collect them,” Gilderick explained, tapping the side of his head. “So try to make them worth remembering.”
Kael had no intention of giving his last words. He pried his fingers beneath Gilderick’s boot, trying to force it off his chest. But the weight only came down harder.
“Take your time,” Gilderick said, smiling at him. Then he laughed, and his eyes went to the far wall. “It’s odd to use the word time in a place where time does not exist. You’ll never get out,” he added, when Kael tried punching the side of his leg. “So you might as well speak. What words would you have me remember you by, hmm? What can you add to my little collection?”
Kael suddenly realized that it was hopeless. He let his head fall back and heard it thump hollowly against the ground. It was starting to sink in, now: he was going to be trapped here forever — doomed to follow Gilderick around as an empty husk. Would his friends miss him? Would they forget about him? And would Kyleigh …?
He couldn’t even bear to finish the thought. He knew he would never see her again.
The windows groaned as he thought of her, and he watched them dully. Wet lines trickled out from the mortar, running down the sills. He listened to the soft tinkling of the water that dripped onto the cold stone floor.
Perhaps Gilderick was right. Perhaps that was his fear out there, waiting to swallow him up. He imagined that it pressed against the sealed windows, that it growled as it tried to claw its way through.
The thing he feared most was the thought of losing Kyleigh. He could’ve faced anything, even death, as long as she was by his side …
A mad thought suddenly hit him — so mad that it made the tips of his fingers go cold. But it was almost mad enough to work … if Kael could force himself to do it. As the walls groaned again, Morris’s words filled his head:
Fear can’t kill you.
He said this to himself, over and over again — and after a moment, he found the courage to speak: “All right, I’ll give you my last words.”
“Excellent,” Gilderick murmured. “Be sure to speak clearly.”
Kael nodded, steeling himself for the mad thing he was about to do. “I love someone,” he blurted out. The walls groaned again and the ground trembled slightly, but the windows held firm. Kael knew he would have to dig deeper. “I’ve loved her for a long while, but I knew she couldn’t love me back. And I was afraid …”
A few pebbles broke from the windows and clattered onto the floor. Water began to leak from the holes in a steady stream. Ice settled in the pit of Kael’s stomach. Fear can’t kill you, he reminded himself. Fear can’t kill you.
“I was afraid that if I told her how I felt, she would fly across the seas to the Westlands — like Quicklegs did to Iden. I thought I would die of a broken heart, if she ever left me. So I tried to hide my feelings … but she left me anyways.”
More bits of stone struck the floor; the mortar groaned and bowed out, straining like the buttons on a fat man’s shirt. But the seals held.
Kael took a deep breath. “I thought she’d figured out that I loved her — I thought she’d left for good. And for a while, I felt dead. But now she’s come back … and I’m afraid that I may have seen her for the last time. I’m terrified that I’ll never see her again, that I’ll never be able to tell her the truth.” A deep rumbling shook the chamber for a moment. It passed behind the windows and sent them bowing out — but it wasn’t enough to break them. Kael had to say more. “I love her. No — that’s not entirely true: I’m in love with her.”
He heard the monster groaning behind the windows, pressing them, straining them, but it still wasn’t enough. What else could he possibly say?
Gilderick watched in interest. His eyes followed the trail of the water as it leaked from the windows and down the shelves. “In love with whom?” he murmured.
Kael nearly laughed.
That was it. That was what he had to say. As long as he never said her name, it wouldn’t be real. He could keep his heart safe and protected behind these walls, locked away where his feelings could never hurt him. But if he wanted to beat Gilderick, he had to face his fears. He had to admit it out loud — once and for all.
“I’m in love with her,” he whispered, after a long, quiet breath. “I’m in love with Kyleigh.”
That did it.
Stone burst from the windows, and icy water poured in. It fell in torrents down the shelves, swallowing the floor in a matter of seconds. Kael shut his eyes as the water climbed over his head. He felt Gilderick’s boot leave his chest; heard the muffled tromping of his steps as he tried to escape the flood.
Kael held his breath. Fear can’t kill you. Fear can’t kill you, he said, as his breath began to run out. Fear can’t kill you!
Finally, he could hold it no longer. Air burst from his lungs, and he gasped. He expected the icy water to come rushing down his throat … but it never did. When he opened his eyes, he saw the chamber was completely filled to the brim.
It looked as if he stood at the bottom of the sea, with blues and greens swirling all around him. But the water didn’t crush him. He breathed it in as easily as he might’ve breathed the air. His limbs moved freely as he dragged himself from the ground.
So Morris had been right, then: his fear couldn’t kill him.
But it could certainly kill Gilderick.
A few steps away, the Lord of the plains hung trapped in the water. Bubbles streamed out between his pasty lips. Though his limbs clawed helplessly for the surface, the weight of his thick armor held him to the ground. His eyes widened in terror when he saw Kael walking towards him.
The world began to wave as Gilderick panicked — and Kael’s mind spat them out.
Chapter 46
Braver
Blurry figures swooped by his head. Kael could feel the rush of wind as they pass
ed. Muffled cries filled his ears — thumping as they tried to push through. He shoved the fog away and forced the blurriness from his eyes.
Strong arms wrapped about his middle, carrying him so swiftly that he thought he might be flying.
“Kael!”
His head touched the ground, gently, and then Kyleigh’s blazing eyes struck his. Though she glared, her mouth was parted in worry. He felt a dull heat rise in his stomach as she grabbed either side of his face.
“Kael — talk to me! Are you hurt?”
His scalp tingled madly when her fingers ran through his hair. He reached up and managed to grab her wrist. “I’m fine,” he whispered. His throat felt raw, as if he’d been screaming for hours on end. He turned towards the blackened throne. “Gilderick …”
But he realized there was no point in trying to explain what had happened. The giants were now crowded around Gilderick’s throne, a wall of filthy bodies hid him from view. Kael allowed himself a smirk.
Good. Brend would take care of Gilderick — he’d give the Lord of the plains exactly what he deserved.
Kael lay back and let his neck rest against the floor, feeling relieved. A few seconds later, the crowd broke from around the throne. One of the giants spun away, pointed his chin towards the door — and that’s when Kael got a good look at his eyes.
They were a dead, milky white. His mouth hung slack and drool trailed from his lips. He carried something against his chest. Boney limbs hung out from the cradle of his thick arms, and Kael swore he saw a mop of greasy hair sprouting near the Fallow’s elbow.
But it wasn’t until he charged by that Kael knew for certain. As the Fallow ducked under the arch of the doorway, his arms bent open — and Lord Gilderick peered out from between them.
He gave Kael one tiny smirk, one final taunt, and then he was gone. The Fallows crowded out the door, their filthy feet slapped against the hallway as they ran for the courtyard.
Kael tried to shout, but his throat was still too raw. He raised one arm frantically in Gilderick’s direction, but Kyleigh didn’t look. Her eyes were still on his. She kept asking him if he was all right, demanding that he speak — and behind her, Gilderick was getting away.
It was stubborn will that finally broke the seal across Kael’s throat: “Stop them — they’ve got Lord Gilderick! He’s getting away!”
He struggled to crawl out from under Kyleigh, but she held him back, staring at him like he’d just cracked his skull. “What are you —? Quit flailing! You’re going to hurt yourself.” But Kael didn’t give up, and she finally pulled him to his feet. He took a few stumbling steps before his legs gave out. She caught him under the arms and propped him up against her. “What happened to you? Are you all right —?”
“No, I’m blasted not all right!” Kael snapped. He watched the last of the Fallows escaped through the door, and it took every ounce of his self-control to keep from breaking his fist against the wall.
At last, Kyleigh seemed to figure it out. Her eyes swept across the empty throne before they flicked back to the doorway. She loosened her grip for half a moment, as if she was about to charge after Gilderick — but in the end, she seemed to decide against it. Her arms tightened about his middle.
“We’ll gut him another day,” she promised. “The plains are free, now — and that’s the most important thing. Gilderick can rot.”
Kael shook his head. “You don’t understand … he knows everything.”
“Everything about what?”
He told her quickly about what had happened to him, about the battle he’d had with Gilderick — though he didn’t tell her exactly how he’d managed to win. And when he was finished, she raised her brows.
“Blazes,” she whispered. “Gilderick’s a whisperer?” At first, she looked as if she didn’t quite believe it. But as her eyes roved around the room, they hardened. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. Though I don’t see how he’s managed to keep it a secret.” She slung Kael’s arm about her shoulder and led him down the hall, shaking her head as she went. “The good news is that I don’t think Gilderick will risk going back to Crevan — not after what’s happened here. His power is gone, his days as a ruler are finished. If he shows his greasy head again, Crevan won’t hesitate to kill him. No, he’ll have no choice but to wither away in some dark corner of the Kingdom, alone and beaten.”
Kyleigh smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back.
Sure, that was the most plausible thing: it would make sense for Gilderick to hide, rather than face the wrath of the King. But then again, Gilderick never did what was plausible. He might be heading straight to Midlan.
And how far would the King go to capture him, once he found out there was a Wright attacking his rulers? Kael’s friends wouldn’t be safe around him. He would have to leave for good, if Midlan ever discovered him.
Kyleigh seemed to be able to hear the dark thoughts swirling through his head. She squeezed his arm, and her touch pulled him free. “One thing at a time,” she said with a smile. “Now, let’s go retrieve our favorite pirates.”
They found Lysander and Thelred locked up inside one of the castle chambers. The stump of Thelred’s leg wasn’t bleeding, but it was obvious by how white his face was that he was in a considerable amount of pain. He was madder than Kael had ever seen him — though he seemed to brighten up a bit when he learned that Finks was dead.
“Good. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to do it.” He held his hands out to Lysander. “Let’s get out of here, Captain. I’m ready to go home.”
Lysander looked relieved as he grinned. “Aye, aye, Cousin Red!” Then he pulled Thelred up and led him gingerly to the door.
The numbness had begun to fade from Kael’s legs, so he told Kyleigh to lend a hand with Thelred. He walked in front of them, scanning the passageways for any sign of their enemies. But the castle looked completely empty. The Fallows hadn’t seemed interested in reclaiming the fortress — only in carrying Gilderick to safety.
When they made it out to the courtyard, they saw that the battle wasn’t quite over, yet. A ring of giants blocked them in, circling the two fighters still locked in the middle. Jake met them on the edge of the ring. The little people from the desert trotted along at his heels.
“The ladies have herbs and bandages waiting at the barns,” Jake said, his gaze flicking down to Thelred’s leg. He glanced at the packed courtyard before waving the pirates back into the castle. “Follow me, I’ll take you through the kitchen tower. It’s perfectly safe: the witch was already dead when we arrived. We found her bones boiling inside a giant cooking pot.” He made a face. “Apparently, Gilderick got to her first. We’d checked the tower for survivors and were on our way out when a whole mob of giants shoved past us,” he said, gesturing down to the little people. “We nearly got ourselves trampled, didn’t we? I can’t imagine why they were in such a rush.”
Kael had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out in frustration. The Fallows were gone, then. They’d managed to slip out through the kitchen tower — and because they were dressed like the other slaves, Jake had let them pass. There was no telling where they were headed, and Kael knew he couldn’t catch them.
He watched as Lysander and Thelred limped away. Jake led them into the tower, and the little people guarded their backs with silver spears.
There was no point in brooding over Gilderick. He supposed Kyleigh was right: they’d have to gut him another day. Kael shoved his worry to the back of his mind and instead, tried to see what was going on inside the giants’ ring.
As he ventured closer, one of the giants caught sight of him. When he snatched Kael by the back of the shirt, he knew what was coming. So he grabbed Kyleigh by the hand and held onto her tightly as the giant hauled them to the front of the circle.
In the middle of the wall of bodies, Declan and Dred still fought. Things looked to be going very poorly for Dred: he had a deep cut on his arm and large chunks of his breastplate were simply missing. He slid backwards on his
rump, dragging his pike along behind him, and kept his wounded arm raised protectively over his face.
“Please,” he gasped. Sharp, white fear ringed the stony gray of his eyes. The bunched muscles in his arm trembled as he tried to drag himself away from Declan. “Please — I’m your kin! Don’t you remember your own brother?”
Declan raised his scythe over his head, as if he meant to drive it straight through Dred’s heart — and then, he paused. The wild black sunk out of his eyes, drawn back into his pupils. He looked at Dred calmly; his gaze climbed over the depth of his horrible scar.
“Yeh,” Declan said after a moment. “I remember my brother: his name was Dante. And you murdered him.”
Before Dred even had a chance to cry out, Declan’s scythe came down.
Kael looked away as Dred squirmed. Only after his body went still did he dare to look back. Declan pulled the scythe from the hole in Dred’s massive chest and flung it to the ground, a look of disgust on his face. Then his head turned around the giants’ circle.
When he saw the many gazes pointed in his direction, his eyes tightened and fell. He ripped the bloodied shirt off his chest and flung it after the scythe. As he marched for the castle gates, the giants parted to let him through.
Kyleigh touched his arm, and Kael realized that he’d been squeezing her fingers very tightly. He hadn’t even noticed that he still held her hand.
He dropped it immediately. “Come on,” he said, walking towards the maze. “I ought to go help with the healing.”
They only made it a few steps in before one of the little people from the desert hopped into their path. Her name was Nadine, and her accent was so thick that Kael had a difficult time understanding everything she said. But from what he could gather, she’d seen the Fallows heading south, through the Spine and towards the desert.
“We tried to stop them, but our legs were not long enough. A few fell to our spears,” she added with a rueful smile.
