by Ember Lane
Sutech pushed past Mezzerain. He skipped along a narrow pathway and into the cave’s maw.
“This way!” he screamed, looking back, his angular face filled with urgency. Younger? Perhaps. Decisive? Certainly.
Pog pulled me forward, the rocks treacherous, blistered, pocked. My foot slipped, the lapping sea boiling with rage. I reached out, clinging to a timber beam, so out of place, but then I saw more—a mast, rotten, snapped in two, wood planks—the remnants of a boat. Faulk pushed me along, the small path leading to a golden fissure, a color I recognized from a long time ago.
“It’s a gilden lode!” I screamed, now forcing my way into the gaping crack, seeing Sutech standing before a huge door, its edges lined with glowing gold.
“Gilden lode?” Mezzerain cried.
“Just get us through the door!” I barked back. Faulk barged me out of the way, Pog soon at his side, both kneeling.
A shattering crack from behind us, a groan, and then a rumble laced with blatant threat.
“The cave,” Mezzerain cried. “It’s going to collapse.”
“We’re going as fast as we can,” Faulk growled back as the ground below us heaved, shook, rocks raining down as the last of the outside light was extinguished.
“Get me a light!” Faulk growled through clenched teeth.
I conjured a glowsphere, shoving it over to them.
Faulk worked furiously, Pog holding his tool bag open.
“Hurry up.” Sutech’s voice shook with fear, his eyes wide, his terror impossible to conceal. Mezzerain held back as if his giant frame could shelter me from all.
Faulk sent Charm daggers, immediately returning to his work, picking up a tool, discarding it, rifling for another.
A huge explosion rang out, the ground heaving and rock splitting.
“Got it!” Faulk cried as the door inched open.
“It’s stuck!” Pog cried.
“Twisted—the frame’s moved. Out of the way!” Mezzerain coiled back, pushing me to one side, shoving the door with all his might. Sutech joined in, Faulk too.
“All of you,” the trapmaster cried, and we each found purchase and pushed as one.
It groaned under our weight, shifting precious inches. Pog slid around. Mezzerain braced, his neck muscles rippling, his grin one of pain. Another few inches, Mezzerain made some primeval noise, ending in a scream, and the door caved, and we all spilled through, tumbling onto a brown path that spiraled down, chocolate walls lining it, with luminous, golden veins running through its strata.
We raced down, away from the destruction, tearing around the every widening spiral, the very familiar spiral.
“What is this place?” Mezzerain cried as he caught up with us.
“Valkyrie’s gilden lode,” I screamed back as we flew down the curling way. I ran and ran, following the familiarity, knowing what lay at its end. The alley became shallow, spilling us out onto a small crescent of white sand, the luminous Ending’s River tapering away, chocolate rock rising, punctured by alcoves containing slabs and by golden veins of power: the cavern identical to Mandrake’s in every way.
My knees gave way. I fell to the white sand, understanding crashing down on me. “He’s trying to destroy Valkyrie.”
“Who?” Mezzerain asked, but his expression told me he knew. They all looked defeated. I was defeated. All we’d achieved had been undone with one turn of Belved’s evil eye.
Another shattering crack, scree falling behind us in a never-ending avalanche. It filled the spiral, cascading down and grinding to a measured halt. We were cut off, but I doubted anything was left for us anyhow. Marooned on the tiny beach, we all glared around like cornered rats. Sutech tried scaling the chocolate walls, tried grabbing on its thin ledges.
“It’s too—”he rubbed his fingers on his thumb—“soapy. I can’t get any purchase.”
Mezzerain waded into the water, up to his neck in ten yards. He tried to swim away but made no progress.
Pog sat on the sand. Faulk sat with him. I stared at them, glared. I wanted to grouse at someone, something, anything. “Is that it? We give up?”
Pog shook his head, craning his neck, looking all around. “Don’t you get it?”
“What?”
He smiled. It was a smile I’d seen so many times before.
“You’re happy about this?” My exasperation bled through.
He shrugged. “We let ourselves get manipulated. He herded us here. Now we just have to wait.”
“For what?” It was my turn to ask the dumb questions. “You know he’s destroying Valkyrie, right?”
Silence fell. Silence I would have killed for five minutes before. Now it scared the crap out of me. Now I crouched, chewing my nails, the Endings River in front of me. I felt like a coiled cobra, just itching to strike. Fighting, anything, was better than this.
“So what happens now?” Mezzerain asked.
Pog glared at him as if to say “Wait!” As if no one got it all, barring him..
“What?” The big man scowled. “We aren’t all like you. We can’t all just— I was just talking, asking. It ain’t a crime to speak.”
Pog grinned as Mezzerain struggled to explain himself. Then he shrugged.
“Ask Alexa. She’s been down here more than all of us.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Then it dawned on me. I did know. I had gone through this.
“Billy comes. Billy Long Thumb comes next.”
As I said it, the most god-awful noise rang out. Most god awful, but it filled my heart with joy and a measure of hope. Singing, wailing, screaming, a ruination of harmony that only one person in Barakdor could achieve, and as I knew it would, a long, wooden bow peeked from behind a rocky column, then the rest of the rowboat slowly emerged, its oars dipping in and out of the still water completely out of time to his strangled song. Billy lay back in the stern, his familiar cigar in his mouth, his feather dangling from his ear, gliding on the water like chauffeured, skeletal royalty.
“There,” said Pog, standing. “A little patience is all that’s needed.”
I think the general consensus was that he was too young to punch, but it was a close call.
Billy beached the boat, and wasting no time, asked, “Alexa? Are you here to judge?”
A muffled rumble sounded as he spoke, accentuating the drama of his question.
“No,” I told him. “I promised someone special I would only judge you when she was present.”
“Someone special?” He leaned forward, plucking his cigar from his gaping tombstone teeth and holding it between one of his bony fingers and incredibly long thumb. Despite everything, his presence alone made me grin, but I think he mistook it as humor. If possible, he narrowed his eye sockets, inspecting my intentions. “What have you done?” he grumbled.
“Whatever’s happening out there better stop. I can only judge you when Charlotte’s present, and she’s bound to Valkyrie, and so is our final meet.”
His skull blanched. “You did what? Charlotte? Here?”
A thunderous tremor cracked across the cavern. I ducked instinctively as did we all. Then another dread noise, like the roof above us was unzipping, and a black maw ripped through the rock, half as far as I could see, strafing us with a shower of stone and scree.
I cupped my hands, screaming over the reverberation. “I invited Charlotte to your judging, so that you can be together forever.”
Billy brushed the dust from his bones, composing, and I waited for his tirade, but he drew back as if my mention of Charlotte had changed his mind.
“Get in,” he growled, grabbing the oars and taking a seat in its middle. “Get in, all of you, before it’s too late!”
We jumped in, one after the other, all settling where there was a space—all apart from me. I sat opposite Billy Long Thumb, a grim set to his face, and he began pumping the oars for all he was worth. I wanted to know what he was up to this time. Another deafening explosion saw the beach vanish in a cloud of chocolate dust. It saw us
all duck down, our hands over our heads.
Then we all made the mistake of looking up.
The boat scythed through the luminous water, carving a V away from the devastation. Slices of rock fell, sloughed from the catacomb’s side, sliding in, tombs, slabs, corpses, and all, throwing up waves that powered us along, threatening to toss us like matchwood against the cavern. Billy fought the current, his bones straining, joints creaking, smoke rising through his ribs.
Like the first time, Billy navigated a seemingly random route, eventually closing on another small beach. More explosions sounded out, like cluster bombs were being dropped behind us. An unholy roar followed, and panic crossed Billy’s skull.
“Run!” he screamed, hurdling out of the beaching boat and darting up the brief sandy crescent.
Not one of us hesitated, all following him. Mezzerain overtook Pog, picking him up by the scruff of the neck, tossing him from the boat. Pog looked back, scowling.
“I’m faster than you, old man!”
Mezzerain jumped the gunwales. “Not so old now!”
We left the beach in our wake, entering a fissure and following a stony stream. Billy raced along, not even glancing back. Faulk pushed past me, darting after Pog. The stream suddenly deepened, and I made the fatal mistake of looking back. A wall of white water raced toward me, roiling, boiling. I pumped my legs as fast as they’d go, screaming for all to speed up, but my cry was lost to the unholy roar.
Ahead, the fissure narrowed, and I knew that spelled trouble. Billy vanished, Pog and Faulk too. Mezzerain ducked low, Sutech right on his tail. The wall of water punched me in the back, hurling me forward and straight toward Sutech, then swallowing me, engulfing me, rolling me round and round like a speck of debris. I slammed into rock, got tossed from side to side, ricocheting from wall to roof, roof to stream bed.
Then it dumped me, discarded me, as its power suddenly faded, leaving me spinning and sinking in a swirl of effervescence, my head pounding, but my eyes open in wonder and amazed I was still alive. Bursting to the bright surface, my lungs screaming for breath. I reached up, surging out, and gasping in dead air, the ebb and flow of trapped swell all around me. I was neck deep in a luminous lake, a savior lake. Anything else, and it would have been over.
“Alexa!” Pog cried, drawing my gaze. I trod water, spying him, Faulk, Billy, and Mezzerain clinging to a ledge—Sutech already swimming toward them. Pog urged me over as Billy edged along the narrow shelf, vanishing once more.
I swam toward them, soon at the edge of the underwater lake, pulling myself out, refusing Sutech’s hand. “Get after them. I’m fine.”
“I don’t trust him,” Sutech said, his teeth gritted, clearly talking about Billy.
“Don’t,” I said, pulling myself out and then grabbing him, spinning him around to face me. “Watch him for me. For some reason or another, I’m easy meat for him.”
“Easy meat?”
“I find him hard to hate. We have history.”
Sutech’s look couldn’t have lasted more than a split second, but his understanding was complete. He grabbed my hand, pulling me into darkness. I conjured a glowsphere, just a tiny one, and sent it ahead of him. We ran after the others, deeper into the bowels of the earth, the explosions becoming fainter and fainter.
After a while, we caught up to Mezzerain and the others as they climbed a set of steps. We emerged onto a smooth, stone platform, a vast chimney above us, like we were standing on the base of an oven looking up at its flue.
“There’s no turning back if you choose this route.” Billy put his hands on his hips and slouched to one side.
“Do we have a choice?” I asked.
“Always.”
Sutech barged in front of me, taking charge. “Where does it lead?”
“Up,” Billy said. “To where these two want to go. Thing is, by choosing to go there now, you’re taking a mighty risk.”
“Why?” Sutech stood his ground.
Billy craned his skull around Sutech, addressing me. “Who is he?”
Sutech grabbed him by his neck vertebrae. “I am asking you a question.”
Smoke billowed from Billy’s lungs. He coughed. “All right, no need to be like that. Answer me a question. What’s left in Valkyrie that makes it worth saving?”
And then it dawned on me. Belved had lured us out of Valkyrie. He’d forced our hand. We’d taken all that was valuable to him and brought it to Billy.
“Do you still work for Belved?” I asked him.
Billy shrugged off Sutech’s hand, rubbing his ownneck. “I’m a pirate. I work for coin. Belved’s gold is as good as any.”
Mezzerain reared up, murder in his eyes, but Sutech pulled him back. “Leave him be. At least we know the measure of the man. He is no friend.”
Billy tugged at a spot on the chimney, and a raft of D rings appeared, climbing up into the distance.
“Like I said, if you’re coming, there’s no going back. If you want to save Valkyrie, though…”
Billy began climbing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Billy’s Island
Pog scrambled after him, ever eager to get on with the game. I sent up my glowsphere, letting it hover above his head. It left Billy to climb in darkness. I had issues with him and his loyalties—if that word and Billy could be used in the same sentence. Faulk stuck to his little friend, scrambling up straight after Pog. Sutech insisted I go next, him after, with Mezzerain taking the rear.
The chimney’s surface had an orange gleam, its walls incredibly smooth, like pottery. In fact, my initial observation that this was some form of stove was uncannily close. I wondered if it could possible exit onto Ruse itself and cut out our journey there but decided that was unlikely. We’d traveled a similar distance to my first Ending’s adventure, and I knew that had taken us from Shyantium to Greman’s little back garden, so hardly Valkyrie to Ruse. In fact, given our ship theory, I couldn’t even see the Endings connecting the individual lands together. That thought was defunct; it just didn’t work for me anymore. But I had to accept that Billy had access to them all, and that fact niggled me.
Little made sense once more. We were still missing pieces of the puzzle.
We climbed and climbed, the air devoid of oxygen, what little there was sucked up from below. I couldn’t quite figure out Billy’s words. What did he mean by there being nothing left in Valkyrie? There was Taric, wasn’t there? The stones Sutech, Pog, and Mezzerain carried were useless without the others, and I had my veil to discharge. If anything, Belved should be trying to avoid me. I scoffed at that thought. How was I supposed to kill a god? My magic was good. I was more powerful than ever, but a god—seriously?
I still glared at Billy as he climbed, though if anything, he’d made things easier for us.
Why destroy Valkyrie? That thought then consumed me. Was it all about eliminating each ship/land to become the only one left? But that couldn’t be, each settler ship had something the new world needed in order for it to thrive. Each contributed. Trappas Shyl had its menageries. Cendrullia carried infinite botanical wonders. Variant once had the machines that could terraform vast swathes of land. All had population. All contributed, so why destroy them?
Or was it aimed solely at Taric? The god was whole now, not split in two. Perhaps Shylan/Poleyna’s intervention at the Castle of Kyrie had saved Valkyrie from initial destruction. Maybe by making him whole, we’d then sealed its fate. Was Belved’s attack to finally eliminate his brother? That made more sense. Get the stones away, even me, so I could attempt to fulfill my destiny and then eradicate the third piece of the ornate tin.
Was it a battle of the AIs?
Was Belved that good?
Had he manipulated our whole journey through Valkyrie?
At the moment, though, that whole thought, as circular as the chimney we were in, revolved back to one person.
Billy—did I believe him?
And then I laughed. Was Billy Elisha? Was Billy caught between hi
s Dragnor and Rakesh? Was it as simple as that? To understand Billy Long Thumb’s motives, you had to understand hers. He was driven by greed. He was driven by passion. Billy was a paradox. He had no roots, no ties, no sense of duty. If we were to use him, he had to fall in love with us. Only then would he become the powerful ally we needed.
We had to do a Sutech Charm on him. It was that simple.
Billy was Elisha, and as I climbed the strange chimney, that thought lightened my load.
I thanked God I’d made the right choice in enlisting Sutech’s aid. If I’d learned anything about the Lowland prince, it was that he observed. He didn’t always say so much, but he watched like a hawk—hardly surprising that his features had sharpened that way. I decided not to think about Billy. Like I’d told Sutech, I was a poor judge when it came to him. I’d always remember him taking the beating for me as Greman winched me to safety. I’d always remember him as the first I’d met. A soft spot—that was what it was.
While I was lost in my muse, Billy vanished over the lip of the chimney, Pog soon following. I waited as Faulk hauled himself over. Waving away the trapmaster’s offer of help, I grasped the chimney’s lip and pulled myself up. Above us, the sky was a deep-blue sheet of twinkling stars, cloudless, and a welcome chill hung on the air. I heaved myself out and dropped onto smooth, black rock, shuffling away, finding a perch. The starlight caught Billy’s skeleton, lighting him up like the ghoul he was.
“Welcome to my little island,” he declared with a sweep of his hand. “Don’t make yourself too comfortable as there’s nothing comfortable about it. Just a rock and a bit of jungle, a deserted rock mind, but exactly what I need to come and go.” He scowled at me. “Get rid of that glowsphere. If you’ve got night vision, use that. Too many prying eyes now that everyone’s awake—my island, my secret. I have a nice and private ship moored just over the ridge, and I mean to keep it secret too.”
“We had a ship,” Sutech pointed out from the chimney’s rim. “We didn’t need you to lure us here.”
“Do your talking once you’re out of this damn tube.” Mezzerain’s voice echoed from below, and Sutech spilled out like he might have gotten a helping hand from the big man. Mezzerain then inched himself out, like a cork from a bottle. “It’s all right for the rest of you, but that was a bit of a squeeze for me.”
