“No,” a deep but surprisingly feeble voice sounded behind me. I turned to see the massive serpentine form of the Tidefather writhing on the ground like a beached whale. Over half of his scales had disintegrated, leaving bloody flesh and torn muscle in their wake. Now that I could see more of his body, I could tell that he’d had four limbs at one point. He was down to one now, and it trembled as he tried to lift it. The next moment, a large icicle struck it, and the claw cracked and broke right off of the arm.
We need to be the one to finish this, Teeth told me.
Fuck you, I answered, but I drew Shard anyway and moved over to the monster’s head. My team made a compulsory attempt to add damage of their own to the massive body, but a moment later, even that proved unnecessary. The Tidefather was unable to even lift his head, no matter how hard he strained and panted.
“So long…” the dying dragon said tiredly. “So patient. Just to lose everything in the end.”
I wanted to give him a reply, tell him that he had made his own choice, that no one had forced him to invade my world and steal my people’s treasures and lives. I also wanted to point out that I had given him a chance to flee, to make amends and escape with his life. But it would have just been cruel. I had known he would reject my offer the moment I made it.
“Name,” I demanded, standing next to his massive face. His eye blinked at me. It was roughly the same size I was. “I know your title, the name of your species of Wyrm. Tidefather. But you couldn’t have been the only dragon to evolve this way and gain this title. Before I kill you, what name do you want to be remembered by?”
He panted for a moment without answering me. Right when I was about to give up and stab him anyway, he rumbled an answer through his cracked mouth.
“Orcantor… the name I had… before I chose… what I wanted...”
Before he chose his appetites, I realized. For whatever reason, he had thrown it aside when he became a Lesser Wyrm.
Now, it was the only thing he chose to claim.
“Thank you… for asking,” he breathed tiredly, accepting the end.
“You’re welcome. Die well, Orcantor,” I said, converting Shard into a long pike and stabbing it into the dragon’s eye. His exhausted vital guard gave way immediately as the eye instantly froze, then shattered, along with the brain behind it.
Orcantor gave one final shudder, and then went still for all eternity.
Whew, Teeth said, and I reflected on the fact that he had begun to talk more. That’s taken care of. We got to him in time.
Something hummed in my ears. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and through the mindlink, I knew I was the only one that could hear it.
Teeth, I said, as some of my thoughts got a little fuzzy. Are we trying to eat a Lesser Wyrm right now?
Duh, Teeth replied. That’s why I wanted you to land the final blow. Probably didn’t need to, with all the other damage you’ve done, but I wanted to be careful.
The humming became a vibrating sensation that traveled up my arms.
You just told me you were full, I replied patiently, proud of myself for not losing my temper. That you needed to rest before you could eat any more.
Well, yeah, he replied, but this is just too much power to pass up. We’ll be fine, as long as we take a nap.
I already take too many naps after fights! I snapped at him. How long would you even need?
No time at all, Teeth insisted, a thousand years max. But we’ll be asleep the whole time, so it’s no big deal.
The thrumming sensation began to travel up my neck.
Idiot, I said angrily. Everyone will be dead by then. Including Stell!
What? The new guy sounded startled. I… I didn’t think of that.
My chin tickled. My thoughts grew just a little fuzzier.
Can we stop this? I asked, Or have you just killed us all by putting me out of action for the remaining Tumults?
I, uh… the idiot trailed off.
This actually is a limit to my authority, I realized. Something I can’t hold onto if I grasp for it. And by reaching for it, the asinine side of my mind may have just doomed us all.
Still working on it, Teeth continued. I, uh… sorry, he said lamely. I thought we should grab all the power we could. Because we needed it.
The thrumming halted at my chin, but the fuzzy sensation remained in my head.
I wanted to yell at Teeth, but his last words tickled the fuzziness in my brain.
Power.
We did need it.
My fear had kept me from grasping more of it, worried about what I’d turn into.
Stell had encouraged me to trust myself with it.
But this… this was wrong.
Why, exactly though? If there was a way to channel another full dragon’s power, safely?
Safely. That was it.
If it destroys what we love, or prevents us from helping those we love, I said to Teeth, puzzling out the words in my mind, then it isn’t really power. It’s a trap… a lie…. a disability.
Teeth and I swore at the same time.
I… Teeth hesitated. It sounded like he was swallowing. I have to let it go then, don’t I?
We will literally lose everything, everyone, if we try to hold onto it, I gritted at him. If we wake up at all, we will wake up to a cold, dead world, where all of our family, all of our friends, every part of Stell, are gone forever.
The fuzzy sensation started to leave, but not completely.
I’m sorry, Teeth sobbed, the first time I had ever heard him do so. This isn’t fair… I thought this was what we were supposed to do.
The strange sensations in my body shifted again.
I realized then that there was some kind of hole in me, that Teeth had been trying to fill with this power. It hadn’t been fitting very well, but up until a few seconds ago, he had been trying to force it in anyway. He started to pull it back out, but then he hesitated.
Do we really have to let go of all of it? He asked me, like a child being told to put something back.
You said we were full earlier, I told him. Is there any piece of it that won’t put us into some kind of coma and make us lose everything else?
I… he started. No. No there isn’t.
Then it isn’t really power, I decided. It’s going to take far more than it ever gave to us. Just like it did to him, I said as I looked at Orcantor’s corpse.
My inner dragon let out another sob, pulled the substance out with his teeth, then spat it right out. I immediately felt better.
Except that now I was painfully aware of that emptiness inside of me.
Breena was asking if I was okay. I shook my head, and somehow, she understood. I felt her nudge my shoulder gently, then fly back away.
I turned to realize everyone else was looking at me. My team. The newly rescued Atlanteans.
My team nodded respectfully, and looked like they were trying to stand in some manner appropriate for my retinue. Breena and some of the other original members seemed like they were giving nudges and directions through the mindlink. The Atlanteans behind them all bowed in one movement. Then mist floated up from the now-sandy floor, and the familiar voice of the planet itself greeted me.
“The Nascent Lord has completed the Rite of Territory,” Avalon boomed out loud. “Right to Rule has increased, as the Lord has confronted false boundaries to his territory and overcome them, and gained a better understanding of his limits in the process.”
Thank God, I thought. Today had felt like even more nonsense than usual.
Please don’t step on my hand.
What? I asked, confused. What is your problem, Teeth?
That wasn’t me, Teeth replied. It was your voice, wasn’t it?
No, it wasn’t, I retorted. But we don’t have time to talk about it right now.
Hey, Teeth said suddenly. If you don’t find time later, won’t that cost us real power as well?
God damnit.
I’ll talk with Breena or someone,
after we wrap things up here, I replied. Right now, I’ve got to deal with the people who just made me their ruler.
A group of men and women in robes walked forward, solving the problem of protocol for me. I saw Markhen, the little boy from earlier, walking with them and clutching the robes of one of the women on the right. He was smiling excitedly at me, and he began bouncing impatiently.
“The Last Scholars of Atlantis greet their savior, the new Lord of Avalon, and recognize his completion of the Rite,” the man in front said with a bow. “We hereby pledge our allegiance. Our knowledge and artifacts are yours. We thank you for returning our bodies and sanity to us.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, looking around. I suddenly remembered that the last Rite had ended with the collapse of the ceiling over our heads. “I’d like for us to leave this location and return to the planet’s surface. Avalon, is it now possible to leave the location of the Rite? Before something else breaks?”
“Affirmative,” the planet replied. “Confirming that the opening to the Shelter’s surface is now operational. Current location of Rite will soon return to dormant state. Recommend full evacuation of any inhabitants and valuables over the next ten days.”
“Ten days?” I asked suspiciously. “You’re sure? Not ten minutes?”
“Affirmative.”
“Not ten seconds?”
“Affirmative.”
Guys, I sent over the mindlink. I don’t believe him. Let’s get everyone out of here immediately.
Probably best, anyway, Eadric replied casually. If we get moving now, he won’t pass out in front of everyone.
I deeply resented his efforts to continue a running joke.
A tunnel formed in the sand, leading upward. The Atlanteans asked us to lead the way, and assured us that they would make sure all of their people would make it through safely. When I asked if they would need help removing their library from the magic cold mountain, they just laughed, which then prompted me to wonder if they were truly okay. After all, these people had been locked away as prisoners and prey for untold ages.
“Of course we’re alright, silly,” little Markhen answered me. “We’re finally free, after being locked away for hundreds and hundreds of years. Maybe we’ll be sad later, when we learn how and what to grieve for. But today is a joyful day for us. And if we rejoice well today, it might aid the grieving we will do later.”
“Indeed,” the soldier I had met earlier said, as he picked the little boy up. “My little brother has learned well.”
“Your people teach grieving?” I asked, as my brain wrestled with myself.
“Why wouldn’t we?” the soldier asked curiously. “Is grieving less important than math, or writing, or learning the natural laws?”
“No,” I said, telling myself I wasn’t really shaken right now, just tired. “No, I don’t suppose it is. We’ll talk more later,” I said, turning around to leave through the tunnel.
Hey, Breena? I asked quietly, and privately through the mindlink.
Yes, Wes? She asked me cautiously. As if she could sense that something was wrong.
Are you guys sure I should be in charge? I asked bluntly. I’m the youngest person here, excluding my adopted sister, and I made the questionable call of bringing her along with us. I’ve gone through enough stuff to probably count as crazy now, even without all the visions and voices. And… I don’t even think I know how to grieve.
It was hard to admit that. Even though we had talked before. Even though she already knew.
Would I have to keep talking about this stuff? I asked myself.
Would I have to keep telling people how I feel? Even though I’ve already done it once or twice before?
Wes, Breena sent back carefully, you’re talking to part of a woman that is almost exactly the same emotional age as you are, and has arguably been through more trauma than you, depending on how you rank watching her family get eaten alive by an abuser that’s remained so obsessed with her, she can’t even tell what it is he wants to do to her. That same woman got put in charge of every nearby world, when she was an emotional age even younger than the boy that keeps talking to us, not because she was the poster definition of healthy, sane, or mature, but because she was literally the only person that could do what she was good at. No one else could construct portals between worlds. No one else could monitor Tumults and Trials directly, and predict when they were about to arrive. No one else could Call people from a world and make them into Challengers. She was a broken, grieving wreck of a little girl, but she also ensured the survival of at least six worlds for thousands of years, leaving them all in a much better position than they would have been without her. So excuse me, Wes, if I don’t have any patience for the teachings on your planet that say grieving, damaged people should be prevented from doing the things we need them to do, or that they’re just a half-step away from automatically descending into homicidal madness. I hate that idea, Wes. It’s a lie. It needs to die in a fire. At the end of the day, Wes, it’s what you can do, and what you have done, that makes you qualified to keep the position you have. It’s not about what you might do because of what people say about the condition you’re currently in, which is something you’ve constantly been ignoring all this time anyway.
I still don’t feel like I know enough to do all of this, Breena, I admitted quietly, checking again to make sure no one else could hear us through the mindlink. Somehow, the confession made me feel shameful, like I wasn’t supposed to be talking about all of this.
That doesn’t change anything I just told you, Wes, Breena replied patiently. However you feel about everything, the fact remains that you’ve solved a Tumult and Trial faster than any Challenger before you, as thoroughly as any of them before you, and in worse circumstances than any of them ever had to face. I’m not even going to get into the other stuff, except to mention that you’ve already battled Dark Icons, and worse. And as for becoming Lord of Avalon, there isn’t anyone else the planet will accept for the position, so we’re stuck with you. Which means it’s in our best interest to do everything we can to help you, instead of whatever we can to undermine your confidence in yourself. Let me try and use an Earth analogy here: say you’ve got a person who is sick, injured, and needs surgery. Do you have the really young second-year medical resident who has already performed two successful surgeries, despite being in circumstances he or she wasn’t supposed to be in, or do you go with the much older, supposedly well-adjusted person who has never practiced any kind of medicine at all, but has seen every one of those medicine dramas on that magic glowing box Stell always talked about?
Ah.
Since that’s the case, Wes, instead of pointing out all the ways you’re not perfect at this, we’re going to give you as much support as we can, to help you do the best job you can. Doing otherwise would be the word your own planet uses too much: crazy.
Sorry, I said, thoroughly chastened by her logic. You’re right. I won’t keep bringing it up.
No, Wes, Breena replied with a mental sigh. That won’t work, either. Bring it up as often as you need, with me and Guineve at least. You have an unfair job, and it’s normal for you to feel pressured and stressed. You having these doubts is perfectly normal, and anyone that tries to shame you over this is an obnoxious jerk.
Thank you, Breena, I replied gratefully. Really. I mean it.
With that, we entered the tunnel leading back into Avalon.
Our exit took us to the edge of a lake.
Specifically, the same lake Guineve had taken me to, the one with the island in the middle, where she had given me Breaker’s sheath.
Which was now apparently inside the Shelter’s territory, as I could still see the giant forest of Woadfathers in the distance.
Avalon, I privately asked the planet. Did you just rearrange the planetary surface again?
Affirmative, the planet replied. Per protocol, following the completion of another Rite.
Does the protocol say why that was necessar
y? I asked warily.
Data not found.
Okay, I replied, is this sort of thing going to happen every time I complete a Rite?
Data not found.
Breena, I sent next. I have a headache. I’m going to need a nap and the rest of those pizza-rations.
Great! She pumped her arms at that. Taking your naps without even being told! Awesome!
...Yes, I decided. Yes, it is. Just wake me if it looks like another ghost wants to talk to me.
I guess I can figure out if that’s happening! Sure!
When I reached my room, Guineve and Breena had already had warm food waiting for me. I finished an entire meal without any freaky notifications from my mindscreen, and for the first time in forever, I was able to close my eyes without any dead people suddenly trying to talk to me.
The next morning, the Atlanteans asked to speak with me.
There was to be a ceremony regarding the use of the Well. As Planetary Lord, I was to formally receive it as a gift on behalf of the other worlds. Before they came to Avalon, the Atlanteans had guarded the Well, making it perhaps the one thing they had not freely shared with the other races. It had been the most precious treasure of their world, one they had been unsure could even be used by the other races, and they knew that it would be coveted by others such as the Council, who would deem the item too dangerous to rest in indigenous hands, even if the Council could not use it themselves.
So, when the Well had not been in use, it was hidden on Atlantis, in several guarded locations, so that it could never be stolen completely. The knowledge of its existence was shared only with the Atlanteans’ Solar High King, the Planetary Lord of Avalon. When the Flood first came, he could only recover the treasure from the one location that could be reached in time, before the rest of the priceless liquid was lost for good. The High King commanded that the Atlanteans continue to guard the secret of the mind-healing water until the rest of the Expanse was either free of Tumult-causing monsters, or was ruled by beings with wiser appetites.
Lighting Distant Shores (Challenger's Call Book 4) Page 28
