Барб Хенди - Of Truth and Beasts

There was a wet, grating sound, like steel across stone—or bone—but the stonewalker didn’t fall. He reeled back, his mouth gaping as he choked. Blood began seeping between his teeth and over his lower lip.

Wynn heard Deep-Root’s dagger clatter on stone as he looked in horror at what he’d done. More footfalls and shouts echoed through the caves, growing louder and closer. Deep-Root raced across the cave and into a wall.

There had been no choice in what he’d done, and Wynn knew this. But in the darkness of stone, her own shame began to grow. She realized what he was about to do.

Deep-Root leaped out of stone into the dragon’s deep cave. Mute whimpers escaped his mouth with each sobbing breath.

Wynn heard the echoes of pursuit rolling in from the tunnels above this place. When Deep-Root raised his sagging head, for a moment all she saw was a watery blur through his eyes, until he dragged the back of his hand across his face.

The dragon stood waiting in the middle of the viscous pool. It hung its head, its breath weak, but it gave Deep-Root not a moment’s rest.

Strike below my last rib, upward into my chest, as if toward a heart. But only when I have begun my last flame and swallowed it down. Only then ... only upon my command.

Deep-Root raised the stone-covered object in his hand.

So much of its mineral crust had broken away that Wynn saw parts of a long, thick blade. He grabbed the lumpy hilt, breaking away the remains of calcified fingers. With one hesitant glance up the sloping passage, he gripped the cleared hilt and slammed the crusted blade against the cave’s wall. He beat it again and again until the sword’s blade was nearly clear.

Every ringing blow sharpened Wynn’s panic. It would be heard everywhere in these tunnels.

A shout erupted just before a splash.

Deep-Root turned wildly. Another of his brethren splashed toward him through the pool, and then came a slap upon stone that hummed through his bones. Up the sloping tunnel, another stonewalker had her hand firmly against the tunnel’s rough wall. The sound of a blunt impact and rapid splashing pulled Deep-Root’s attention the other way.

The dragon’s head slammed against the wall as it staggered sideways in the pool. A stonewalker whipped an iron staff back for another strike.

Deep-Root splashed toward the dragon, but the beast suddenly righted itself.

Its head whipped around, its maw widening, and then it dipped its head and its mouth snapped shut with a crack. Half of its assailant vanished amid torn bowels. Spatters of blood rained down on Deep-Root.

Wynn suddenly shrieked, though it was Deep-Root’s voice that cut loose. He arched away from a deep pain in his back so sharp that everything dimmed before Wynn.

When her sight cleared, she saw that he’d turned, knocking aside someone’s arm. Yet the pain only increased as he chopped down with the sword. The blade cleaved through a young stonewalker’s skull, and Wynn saw the dwarf’s face split open.

Deep-Root groped at his lower back, and Wynn felt the protruding hilt that he grabbed.

Now ... before our deaths are wasted.

Deep-Root instantly released his hold on the blade in his back and turned.

The dragon lifted its head toward the cave ceiling. Amid a nerve-tearing clack of its jaws, flickers of fire rose between its teeth. Wynn thought she heard Deep-Root whispering something, over and over, but she was lost within herself.

If she’d been there, she would’ve done anything to help him. If nothing else, she would’ve thrown herself in front of any adversary to give him even one more moment to succeed. Inside of him, inside of this memory, she couldn’t help but wonder ...

Would she be trapped here to end along with him?

Deep-Root rushed in, placing the sword’s point against the dragon’s side, still whispering frantically.

Remember him ... his words ... our end, my children.

Before Wynn fathomed those last leaf-wing whispers she heard, Deep-Root threw his bulk against the sword.

A world of fire erupted, and then there was only whiteness. There was no one left to hear the silence in place of those gale whispers.

Wynn cried out as the memory ended. Remnants of the forgotten events washed though her with heat that couldn’t be real.

Deep-Root and the dragon had sacrificed themselves, along with a seatt gone mad, to stop enemy forces from gaining access to the northern lands.

A multitongued voice rose in Wynn’s mind.

Remember!

That word hung alone in the whiteness, which grayed and grew darker.

A flicker like a flame rose—but not in the dark. It reflected on twin obsidian orbs so large they blocked out everything else. Those twin eyes watched Wynn, as the dancing shimmers of orange-red within them spread everywhere in the dark ... spread like memories in Wynn’s mind. As the last of Deep-Root’s images faded, a fresh ache assaulted her. It was like something fiercely pulling at her thoughts, and she felt her own memories rising.

The world went black again for an instant. Then she saw herself moving backward in time, each memory coming more rapidly than the last. First was a clear image and the sensation of the pump cart as it moved, but it was moving backward. Every memory flowed in reverse to another as she relived ...

... driving the wagon down the Slip-Tooth Pass ...

... the attack of the Fay in the Lhoin’na great forest ...

... traveling with Chane, Shade, and Ore-Locks on the ship as they journeyed toward Drist ...

... fighting the wraith in the underworld of Dhredze Seatt ...

... being shunned by her peers in the guild at Calm Seatt ...

... Chane crouching on the ground near a stable, when he first handed her the scroll, lonely hope in his eyes ...

... Shade diving from a dark street to protect her from the wraith ...

... the journey from the Farlands to her homeland with Magiere, Leesil, and Chap ...

And the images came even more rapidly.

... Sgäile lying dead under a willow tree ...

... Chap helping her remove ancient texts from the ice-bound castle’s library ...

... battling Welstiel’s feral vampires in that castle ...

... jumping from a burning elven ship into a lifeboat with Osha ...

... facing Most Aged Father before the council of the an’Cróan ...

... sobbing with her head on Chane’s bloody chest after Magiere cut off his head...

... standing beside Leesil as he uncovered the remains of the five races sacrificed for Magiere’s birth ...

... drinking mint tea with Chane, before she knew he was an undead, as they pored over historical parchments in peace and quiet at the guild annex in Bela ...

Memories rushed back and back, until she stood in the central council hall of Bela. Leesil, Magiere, and Chap came walking down the broad passage. She looked down at Chap and then smiled up at Leesil, seeing his amber eyes for the very first time.

“Stop!” Wynn cried out.

Her shoulder suddenly ached, but her life continued to race by, as if it were only these tiny blinks of time.

Memories suddenly halted, leaving her in darkness, but the pain in her shoulder sharpened. Behind a leaf-wing’s cacophony, broken words echoed over and over.

—Wynn ... come back.... Wynn ... wake up—

Wynn opened her eyes to Shade standing above her. Shade’s jaws were clamped on her shoulder, biting through the cloak, as the dog pulled and shook her.

“Don’t,” Wynn moaned, reaching up.

But lying there on the tunnel floor, the unfamiliar presence remained inside her head. The sensation was nothing like the feel of sharing memories with Shade, or Chap’s multilingual voice in her head. It was harsh and unbreakable, and Wynn clamped her eyes shut again.