Jean Rabe - The Silver Stair

The Solamnic knights spread out, the lieutenant ordering them to keep the barbarians from reaching the settlers. The knights made a valiant effort, but there were too many renegade Que-Nal. Most of the young barbarians met the knights head-on, Shadowwalker screaming to strike where the plates of armor joined. Some skirted past and directly into the path of Orvago, Iryl, and the others.

Goldmoon hesitated only a second as she surveyed the scene. There were soldiers and barbarians falling, and barbarians falling to the knights, who presented more formidable foes in their heavy armor. The gnoll had dropped three barbarians in as many swings, his magical broad sword fairly whistling through the air. Iryl was at his side, crouched and slashing with her long knife, blood dripping from the blade.

At the Silver Stair, the soldiers were pointing into the air and shouting, but there was so much noise from the battle with the Que-Nal that Goldmoon couldn't make out what they were saying.

Another soldier fell, a spear lodged in his leg, and Goldmoon ran toward the man. She nearly trampled Redstone, who was hurling spikes from the building site at a trio of young barbarians.

"Can you use a staff?" the healer shouted to her.

The dwarf nodded. "Any weapon." Her voice gruff and breathy. "I can use anything."

Goldmoon thrust her treasured staff into the woman's thick hands. "Use this well. My other talents are needed."

The dwarf looked at her quizzically for a moment as the healer continued to dash toward the fallen soldier, then her stubby legs churned over the snow-packed ground and toward the trio, a Thorbardin battle cry spewing from her lips.

Redstone cracked the staff into the head of the lead barbarian, happily surprised that he fell with the first blow. She brought the other end around to smack into the second barbarian's stomach, felling him, too. The third looked at her through narrowed eyes and jammed his spear forward, but the squat dwarf dropped to a crouch, and as the spear passed over her head, she jammed the tip of the staff forward, nearly impaling him. He crumpled, and she drove the staff against his head to make sure he wouldn't be getting back up.

"Well indeed," she said, as she pounded toward a rank of soldiers and barbarians. "I better take good care o' this for Goldmoon. Wish Jasper could see me now. Wonder where he is?"

Jasper watched some of the settlers leave the base of the Silver Stair, running toward the far end of the settlement. He could hear the sounds of battle. The soldiers seemed torn between staying and pursuing the elf or joining their comrades. Within a heartbeat, some of them were running away, leaving only six behind. The six began to climb up the stair.

"What are you doin', Gair?" The dwarf's broad face was etched with anger.

"Doing?"

"The fight." The dwarf cocked his head toward the ruckus.

"Some friends of mine. Living ones. They don't care much for Goldmoon and the settlement and are bent on destroying both."

"You'll get them killed, Gair. There's knights down there."

The elf shook his head. "Most of the knights are in Heartspring. If some of my new friends down there die, I'll bring them back… their spirits at least."

Jasper sputtered as he climbed up a dozen more steps, the elf following, urging him higher with the tip of his sword. The dwarf made out the tiny forms of the soldiers guardedly making their way up from far below.

"You owe Goldmoon. You owe her everything Gair! She took you in, taught you mysticism, saved your life on more'n one account."

"You saved my life, too, Jasper." For the briefest moment, the elf's face lost some of its harshness, and he lowered the sword an inch. "On the trail to the settlement, and then…" The elf shook his head, the meanness returning to his visage. "Because you saved my life, I will let you live forever-at my side. Goldmoon, too."

"No." Jasper shook his head and raised his hammer in front of him as the elf forced him upward a few more steps. "Let Goldmoon be, Gair. I'll give you my life if you only…" The dwarf's eyes grew wide as Gair's free hand reached to the step.

The elf began mumbling something, and Jasper saw the step crack beneath the elf's fingers. There was a faint humming-moaning?-as if the Silver Stair was protesting. The elf persisted, and the crack grew wider, scintillating slivers falling away. Minutes passed, and the moaning of the stair grew louder.

"Wh-what are you doin'?" Jasper looked back and forth between the elf's hand and his face. The eyes were closed now in concentration.

The elf continued, furrowed his brow, and mumbled something in a language the dwarf could not understand. Jasper took advantage of the moment and clambered down a few steps. He raised his hammer and brought it down toward the elf's hand.

At the last possible moment, Gair brought his sword around to block the blow. At the same time, he kicked backward with his leg, connecting with the face of a soldier who had made it up this high and sending the man hurtling to the ground far below. The elf scampered down another few steps and spun, meeting the charge of the second soldier and slicing through his abdomen. The man held his ground for a heartbeat, tried to return the blow, then toppled, screaming. Four men were left on the Silver Stair, all in single file because the steps were so narrow and all looking up, horror etched on their faces.

Gair stared at them, paused like game pieces in a row, then he spun to face Jasper, who had inched closer and was preparing to strike again. The elf crouched and leapt above the dwarf like a dancer executing a perfect aerial maneuver, landing on a step above Jasper.

Jasper turned around, a shaken look on his face.

"The stair gives me power, my old friend- physical and mystical." The elf crouched again, sword pointed down at the dwarf to keep him back, free hand against the step. Again, spiderweb-fine cracks appeared beneath his fingers. They grew, and more glistening slivers fell away. "It gives anyone power… anyone who dares to take it."

"You're destroyin' it!" Jasper sputtered. "Gair, stop this!"

"Stop this or what?" the elf taunted. His face was so contorted the dwarf hardly recognized him. "Or you'll kill me?" The elf laughed long and eerily at this. "You were always the better healer, Jasper. We both know that, but I am the better fighter. You and the dumbstruck men behind you haven't a prayer of besting me!"

"I don't want to fight you, Gair. I'd like to help you." The dwarf gestured behind him, urging the four remaining soldiers to climb back down.

"Always looking out for others." The elf watched the four soldiers slowly and carefully retrace their steps. "You should be looking out for yourself." Gair gripped the step more tightly, and the cracks widened still more.

The dwarf struggled up toward Gair and raised his hammer again.

"You don't give up, do you?" The elf shook his head and let his fingers drift to the next higher step, where more fine cracks appeared. "I was going to kill you last, because you saved me. I was going to take Goldmoon first, then-"

"Leave her alone!"

"Our dear teacher. I'm inside her mind, you know. The stair lets me do that. She's using all her energy to heal Camilla's soldiers. She knows I'm watching her, and she can't do a thing about it."

"No!" The dwarf swung hard, putting all his strength into the blow and aiming it down on the elf's hand.

This time Gair wasn't quick enough, and the hammer landed soundly, breaking his fingers. The elf howled and skittered higher, the dwarf pursuing. Many feet below, the soldiers saw the dwarf had gained the upper hand and reversed their course and were coming to join him.

"You dare!" Gair spat, as he climbed higher still, clutching his broken hand to his chest. His eyes were wide with fury, and he swung his long sword awkwardly at the dwarf.