Jean Rabe - The Silver Stair

"You can't fix broken bones," Jasper growled as he continued to pursue the elf. A mist was forming around them. They'd climbed so high they were entering another cloud that had formed. The dwarf squinted through it to keep his eyes on Gair. "Goldmoon shared that talent when you weren't around." He pressed the elf to move faster, holding his hammer high and threatening another blow.

"You can't beat me." The elf's words were ice. "Father!"

Something cold brushed by Jasper, colder than the winter wind that continued to play around him. He nearly dropped his hammer and lost his balance. It was a shadow in the mist, as dark as a starless sky. Two red lights shone inside the shadow, locking onto the dwarf as if they were eyes. Jasper shivered and forced himself to look instead at Gair. The shadow disappeared. Moments passed, and he and the elf found themselves above the mist, the top step of the Silver Stair coming into sight.

"Look!" Jasper pointed.

The elf, still nursing his hand, glanced over his shoulder.

"Did you ever climb all the way to the top, Gair? Did you ever take that chance? There it is, waitin' for you!"

The elf stared at the top step, shimmering invitingly. He hadn't realized they'd climbed so high, and the thought unnerved him, but only for a moment. "So close," he whispered. He found himself walking backward up the stairs, glancing between the dwarf and the topmost step. "So very close."

The dwarf carefully crept up beneath him, holding his position like a statue each time the elf swiveled his head back to check on him. The elf was moving slower, since he was going backward, and the dwarf waited until Gair was nearly to the top step, keeping his eyes on it; then he scrambled forward. He swung his hammer as hard as he could, slamming it into the elf's leg.

Gair cried out, more in surprise than pain, and whirled to face the dwarf, nearly losing his balance and tumbling off the step. Jasper's hammer was coming down again, striking the same leg and causing Gair to fall backward. The elf's sword clattered down the steps, then fell away into the mist far below. He looked to the dwarf, a pleading expression on his face.

"I've no weapon," the elf said. But the fingers of his good hand were closing on a step, and tiny cracks were appearing beneath it. "You've too much honor to strike an unarmed man."

"Don't." Jasper pointed his hammer at the elf's hand. "Leave the stair alone."

The elf looked up innocently, but his lips were moving, mumbling words that once again the dwarf could not understand. They didn't sound elvish. Jasper had been around enough elves in his life. They sounded human, but nothing he could place.

"I said stop!"

Gair's lips moved faster, and a pale glow rose around his fingers and edged up to his wrist.

"That's it!" The dwarf swung, striking the elf's knee, pulled back on the hammer, and brought it down again, even as the elf was struggling to his feet. The impact sent the elf teetering, arms flailing about in an attempt to gain his balance. Jasper struck Gair's leg again, and this time the elf staggered under the blow, his feet slipping off the narrow step. He seemed to hang suspended for a heartbeat, limbs churning as if he were trying to fly, then he plummeted, disappearing into the mist below.

More powerful in death, the wind seemed to whisper.

Jasper shook his head. "By the beard of Reorx, I killed him."

Carefully he turned and sat on the step. He caught his breath and watched as the head of the lead soldier emerged from the mist. The man was shaking, and the dwarf knew it was from fear of being so high.

"It's all right," the dwarf said sadly. "Gair fell." More softly, he added, "He never made it to the top of the Silver Stair." He gestured toward the mist. "I know there's a big fight ragin' down there, so we'd better get ourselves down to it, but take it slow. None of us will do Goldmoon any good if we don't make it down in one piece."

The soldiers complied, backing down and keeping their hands on the steps in front of them for support. They mumbled to themselves about how high up they were, that they could barely hear the battle. It sounded like crickets chirping, and then they were below the mist, and the lights of the campfires came into view. Several fires blazed, and the men and the dwarf could tell that some of the tents were on fire. They quickened their pace as much as they dared, stopping when the lead soldier slipped. Jasper darted forward, stubby fingers locking around his wrist, keeping him from falling.

The dwarf's keen vision studied the shimmering steps, noticing where Gair had cracked them by stealing their mystical energy. "Didn't want to kill him," the dwarf said to himself, "but I couldn't let him destroy the stair or hurt Goldmoon."

The closer the soldiers got to the ground, the faster they went, the one at the bottom jumping off when he was five feet or so above the ground and landing on his rump in the snow. The clang of swords was louder here, as were the cries of those being wounded. The soldiers hurried toward the battle, which was spread across three sides of the settlement, the closest near the cliff.

Jasper grabbed his side, which stung from the exertion of climbing the Silver Stair twice in one evening almost to the top step. He tried to catch his breath, and he looked around the base of the mystical site, searching for Gair's body. The snow was disturbed from the soldiers, but there was no ready sign of the elf. The dwarf knew he couldn't have survived the fall and decided to look later, after the fight was over, provided he lived through it. He thrust his hammer in his belt and ran toward the cliff, taking a path that cut between a pair of burning tents.

Near the construction site, Goldmoon was crawling from one soldier to the next, calling on the power of her heart to stop their bleeding. She wasn't taking the time to completely heal them-that would take too much energy and keep her in one spot too long. A Solamnic Knight stood over her, keeping her safe from the spear thrusts of the angry Que-Nal.

"Too many of them," the knight told her.

Goldmoon didn't reply. She moved on to another fallen soldier, stifling a cry when she saw he was dead. She was on her feet and sprinting toward a man who'd just dropped, the knight fast behind her, parrying the blows of the vengeful Que-Nal.

The healer dropped to the man's side and felt for the warmth of her mystical healing powers. "Do not die on me, Samual," she said. He was one of the first soldiers stationed at the settlement. "Do not… yes!" His eyes fluttered open as more of her healing energy poured into him.

Above their heads, her protector knight rained a series of blows against a stocky Que-Nal, breaking his spear and driving the man back.

The healer stayed over Samual, tearing a strip from her cloak and pressing it against his shoulder, where a spear had bit viciously deep.

"You'll be all right," she told him. She was pulling him back, away from the fighting line, even as she was casting her gaze about the entire camp to take stock of the fight.

The largest battle was being fought at the construction site. Solamnic knights and soldiers were keeping dozens of Que-Nal from pressing into the main part of the settlement. Only one knight had fallen, and Goldmoon intended to get to him next. Several of her students were at the edge of the fight, using the skills she had taught them to save the injured soldiers.

A second battle raged between soldiers and Goldmoon's followers on the eastern edge of the camp, near the trail to Heartspring. Shadowwalker had found his way there and was directing his fiery-tempered disciples from a safe distance. Redstone was there, using Goldmoon's staff with telling effect. The dwarf had become the target of the old shaman's ire, and he was gesturing for the strongest of his warriors to deal with her.