Morgan Rice - Night of the Bold

Aidan jammed the spear into the wooden spokes of the catapult’s wheel. A moment later, another soldier stepped forward and hacked the great rope.

A rush of air flew past, and Aidan braced himself as the catapult snapped beside him, the spear jamming its spokes. It made a great snapping noise, and Aidan was thrilled to see the catapult snapping in two. His sabotage had worked.

The boulder, as a result, fell short, and instead of killing his father, it smashed into a crowd of Pandesian soldiers, killing dozens of them on the spot.

Mass chaos broke out, and slowly, Aidan saw a group of Pandesian soldiers turn and spot him.

“TRAITOR!” one cried, pointing to Aidan.

“RUN!” Motley cried. “NOW!”

Aidan wanted to stop, to stay there and fight, to do all he could to help his father. After all, he had just managed to save his life, and to kill dozens of Pandesians at the same time. Yet Motley yanked him away, back through the thick crowd of soldiers, and Aidan knew he had no other choice. He was being swarmed, and he could not make a stand against thousands; if they were to have any chance of survival, now was the time to flee.

“MY FATHER!” Aidan cried, resisting.

“You’ve done all you can do!” Motley cried back. “You’ve saved his life. He’s on his own now.”

Aidan found himself yanked back into the cave, joined by Motley, Cassandra, and White, all of them back in the blackness, racing back, once again, for the right side of the Gulch – and to be reunited, Aidan prayed, with his father once again.

Do not die, Father, he prayed silently. Do not die.

Duncan braced himself as the boulder flew through the air, cringing, expecting to be crushed. Yet he watched, stunned, as its course was altered. Something had happened at the catapult, almost as if someone had sabotaged it behind enemy lines – and the boulder, instead of crushing him, of ending any chance of sealing the Gulch, fell short. Duncan looked down and watched as it crushed dozens of Pandesians, stopping their advance toward him.

It was a miracle. And the second chance he needed to seal the Gulch for good and save Escalon.

Duncan went back to prying the lodged boulder, straining all his muscles as he pushed the long spear with all his might.

Please, God , he prayed, give me the strength. I do not ask for life. I ask only to die in victory. To save my people.

Finally, with a great whooshing noise, the massive boulder, twenty feet in diameter, gave. It rolled, wedged free, and fell toward the ground. With a huge crash and a cloud of dust, it sealed off the Devil’s Gulch for good.

Duncan felt a wave of relief unlike any he’d ever had. Finally, his homeland was secure.

The move, though, as Duncan knew it would, left him standing there, alone amidst the enemy, exposed. He turned and looked out and as he saw the flood of Pandesians charging below, he saw a gleaming in the sunlight and saw none other than the Great and Holy Ra himself leading the way, charging right for Duncan. He rode in his chariot, his long golden spear extended before him, and before Duncan could react, Ra hurled it.

In a blur of motion, Duncan watched the spear sail through the air. But it all happened too fast for him to react.

A moment later, Duncan felt blinding pain, pain as he had never felt. It was the pain of a spear entering his chest, coming out the other side. A pain of finality. A pain from which, he knew at once, he would not recover.

Duncan looked up and met Ra’s eyes, and his final feeling, curiously, was one of comfort. He had died, at least, by the hand of his enemy, in the midst of his enemy, sealing off the Gulch, saving his nation, ridding Escalon of the plague of Pandesia forever.

His death, and his life, was a victory.

Kyra raced through the air on Theon’s back, gripping his scales as they flew south, driven by a sense of urgency. Her father awaited her, and she could sense his life hung in the balance. With her heightened powers, Kyra was able to sense things more strongly now, and she felt his danger as if it were her own, as if he were right there beside her.

Gripping the Staff of Truth, Kyra was beginning to see things, her vision becoming more clear. She saw her father surrounded by a great and dangerous army; she saw him facing off with Ra; she saw a gulch, boulders, men falling and dying. She saw an epic battle being waged, one in which the entire fate of Escalon hung in the balance. She leaned down and urged Theon on, the clouds whipping her face. She only prayed it was not too late.

All these months spent training with Alva, meeting her mother, flying to Marda, retrieving the staff – it had all been for this, this moment in time, to fight by her father’s side. Finally, her destiny was becoming clear. The prophecy, she realized, had perhaps been right all along.

As she dwelled on her father, she could not help but have a sinking premonition that she was already too late. She saw him surrounded, evil forces closing in, and her heart pounded in dismay. If she had just finished her training a bit sooner, had just left Marda a bit sooner, perhaps she would be fighting by his side now.

“Faster, Theon!” she urged.

Theon obliged and Kyra gripped his scales as the two flew so fast she could barely catch her breath, her homeland racing by in a blur below.

Finally, the terrain changed, and as Kyra looked down, she gasped. There, below, was what appeared to be the entire expanse of the Pandesian army, covering her beloved homeland like a nation of ants. She was even more startled to see that they were now on the southern side of the Devil’s Gulch and racing north, trying to reenter Escalon. She realized at once that an epic battle was being waged in the Gulch, between the cliffs and the sea, the waves crashing into the rocks on one side, the towering cliffs bordering the men on the other. It was a battle that had the very fate of Escalon at stake.

Kyra watched catapults hurling boulders through the air, smashing into the cliffs; she saw her father’s men falling and dying; she saw Pandesian soldiers swarming below, ramming the rock, trying to break through.

“LOWER, THEON!”

As Theon descended, Kyra spotted something amidst the mayhem that made her heart stop. There, standing atop a huge boulder in the center of the Gulch, facing off against the Pandesian army alone, stood her father. There he stood, so proud, making a stand against an army. She watched as he pried loose a great boulder, saw it fall in a cloud of dust to seal the Gulch for good. She had never been more proud of him than at that moment.

And then Kyra watched, horror-struck, as Ra rushed forward on his golden chariot, raised a golden spear, and hurled it into her father’s chest.

She felt her entire life collapse inside her as she watched it kill him.

“NO!” she cried.

Theon dove, needing no urging, sensing what she wanted – and he opened his great mouth and roared.

Fire came pouring down. It spread out in waves on the southern side of the Gulch, and hundreds of Pandesians shrieked, flailing, instantly aflame.

Kyra watched as Ra ducked down beneath his golden chariot, taking cover with his men, using them and their armor as shields. His men fled, burned alive, in every direction, unable to escape Theon’s wrath, while Ra huddled beneath the chariot, which melted all around him.

As Theon dove low, roaring in fury, the flames rolled, engulfing all the soldiers approaching the Gulch, pushing back the entire Pandesian army. The Pandesian soldiers, realizing, finally turned and fled, away from the Gulch, as Kyra and Theon drove them back.

Kyra pursued them, vengeance burning in her blood. She felt the Staff of Truth summoning her, and she felt a burning urge to use it. She brought it down fiercely, with a great battle cry.