Five years later, it's finally all over...
I started this LJ when I first got back into writing as a way to encourage me to make regular progress and also get some feedback. The first part failed, but I'm not surprised really. I will write thousands of words when I'm in the right mood, but I can't control that. I could never be a professional writer, even if I though I was good enough, as I can't maintain the level of output. But, five years later, I have finally finished.
Well, first draft at least. There's plenty that needs changing and expanding on, I'm sure of that. I'm about 20,000 words short of what I was hoping to finish on, so I'm hoping to find a few bits to pad out considerably. I think the way I have written is pretty much the way I play RPGs - push through the plot the first time, and then replay to get more of the side quests and hidden stuff. Hopefully I'll be able to do that with the story as well.
As a dyslexic I suck balls when it comes to technical editing on my work. Things that are blatantly wrong I will tend to read as correctly and not notice the mistakes. I'm also aware that as the writer, I'm intimately involved with the characters and plot so sometimes things seem obvious to me that really aren't to the reader. As such, I'd really appreciate any offers of editing. You can either read it online, I can email you a soft copy or print you out a hard one if you would prefer.
Anyway - here is the last part. I've included the ending again for completion's sake.
Two men stood at the crossroads, waiting. After a moment, one turned to the other.
“Remind me again, my friend, why we are standing out here in the snow and not back in our tents where it’s at least slightly warmer?”
“Because the queen of Marin said I sould wait here.”
“The queen of Marin is a mad woman, Luca! Everyone knows that. What if this whole thing has been an elaborate play? Support Michael Forystin’s claim; lend him troops; then cripple his commanders by making them stand at a cross-roads until they get frostbite.”
Luca Thaan sighed. “She’s not mad. Or rather, she probably is, but she’s not always mad. That’s the important thing. If you had ever met her you’d understand. When she tells you the things she has seen, it’s like there’s nothing more true than her words. You just cannot disbelieve her. You’re my friend Robbie, you trust me don’t you?”
“I trust you, Luca. I’m not sure I trust the words of a foreign queen who would take me away from my food and fire. Okay, okay,” he added, seeing he would not shake his friend's faith.
“What exactly are we looking out for?”
“She said if we wait here, we’ll meet a man travelling with two of the Folk, and he’ll be able to help us. That’s the gist of it at least.”
“Well, who ever it is, they had better be leading a pretty decent army. Even with the men the Queen has lent us I’m not sure we can win this fight, Luca.”
“Quiet, someone’s coming.”
Further down the road three figures had come into view. Amari spotted the waiting Dresrin soldiers about the same time they spotter her. Instantly wary, she moved her horse ahead so she was between her friends and the men ahead. Without taking her eyes off them, she unhooked her crossbow.
“Hail!” Luca called.
“Who are you? What do you want with us?” She demanded.
“My name is Luca Thaan, and my companion is Robbie Allan, the Viscount of Seaforge. This is going to sound strange, but we were waiting for you. At least, I think it’s you that we’re waiting for.”
“Who sent you?”
“Queen Miranda of Marin. She said you would be able to help.”
Zephyr looked up. “Miranda sent you?”
“I don’t like this,” Amari muttered, speaking in the Folk tongue to hide her words from the strangers. “We should get out of here.”
Zephyr shook his head. “If Miranda sent them, she must have some good reason for doing it. Let's at least see what they want.” He turned to Luca Thaan. “What exactly is it we can help you with?”
“Before that, just who are you? You seem pretty familiar with the queen, but I've never heard of anyone like you.”
“Well, you see, I'm... I'm...” He sighed. Suddenly all the lies and false persona seemed distasteful. “I’m her brother, sort of.” To his surprise, the Dresrin noble nodded as if he understood.
“I see. So this is a favour for her in return for recognition of legitimacy, correct? That makes sense. I guess the next important question is how many sword do you have?”
Zephyr, already confused, looked down. “Only the one.”
“No, I mean how many...” Luca stopped as he realised the truth. “It's just the three of you, isn't it? You don't actually have any men at your command, do you?”
He shook his head. “Did Miranda say we would?”
“No. I just assumed that help for a battle would come in the form of more soldiers. How stupid of me!” He laughed bitterly. “Maybe you were right, Robbie. Maybe the queen is just having a joke at our expense.”
“Miranda isn't like that,” Zephyr said softly. “If she said we could help, then she genuinely thinks we can. Why don't you at least explain the situation to us? That can't hurt, can it?”
Luca looked at his friend, who shrugged. He sighed. “Very well. Follow me.”
He led them down the road out of the trees to an open plain where an army was camped in front of a dark and imposing castle. Beyond it was the mountain range that marked the border between day and night.
“That's the Night-Fort,” Luca was saying. “It's the oldest castle in Dresrin. Traditionally, it watches the mountains, our first line of defence against anything that comes from the night. These days the watch is small and symbolic, but the castle is always well stocked and well maintained; the walls are as strong as they were when they were first built. It might seem silly to anyone who hasn't lived here, but in Dresrin the night is always at our back and we can never forget that fact. Anyway, the history isn't really important; what's important is who is in there at the moment.”
“And who is that?”
“The man who took the country and murdered our king. He's holed up in there with a force of paladins, but we know it's only a fraction of his forces. Now is our best chance to defeat him. He's trapped with an inferior force and we have fresh fighters from Marin. Not only that, but it turns out that Michael Forystin, the crown prince, survived the attack. Previously there was always the risk that even with we destroyed the invader, we'd just end up with a power struggle. Now we have someone legitimate to place on the throne.”
“So what's the problem?”
“We can't break their defences. The castle is strong, really strong. It's designed to stand against anything that might come from the evils of the night after all. And the men who defend it are almost as inhuman. They don't seem to feel pain, or get tired. They go down to swords and axes eventually, but by the time one of them falls, there are ten or twenty of ours are one the ground. And while we have the advantage in a siege, we don't know how much time we have. If the rest of his army comes before we have broken through, we don't stand a chance. So you can see why I was a little disappointed to discover you weren't the help I was expecting.”
Zephyr smiled. “I can imagine. But I think I can help. Seems to me the best solution is to get a small force inside, to get the doors open and if possible take out the invader when he's not expecting it.”
“Well, yes. That would be ideal, but unless you know a way to turn men invisible I'm not sure how that would be possible.”
He pointed southwards, towards a small coppice a mile or so away. “See those trees? Down there is the entrance to a tunnel that leads all the way to the castle. I guess they wanted to be sure that if something did break through from the dark side that they'd have the chance to get a warning out to the rest of the country. As time passed and they stopped taking the watch so seriously the tunnels probably faded from memory.”
“And the tunnel is still clear and usable?” Luca asked, a note of obvious excitement in his voice.
“It's obviously not what it was, but it was okay about a year ago. Of course, if they've discovered the entrance inside the castle we could be in trouble, but I think it's worth trying.”
Luca nodded. “An assassination team. It could work. Very well. Over there is my tent. Wait here for me. I need to discuss this with a few people.”
As soon as they were alone in the tent Amari turned on Zephyr.
“Are you mad? What are doing helping these people?” She was still talking in her native language, making no attempt to lower her voice.
Zephyr looked away. “I don’t know. It just, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Look, we found him didn’t we? And if he’s in there then Summer is too. If we had kept on walking we might never have known he was so close. If we get some help getting him out, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“Have you forgotten? You told us that the man in that castle's life is inextricably linked to yours. When they find him they won't just kill him, they'll be killing you too.”
He sat down, putting his head in his hands. “I know. I know. I didn't think he'd accept my idea just like that. I was hoping he'd let us go in alone, at least at first.”
“Well he might yet,” Jack cut in. “We don't know what he's going to decide. Besides we can't be certain anything that man told you is the truth, Zephyr. I mean, two lives bound by blood, it seems a little far-fetched to me.”
“Any more than little blue-haired boys; snow in summer or people rising from the dead?” Amari retorted. “I think the definition of far-fetched has been changed a bit by recent events.”
Jack knelt down and poked the fire, stoking the flames and sending a shower of sparks rising up from the embers. “Don’t worry lad, we’ll think of something. We just need to come up with a reason for them to keep him alive.”
“Do you think they’ll listen to us?”
“No,” he replied thoughtfully, “but they might listen to Michael. And I think I can convince him.” He stood up, an idea forming in his head. It would not be pleasant, but sometimes a man had to do what was required of him, rather than what he wanted. “You two wait here; try and get some rest. I suggest we don't hang around any longer than we have to.”
Without waiting for any further questions he stepped outside the tent. The snow had started up again, and a bitter wind pierced his clothes. Shading his eyes against the weather, Jack looked until he spotted what had to be Michael’s tent. It was larger than the others around it, the flag of the Forystin family flying prominently, black and gold striking against the white sky. Two guards stood to stiff attention at the entrance. Jack approached them slowly.
“Who goes there?”
“I’m a friend of the prince. I’ve come to pay my regards.”
“I don’t think so. What would someone like you know of the prince?” There was a definite sneer to his voice.
“Look, just tell him Jack Jenner is outside. If he sends me away so be it. But he’ll be annoyed if he finds you’ve kept a genuine guest out in the cold and I know what a temper the young prince has.”
The two guards looked at each other and shrugged. One headed into the tent and came out a minute later, holding the entrance open for Jack.
Inside, he saw Michael slumped on a fur draped chair before a fire. He looked up as Jack approached and his expression widened with surprise.
“Jack! It is you! I was sure there was some mistake when they said you were outside. What are you doing here? Are the others with you?” he added cautiously.
“Aye. Well, Zephyr and Amari are. Saffron… I’m afraid poor Saffron is no longer is with us.”
“Did something happen?”
“Yes, it did. We were arrested in Serpent’s Gate. Don’t ask me how we were able to get away, because I’m still not sure of that myself, but it wasn’t without casualties.” He studied Michael’s face carefully, waiting for his reaction.
“I never…I never…” he stammered. “I mean, I never expected anything like that would ever happen.”
“Really? Because the rest of us were sure it was only a matter of time before we were arrested.”
“I suppose so. But Saffron’s dead? Damn, he lied to me again.”
“Who?” Jack enquired.
“Er, Zephyr, of course,” Michael said quickly, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “He promised he’d take care of everyone.”
“Here, dry your eyes.” Jack handed him a slightly grubby handkerchief. “Saffron wouldn’t want you to cry for her. She was such a brave lass. Remember her as she was, not her fate.”
Michael blew his nose loudly. “Is that why you came here? To tell me about her?”
Jack’s suspicions had been confirmed by Michael’s actions. Now all he needed was a chance. “I thought you had a right to know. But I also came here to ask a favour and give you some advice.”
Michael settled back in his chair and gestured to Jack to take the one next to him. “Go on.”
Jack took the chair gratefully. He paused, thinking over his words carefully. They could be the most important he had ever spoken: so much rested on convincing Michael to do two things.
“The man in the castle, the invader, you cannot allow him to die. Not for a while yet. I can’t say why,” he continued, holding up his hand as Michael started to speak, “and I doubt you’d believe me if I could, but I wouldn’t be asking it if it wasn’t vitally important. You know there is something very wrong with the world, and he’s at the centre of it. If he dies the results could be tragic.”
Michael nodded. “I believe you, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to convince anyone else. After everything that has happened, well, there’s a strong desire for blood here.”
“You have to convince them,” Jack urged. “The world cannot be allowed to suffer because a prince could not control his subjects. But just how much influence can you have? Even now your commanders are meeting, discussing strategy while you sit here alone. You need to be careful lad: you might have a useful role now, but if anyone feels you are no longer useful they’ll look to replace you.”
Michael paled visibly.
“Which brings me my advice. We’re going to sneak into to castle shortly; I think you should come with us.”
“Me? Why? What could I do?”
“Well, it could seriously improve your standing here, if you play your cards right. Imagine the scene: the defences have been breached, your army has made its way through the last fighters and at the end they find you waiting for them; the invader a prisoner at your feet. Wouldn't that show you were worthy for the throne? Isn't that the sort of thing they'll talk about long after you are dead?”
Michael nodded, picturing the scene clearly in his mind. “Yes, yes indeed!”
“Hold your horses, lad, you haven't beaten him yet! First you've got to convince your men that the invader must kept alive and that you yourself should come with us into the castle. If you can't do those two things, then you will never be the king you think you should be.” He stood up. “I trust I will see you later.”
He made the short walk through the snow and back to the tent where Zephyr and Amari where waiting for him.
“Well?” she demanded almost as soon as he had entered. “Did you talk to him? Did he agree?”
“I think so. Michael's a fairly easy person to manipulate. He's easily frightened, but has a high opinion of himself. Play on his fear and vanity and it's easy to mould his thoughts to yours.” He caught Amari's expression and saw she found idea more than a little distasteful. “We'll know if I have succeeded when he turns up to join us.”
“You can't be serious?” Amari was horrified. “Jack, Michael is probably the one who set us up in Serpent's Gate. Now you want to give him another chance?”
“Michael knows who we are. If he wants to sell us out then we are not getting out of this camp. Something Zephyr might have been wise to consider before he volunteered our services,” he added pointedly. “Still, what is done is done and I think I have convinced Michael that his best interests lie with ours at the moment. Partly that's why I want him with us so I can keep an eye on him. But he must trust us, Amari, believe that we mean him well. You understand this, right?”
“Yes, I know.” She clenched her fist. “I should have never listened to her,” she muttered, wanting to be challenged, but no one noticed.
There was nothing to do then but wait for Luca Thaan to return. Amari was of the opinion that they should not wait at all, but leave and attempt the rescue on their own. Jack disagreed, pointing out that leaving now would look suspicious and if they were caught before they got to the tunnel they might not be able to explain sufficiently. Zephyr left them to it. The slow rising hope he had felt earlier; the idea that maybe they had finally caught a break was gone. Looking down at the intricate rust-coloured design etched in his palm he knew now there were no more breaks. There was here and now, and ahead the rushing, inevitable conclusion. Everything was coming together and within the dark, indefatigable walls of the Night-Fort they would find out how it all ends. Would the sun set forever, plunging the land into the terror of night? Or would they emerge victorious and if so, what exactly did victory entail?
It should have terrified him: that time had run out; that there could be no more running away. But instead there a strange, warm calm that infused him through and through. He would not run even if he could: he was a part of the unfolding events and he would play his role until the end, whatever that might be. He looked across at Amari and knew whatever else, he would save her. She noticed him watching her.
“You seem very calm, all things considered,” she commented.
“I am. One way or another, it all comes down to what happens next. And I want to find out what that is.”
She looked confused for a moment, then smiled. “You’re a strange man, Zephyr Stormchaser.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of Luca Thaan, who was accompanied by Michael. The prince met Jack’s eye, but refused to look straight at either Zephyr or Amari. Jack nodded in approval at his presence.
“Are you ready?” Luca enquired. “The fort is quiet at the moment. We should avoid being noticed if we ride away from camp before heading to the tunnel entrance.”
“Just the five of us?” Amari asked and he nodded.
“It wasn’t how I had planned it, but the prince believes our best chance is with a small team, swift and silent. Once we are in the tunnel, the rest of the forces will renew their assault, making sure the invaders are distracted as we attack from the inside. We need to get the gates open, and if we get a chance to take out their leader so much the better.”
“He is to remain alive though,” Michael added, looking straight at Jack. “I want him to answer for what he has done. Death is too easy.”
Nothing more was said as they rode out of camp and away before swinging round towards the small copse Zephyr has pointed out earlier. Once safe in the shadows of the trees they dismounted. Zephyr stroked Allegro’s nose fondly.
“Goodbye old friend,” he whispered.
He began to pace the open clearing, staring intently at the mossy soil and scuffing at it with his boot until he found what he was looking for: what appeared to be a well cover set in the ground. When the heavy cover was lifted off, there was a dark hole maybe four feet across.
“It’s not as deep as it looks,” Zephyr commented. “The tunnel heads off that way,” he added, pointing in the direction of the fort. He lit a torch and then dropped into the pit. From the light of the flames they could see the sandy floor about eight feet below and the entrance to a passage leading away from them. One by one, they followed him down.
The passage to the fort was only four or so feet high, so they were forced to walk in an uncomfortable crouch. The walls were damp stone, cold and slimy to touch; here and there some had worked loose and fallen onto the sandy path. The bright torches made the darkness either side of them seem even blacker and Amari found herself grateful that she had ended up in the middle of the group.
Eventually the walls of the tunnel changed to become thick slabs of grey stone, and eventually stopped at a bare wall, which had some small cavities carved in at regular intervals.
“This is it,” Zephyr said softly. “Anyone who wants out should turn back now. This is your last chance.”
No one said anything, though Jack could see Michael was pale and trembling slightly.
“No one is giving up, lad. Lead on.”
Zephyr led them up and into another stone gallery. The air here was stale and musty; it felt as old and untouched as the stones themselves.
“We’re in the walls of the fort,” Michael realised.
Zephyr nodded. “We need to go this way, I think.” He walked on, trying to reconcile what he could see with his memories of the place. After a while the gallery joined up with two more. Zephyr paused. “I’m not sure which is the best way to go,” he admitted.
“I thought you knew your way around here!” Luca demanded in an angry whisper.
“I never actually said that. I only pointed out the way in.”
“Why don’t we split up?” Jack suggested. “It was inevitable that we would have to do it eventually. Here is as good a place as any. I’ll go with the prince and Luca here, if you two are going to be all right by yourselves?”
Amari slipped her hand into Zephyr’s. “We’ll be fine. Take care Jack, and thank you for everything.”
“Don’t make it sound so final lass, and don’t you worry about old Jack. Just look after yourselves.”
They both nodded, then Amari led Zephyr off before parting could become more drawn out. Jack looked at the two Dresrin nobles who were to be his companions. He was so close to his final task: there was one thing left to do. The passage ended with a small door that lead out into the fort proper. A corridor with several doors lay before them.
“I’m going to look ahead,” Luca announced.
Jack nodded and let him walk towards the end of the gallery before grabbing Michael by the wrist and pulling him into the closest room before the price could protest. Carefully he bared the door. Outside he heard Luca knock and call out once, but then stopped. Jack was unsure if he had actually been seen, or if he was just aware of the risk of attracting attention.
“Well, there is no sense in worrying; time to focus on the task ahead,” he muttered aloud. “Seems if you want something done you have to do it yourself. He couldn’t, he’d never have it in him. She would, but she’d be too quick. No, when it comes down to it, you’ve got to rely on old Jack.”
“Jack? What are you talking about?” Michael asked. His voice was trembling. “Why are we in here?”
Jack turned around and took satisfaction in watching Michael flinch as he took a step forward. “Because something needs to be done, lad. Something needs to be done about you.”
Michael took a couple of steps backward and found the wall at his back. “I don’t understand! What are you talking about, Jack? You’re scaring me!”
“Scaring you? I’ve barely begun. You can’t get out of this Michael; you need to answer for what you’ve done. But I have no intention of making this quick.”
Michael drew his sword, but his hand was shaking violently. In one fluid motion Jack grabbed his wrist and disarmed him, sending the blade clattering across the floor. Michael tried to duck under Jack’s arm to make a dash for the door, but jack caught him by the collar and threw him bodily into the wall.
“Luca! Luca, where are you! Help me!”
Jack smiled grimly. “I’d be quiet if I were you. You are in the castle of your enemy after all. Do you think if he discovers a Forystin whelp within his walls he’s going to have any qualms about killing you?”
Michael realised he was trapped. He stood no chance of making it to the door, let alone opening it, and there would be no help on the other side even if he could break free. He dropped to his knees on the hard stone floor; hands clasped together and tears in his eyes, he looked up at Jack.
“Please, don’t hurt me!” he begged. “I’m so sorry: I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
“It’s too late for that now,” came the cold reply. “You sold us out; what did you think was going to happen?”
“You don’t understand,” Michael wept. “That man, he bewitched me. I couldn’t help myself!”
“Enough. That’s enough. This ends here.”
He closed his hands around Michael’s throat and began to squeeze. The boy choked, his face turning first red, then purple. His arms beat at Jack feebly then went limp. His eyes were open, but glassy and unseeing; his tongue lolled from his mouth. Satisfied his task was done, Jack let the body fall to the floor.
Jack walked across the room and looked out through the narrow window. He could hear the sounds of the ongoing battle outside and wondered which side was winning. Had anyone managed to open the gate? Despite his earlier words he had little hope that his friends would be victorious. Finding Summer would require a miracle and they had used their fair share of those; escape was inconceivable. He had thought that killing Michael would at least bring a sense of justice, even if they could do nothing about the greater threat, but the deed just left him empty. It was a pitiful ending to a pitiful life that did nothing to atone for the crimes of the past.
He sighed and stretched. It was no use standing here dwelling on the matter. What was done was done and nothing would change that. If he was to meet his end here, so be it, but he would not sit around waiting for death to find him. No, he would find it on his own terms. Feeling composed and resigned, Jack Jenner unbarred the door and walked out to meet his fate.
Further into the fort, Zephyr and Amari were continuing their search for Summer. Hurrying from room to room, throwing doors open left and right they searched through the stronghold. They had thrown aside their caution when it became clear that soldiers here would ignore them. They had been spotted not long after they had split off from Jack and for a heart-stopping it seemed that all was lost. But instead of raising the alarm, the man stared at them for a moment and then carried on past them. It was almost as if he had no idea how to react to their presence so had chosen to do nothing.
Now time was their only enemy. They had to find Summer and the Red Prince before the fighting spilled into the fort and put their lives at risk. They both knew neither would be anywhere near the battle zone, but that still left several hiding places within the building. The fort was featureless and largely symmetrical: it was often hard to work out whether they were somewhere new or somewhere they had already investigated.
Suddenly Amari stopped in front of the door she had just opened. Zephyr heard her quiet gasp and turned to see her standing face to face with the Red Prince. For a moment both of them were frozen in shock at the other’s appearance, but Amari recovered herself first. Unable to risk drawing a weapon on him, she launched herself at the man, sending them both sprawling on the floor. He struggled beneath her, but she had him effectively pinned. Satisfied, she looked up and spotted the four soldiers in the room for the first time.
“Don’t just stand there!” the Red Prince yelled. “Get her!”
From her position on the floor, Amari could not get away fast enough. She tried to stand but the Red Prince grabbed her boot, tripping her. As she fell forwards a soldier stepped forward and delivered a blow that caught her in the temple, leaving her stunned. A second one raised his sword for the killing blow.
“Don’t hurt her!” Zephyr threw himself into the room and in front of Amari’s slumped figure. Behind him she growled.
“Get away you fool!”
The Red Prince had got to his feet by now. With a sigh he gestured to the soldiers.
“Seize them both. If the woman struggles too much knock her out. I don’t have time to deal with any trouble making.”
The closest man grabbed Zephyr, pinning his arms behind his back. The second went to secure Amari but by now she had recovered her wits enough to draw her blades. A single thrust was all she needed to drive the dagger into his throat. Blood spurted out over her hand. She let the body fall to the floor and looked for her next target. The Red Prince was still in the doorway, one soldier still held Zephyr while the remaining two were moving down the room towards her. There was only one option that made sense.
She leapt for the Red Prince, pinning him to the wall. Within an instant her blade was at his throat.
“Call them off,” she hissed, watching the soldiers closely.
“You must know who I am,” he replied quietly. “He must have told you what killing me would mean.”
“Yeah, he told me what you said. That doesn’t mean I believe it. Besides.” She pressed the blade harder against his skin. “He never said anything bad would happen if I just hurt you.”
“Very well, you’ve made your point quite succinctly. But if I could just suggest something?”
She tensed, but he had already grabbed the end of her braid. He pulled hard, yanking her head back and pulling her down so he was staring down into her eyes.
“Long hair doesn’t suit a woman in your occupation. Now, you exhausted my patience. Sleep.”
Amari found the room growing dark. She struggled to fight back against the suggestion, but her eyelids were suddenly too heavy to keep open. Her knees buckled and she slumped to the floor. The Red Prince stepped over her distainfully and stood in front of Zephyr.
“You have disappointed me, boy. I gave not only you but your friends their freedoms. And how do you repay me? By continuing to meddle in my affairs. I see I shall have to keep an eye on you until the deed is done. And once the Sithi are restored and I have my immortality I shall put you out of my misery permanently. Bring him, and bring the woman too. She may be useful if he gets any more bright ideas.”
The soldier bound Zephyr’s hand and pushed him out the room after the Red Prince. Ahead, the man was speaking to another soldier. He was carrying a bundle of something in his arms.
“Is it complete?”
“We’ve just broken through my Lord.”
“At last. I’ve wasted too much time here. The fighting is getting too close for my tastes. I suppose that’s your doing as well, boy? Well, no matter now. It’s too late. This place made a fine sanctuary but it’s time to move on. They are waiting for me.”
He led the way down the corridor and entered another nondescript room. In the middle of this one someone had dug a hole in the centre of the earth floor. A ladder led down into the depths. Two soldiers descended first; one of them carrying the bundle Zephyr had spotted earlier. Then the man behind him pushed him down after them. He landed badly in the dark, stumbling into the wall of the tunnel. Ahead, a torch was lit and he could see a roughly hewn passage stretching ahead, here and there braced clumsily with narrow wooden beams. Compared to the gallery they had used to enter the fort, this one was poor imitation.
After a while the tunnel suddenly became wider, the walls smoother and more refined. In the flickering torchlight, Zephyr noticed something heaped up near the transition point. Curious, he leaned closer to take a better look, then recoiled when he realised it was a human skeleton. No, wait. The skull was too large, with a protruding chin and narrow eye sockets. The wisps of hair that still clung to it were a pale lilac. Not human then.
“You're looking at one of the last Sithi to die,” the Red Prince said softly behind him. There was an almost reverential tone to his voice. “The sunlight was fatal to them, and the darkness killed off their crops and animals. They built this to try and steal into our half of the world, but the last one died before they could reach anything useful. Can you how they must have felt, being reduced to crawling around in the dirt like cockroaches?”
Zephyr said nothing, but something about the fate of the last of the Sithi moved him. Dying alone in the dark with no one left to mourn him was a pitiful end. And human stories about the Sithi branded them as monsters, and given their destiny that was probably true for most, but had they all deserved it?
They walked on for what felt like hours more, passing past more sorry piles of bones scattered on the floor and left untouched for thousands of years. No one spoke. The four guards had said nothing since he had first encountered them, and Amari was still unconscious. Zephyr knew he had no chance to convince his father with words, and alone he was no match for the five of them.
The terrain began to change. No longer was it the straight and cleanly carved tunnel. Now it was becoming clear that they were in a natural passage, though there signs it had been modified: here and there the cavern had been widened; where the path had become steep steps had been carved into the rocks. It rising upwards now, climbing upwards towards the former home of the Sithi.
Finally the became visible again. Zephyr stepped out of the cave and found himself standing on a narrow path high above the plains they had left hours ago. They were on the edge of night here: the sun was a thin curved line of light far away in the distance. The air was cold and the wind was fierce. He pressed his back against the stone face of the mountain. At a word from the Red Prince, one of the guards cut the bonds around his wrists.
“The path is treacherous in places, you will need your hands free. I trust you will not try anything stupid. If we have to knock you unconscious and drag you with us, it will slow us down but we will. I'm going to wake her now; make sure she understands.”
Zephyr knelt beside Amari, and wrapped his arms around her as the Red Prince whispered something in her ear. She woke quickly and he held her tight to prevent any reaction that might put her at risk. She looked around, taking in her current situation and recalling her last memories.
“Where are we?” she asked as he helped her to her feet.
“The end of the world, I think,” he replied.
“We're going into the night, aren't we?” she asked, and there was a tremor in her voice that had nothing to do with the cold wind. He nodded and she paled visibly. “I...I don't know if I can,” she stammered, visibly shaking.
Zephyr squeezed her hand. “Yes you can. I believe in you, Songbird. Just take your time.”
The Red Prince shook his head. “We don't have time for this.”
Zephyr let go of Amari's hand and took a few quick steps backwards. The edge of the cliff path crumbled under his back foot, sending pebbles bouncing down the ravine. Seeing his father open his mouth, Zephyr held up his hand.
“Nobody move or I'll jump.”
“You wouldn't dare!”
“Really? Seems to me it would be a pretty good solution.” He looked over at Amari, who was frozen, a look of fear and horror on her face. “But not an ideal one. So, as long as no one moves, I'll wait here until Songbird is ready to go.”
Amari clenched her fists, feeling her nails bite into her palm. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind whip at her hair, and took a deep breath. She pictured Summer, and the frozen world they had been travelling through. It's down to me, she told herself. Me and him. No one else even understands what is happening. I can't fail now. I made a promise and I can't go back on my word. Not now. Not after all of this. She took another deep breath that did nothing to to quell her shaking and held out her hand to Zephyr.
“I'm ready,”
He clasped it and kissed her forehead.
“He can't win this,” he told her, looking across at his father. “I know this as strongly as I know I love you. I don't know how yet, but we will find a way.”
The Red Prince rolled his eyes, but said nothing to them. Instead he ordered the guards to move on. Walking in single file down the narrow path, the seven humans turned their back on the sunlight and made their way into the dark side of the world.
The path led down to flat plateau and the ruins of an ancient city. Made largely of white marble, the fallen masonry looked like the bleached skeleton of some massive creature. The Red Prince led them towards an open area, whose floor was covered in mosaics in strange and alien designs. For a moment, it seemed everything was empty, there city a mausoleum to the fallen culture; but quickly and horribly they became aware that they were not alone. All around them were ghostly shapes that faded in and out of view. They called in an incomprehensible tongue, reaching out with ethereal hands that passed through their flesh.
Up ahead, standing by a fallen marble pillar, was a different sort of creature. This one was still solid, but his body was clearly no less dead. Half of his face had sloughed away, revealing his jaw, so he had a perpetual, if horrific, smile. He wore rusted armour decorated with strange symbols and clothes made of purple cloth that rotted on his frame. Beneath these, his body was wizened, wasted where there was flesh and skeletal where there was none. This, then, was the last Sithi, waiting patiently to perform his duty.
He stood, both hands resting on the hilt of his massive sword, head bent. At their approach, he looked up, fixing yellow, almost feline eyes upon them. There was hunger in those eyes, like a starving man seeing food once again. How long had he stood there in the night, long after his body should have decayed away, waiting to fulfil the revenge of his race? Could he remember anything from his former life or had all that faded away to be replaced by his single dark purpose?
The Red Prince turned the guards and bade them wait here. Then he took Summer and walked down towards the Sithi warrior, who raised one hand in salutation. He seemed to have forgotten Zephyr and Amari entirely.
“What do we do?” Amari demanded. “We've got to stop him.”
“How? If we try to stop the old man, that big guy is going to stop us. We'll never get Summer and get out of the darkness before he can catch up with us.”
“We can't have come this far to give up. There has to be something.”
Zephyr closed his eyes, struggling to remember anything useful. He thought back to what the Red Prince had told him in the castle, before he had finished the blood tattoo and suddenly he had the answer.
“I know what to do!” He stood up quickly and looked down at her, eyes shining. Amari said nothing, but stared back in confusion. “You remember the song you were singing, the first time it started snowing?”
She nodded. “The prayer for a lost child. What about it?”
“We have to sing it. Now.”
“What? How is that going to help?”
“We have to pray to him.” He was starting to walk down the slope towards the gathered figures. The guards were still immobile, unseeing. None of the figures by the fallen pillar were paying him any attention.
“But Zephyr, we don't know what Summer is. How do we know praying will have any effect?”
“I don't think it matters what he is. The important thing is we believe in him. Come on, Songbird, trust me please. We don't have much time.”
And we don't have a better idea, she thought. She took his proffered hand and side by side they walked down to the assembled Sithi. I can barely believe I'm doing this. Here I am, walking through the darkness, towards the undying Sithi and what may or may not be them embodiment of the Sun, and I'm about to sing to them. The whole situation seemed so surreal she was afraid she might start laughing rather than singing when she opened her mouth.
She heard his voice join with hers, not strong but in tune at least. She was wondering what had caused this sudden change in skill when she heard a third voice: Saffron's lilting soprano. Amari thought it must be an effect of the blood magic, when she saw over Zephyr's shoulder, Saffron walking with them. As she turned and saw Jack beside her, his booming bass adding to the chorus, she realised what was happening.
This was an illusion: Zephyr's magic. There were more and more people around them, their voices joined in the same Folk prayer. Here was a young woman with a face full of dimples and freckles; behind her Martin and James from Riverra. Over there a little girl with long dark hair and wide, haunted eyes walked near a frail woman with flaming hair and amethyst eyes. Soon there appeared to be hundreds, thousands even, all walking forward, bound by the beat. Was this was the church was afraid of? People united by song? Amari had to admit to herself that an army in full song, marching to the same beat would be pretty intimidating.
The Sithi had noticed them now. The faded, translucent figures were wailing, their ethereal hands clamped to their temples. But this was not enough to drown out the music. The solid, skeletal figure was coming towards them, that mighty great sword held aloft. As he walked, he left a trail of dust, rotting fabric and flakes of necrotic flesh. When he reaches us it's all over, Amari thought. We cannot defeat him. As the terrifying creature bore down on them, she noticed Summer, on his feet now and watching them too.
The Sithi warrior was only a few paces away now, but Amari did not let her voice falter. Even if she could not save Summer, even if all of this was worthless in the end, she would die on her feet and she would die trying. She looked across at Zephyr, and wondered if he too was thinking about their death. His eyes were open and he seemed to be staring past her towards Summer. She followed his gaze and saw something she had not expected - a source of light. Summer's body was glowing, a brilliant and harsh light that pushed back at the insidious darkness. The light was getting blinding and she had to put up her hands to cover her eyes. Suddenly Zephyr broke off his song with a cry and pushed her to the ground, covering her body with his. There was a vivid flash that seared through her eyelids, then silent, choking blackness.
An unpleasant burning sensation in her lungs made Amari realise she was holding her breath. She took a deep breath and, while keeping her eyes tightly shut, she took stock of herself. She was definitely still alive, and apparently uninjured, but there was a weight across her chest.
Zephyr!
She rolled out from underneath him and knelt at his side. He, too appeared to be uninjured, but his face was ashen, and his lips had a dangerously blue tint. Amari felt her heart skip a beat.
“Wake up!” Her voice sounded weak, a paltry timorous thing in the vast oppressive night. “Wake up, damn you!”
There was no sound. Even the wind seemed to have dropped completely. Amari had never felt quite so alone, as if she was the only thing left alive. She dared not look around her, to see if any of the Sithi remained, or Summer, or the red prince. She dared not take her eyes off Zephyr, in case she should look back and find him gone. She was holding her breath again, her chest painfully tight.
There were dark shapes passing in front of her eyes when he took a shaky breath and opened his eyes. Amari felt her body go weak with relief. Zephyr sat up slowly, one hand pressed his temple, but a smile playing on his lips.
“We're alive,” he murmured.
“Seems that way,” she agreed. “Though I wasn't sure about you for a moment there.”
The smile widened. “I guess that was more magic that I've ever done before. I probably shouldn't do that again in a hurry.”
“You won't need to,” she replied, looking around. “We won. All the Sithi are gone."
He followed her gaze. There was no sign of the fading Sithi ghosts; every one seemed to have vanished. Where the skeletal warrior had last stood was now only a pile of dust and rags, with an ancient and rusty sword sat on the top. He laughed and Amari joined in, her previous fear melted away and replaced by a dizzying sense of elation.
“We did it! We really did it!”
“You did it,” Amari corrected softly. “It was your idea.”
He shook his head. “Couldn't have done it without you, Songbird.”
“But how did you know?”
“That it would work? I didn't, not really. I just remembered what the old man said, about Summer being the aspect of what people believed about the Sun and I thought maybe I could use that.”
“Summer!” Amari stood up and looked around. The previous elation had faded to a cold chill. She found the body quickly; a small child slumped against a fallen marble pillar. His face was the same as she remembered, but his hair was a normal, human, mousey brown colour. She felt Zephyr's hand on her shoulder. “I couldn't send him home.”
“I don't know. I think maybe we did, the part that was Summer at least. This poor kid, the host, I don't know if he ever stood a chance.”
She shook her head. “This still doesn't make much sense to me. So the old man took this boy and did something to him, to bind the power of the Sun in a human body and bring it here so the waiting Sithi could gain their freedom.”
“That's the way I understand it,” he agreed. “But what I don't get is if Summer did have the power of the Sun, why he allowed this to happen? I mean, why take the risk that the Sithi might win?”
“Maybe he had to,” Amari said thoughtfully. “Maybe the Sun has no power here on the dark side, normally. So he had to contrive a way to get round that. Maybe the Sithi prophesy was merely a way to ensure that if they ever tried to regain their power, they'd sign their own death sentence.”
Zephyr thought about this for a moment. “That's kind of horrible, don't you think?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.” A movement caught her eye and she turned to the Red Prince climbing to his feet. “What are we going to do about him?”
“We'll have to take him with us, I guess.”
“He might need some persuading.”
The man was looking around him wildly, calling out in a strange language. When he saw the body of the young boy lying near his feet he threw back his head and roared with rage. He picked up the Sithi great sword that was all that remained of the last warrior and began to stride towards them.
“I'll go,” Zephyr said. “He won't hurt me. He can't.”
Amari held him back. “I'm not sure he knows that any more. He looks like a man possessed. No, stay here. It's my turn.”
She took one of the swords from the motionless guards. Without any orders from their master, they were nothing more than puppets. Then she walked resolutely down to meet the Red Prince and her fate.
The man fought like a cornered animal, wildly and without thought. Though the sword in his hand had been made for a creature over seven feet tall he wielded it as if it was made of nothing more than paper. Intimidating as he appeared, Amari realised that his berserker nature was the key to his downfall. He was not fighting with any skill or strategy, just a desire for death. She just had to fend off the blows long enough to get that inevitable opening. To the song of metal on metal, Amari began to dance.
“Amari! No!”
The sound of his voice dragged her back to full consciousness. She had become lost in her dance; acting on well-honed instincts. With sickening horror she realised she had her arm drawn back for the killing blow. If I kill him, I kill Zephyr, she thought. Paralysed by her mistake she saw the great sword coming towards her, but could not force her body to move. Suddenly, she felt a shove and her body hit the ground. The sword flew out of her hand, landing with a metallic clang a short distance away. She looked up and saw a sight that made her blood run cold. Zephyr had pushed her out of the way, but had not been able to avoid the blow himself. The Sithi great sword had run him through.
The Red Prince dropped his weapon and fell to the ground, weeping and gibbering. Amari caught Zephyr as he fell.
“Summer!” She screamed into the darkness. “Where are you? You have to help him!”
“He's gone,” Zephyr whispered. “I think you were right: the Sun has no power here.”
“But you saved him. He can't let you die here after all we've been through.”
Zephyr shook his head. “It's okay, Songbird. I've been thinking, I've been thinking about this for a while now. I've made my peace. It has to be this way. As long as he's alive,” he gestured to the sobbing Red Prince, “then he'll keep trying. It's best that he doesn't get another chance to cause any more damage.”
Amari said nothing, but gripped his hand as if she could hold his spirit in place by shear force of will.
“Songbird? Before I go, I want you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“No, you have to promise me. I need your word on it.”
Her expression darkened. “Very well. By name and by kin, and with the sky as my witness, I swear to do this thing you ask of me.”
She was angry, he thought. That was a powerful promise, a swear that should not be needed between two people who shared what they had. But it was necessary, and if she was angry now...
“Zephyr? What is it? What do you want me to do?”
“Live.”
That single word with all its meaning took a moment to sink in.
“What? Wh-what do you mean?” Amari stammered, though she knew in her heart.
“I want you to live, Songbird. Live out your full life. I know you; know what you're thinking. You think I'm gone; the Folk have moved on; that there's nothing left for you. You're planning to fall on your sword. Well, I won't have it. I didn't save the world for it to go on without you. I want you to travel; fall in love again; have little heathen babies. Live.”
“You can't ask that of me,” she murmured. “What if I hate you because of it?”
“That's okay. You have to be alive to hate.”
“I can't accept this. All my adult life I've been searching for something: a place I could call home. Somewhere I belonged, that I could be myself. I finally realise that it wasn't a place I was needed, but a person. And now you're leaving me again.”
“We found each other before. We'll see each other again. Promise.”
“Promise.” She closed her eyes, blinking out the burning tears. When she opened them again, he was dead.
How long she spent cradling his body against hers, she could not tell. The torches had long gone out, but she found she was not afraid any more. She felt hollow, an empty shell of her former self. Eventually she dried her eyes and stood up. She laid the body of the boy who had once been Summer at Zephyr's side and began her death-song. Her wordless, passionate grief wound through the ruins of the Sithi city, over the dark plains and out to the stars.
There was no wood, and the dry ground was too hard to dig, so she covered with bodies with a cairn of rubble from the fallen city. White marble and black granite made a fitting tomb. She had never learned to write, so could not carve any kind of marker. Instead she left the violin at the head of the cairn. She took the small wooden flute for herself though. Her hands were cut and bleeding, her clothes torn and her heart broken but, because she had given her word, Amari turned her back on the grave and began her lonely walk back to the sunlight.
n the endless depths of the universe, there is a planet, locked in orbit around a swollen and ancient sun. On the surface of this world, half exists in perceptual light, the other in endless darkness. Near the border of night and day, there are three small kingdoms, known as the Free Kingdoms. And somewhere there, you may find a woman who rides a black horse. She does not trust easily, but if you earn her approval in anyway, she may sing you her tale, her life's work and her life's pain: The Ballad of Zephyr Stormchaser.
Well, first draft at least. There's plenty that needs changing and expanding on, I'm sure of that. I'm about 20,000 words short of what I was hoping to finish on, so I'm hoping to find a few bits to pad out considerably. I think the way I have written is pretty much the way I play RPGs - push through the plot the first time, and then replay to get more of the side quests and hidden stuff. Hopefully I'll be able to do that with the story as well.
As a dyslexic I suck balls when it comes to technical editing on my work. Things that are blatantly wrong I will tend to read as correctly and not notice the mistakes. I'm also aware that as the writer, I'm intimately involved with the characters and plot so sometimes things seem obvious to me that really aren't to the reader. As such, I'd really appreciate any offers of editing. You can either read it online, I can email you a soft copy or print you out a hard one if you would prefer.
Anyway - here is the last part. I've included the ending again for completion's sake.
Two men stood at the crossroads, waiting. After a moment, one turned to the other.
“Remind me again, my friend, why we are standing out here in the snow and not back in our tents where it’s at least slightly warmer?”
“Because the queen of Marin said I sould wait here.”
“The queen of Marin is a mad woman, Luca! Everyone knows that. What if this whole thing has been an elaborate play? Support Michael Forystin’s claim; lend him troops; then cripple his commanders by making them stand at a cross-roads until they get frostbite.”
Luca Thaan sighed. “She’s not mad. Or rather, she probably is, but she’s not always mad. That’s the important thing. If you had ever met her you’d understand. When she tells you the things she has seen, it’s like there’s nothing more true than her words. You just cannot disbelieve her. You’re my friend Robbie, you trust me don’t you?”
“I trust you, Luca. I’m not sure I trust the words of a foreign queen who would take me away from my food and fire. Okay, okay,” he added, seeing he would not shake his friend's faith.
“What exactly are we looking out for?”
“She said if we wait here, we’ll meet a man travelling with two of the Folk, and he’ll be able to help us. That’s the gist of it at least.”
“Well, who ever it is, they had better be leading a pretty decent army. Even with the men the Queen has lent us I’m not sure we can win this fight, Luca.”
“Quiet, someone’s coming.”
Further down the road three figures had come into view. Amari spotted the waiting Dresrin soldiers about the same time they spotter her. Instantly wary, she moved her horse ahead so she was between her friends and the men ahead. Without taking her eyes off them, she unhooked her crossbow.
“Hail!” Luca called.
“Who are you? What do you want with us?” She demanded.
“My name is Luca Thaan, and my companion is Robbie Allan, the Viscount of Seaforge. This is going to sound strange, but we were waiting for you. At least, I think it’s you that we’re waiting for.”
“Who sent you?”
“Queen Miranda of Marin. She said you would be able to help.”
Zephyr looked up. “Miranda sent you?”
“I don’t like this,” Amari muttered, speaking in the Folk tongue to hide her words from the strangers. “We should get out of here.”
Zephyr shook his head. “If Miranda sent them, she must have some good reason for doing it. Let's at least see what they want.” He turned to Luca Thaan. “What exactly is it we can help you with?”
“Before that, just who are you? You seem pretty familiar with the queen, but I've never heard of anyone like you.”
“Well, you see, I'm... I'm...” He sighed. Suddenly all the lies and false persona seemed distasteful. “I’m her brother, sort of.” To his surprise, the Dresrin noble nodded as if he understood.
“I see. So this is a favour for her in return for recognition of legitimacy, correct? That makes sense. I guess the next important question is how many sword do you have?”
Zephyr, already confused, looked down. “Only the one.”
“No, I mean how many...” Luca stopped as he realised the truth. “It's just the three of you, isn't it? You don't actually have any men at your command, do you?”
He shook his head. “Did Miranda say we would?”
“No. I just assumed that help for a battle would come in the form of more soldiers. How stupid of me!” He laughed bitterly. “Maybe you were right, Robbie. Maybe the queen is just having a joke at our expense.”
“Miranda isn't like that,” Zephyr said softly. “If she said we could help, then she genuinely thinks we can. Why don't you at least explain the situation to us? That can't hurt, can it?”
Luca looked at his friend, who shrugged. He sighed. “Very well. Follow me.”
He led them down the road out of the trees to an open plain where an army was camped in front of a dark and imposing castle. Beyond it was the mountain range that marked the border between day and night.
“That's the Night-Fort,” Luca was saying. “It's the oldest castle in Dresrin. Traditionally, it watches the mountains, our first line of defence against anything that comes from the night. These days the watch is small and symbolic, but the castle is always well stocked and well maintained; the walls are as strong as they were when they were first built. It might seem silly to anyone who hasn't lived here, but in Dresrin the night is always at our back and we can never forget that fact. Anyway, the history isn't really important; what's important is who is in there at the moment.”
“And who is that?”
“The man who took the country and murdered our king. He's holed up in there with a force of paladins, but we know it's only a fraction of his forces. Now is our best chance to defeat him. He's trapped with an inferior force and we have fresh fighters from Marin. Not only that, but it turns out that Michael Forystin, the crown prince, survived the attack. Previously there was always the risk that even with we destroyed the invader, we'd just end up with a power struggle. Now we have someone legitimate to place on the throne.”
“So what's the problem?”
“We can't break their defences. The castle is strong, really strong. It's designed to stand against anything that might come from the evils of the night after all. And the men who defend it are almost as inhuman. They don't seem to feel pain, or get tired. They go down to swords and axes eventually, but by the time one of them falls, there are ten or twenty of ours are one the ground. And while we have the advantage in a siege, we don't know how much time we have. If the rest of his army comes before we have broken through, we don't stand a chance. So you can see why I was a little disappointed to discover you weren't the help I was expecting.”
Zephyr smiled. “I can imagine. But I think I can help. Seems to me the best solution is to get a small force inside, to get the doors open and if possible take out the invader when he's not expecting it.”
“Well, yes. That would be ideal, but unless you know a way to turn men invisible I'm not sure how that would be possible.”
He pointed southwards, towards a small coppice a mile or so away. “See those trees? Down there is the entrance to a tunnel that leads all the way to the castle. I guess they wanted to be sure that if something did break through from the dark side that they'd have the chance to get a warning out to the rest of the country. As time passed and they stopped taking the watch so seriously the tunnels probably faded from memory.”
“And the tunnel is still clear and usable?” Luca asked, a note of obvious excitement in his voice.
“It's obviously not what it was, but it was okay about a year ago. Of course, if they've discovered the entrance inside the castle we could be in trouble, but I think it's worth trying.”
Luca nodded. “An assassination team. It could work. Very well. Over there is my tent. Wait here for me. I need to discuss this with a few people.”
As soon as they were alone in the tent Amari turned on Zephyr.
“Are you mad? What are doing helping these people?” She was still talking in her native language, making no attempt to lower her voice.
Zephyr looked away. “I don’t know. It just, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Look, we found him didn’t we? And if he’s in there then Summer is too. If we had kept on walking we might never have known he was so close. If we get some help getting him out, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“Have you forgotten? You told us that the man in that castle's life is inextricably linked to yours. When they find him they won't just kill him, they'll be killing you too.”
He sat down, putting his head in his hands. “I know. I know. I didn't think he'd accept my idea just like that. I was hoping he'd let us go in alone, at least at first.”
“Well he might yet,” Jack cut in. “We don't know what he's going to decide. Besides we can't be certain anything that man told you is the truth, Zephyr. I mean, two lives bound by blood, it seems a little far-fetched to me.”
“Any more than little blue-haired boys; snow in summer or people rising from the dead?” Amari retorted. “I think the definition of far-fetched has been changed a bit by recent events.”
Jack knelt down and poked the fire, stoking the flames and sending a shower of sparks rising up from the embers. “Don’t worry lad, we’ll think of something. We just need to come up with a reason for them to keep him alive.”
“Do you think they’ll listen to us?”
“No,” he replied thoughtfully, “but they might listen to Michael. And I think I can convince him.” He stood up, an idea forming in his head. It would not be pleasant, but sometimes a man had to do what was required of him, rather than what he wanted. “You two wait here; try and get some rest. I suggest we don't hang around any longer than we have to.”
Without waiting for any further questions he stepped outside the tent. The snow had started up again, and a bitter wind pierced his clothes. Shading his eyes against the weather, Jack looked until he spotted what had to be Michael’s tent. It was larger than the others around it, the flag of the Forystin family flying prominently, black and gold striking against the white sky. Two guards stood to stiff attention at the entrance. Jack approached them slowly.
“Who goes there?”
“I’m a friend of the prince. I’ve come to pay my regards.”
“I don’t think so. What would someone like you know of the prince?” There was a definite sneer to his voice.
“Look, just tell him Jack Jenner is outside. If he sends me away so be it. But he’ll be annoyed if he finds you’ve kept a genuine guest out in the cold and I know what a temper the young prince has.”
The two guards looked at each other and shrugged. One headed into the tent and came out a minute later, holding the entrance open for Jack.
Inside, he saw Michael slumped on a fur draped chair before a fire. He looked up as Jack approached and his expression widened with surprise.
“Jack! It is you! I was sure there was some mistake when they said you were outside. What are you doing here? Are the others with you?” he added cautiously.
“Aye. Well, Zephyr and Amari are. Saffron… I’m afraid poor Saffron is no longer is with us.”
“Did something happen?”
“Yes, it did. We were arrested in Serpent’s Gate. Don’t ask me how we were able to get away, because I’m still not sure of that myself, but it wasn’t without casualties.” He studied Michael’s face carefully, waiting for his reaction.
“I never…I never…” he stammered. “I mean, I never expected anything like that would ever happen.”
“Really? Because the rest of us were sure it was only a matter of time before we were arrested.”
“I suppose so. But Saffron’s dead? Damn, he lied to me again.”
“Who?” Jack enquired.
“Er, Zephyr, of course,” Michael said quickly, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “He promised he’d take care of everyone.”
“Here, dry your eyes.” Jack handed him a slightly grubby handkerchief. “Saffron wouldn’t want you to cry for her. She was such a brave lass. Remember her as she was, not her fate.”
Michael blew his nose loudly. “Is that why you came here? To tell me about her?”
Jack’s suspicions had been confirmed by Michael’s actions. Now all he needed was a chance. “I thought you had a right to know. But I also came here to ask a favour and give you some advice.”
Michael settled back in his chair and gestured to Jack to take the one next to him. “Go on.”
Jack took the chair gratefully. He paused, thinking over his words carefully. They could be the most important he had ever spoken: so much rested on convincing Michael to do two things.
“The man in the castle, the invader, you cannot allow him to die. Not for a while yet. I can’t say why,” he continued, holding up his hand as Michael started to speak, “and I doubt you’d believe me if I could, but I wouldn’t be asking it if it wasn’t vitally important. You know there is something very wrong with the world, and he’s at the centre of it. If he dies the results could be tragic.”
Michael nodded. “I believe you, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to convince anyone else. After everything that has happened, well, there’s a strong desire for blood here.”
“You have to convince them,” Jack urged. “The world cannot be allowed to suffer because a prince could not control his subjects. But just how much influence can you have? Even now your commanders are meeting, discussing strategy while you sit here alone. You need to be careful lad: you might have a useful role now, but if anyone feels you are no longer useful they’ll look to replace you.”
Michael paled visibly.
“Which brings me my advice. We’re going to sneak into to castle shortly; I think you should come with us.”
“Me? Why? What could I do?”
“Well, it could seriously improve your standing here, if you play your cards right. Imagine the scene: the defences have been breached, your army has made its way through the last fighters and at the end they find you waiting for them; the invader a prisoner at your feet. Wouldn't that show you were worthy for the throne? Isn't that the sort of thing they'll talk about long after you are dead?”
Michael nodded, picturing the scene clearly in his mind. “Yes, yes indeed!”
“Hold your horses, lad, you haven't beaten him yet! First you've got to convince your men that the invader must kept alive and that you yourself should come with us into the castle. If you can't do those two things, then you will never be the king you think you should be.” He stood up. “I trust I will see you later.”
He made the short walk through the snow and back to the tent where Zephyr and Amari where waiting for him.
“Well?” she demanded almost as soon as he had entered. “Did you talk to him? Did he agree?”
“I think so. Michael's a fairly easy person to manipulate. He's easily frightened, but has a high opinion of himself. Play on his fear and vanity and it's easy to mould his thoughts to yours.” He caught Amari's expression and saw she found idea more than a little distasteful. “We'll know if I have succeeded when he turns up to join us.”
“You can't be serious?” Amari was horrified. “Jack, Michael is probably the one who set us up in Serpent's Gate. Now you want to give him another chance?”
“Michael knows who we are. If he wants to sell us out then we are not getting out of this camp. Something Zephyr might have been wise to consider before he volunteered our services,” he added pointedly. “Still, what is done is done and I think I have convinced Michael that his best interests lie with ours at the moment. Partly that's why I want him with us so I can keep an eye on him. But he must trust us, Amari, believe that we mean him well. You understand this, right?”
“Yes, I know.” She clenched her fist. “I should have never listened to her,” she muttered, wanting to be challenged, but no one noticed.
There was nothing to do then but wait for Luca Thaan to return. Amari was of the opinion that they should not wait at all, but leave and attempt the rescue on their own. Jack disagreed, pointing out that leaving now would look suspicious and if they were caught before they got to the tunnel they might not be able to explain sufficiently. Zephyr left them to it. The slow rising hope he had felt earlier; the idea that maybe they had finally caught a break was gone. Looking down at the intricate rust-coloured design etched in his palm he knew now there were no more breaks. There was here and now, and ahead the rushing, inevitable conclusion. Everything was coming together and within the dark, indefatigable walls of the Night-Fort they would find out how it all ends. Would the sun set forever, plunging the land into the terror of night? Or would they emerge victorious and if so, what exactly did victory entail?
It should have terrified him: that time had run out; that there could be no more running away. But instead there a strange, warm calm that infused him through and through. He would not run even if he could: he was a part of the unfolding events and he would play his role until the end, whatever that might be. He looked across at Amari and knew whatever else, he would save her. She noticed him watching her.
“You seem very calm, all things considered,” she commented.
“I am. One way or another, it all comes down to what happens next. And I want to find out what that is.”
She looked confused for a moment, then smiled. “You’re a strange man, Zephyr Stormchaser.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of Luca Thaan, who was accompanied by Michael. The prince met Jack’s eye, but refused to look straight at either Zephyr or Amari. Jack nodded in approval at his presence.
“Are you ready?” Luca enquired. “The fort is quiet at the moment. We should avoid being noticed if we ride away from camp before heading to the tunnel entrance.”
“Just the five of us?” Amari asked and he nodded.
“It wasn’t how I had planned it, but the prince believes our best chance is with a small team, swift and silent. Once we are in the tunnel, the rest of the forces will renew their assault, making sure the invaders are distracted as we attack from the inside. We need to get the gates open, and if we get a chance to take out their leader so much the better.”
“He is to remain alive though,” Michael added, looking straight at Jack. “I want him to answer for what he has done. Death is too easy.”
Nothing more was said as they rode out of camp and away before swinging round towards the small copse Zephyr has pointed out earlier. Once safe in the shadows of the trees they dismounted. Zephyr stroked Allegro’s nose fondly.
“Goodbye old friend,” he whispered.
He began to pace the open clearing, staring intently at the mossy soil and scuffing at it with his boot until he found what he was looking for: what appeared to be a well cover set in the ground. When the heavy cover was lifted off, there was a dark hole maybe four feet across.
“It’s not as deep as it looks,” Zephyr commented. “The tunnel heads off that way,” he added, pointing in the direction of the fort. He lit a torch and then dropped into the pit. From the light of the flames they could see the sandy floor about eight feet below and the entrance to a passage leading away from them. One by one, they followed him down.
The passage to the fort was only four or so feet high, so they were forced to walk in an uncomfortable crouch. The walls were damp stone, cold and slimy to touch; here and there some had worked loose and fallen onto the sandy path. The bright torches made the darkness either side of them seem even blacker and Amari found herself grateful that she had ended up in the middle of the group.
Eventually the walls of the tunnel changed to become thick slabs of grey stone, and eventually stopped at a bare wall, which had some small cavities carved in at regular intervals.
“This is it,” Zephyr said softly. “Anyone who wants out should turn back now. This is your last chance.”
No one said anything, though Jack could see Michael was pale and trembling slightly.
“No one is giving up, lad. Lead on.”
Zephyr led them up and into another stone gallery. The air here was stale and musty; it felt as old and untouched as the stones themselves.
“We’re in the walls of the fort,” Michael realised.
Zephyr nodded. “We need to go this way, I think.” He walked on, trying to reconcile what he could see with his memories of the place. After a while the gallery joined up with two more. Zephyr paused. “I’m not sure which is the best way to go,” he admitted.
“I thought you knew your way around here!” Luca demanded in an angry whisper.
“I never actually said that. I only pointed out the way in.”
“Why don’t we split up?” Jack suggested. “It was inevitable that we would have to do it eventually. Here is as good a place as any. I’ll go with the prince and Luca here, if you two are going to be all right by yourselves?”
Amari slipped her hand into Zephyr’s. “We’ll be fine. Take care Jack, and thank you for everything.”
“Don’t make it sound so final lass, and don’t you worry about old Jack. Just look after yourselves.”
They both nodded, then Amari led Zephyr off before parting could become more drawn out. Jack looked at the two Dresrin nobles who were to be his companions. He was so close to his final task: there was one thing left to do. The passage ended with a small door that lead out into the fort proper. A corridor with several doors lay before them.
“I’m going to look ahead,” Luca announced.
Jack nodded and let him walk towards the end of the gallery before grabbing Michael by the wrist and pulling him into the closest room before the price could protest. Carefully he bared the door. Outside he heard Luca knock and call out once, but then stopped. Jack was unsure if he had actually been seen, or if he was just aware of the risk of attracting attention.
“Well, there is no sense in worrying; time to focus on the task ahead,” he muttered aloud. “Seems if you want something done you have to do it yourself. He couldn’t, he’d never have it in him. She would, but she’d be too quick. No, when it comes down to it, you’ve got to rely on old Jack.”
“Jack? What are you talking about?” Michael asked. His voice was trembling. “Why are we in here?”
Jack turned around and took satisfaction in watching Michael flinch as he took a step forward. “Because something needs to be done, lad. Something needs to be done about you.”
Michael took a couple of steps backward and found the wall at his back. “I don’t understand! What are you talking about, Jack? You’re scaring me!”
“Scaring you? I’ve barely begun. You can’t get out of this Michael; you need to answer for what you’ve done. But I have no intention of making this quick.”
Michael drew his sword, but his hand was shaking violently. In one fluid motion Jack grabbed his wrist and disarmed him, sending the blade clattering across the floor. Michael tried to duck under Jack’s arm to make a dash for the door, but jack caught him by the collar and threw him bodily into the wall.
“Luca! Luca, where are you! Help me!”
Jack smiled grimly. “I’d be quiet if I were you. You are in the castle of your enemy after all. Do you think if he discovers a Forystin whelp within his walls he’s going to have any qualms about killing you?”
Michael realised he was trapped. He stood no chance of making it to the door, let alone opening it, and there would be no help on the other side even if he could break free. He dropped to his knees on the hard stone floor; hands clasped together and tears in his eyes, he looked up at Jack.
“Please, don’t hurt me!” he begged. “I’m so sorry: I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
“It’s too late for that now,” came the cold reply. “You sold us out; what did you think was going to happen?”
“You don’t understand,” Michael wept. “That man, he bewitched me. I couldn’t help myself!”
“Enough. That’s enough. This ends here.”
He closed his hands around Michael’s throat and began to squeeze. The boy choked, his face turning first red, then purple. His arms beat at Jack feebly then went limp. His eyes were open, but glassy and unseeing; his tongue lolled from his mouth. Satisfied his task was done, Jack let the body fall to the floor.
Jack walked across the room and looked out through the narrow window. He could hear the sounds of the ongoing battle outside and wondered which side was winning. Had anyone managed to open the gate? Despite his earlier words he had little hope that his friends would be victorious. Finding Summer would require a miracle and they had used their fair share of those; escape was inconceivable. He had thought that killing Michael would at least bring a sense of justice, even if they could do nothing about the greater threat, but the deed just left him empty. It was a pitiful ending to a pitiful life that did nothing to atone for the crimes of the past.
He sighed and stretched. It was no use standing here dwelling on the matter. What was done was done and nothing would change that. If he was to meet his end here, so be it, but he would not sit around waiting for death to find him. No, he would find it on his own terms. Feeling composed and resigned, Jack Jenner unbarred the door and walked out to meet his fate.
Further into the fort, Zephyr and Amari were continuing their search for Summer. Hurrying from room to room, throwing doors open left and right they searched through the stronghold. They had thrown aside their caution when it became clear that soldiers here would ignore them. They had been spotted not long after they had split off from Jack and for a heart-stopping it seemed that all was lost. But instead of raising the alarm, the man stared at them for a moment and then carried on past them. It was almost as if he had no idea how to react to their presence so had chosen to do nothing.
Now time was their only enemy. They had to find Summer and the Red Prince before the fighting spilled into the fort and put their lives at risk. They both knew neither would be anywhere near the battle zone, but that still left several hiding places within the building. The fort was featureless and largely symmetrical: it was often hard to work out whether they were somewhere new or somewhere they had already investigated.
Suddenly Amari stopped in front of the door she had just opened. Zephyr heard her quiet gasp and turned to see her standing face to face with the Red Prince. For a moment both of them were frozen in shock at the other’s appearance, but Amari recovered herself first. Unable to risk drawing a weapon on him, she launched herself at the man, sending them both sprawling on the floor. He struggled beneath her, but she had him effectively pinned. Satisfied, she looked up and spotted the four soldiers in the room for the first time.
“Don’t just stand there!” the Red Prince yelled. “Get her!”
From her position on the floor, Amari could not get away fast enough. She tried to stand but the Red Prince grabbed her boot, tripping her. As she fell forwards a soldier stepped forward and delivered a blow that caught her in the temple, leaving her stunned. A second one raised his sword for the killing blow.
“Don’t hurt her!” Zephyr threw himself into the room and in front of Amari’s slumped figure. Behind him she growled.
“Get away you fool!”
The Red Prince had got to his feet by now. With a sigh he gestured to the soldiers.
“Seize them both. If the woman struggles too much knock her out. I don’t have time to deal with any trouble making.”
The closest man grabbed Zephyr, pinning his arms behind his back. The second went to secure Amari but by now she had recovered her wits enough to draw her blades. A single thrust was all she needed to drive the dagger into his throat. Blood spurted out over her hand. She let the body fall to the floor and looked for her next target. The Red Prince was still in the doorway, one soldier still held Zephyr while the remaining two were moving down the room towards her. There was only one option that made sense.
She leapt for the Red Prince, pinning him to the wall. Within an instant her blade was at his throat.
“Call them off,” she hissed, watching the soldiers closely.
“You must know who I am,” he replied quietly. “He must have told you what killing me would mean.”
“Yeah, he told me what you said. That doesn’t mean I believe it. Besides.” She pressed the blade harder against his skin. “He never said anything bad would happen if I just hurt you.”
“Very well, you’ve made your point quite succinctly. But if I could just suggest something?”
She tensed, but he had already grabbed the end of her braid. He pulled hard, yanking her head back and pulling her down so he was staring down into her eyes.
“Long hair doesn’t suit a woman in your occupation. Now, you exhausted my patience. Sleep.”
Amari found the room growing dark. She struggled to fight back against the suggestion, but her eyelids were suddenly too heavy to keep open. Her knees buckled and she slumped to the floor. The Red Prince stepped over her distainfully and stood in front of Zephyr.
“You have disappointed me, boy. I gave not only you but your friends their freedoms. And how do you repay me? By continuing to meddle in my affairs. I see I shall have to keep an eye on you until the deed is done. And once the Sithi are restored and I have my immortality I shall put you out of my misery permanently. Bring him, and bring the woman too. She may be useful if he gets any more bright ideas.”
The soldier bound Zephyr’s hand and pushed him out the room after the Red Prince. Ahead, the man was speaking to another soldier. He was carrying a bundle of something in his arms.
“Is it complete?”
“We’ve just broken through my Lord.”
“At last. I’ve wasted too much time here. The fighting is getting too close for my tastes. I suppose that’s your doing as well, boy? Well, no matter now. It’s too late. This place made a fine sanctuary but it’s time to move on. They are waiting for me.”
He led the way down the corridor and entered another nondescript room. In the middle of this one someone had dug a hole in the centre of the earth floor. A ladder led down into the depths. Two soldiers descended first; one of them carrying the bundle Zephyr had spotted earlier. Then the man behind him pushed him down after them. He landed badly in the dark, stumbling into the wall of the tunnel. Ahead, a torch was lit and he could see a roughly hewn passage stretching ahead, here and there braced clumsily with narrow wooden beams. Compared to the gallery they had used to enter the fort, this one was poor imitation.
After a while the tunnel suddenly became wider, the walls smoother and more refined. In the flickering torchlight, Zephyr noticed something heaped up near the transition point. Curious, he leaned closer to take a better look, then recoiled when he realised it was a human skeleton. No, wait. The skull was too large, with a protruding chin and narrow eye sockets. The wisps of hair that still clung to it were a pale lilac. Not human then.
“You're looking at one of the last Sithi to die,” the Red Prince said softly behind him. There was an almost reverential tone to his voice. “The sunlight was fatal to them, and the darkness killed off their crops and animals. They built this to try and steal into our half of the world, but the last one died before they could reach anything useful. Can you how they must have felt, being reduced to crawling around in the dirt like cockroaches?”
Zephyr said nothing, but something about the fate of the last of the Sithi moved him. Dying alone in the dark with no one left to mourn him was a pitiful end. And human stories about the Sithi branded them as monsters, and given their destiny that was probably true for most, but had they all deserved it?
They walked on for what felt like hours more, passing past more sorry piles of bones scattered on the floor and left untouched for thousands of years. No one spoke. The four guards had said nothing since he had first encountered them, and Amari was still unconscious. Zephyr knew he had no chance to convince his father with words, and alone he was no match for the five of them.
The terrain began to change. No longer was it the straight and cleanly carved tunnel. Now it was becoming clear that they were in a natural passage, though there signs it had been modified: here and there the cavern had been widened; where the path had become steep steps had been carved into the rocks. It rising upwards now, climbing upwards towards the former home of the Sithi.
Finally the became visible again. Zephyr stepped out of the cave and found himself standing on a narrow path high above the plains they had left hours ago. They were on the edge of night here: the sun was a thin curved line of light far away in the distance. The air was cold and the wind was fierce. He pressed his back against the stone face of the mountain. At a word from the Red Prince, one of the guards cut the bonds around his wrists.
“The path is treacherous in places, you will need your hands free. I trust you will not try anything stupid. If we have to knock you unconscious and drag you with us, it will slow us down but we will. I'm going to wake her now; make sure she understands.”
Zephyr knelt beside Amari, and wrapped his arms around her as the Red Prince whispered something in her ear. She woke quickly and he held her tight to prevent any reaction that might put her at risk. She looked around, taking in her current situation and recalling her last memories.
“Where are we?” she asked as he helped her to her feet.
“The end of the world, I think,” he replied.
“We're going into the night, aren't we?” she asked, and there was a tremor in her voice that had nothing to do with the cold wind. He nodded and she paled visibly. “I...I don't know if I can,” she stammered, visibly shaking.
Zephyr squeezed her hand. “Yes you can. I believe in you, Songbird. Just take your time.”
The Red Prince shook his head. “We don't have time for this.”
Zephyr let go of Amari's hand and took a few quick steps backwards. The edge of the cliff path crumbled under his back foot, sending pebbles bouncing down the ravine. Seeing his father open his mouth, Zephyr held up his hand.
“Nobody move or I'll jump.”
“You wouldn't dare!”
“Really? Seems to me it would be a pretty good solution.” He looked over at Amari, who was frozen, a look of fear and horror on her face. “But not an ideal one. So, as long as no one moves, I'll wait here until Songbird is ready to go.”
Amari clenched her fists, feeling her nails bite into her palm. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind whip at her hair, and took a deep breath. She pictured Summer, and the frozen world they had been travelling through. It's down to me, she told herself. Me and him. No one else even understands what is happening. I can't fail now. I made a promise and I can't go back on my word. Not now. Not after all of this. She took another deep breath that did nothing to to quell her shaking and held out her hand to Zephyr.
“I'm ready,”
He clasped it and kissed her forehead.
“He can't win this,” he told her, looking across at his father. “I know this as strongly as I know I love you. I don't know how yet, but we will find a way.”
The Red Prince rolled his eyes, but said nothing to them. Instead he ordered the guards to move on. Walking in single file down the narrow path, the seven humans turned their back on the sunlight and made their way into the dark side of the world.
The path led down to flat plateau and the ruins of an ancient city. Made largely of white marble, the fallen masonry looked like the bleached skeleton of some massive creature. The Red Prince led them towards an open area, whose floor was covered in mosaics in strange and alien designs. For a moment, it seemed everything was empty, there city a mausoleum to the fallen culture; but quickly and horribly they became aware that they were not alone. All around them were ghostly shapes that faded in and out of view. They called in an incomprehensible tongue, reaching out with ethereal hands that passed through their flesh.
Up ahead, standing by a fallen marble pillar, was a different sort of creature. This one was still solid, but his body was clearly no less dead. Half of his face had sloughed away, revealing his jaw, so he had a perpetual, if horrific, smile. He wore rusted armour decorated with strange symbols and clothes made of purple cloth that rotted on his frame. Beneath these, his body was wizened, wasted where there was flesh and skeletal where there was none. This, then, was the last Sithi, waiting patiently to perform his duty.
He stood, both hands resting on the hilt of his massive sword, head bent. At their approach, he looked up, fixing yellow, almost feline eyes upon them. There was hunger in those eyes, like a starving man seeing food once again. How long had he stood there in the night, long after his body should have decayed away, waiting to fulfil the revenge of his race? Could he remember anything from his former life or had all that faded away to be replaced by his single dark purpose?
The Red Prince turned the guards and bade them wait here. Then he took Summer and walked down towards the Sithi warrior, who raised one hand in salutation. He seemed to have forgotten Zephyr and Amari entirely.
“What do we do?” Amari demanded. “We've got to stop him.”
“How? If we try to stop the old man, that big guy is going to stop us. We'll never get Summer and get out of the darkness before he can catch up with us.”
“We can't have come this far to give up. There has to be something.”
Zephyr closed his eyes, struggling to remember anything useful. He thought back to what the Red Prince had told him in the castle, before he had finished the blood tattoo and suddenly he had the answer.
“I know what to do!” He stood up quickly and looked down at her, eyes shining. Amari said nothing, but stared back in confusion. “You remember the song you were singing, the first time it started snowing?”
She nodded. “The prayer for a lost child. What about it?”
“We have to sing it. Now.”
“What? How is that going to help?”
“We have to pray to him.” He was starting to walk down the slope towards the gathered figures. The guards were still immobile, unseeing. None of the figures by the fallen pillar were paying him any attention.
“But Zephyr, we don't know what Summer is. How do we know praying will have any effect?”
“I don't think it matters what he is. The important thing is we believe in him. Come on, Songbird, trust me please. We don't have much time.”
And we don't have a better idea, she thought. She took his proffered hand and side by side they walked down to the assembled Sithi. I can barely believe I'm doing this. Here I am, walking through the darkness, towards the undying Sithi and what may or may not be them embodiment of the Sun, and I'm about to sing to them. The whole situation seemed so surreal she was afraid she might start laughing rather than singing when she opened her mouth.
She heard his voice join with hers, not strong but in tune at least. She was wondering what had caused this sudden change in skill when she heard a third voice: Saffron's lilting soprano. Amari thought it must be an effect of the blood magic, when she saw over Zephyr's shoulder, Saffron walking with them. As she turned and saw Jack beside her, his booming bass adding to the chorus, she realised what was happening.
This was an illusion: Zephyr's magic. There were more and more people around them, their voices joined in the same Folk prayer. Here was a young woman with a face full of dimples and freckles; behind her Martin and James from Riverra. Over there a little girl with long dark hair and wide, haunted eyes walked near a frail woman with flaming hair and amethyst eyes. Soon there appeared to be hundreds, thousands even, all walking forward, bound by the beat. Was this was the church was afraid of? People united by song? Amari had to admit to herself that an army in full song, marching to the same beat would be pretty intimidating.
The Sithi had noticed them now. The faded, translucent figures were wailing, their ethereal hands clamped to their temples. But this was not enough to drown out the music. The solid, skeletal figure was coming towards them, that mighty great sword held aloft. As he walked, he left a trail of dust, rotting fabric and flakes of necrotic flesh. When he reaches us it's all over, Amari thought. We cannot defeat him. As the terrifying creature bore down on them, she noticed Summer, on his feet now and watching them too.
The Sithi warrior was only a few paces away now, but Amari did not let her voice falter. Even if she could not save Summer, even if all of this was worthless in the end, she would die on her feet and she would die trying. She looked across at Zephyr, and wondered if he too was thinking about their death. His eyes were open and he seemed to be staring past her towards Summer. She followed his gaze and saw something she had not expected - a source of light. Summer's body was glowing, a brilliant and harsh light that pushed back at the insidious darkness. The light was getting blinding and she had to put up her hands to cover her eyes. Suddenly Zephyr broke off his song with a cry and pushed her to the ground, covering her body with his. There was a vivid flash that seared through her eyelids, then silent, choking blackness.
An unpleasant burning sensation in her lungs made Amari realise she was holding her breath. She took a deep breath and, while keeping her eyes tightly shut, she took stock of herself. She was definitely still alive, and apparently uninjured, but there was a weight across her chest.
Zephyr!
She rolled out from underneath him and knelt at his side. He, too appeared to be uninjured, but his face was ashen, and his lips had a dangerously blue tint. Amari felt her heart skip a beat.
“Wake up!” Her voice sounded weak, a paltry timorous thing in the vast oppressive night. “Wake up, damn you!”
There was no sound. Even the wind seemed to have dropped completely. Amari had never felt quite so alone, as if she was the only thing left alive. She dared not look around her, to see if any of the Sithi remained, or Summer, or the red prince. She dared not take her eyes off Zephyr, in case she should look back and find him gone. She was holding her breath again, her chest painfully tight.
There were dark shapes passing in front of her eyes when he took a shaky breath and opened his eyes. Amari felt her body go weak with relief. Zephyr sat up slowly, one hand pressed his temple, but a smile playing on his lips.
“We're alive,” he murmured.
“Seems that way,” she agreed. “Though I wasn't sure about you for a moment there.”
The smile widened. “I guess that was more magic that I've ever done before. I probably shouldn't do that again in a hurry.”
“You won't need to,” she replied, looking around. “We won. All the Sithi are gone."
He followed her gaze. There was no sign of the fading Sithi ghosts; every one seemed to have vanished. Where the skeletal warrior had last stood was now only a pile of dust and rags, with an ancient and rusty sword sat on the top. He laughed and Amari joined in, her previous fear melted away and replaced by a dizzying sense of elation.
“We did it! We really did it!”
“You did it,” Amari corrected softly. “It was your idea.”
He shook his head. “Couldn't have done it without you, Songbird.”
“But how did you know?”
“That it would work? I didn't, not really. I just remembered what the old man said, about Summer being the aspect of what people believed about the Sun and I thought maybe I could use that.”
“Summer!” Amari stood up and looked around. The previous elation had faded to a cold chill. She found the body quickly; a small child slumped against a fallen marble pillar. His face was the same as she remembered, but his hair was a normal, human, mousey brown colour. She felt Zephyr's hand on her shoulder. “I couldn't send him home.”
“I don't know. I think maybe we did, the part that was Summer at least. This poor kid, the host, I don't know if he ever stood a chance.”
She shook her head. “This still doesn't make much sense to me. So the old man took this boy and did something to him, to bind the power of the Sun in a human body and bring it here so the waiting Sithi could gain their freedom.”
“That's the way I understand it,” he agreed. “But what I don't get is if Summer did have the power of the Sun, why he allowed this to happen? I mean, why take the risk that the Sithi might win?”
“Maybe he had to,” Amari said thoughtfully. “Maybe the Sun has no power here on the dark side, normally. So he had to contrive a way to get round that. Maybe the Sithi prophesy was merely a way to ensure that if they ever tried to regain their power, they'd sign their own death sentence.”
Zephyr thought about this for a moment. “That's kind of horrible, don't you think?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.” A movement caught her eye and she turned to the Red Prince climbing to his feet. “What are we going to do about him?”
“We'll have to take him with us, I guess.”
“He might need some persuading.”
The man was looking around him wildly, calling out in a strange language. When he saw the body of the young boy lying near his feet he threw back his head and roared with rage. He picked up the Sithi great sword that was all that remained of the last warrior and began to stride towards them.
“I'll go,” Zephyr said. “He won't hurt me. He can't.”
Amari held him back. “I'm not sure he knows that any more. He looks like a man possessed. No, stay here. It's my turn.”
She took one of the swords from the motionless guards. Without any orders from their master, they were nothing more than puppets. Then she walked resolutely down to meet the Red Prince and her fate.
The man fought like a cornered animal, wildly and without thought. Though the sword in his hand had been made for a creature over seven feet tall he wielded it as if it was made of nothing more than paper. Intimidating as he appeared, Amari realised that his berserker nature was the key to his downfall. He was not fighting with any skill or strategy, just a desire for death. She just had to fend off the blows long enough to get that inevitable opening. To the song of metal on metal, Amari began to dance.
“Amari! No!”
The sound of his voice dragged her back to full consciousness. She had become lost in her dance; acting on well-honed instincts. With sickening horror she realised she had her arm drawn back for the killing blow. If I kill him, I kill Zephyr, she thought. Paralysed by her mistake she saw the great sword coming towards her, but could not force her body to move. Suddenly, she felt a shove and her body hit the ground. The sword flew out of her hand, landing with a metallic clang a short distance away. She looked up and saw a sight that made her blood run cold. Zephyr had pushed her out of the way, but had not been able to avoid the blow himself. The Sithi great sword had run him through.
The Red Prince dropped his weapon and fell to the ground, weeping and gibbering. Amari caught Zephyr as he fell.
“Summer!” She screamed into the darkness. “Where are you? You have to help him!”
“He's gone,” Zephyr whispered. “I think you were right: the Sun has no power here.”
“But you saved him. He can't let you die here after all we've been through.”
Zephyr shook his head. “It's okay, Songbird. I've been thinking, I've been thinking about this for a while now. I've made my peace. It has to be this way. As long as he's alive,” he gestured to the sobbing Red Prince, “then he'll keep trying. It's best that he doesn't get another chance to cause any more damage.”
Amari said nothing, but gripped his hand as if she could hold his spirit in place by shear force of will.
“Songbird? Before I go, I want you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“No, you have to promise me. I need your word on it.”
Her expression darkened. “Very well. By name and by kin, and with the sky as my witness, I swear to do this thing you ask of me.”
She was angry, he thought. That was a powerful promise, a swear that should not be needed between two people who shared what they had. But it was necessary, and if she was angry now...
“Zephyr? What is it? What do you want me to do?”
“Live.”
That single word with all its meaning took a moment to sink in.
“What? Wh-what do you mean?” Amari stammered, though she knew in her heart.
“I want you to live, Songbird. Live out your full life. I know you; know what you're thinking. You think I'm gone; the Folk have moved on; that there's nothing left for you. You're planning to fall on your sword. Well, I won't have it. I didn't save the world for it to go on without you. I want you to travel; fall in love again; have little heathen babies. Live.”
“You can't ask that of me,” she murmured. “What if I hate you because of it?”
“That's okay. You have to be alive to hate.”
“I can't accept this. All my adult life I've been searching for something: a place I could call home. Somewhere I belonged, that I could be myself. I finally realise that it wasn't a place I was needed, but a person. And now you're leaving me again.”
“We found each other before. We'll see each other again. Promise.”
“Promise.” She closed her eyes, blinking out the burning tears. When she opened them again, he was dead.
How long she spent cradling his body against hers, she could not tell. The torches had long gone out, but she found she was not afraid any more. She felt hollow, an empty shell of her former self. Eventually she dried her eyes and stood up. She laid the body of the boy who had once been Summer at Zephyr's side and began her death-song. Her wordless, passionate grief wound through the ruins of the Sithi city, over the dark plains and out to the stars.
There was no wood, and the dry ground was too hard to dig, so she covered with bodies with a cairn of rubble from the fallen city. White marble and black granite made a fitting tomb. She had never learned to write, so could not carve any kind of marker. Instead she left the violin at the head of the cairn. She took the small wooden flute for herself though. Her hands were cut and bleeding, her clothes torn and her heart broken but, because she had given her word, Amari turned her back on the grave and began her lonely walk back to the sunlight.
n the endless depths of the universe, there is a planet, locked in orbit around a swollen and ancient sun. On the surface of this world, half exists in perceptual light, the other in endless darkness. Near the border of night and day, there are three small kingdoms, known as the Free Kingdoms. And somewhere there, you may find a woman who rides a black horse. She does not trust easily, but if you earn her approval in anyway, she may sing you her tale, her life's work and her life's pain: The Ballad of Zephyr Stormchaser.