Blood flowed freely from the wound running up her abdomen and across her chest; entrails showed through the split skin. Her eyes were glassy, her face pale but peaceful.
“Khirro.” Her voice held little strength. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“No,” he said brushing stray hairs from her sweaty forehead.
She nodded slightly. “Good. And the king?”
“I think he is within me.”
“Two great men in one.” She smiled as best she could and drew a shuddering breath. Khirro heard it bubble in her chest. Blood ran from her nose into her mouth and the smile vanished. A shiver wracked her body. “I’m cold, Khirro.”
He removed his tunic and laid it across her but she continued to shiver.
“Athryn,” he called over his shoulder. He felt the magician’s presence close beside him. “Help us.”
Athryn knelt beside Elyea and took her hand in both of his. Khirro looked at him and saw the scar was gone from his face. The magician said nothing, only squeezed her hand.
“Thank you,” Elyea said and closed her eyes.
Khirro felt his heart skip. He reached out and took her other hand, ignoring the sticky blood covering it.
“Do something, Athryn.” There was a tone of command in his voice he’d never heard there before, but the magician didn’t move. “Save her.”
Athryn shook his head. “There is nothing I can do. Only the Necromancer-”
“The Necromancer’s dead,” Khirro shouted, cutting him off. “You’re the only one.” The magician continued to shake his head without meeting Khirro’s eyes. “Damn you, Athryn. You can-”
Elyea squeezed his hand, her grip so weak he barely felt it, but it stopped him mid-sentence. He looked into her green eyes, the glimmer they normally held all but gone. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“No, Khirro. It’s all right.” She forced a smile that quickly became a cringe. “This is why I came.”
Her labored breathing made every word a struggle. Khirro wanted to make her stop, to tell her she’d be all right, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her.
“My whole life I’ve done what was easiest with no thought of myself or others. Finally, I’ve done something because it was the right thing to do. Please remember me that way. Let me take that with me to the fields of the dead. And the memory of you.”
Khirro stroked the back of her hand. “But you could be with me. We could have a life for both of us, leave the old ones behind.”
“I’d like that, but I think the future has more in store for you than making a life with a whore.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s what I am. What I was.” A cough shook her and sent fresh blood flowing from her chest and mouth. “The fate of the kingdom is within you now.”
“You are brave,” Athryn said. “There is a special place waiting for you on the other side. Give Maes my love.”
She tried to turn her head toward him but failed.
“You’re whole again.” He lifted her hand and stroked her fingers across his now smooth cheek. “More than whole. Don’t underestimate who you are, Athryn.”
He nodded, lay her hand gently on Khirro’s and rose, leaving them alone. Elyea’s eyes moved back to Khirro and the smile struggled back to her lips.
“You will have a great life, Khirro. I’m honored to have loved you.”
The smile faded and her eyelids drooped, then closed. The bubbling sound from her chest stopped.
“It’s I who am honored,” Khirro whispered. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead then bowed his head.
The low mist appeared again, tendrils of it twisted along the floor like a translucent white snake. It swirled about them, licked at Khirro’s knees and crawled up Elyea’s body. Cool dew formed on his skin, caressing him, comforting him. When it cleared, Elyea’s corpse still lay before him, her hands in his, but he knew the part that made her Elyea had gone with it, whisked away on misty wings to a place where she’d finally be happy.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Night time.
They didn’t know what time of day it was until they reached the foot of the creaky wooden stairs and saw stars shining down, clear and bright, unobscured by a dragon’s belly. They struggled up the stairs carrying Elyea’s body between them and emerged into a cool autumn evening.
The snow which covered the ground when they entered the catacombs was gone along with the ruby sentinel. As they set her body down, the ground shook briefly, sending Khirro and Athryn’s hands to the hilts of their swords and their gazes scanning the woods. No giant shook the earth this time, no dragon. Instead, the hole in the ground closed behind them like a rapidly healing wound, sealing in its secrets and its dead.
It took them far less time to find their way out of the tunnels than it had to reach their destination despite the grim weight they carried. A dim glow radiated from Khirro like an ember in a dying fire, so they could see better, but the tunnels and the chamber had changed, too. Instead of a huge subterranean room filled with blue light, the chamber was only a widening in the tunnel which ran straighter than before. Khirro wondered how it could be but dismissed the thought quickly. Elyea had been taken from him, there was nothing more to understand.
Khirro and Athryn carefully searched the area around the keep but two lifeless giants, their charred flesh picked at by unseen forest denizens, were the only sign of the ruby dragon. No dragon, no third giant. Under other circumstances, Khirro would have worried, but he felt danger had passed. With no Necromancer, what need was there for a guardian anymore?
They gathered wood for a pyre and lay Elyea and her belongings atop it. Khirro kept one thing aside as a reminder: her dagger. The knife had set her down her life’s path when she stood against her father years ago; a symbol of the strength Khirro admired in her. Perhaps it would lend him some of her strength in the days to come.
Flames danced into the night sky, sparks swirled and twisted into the dark like lightning bugs at play. Khirro couldn’t take his eyes from the body prone at the center of the blaze as wood crackled and spat, her clothing charred and her hair melted. The fire engulfed her, flickering over her skin, and Khirro heaved a shuddering sigh.
It’s only her earthly body. She’s already gone.
He stared at the flames, wondered how he looked when he was aflame and if she carried the memory of Khirro as a burning tyger to the fields of the dead. He hoped not.
Despite how close he stood, Khirro’s body didn’t register the funeral pyre’s heat while Athryn stood behind him to avoid being burned. With his scar healed, Khirro supposed the magician would go to great lengths to keep from being burned again. Would that be possible? They were linked now and a fire burned within Khirro. Could he keep it from engulfing Athryn and anyone else around him?
Could he keep from succumbing to it himself?
When Elyea’s body was reduced to ash and bone and the fire burned down to glowing embers, Athryn put his hand on Khirro’s shoulder.
“We should go.” He wore his mirrored mask despite his face being healed. Khirro wondered why but didn’t ask. “A long journey still lies ahead.”
Khirro didn’t respond, only stared at the remains of the fire. A bone poked out of the ash and he fought the urge to pluck it out, hold it close and cry over it. Such actions wouldn’t bring her back. Nothing would.
“Where will we go?” Khirro asked finally. “I’ve failed. The king is dead. There’s no hope for Erechania.”
“There is hope, Khirro,” Athryn said squeezing his shoulder. “There is you.”
Khirro snorted a laugh lacking humor. “What good to a war is a simple farmer? What good to a kingdom is a man who couldn’t keep his friends alive?” He gestured toward the pile of bone and ash.
“The king is within you. You are much more than you know.”
“I’m not the king. No one would believe our tale, they’d throw us both in the dungeon and think us insane.”