“What do you mean?” Seren asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” the hafling said, waving them away. “It isn’t important.”
“Master Xain!” Pherris called from the helm. “We’re nearly there. Make ready.”
Tristam limped onto the deck, still unsteady on his crutch. He steadied his new sword on his belt as he stared out to the east. The jagged white spires of the Boneyard were already visible.
Eraina, Ijaac, and Omax emerged as well. Eraina stared at Zed for a long moment.
“What?” he asked, looking up at her uncomfortably.
“There is something different about you today, Arthen,” she said. Her eyes moved to his throat. A Silver Flame amulet now hung there openly.
“Just something I picked up in Nathyrr,” he said. His eyes flicked away nervously.
“Of course,” she replied.
“I still cannot believe we’re doing this,” Dalan said, stepping out of his cabin and standing beside Tristam. “I can state without reservation or hyperbole that this is your most ridiculous idea yet, Tristam.”
“It’s your ship, Dalan,” Tristam said. “Order her to turn about if you don’t want to do this. Or scrap her. That’s what you wanted to do back in Sharn, wasn’t it?”
Gerith looked at Dalan curiously, then returned to his course. Dalan’s dark eyes flicked toward Zed.
“Do not hurl my words at me out of context,” Dalan said. “From the very start of this, Zamiel’s hunger for the Legacy has caused no end of violence and pain. We could dismantle Karia Naille’s core, release her elemental to return to its home world, and bind a new one. The ship would still fly but the Legacy would be no more. Zamiel’s plans would be halted and we wouldn’t be throwing our lives away attacking a dragon.”
Aeven turned her cool gaze on them from the bow of the ship. “Karia Naille feels privileged to share in our adventures,” the dryad said, “but she would like nothing more than to be rejoined with her sisters.”
“There! Even Aeven agrees with me for once!” Dalan said. “We can still turn the ship around, Tristam.”
Tristam ran a nervous hand through his hair as he stared at the Boneyard. “What do you think, Zed?” he asked, looking at the inquisitive.
Zed coughed on his pipe, surprised that Tristam had asked for his opinion. “Hard to say,” Zed said, gathering his thoughts. “If that prophecy you read was a fake, then Dalan is right. We’re probably better off dismantling the Legacy and making Zamiel start from scratch. We don’t even know what he can do. Remember how tough Mercheldethast was? He was a baby compared to Zamiel.”
“This is what I’m talking about!” Gerith shouted fiercely, rising to his feet. His eyes glistened with tears. “I started this adventure because I was looking for a great story to tell my grandfather-but now I know I’ll never find it. Real stories don’t have happy endings. We fought Marth. We stopped him-but people still died. I saw them falling in Skyway. I heard them screaming for help … but I couldn’t help. It’s always been the same. For every victory, there’s a tragedy. For every hero who defeats a villain, there are ten people the hero couldn’t save in time. Now here we are, at the end of this, and we’re going to let Zamiel escape?”
Zed tapped out his pipe on the rail and tucked it back into his coat. Suddenly he didn’t feel much like smoking anymore. The sun finally vanished behind the horizon. Gentle moonlight illuminated the plains.
“It isn’t that simple, Gerith,” Dalan said.
“Oh?” the halfling said, glaring up at the guildmaster. “Why isn’t it, Dalan? It seems pretty simple to me.”
“Gerith is right,” Zed said, standing up straight and steadying his sword over his shoulder. “We have to make a stand.”
Dalan glanced at Zed, looking quizzically at the amulet that hung around his throat. “Peculiar time for you to find your faith, Arthen,” Dalan said. “This is a time for logic, not emotion.”
“No, Dalan,” Zed said fiercely. “This is the perfect time for emotion. Don’t you remember why you got involved in all of this?”
“Because I wanted to claim my uncle’s research for myself and use it to seize control of House Cannith,” the guildmaster said. “I’ve confessed to my reckless ambitions and done my best to atone.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Zed said. “When you learned what Marth was doing, why did you keep hunting him? Seren, when Dalan told you to go home, why did you refuse? Eraina, when your superiors told you that searching for Grove’s murderer was a waste of time, why did you argue?” He looked at each member of the crew. “I could go on with this for each one of you, but the answer is always the same. We’ve all faced times when it would have been easier to stand aside, but we didn’t. Why?”
“Sometimes the worst thing you can do is nothing at all,” Seren said.
“We are close now,” Omax said. All eyes turned to the warforged. “As we draw nearer to the Boneyard, the more certain I am that Markhelm’s journal is at least partially true. I can sense the Timeless, as I could each time the Legacy was activated. Deep in the Boneyard, he stirs. He seeks the missing parts of himself.”
“The power that was released each time the Legacy was used,” Tristam said. “We still don’t know what happened to it.”
“Zamiel has been gathering it, somehow,” Omax said. “I can sense … a swell. The dragon is nearby. He has used the energy he has gathered to draw the veils between the planes wider. He intends to guide the Timeless as it enters this world.”
“And twist it the same way he twists everyone else,” Seren said.
“So it’ll be Marth all over again, but with the power of a god this time,” Ijaac said. “Marvelous.”
“If we’re going to do this, we all need to be together,” Tristam said. “We can still land long enough to drop off anyone who doesn’t want to fight.”
“I’m with you, Tristam,” Zed said.
“As am I,” Omax said. “We cannot allow this to happen.”
“It ends with us, Xain,” Eraina said. “I am with you.”
“I’m still your dwarf, Tristam,” Ijaac said gruffly.
“Me too,” Gerith said. “Well, not a dwarf, but you get the point.”
“Can’t fly the ship without its captain,” Pherris said with a smirk.
“I will help put this right,” Aeven promised. “The ship’s elemental wishes to see this through as well. She does not comprehend the details, but she knows Zamiel is a danger to her friends. Karia Naille only wishes there was a way to fight by your side.”
“Can’t turn back once you start, or you’ll never finish,” Seren said, attempting to smile bravely.
Tristam turned to Dalan.
“I don’t see what help I’ll be,” Dalan said quietly. He plucked the cap from his head and rubbed his eyes with one hand. “I’m just a fat old politician. I’m certainly no hero, and I’m more than a little afraid.” He looked up at Tristam, his gaze steady. “But I’m staying.”
“Good,” Tristam said, smiling broadly.
“So what’s the plan, Tristam?” Zed asked.
Tristam nodded. “If we can’t stop Zamiel, maybe we can at least use the Legacy to close the veils and shut the Timeless away from this plane forever. Omax, can you guide us where we need to go?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure that-” The warforged cocked his head suddenly. His eyes shone bright.
“Omax?” Seren said.
“Beware,” he said.
The airship shook violently with the explosive sound of shattered wood. Zed staggered against the rail, nearly falling overboard. Eraina caught his arm, steadying him.
“Pherris?” Dalan cried out. The guildmaster lay sprawled upon the deck. “What was that?”
“Something hit us,” the gnome said. He struggled with the ship’s controls. Around them, the ship’s elemental ring flickered an angry purple. “We’re losing altitude!”
“Port!” Gerith said, pointing at the sky behind the ship and to the left.
Zed looked up and immediately wished he had not. A large, reptilian beast soared through the sky away from them. Its skin was covered with coppery scales, burning brilliant red in the sunset.