Venom and Song (68 page)

Autumn. It all made sense now. With her speed, she could race to Whitehall and back in a fraction of the time it would take the others.
What horror did she witness?
Something that would make the Seven decide they were alone . . . that they needed to set forth at once to seek the Keystone on their own.

They have trained for this,
she thought.
They are lords now, and this mission is their own. I will go back to Whitehall and find what I may.

Days went by in a blur. Goldarrow had collapsed for rest only once, and just for a few hours. She ignored the tunnel. It might be collapsed farther ahead, and besides, it was much faster on the surface. Let the enemy find her if they would. She'd take a dozen with her if she must perish.

The smell hit her first, still a mile from Whitehall, and yet it was there: pungent, arresting . . . the sickly sweet smell of death. Goldarrow braced herself mentally and breathed through her mouth as she ran. The noonday sun blazed with dozens of distinct blades of light streaming into the forest from the clearing where the cliffs of Mount Mystbane rose behind Whitehall. She paused at the forest's edge, suddenly unsure if she could handle the finality of what she might find. She'd seen the enemy. She knew the paltry force that Manaelkin had brought. Even with Grimwarden leading them, five-hundred soldiers had little chance of standing against three thousand . . . even at Whitehall.

Stepping beyond the forest's edge, she shielded her eyes from the sun and walked toward the main gate. Then, at last, she saw. Not in her darkest dreams, not in her imagination's most horrific renderings of hell, not even in the carnage at Berinfell had Goldarrow witnessed such a sight. Kyrin and other scavenging birds descended like black snowflakes, falling upon a bleeding landscape. If she hadn't known the size of the Elven force that had stood against the enemy, she would have guessed there had been thousands of Elves—so widespread was the gore and violence. Goldarrow choked and fell to her knees. She wept openly . . . screaming and wailing, the tears scorching her cheeks.

She forced herself to her feet and began to search the . . . the pieces of bodies.

She recognized many of the fallen, some by their faces and others by the insignias emblazoned on their armor or some other token she'd seen before in the training halls of Nightwish. Scattered about were great burned-out craters where massive arc stones had fallen. Blackened silhouettes were burned into the walls of these craters. There would be no identifying these victims.

The drawbridge had been burned away. She stood on the edge of the semicircle moat and looked upon the terrible collection of charred appendages that floated in the dark water. The wreckage of the fortress stood on the other bank. It seemed to mock her. It was the last place she'd seen Grimwarden, yet she couldn't reach it. She couldn't leap across, not even with Jett's strength. She couldn't carry anything long enough to bridge the chasm. She'd have to swim.

With no more tears to cry, she released her swordbelt and flung everything but her clothes to the ground. Goldarrow waded into the water and swam as if sharks pursued her. She gasped for air with every stroke and tried vainly to ignore the texture of the water and the rancid smell. She bumped into things and had to maneuver around them, vomiting once. At times she found herself screaming. But at no point did she stop swimming.

Finally, she reached the other side. She clambered up ridges of stone and stood under the broken arch of Whitehall. Her search of the fortress took ten times as long as her search of the Sanctuary, but was even less fruitful. In the midst of the carnage, there were many dead Elves. But there was no sign of Grimwarden or Alwynn. She would need a week and an army of flet soldiers to search thoroughly enough, but she knew Grimwarden could be anywhere: sunk to the bottom of the moat, buried under a fallen turret, or torn to pieces and devoured by Kyrin.

She climbed the only stairwell unblocked and made it to a high tower facing north and west, giving her a panoramic view of the destruction. It was hopeless. All at once, despair darkened her eyes and utter exhaustion drained her of all strength. She collapsed in a heap and slept a hard, dreamless slumber.

The moon was high over Whitehall when a shadow passed over the tower where Goldarrow lay. Something descended upon her from above. Muscular talons curled around her waist and lifted her into the air.

BONUS SCENE
29
Lyrics of Light

Authors' Notes:
As writers we sometimes change our minds. (We're allowed to.) In this case, we'd written the scenario that follows but later decided to change how the scene played out in the search for the Keystone.

“SOMETHING ABOUT the well,” Jett said. The Seven walked over. The Keystone still sat atop the pillar in the middle of the pool as before, their medallions in place. They removed them, looping the leather cords over their heads.

After a somewhat awkward silence, Autumn said, “Okay, now what?”

“I say we get out of here,” said Johnny. “We're not safe, especially with
him
.” He thumbed at the wolf. The animal perked its ears and cocked its head, seemingly offended, or at least confused.

“And you'd suggest which route?” Autumn interjected. “The bottomless pit behind us? Or the dead end?” They all surveyed the room in which they stood. No windows. No doors. Just the cistern.

“The cistern!” Tommy suddenly exclaimed.

The others looked at him, as did the wolf.

“What about it?” asked Jett.

“Do you suppose it's our way out?” asked Jimmy. “Maybe that's what Sparky here was trying to tell us.”

“Sparky?” asked Kat. “That's not his name.”

“Guys, please. We can worry about what the dog's name is later.” Tommy looked down into the water, eyeing the pillar and the Keystone. “Jett, why don't you push down on that pillar, hands on the Keystone. I mean
hard
.”

Jett leaned into the cistern. He placed both hands on the Keystone and then shoved it downward. From somewhere beneath them . . . and from somewhere above . . . came a deep rumbling sound. At first it was subtle, like the distant rolling of thunder from miles away. Then it began to grow. Jett looked down at the pillar; it had moved down about five inches, then stopped.

“Oh, this is not good,” Jimmy offered up. “
Rocks!!
”

The first boulder came hurtling down with a low
swish
and exploded not more than twenty feet away. Ears ringing, the Seven covered their heads as bits of rocks pelted their bodies, stinging like needle pricks.

“Bad, bad idea, Tommy!” Johnny yelled. “
Baaad idea!
”

Boooom!

Another large boulder landed even closer, chunks of stone striking them. It was a trap.

Kat trembled against the side of the cistern, knees pulled up, her head covered by her arms. Kiri Lee broke down, tears welling up in her eyes. Even Jimmy, seemingly fearless in every other situation, had grown pale. Jett resorted to praying once again, and Johnny and Autumn held each other. And Tommy . . . Tommy just wanted to go home. He pictured his dad sitting in his chair playing a computer game the day he had left. He wanted so badly to—

Crack—crash!

Another boulder shattered across the room, bringing with it an entire section of the ceiling, now burying the hole they had climbed out of. Tommy pulled himself together and chanced a glance at the ceiling directly overhead, and then at the wolf, who stood utterly still. “We've got to get out of here!” He stood up, looked down at the Keystone and the pillar in the cistern, then noticed something about the water level . . . it was lowering. “Jett! There's something underneath!” He pointed into the water.

Jett nodded and then hit the top of the Keystone so hard it immediately sank from view. The water surrounding it sloshed violently, splashing the Seven, and then disappeared from the reservoir.

The others stood up and looked over the side. To their amazement, a smooth tunnel shot straight down and curved out of sight. Jett looked at Tommy as more of the ceiling crashed down beside them. “You thinking what I'm thinking?!”

Tommy nodded and lifted a leg over the side of the cistern, holding his bow and quiver in his hands. “Better go first and make sure what awaits us is friend and not foe!” He took one last look at the wolf, who suddenly seemed forlorn, and then slid down the tunnel chute.

Jett watched Tommy vanish from sight, followed only by a long hoot as Tommy whizzed down through the tunnel, his voice echoing over the crash of the boulders. Jett then reached down and picked up Kat, who was still curled in a ball, and tossed her in. A loud scream trailed behind her as she, too, sailed down the chute.

Autumn waved her hands in protest. “I can handle this myself.”

Next Jett picked up Kiri Lee underneath her shoulders and dropped her in like a rag doll. Jimmy went next of his own accord, followed by Johnny. When at last it was Jett's turn, he sat on the side and gave a salute to the wolf. “Thanks for not eating us!” But the wolf appeared very melancholy. And it was then Jett realized that it—like them—had no desire to die.

The ceiling was ready to give way completely, and Johnny's deposits of fire had all but been extinguished. Jett sat on the edge, legs hanging over the tunnel, ready to drop in. But the wolf gave out a small whine, eyes pouting down at him.

Tommy easily ranked the tunnel chute as better than any amusement park ride he had ever ridden. The polished surface of the tunnel combined with the residue of the water made the going fast. Really fast. He shot through the tube, twisting and turning, hardly able to keep his feet in front of him. The course shot him up around turns, corkscrewing over himself, one minute sliding along the bottom of the tunnel, the next skimming along the ceiling. And all the while he couldn't help but holler. It was too much fun! Granted, he felt like an emotional basketcase, one moment fearing for his life, the next having the time of his life.

And it was at the height of the ride that he suddenly felt himself spit out of the tunnel like a bullet, sailing in midair, then free-falling. He looked up and saw stars. Then down, and saw the reflection of the stars, only shimmering.

Water.

Splash!
Tommy hit the water so hard he nearly had the wind knocked out of him, his bow and quiver lost. He was instantly submerged in a world of churning sounds and bubbles, unsure which way was up. He tried to compose himself, then felt tiny bubbles ripple up over his face, heading toward the surface. He kicked his legs wildly, then burst into open air, gasping. As soon as he had a good draw, he smacked his hand down in the water and let out a
“Whoop!”

He heard a scream from somewhere above and behind him.

The others!

Fearing whoever came after him next might impale him, Tommy immediately started swimming away from . . . well, from wherever he had landed. He wasn't sure if he was moving toward the tunnel or away from it, but he dreaded being struck with the same force he had landed with moments earlier. He grabbed his bow and quiver and paddled ahead.