The Knife's Edge (44 page)

“You’re doing it wrong!” Darius replied and snatched the flint and stone from Gray’s hands. With flamboyant swipes, he bashed the two together. After a good while of grunting and frustration and no flames, the rogue threw the flint and rock to the ground, “Gah! It’s useless!”

Ayva slowly picked up the rock and flint.

“It won’t work,” said Darius, “Damned thing is broken.”

Rather than argue the notion of a rock being “broken”, Ayva lifted the two, preparing to rub them when a golden spark flashed at her fingertips and a stray ember scuttled into the wood fluff.

“You did it,” Gray marveled. “Nicely done.”

Darius grumbled, “Beginner’s luck.”

Ayva, however, only looked to the rock and flint in confusion. She hadn’t even touched the two. Had she? What felt like moments later, she watched as darkness enveloped the desert around them. She could scarcely see beyond the light of the copper flames.

Darius rubbed his hands eagerly. “What’s for dinner?”

Ayva opened her bag. Her mouth went dry. There was a dry hunk of cheese, a bowl of white rice, and several rice-flour dumplings. She bit her lower lip and handed it out. The two dug in ravenously, hungry from a long day’s journey. She remained silent, nibbling on a bit of cheese.

“What’s wrong?” Gray asked, noticing her silence.

“This is the last of the food.”

Darius swallowed. “Wait, this is it? What about the fruit we found?”

Ayva shook out the bag. Several moldy eggs and a few spongy fruits rolled out onto the desert sand. “I was afraid it wouldn’t last.”

“It won’t matter,” Gray said. “By the end of tomorrow, we’ll reach the Gate.”

A shiver traced Ayva’s spine. “One more day until we’re at Death’s Gate,” she repeated, her voice soft. “I can hardly believe it.” She warmed her hands over the fire. She had never imagined the desert could be so cold. There was a stretch of silence. “Are you afraid, Gray?”

Gray sat cross-legged on the sand. He was huddled inside his threadbare cloak. He looked every bit the wanderer as he stared at the moon. It had been red every night since Tir Re’ Dol. “To be honest, I’ve been afraid this whole time,” he said with a chuckle. Then, as he often did, he scrubbed a hand through the back of his head in contemplation. “But now for once, I’m not.”

“What happens when we get to the Gates?” she asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? We head to Farhaven,” Darius said. She noticed Gray. He picked up a stick and broke it in half roughly, as if the mythical land struck a chord. The rogue continued. “Back in Lakewood, I used to hear men and women talked about the magic beyond the Gates. They said the very air was filled with magic,” he said, eyes wide.

“Farhaven is magic,” Ayva added. “Imagine the elves and the city of Eldas. It is said the Kingdom of Forest is full of glowing lights that hang amid the woods. And the Spire, a great tree that reaches endlessly high, or the forests of Drymaus, home of the mythical dryads. Not to mention Farbs, which is a city full of magic. They say the fires of the Reavers light the night sky for miles. I’ve even heard of creatures called sprites that have no form.” Her thoughts towards Farhaven ran wild. She wanted desperately to believe it all. Ayva realized she was rambling and grew quiet. Stick your fool tongue back in your mouth, Ayva, she berated.

Darius threw a rock into the dark and it landed silently in the empty desert. “We all know the stories,” the rogue said dryly.

Ayva shrugged, “Well, maybe Gray didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know that, about the sprites or the city of Drymaus,” he said.

“Really? Well, anyway, Drymaus, Farbs and Eldas are only three places I know. It’s really nothing to brag over.”

“Still more than I know,” Gray said and stood. “But we should get some sleep.”

Something rattled in the darkness. At the border of the fire’s light, there was a quick flicker of a shadow and Ayva leapt. With a glinting flash, the shadow was pinned to the hard-packed earth. It happened in a matter of seconds. Gray was still reaching for his sword.

Ayva drew nearer, inspecting the shadow. In the light of the fire, lay a dead snake the length of her arm. Darius’ pointed dagger protruded from the back of its leathery hide. The creature’s mouth was agape with two glistening-wet fangs.

Darius walked over and with a small flourish withdrew his dagger, cleaned it with a flick and slipped it in his belt behind his back. “Well then, shall we get some sleep?”

Gray nodded slowly, still eyeing the dead creature. “We should,” he said. He looked up, his face attentive again. “Tomorrow, we’ll see the Gates. I’m not tired, so I’ll take first watch tonight.”

They all agreed. Darius offered to take middle watch and promptly set up his pack as a pillow on the hard desert ground. “Farhaven…” and “One thousand years…” she heard the rogue mutter again.

Ayva watched Gray as she made her bed. His faraway eyes reflected the dancing orange flames. She lay down, tired, but thinking she would never fall asleep with the excitement and fear pumping in her veins. But after a while, her eyelids grew heavy. Her eyes opened and closed one last time to the image of Gray’s face, and she began to dream.

First Light

T
HEY HEADED OUT AT FIRST LIGHT.
The desert stretched before Ayva, seemingly endless when she saw it—Death’s Gate—the raw sight of towering stone. When it came into view she slowed to a halt. “Dear spirits…” she whispered.

“Dice,” Darius murmured at her side. “It’s huge.”

“That’s where we’re headed. Death’s Gate. Did you ever in your life imagine being here right now, Gray?” she asked. A sudden wind swirled at their feet and there was a sound like the press of air.

Darius’ dagger was at his side, the flat of the blade pressed tight to his forearm. “Something’s wrong,” he said. The dirt at her sides began to spread, little pebbles tumbling away. Gray and Darius backed up slowly as the sound became louder.

“Ayva!” Gray called.

The ground at Ayva’s feet darkened. Time slowed. Her eyes turned upward. A shadow blotted out the sun and the earth shuddered. Ayva was thrown to the ground—through her tangled hair, she saw it, and uttered a strangled word, “Dragon…”

A mere ten paces away, the giant creature moved sinuously. From its massive head to its scaled limbs the dragon’s entire body, bigger than a house, was armored in glimmering gray scales like tiny pieces of overlapping plate mail. Its leathery wings folded out slowly, spanning three times the size of its own body. An ominous pattern branched across its scales like forked lightning or red veins. Its massive body eclipsed the light.

She heard her name again cutting through the wind. “Ayva!”

The dragon’s huge, diamond-shaped eyes fixed on her. In a burst of movement, too quick for her to follow and impossibly quick for its size, it attacked. Ayva dove, but she was too slow. A cruel claw snagged her dress. She fell when a strange sensation of wind coursed at her sides. She was rolling. She came up, breathless and dazed. Gray held her with one arm at his side. Wordlessly, he ushered her back and gripped his sword with both hands.

* * *

The dragon swiveled its massive head, snorting steam. It took Gray in with one burning eye. Then with a deafening roar, it charged. He was ready. He channeled his power into a dive again, but this time he waited. The beast lashed. A scimitar-like claw dug for his open right side. Gray sucked in a breath, and the claw scraped along his ribcage.

He dove and his sword reached, aiming for the creature’s underbelly. Morrowil scraped, sounding like steel against chainmail. The dragon bellowed. The wind brushed at all sides of his body and he completed his roll, skidding along the sand. He looked back. The beast barreled towards him. Gray dove again, narrowly scraping the creature’s claws. The creature twisted. It dug its claws into the ground, using it as a pivot and swung its massive weight, creating huge burrow-like trenches in the earth as it flew towards him again.

Gray had no time to dive. He planted his feet in the sand, and called forth his power. Darkness clenched his heart and tendrils of black snaked along the sword and across his arms. No! He cursed. The darkness seethed, raging with uncontrollable power, begging to be used.

The beast hurtled towards him. He raised his hand, sending the dark wrath from his fingertips. The darkness obeyed and black lightning streaked across the air. It collided with the dragon. The beast howled in pain. More power flooded through him, gushing in his veins, growing ever greater. His eyes fogged with rage. The dragon’s shrieks pitched. In the corner of his vision, he saw Ayva and Darius. They covered their ears from the deafening roar, convulsing with the power that crackled in the air. Distantly, his mind shouted, you’re killing them! He faltered and the dark lightning vanished. The dragon opened its mouth and a bolt of fire erupted, racing towards him. He delved inward, and light filled his frame, blinding his sight.

Suddenly, he was eyeing the back of the dragon. It was as if he had moved forward thirty paces in the blink of an eye. Despite his confusion, he grinned as the beast’s head swiveled, searching. “I’m over here,” he called confidently, pressing back the darkness, and gripping the nexus that pulsed within his mind.

The dragon turned. Hatred burned in the beast’s eyes. It raked its claws, tearing large tracks in the sand, then charged. But this time, not at him. The creature snaked across the desert towards Ayva and Darius.

Darius jumped in front of Ayva. With one swipe of its giant wing, the beast flung the rogue aside. He summoned his power, and the nexus pulsed. As if he had leapt the divide, suddenly he was before the beast, falling from midair and swinging Morrowil with a cry. With one claw, the beast parried his strike and flung him to the side. Dazed, he looked up as the dragon reared upon its heavy hind legs. It beat its wings and a tornado of sand and wind buffeted him. He threw out his hand and golden wind coursed around him, deflecting the torrent, and spreading it to all sides in a fine spray. The sound of air hollowing through a tunnel was loud in his ears. The creature grabbed Ayva in its talons, and lifted her from the ground. The fury of sand and wind rooted him and he cried out.

“Gray!” She rose into the air.

As the beast rose higher, the wind that rooted him fell. Gray dashed after them, but he was too late. He watched as the creature flew north with its prize in its talons. “Coward!” he roared, falling to his knees, and thrust the blade deep into the sand. Staggering to his feet he found Darius. The rogue lay motionless. He froze when sand skittered before the rogue’s parted lips. Gray sighed in relief, shaking Darius’ shoulder.

The rogue jolted awake with a sputtering cough. “What’s going on?” he said, rubbing sand from his eyes. “Ayva! Where is she?”

“The dragon took her,” he said, catching his breath. He answered the rogue’s unasked fear. “She’s alive, for now.”

Color returned to Darius’ face. “Where is it taking her?”

Gray looked into the distance, towards the looming stone gates, “Death’s Gate.”

“Why Ayva? What does it want with her?” Darius asked.

Gray grit his teeth, rising to his feet. “The dragon is a merely a pet of the Kage. It flies to meet its master.”

“The Kage…” Darius said. “Then the dark army will be waiting there. How can we fight a legion of nightmares? We’ll be killed before Ayva even knows we’re there to save her! And what if that’s the Kage’s plan? What if they wanted us to follow and it’s a trap?”

Gray gave a steady breath. “I thought of that too,” he said and offered his hand. “Are you with me?”

With a sigh, Darius gripped his arm, “Dice! This is a fool’s journey if I ever saw one! Well, of course I’m with you, but I said it before and I’ll say it again, you better know what you’re doing!”

Me too, Gray thought silently, looking towards the gate that scraped the clouds.

The Endless Tunnels

T
HE GROUND SHOOK WITH THE CRIES
of war.

Karil stood outside the door of the Dipping Tsugi when a heavy ballista rumbled past her. The white-paved streets of the city were alive with terror. A shadow larger than the inn raced over her head. A flicker of something lashed out and she grabbed Mura, pushing him to the side of the inn and ducking. A crash shook the street. She covered her ears as wood and stone rained down upon her.

Karil looked up. She saw a massive chunk missing from the inn. The winged creature vanished back into the dark sky as streaking arrows from archers followed it. She grabbed her uncle. “Are you all right?” she shouted, though her voice sounded muted as if underwater.

Mura was covered in a film of stone. He brushed himself off and nodded.

“Let’s go,” she yelled, pulling her uncle up, and together they ran. Before she knew it, she saw the stone archway of the Noble’s District. The same quiet entry they had entered only a day before. The place was now teeming with guards. Soldiers ran along the walkways above the entry, while even more scrambled to close the wooden gate. They were already closing off the Noble’s District, she realized, running faster. “We have to stop them! Rydel is still out there!”

As they neared, a dull clang reverberated through the streets. A massive timber thudded into place, locking the doors. She grabbed the nearest soldier, “Open that door!” she commanded over the tumult of noise.