The Knife's Edge (46 page)

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Authors: Matthew Wolf

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: The Knife's Edge
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Gray turned away, “None of this matters. Ayva is going to die, and there’s nothing we can do.”

Darius laughed, “That’s great! Ayva is going to die, and Mura and the others are all doomed,” he said throwing up his hands. Gray narrowed his gaze. “Fantastic!” the rogue continued, “Now that we have that settled, let’s throw ourselves off the dicing cliff!”

Gray froze. That was it… “You’re right,” he said.

“I’m what?” Darius’ laughter cut short.

“You’re right,” he replied. His blood pulsed with purpose as he turned and moved closer towards the edge.

“Whoa! Wait!” Darius called out, but Gray was elsewhere.

He delved, touching the nexus in the back of his mind, feeling it. With desperation spiraling through him, the nexus pulsed powerfully. He felt as if he could lift mountains, and yet… a thread of doubt wormed its way through him. He stared out over the edge, a breeze tousling his tattered cloak. He could do it, he thought obstinately, gripping the nexus. But what if it doesn’t work? His mind retorted, but the answer to that was clear… It’s the only way. Gray paused, feeling the rogue’s presence at his back. The rogue was saying something. He glanced over his shoulder. Darius will still follow me, he realized. Gray let the nexus sit, pulsing eagerly in his mind as he turned his attention to the rogue.

“Look, I was just joking all right?” Darius laughed awkwardly. “I’m more arrogant, I swear. See? Listen to me, I can’t stop talking. Just come back from the ledge Gray…” The rogue’s face was etched with worry.

Gray glared at Darius. “Why did you two follow me anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Darius said. “When?”

“Back then, at the Shining City, when I left, why did you and Ayva follow me?”

Darius answered slowly, “Because we wanted to help you. I thought that was obvious enough,” he replied. “We both saw the pain that you kept to yourself and well, I guess I kinda’ understood that. When I saw you that first day back then, I knew you were different. I never told you this, but when I saw you it was like when I’m about to gamble it all. Dice! I don’t know how to explain it. All I know is before you entered Lakewood, things just seemed boring.” He chuckled, “Maybe that’s why I gamble, to try to risk something, to find something worth meaning. And when I saw that look in your eye, I knew you were searching for that same thing. Don’t you see? I knew we could help each other. And when you left the Shining City, even though we’d been nearly killed a hundred times, I realized I had found it. I knew that regardless of my past, or even the future, for once, even in this chaos, things seemed somehow right. I don’t care about adventure or gold, but I care about you, and Ayva. So I guess what I was missing all along were true friends.”

“Touching story,” he said coldly, looking away.

“What?”

“Did you ever think in all that, that perhaps I didn’t need or want your help, or Ayva’s?”

Darius looked at him in disbelief. “Do you really think that?”

“Maybe this will be more clear for you Darius—you wanted to be at my side, but I? I never wanted to be by yours.” The rogue’s brows knit together in confusion as the sincerity in his voice finally sunk in. “Ah, there we go! Now you’re getting it. Go away.” Darius looked stricken. “I’m not kidding, turn around right now and leave me be. If you’re smart, you’ll find a hole, hide there, and live. It might be the only thing you are good at.”

Darius stepped back, his normally cocky expression twisted into one of pain and confusion.

Gray focused on the task at hand, knowing he would need it all and more. He heard Darius’ footsteps, moving into the woods and away from him. He narrowed his focus on the Gate ahead. It sat shoulder to shoulder with the giant Burai Mountains. He looked to the White Plains below the Gate that were now blackened by the taint. With a deep breath, he summoned the nexus.

His power came, flowing through him. Like each time before, it filled him with life. Gray pulled even more into himself until he was filled to the point of pain. His gaze fell to the cavernous drop. Closing his eyes, he imagined the fall in the woods.

A dark green canopy raced towards him, as far as the eye could see… the wind lashed him as he plummeted… the rush of air sounded in his ears… terror flowed in his veins… The chaotic vision was halted and broken, but he held onto it, searching deeper. The wind howled as his eyes watered, vision fading, turning black… but he pushed beyond. In his mind he heard a quiet murmuring, a stirring in his veins as an ancient power was awoken. Then he saw it, the spell he had created, woven like a mesh of golden cords.

He pulled each thread, as if extracting the movements from a dream, and where he forgot, he filled in the gap with what the wind insinuated. The wind wove thicker and thicker strands, overlapping one another, but he made them loose, pliable. He wove those threads like a coat of armor, surrounding himself in a cocoon of wind that was alive. Placing his feet to the cliff’s edge he closed his eyes with a breath and fell forward.

Through the lashing of the wind, a voice sounded, “Gray, don’t!”

He twisted. Darius ran towards him. Surprise lanced through him. The nexus shattered. The wind that coursed around him vanished in a rush. With every fiber in his body, he lunged for the cliff’s edge when Darius smashed into him.

The roar of the wind raged in his ears and his eyes watered, blinding his sight. His cloak filled his vision and he threw it aside. Darius clawed at him and they tumbled end over end. He tried to restrain the rogue’s thrashing limbs, only to spin and lose contact. Colors blurred in a dizzying haze. More thoughts materialized, frenzied and incoherent, until he could barely think. Darkness began to creep, taking over his vision. No! His eyes fanned wide. The thought was like a lance, shrill but fleeting, and he plunged back into the dark abyss of his mind, searching frantically for the nexus. Below, the ground was spiraling closer. Something gripped him, choking him. It was Darius. Terror filled the rogue’s wide eyes. But he didn’t try to fight him. Instead, he shut his eyes, loosing a single breath.

Silence.

It was only a flicker, but he let it fill him. In that moment the nexus flickered. Gray gripped it like a drowning man who gasped for air. Suddenly, all the flows that he had conjured moments before came back in a rush that made his body jerk. Through his closed eyes he saw the ground, approaching too quickly. They were almost there. He wove the spell faster. Threads like spindly roots wove around them. He opened his eyes. A hairsbreadth from the ground, they were surrounded by a flame of wind. In his mind, he plied the spell, letting it take its course. Thick threads twisted and twined. Gently, the cradle of air lowered them the rest of the way, setting them down like a feather.

White mist fell. Snow, his mind registered. Around them, the snow had been blown back. Darius knelt, eyes still tightly clenched. Gray touched his shoulder.

“What just happened?” he whispered, looking as if he expected to be dead. How are we alive?”

Gray eyed his trembling hands. He was sapped of energy. Darius cursed and Gray turned. A tide of darkness sat before them. Huge vergs and lanky saeroks roiled. The dark army. What he thought was the taint of darkness from up high on the cliff’s edge was in fact the dark army itself. A stone’s throw away, a wave of grunts and snarls fouled the cold air as the army faced the other direction.

Gray panicked. He grabbed Darius, throwing a hand over the rogue’s mouth and crouched. No creatures had noticed them yet. He eyed their surroundings for a place to hide, when suddenly a nightmare misted out of thin air, materializing behind the armies. A Nameless.

“Move, you worthlesss sacks of meat!” It shouted as it strode up and down the lines, taller than Gray remembered. Its black armor, overlapping plates of sinuous metal, undulated like snake scales. It roared and lashed the beasts with a dark whip. The dark army pressed forward.

Another Nameless materialized. It was even taller than its brother. “Onward you filth! The Kagehass will have your hidesss! Into the Gate!” it bellowed, urging the dark mass forward. Like a surging tide, the throng grunted and snarled.

In the distance, over the heads of the army Gray saw their destination. The huge stone face of the Gate now seemed impossibly far. Suddenly, a slim fissure ran down their center and a strange crimson light spread. Dread filled Gray’s heart. The Gate has been breached.

Gray rose, searching for a place to hide when cold steel touched his skin above the collar. “Darius,” he whispered thinly. The dagger pressed deeper and he choked, stifling his breath. Darius turned and his eyes flared. The rogue’s hand shot for the hidden dagger in his clothes.

“I wouldn’t do that,” his assailant replied in a hard voice.

Gray didn’t dare to look around. “Who are you?”

“Silence!” the man commanded in a low hiss. “I would not speak again, unless you wish to die. It is said a saerok can hear a mouse’s scurry.” Gray struggled against his grip. “Now I’m going to let you go. Don’t make a sound or I will regret my decision,” he said in a menacing whisper, then pushed him away.

He looked up, rubbing his neck and taking in his attacker. The man wore a ragged gray cloak. Its heavy hood was pushed far forward to hide his face. Other than that he was tall and wore the nondescript clothes of a wanderer. But his voice and demeanor was all too familiar.

“Kail,” he whispered.

The man drew back his hood, revealing bright scarlet eyes. Kail’s strong jaw was dappled with unshaven growth, peppered black and gray, while his long gray braid hung down, nearly reaching his shoulder. At Gray’s side, Darius’ jaw dropped. The rogue gained his senses and lunged for his weapon. But Gray was quicker. He grabbed the rogue’s wrist.

“Gray, what are you doing? Dice, that’s Kail!” Darius voice was full of panic.

“He won’t hurt us,” he replied. Then he looked to Kail who gave a wolf-like smile. “What do you want with us?”

“I see you decided not to part from your friends,” the Ronin said.

“I tried, but I realize now that I’m not like you. I’m not alone.”

“Perhaps not. But they will die, and you will pay the price,” the legend shrugged. “Nevertheless, that is not why I am here. In light of your precious friendship, I’ve come to deliver a message.”

“What message?” Darius asked warily.

“Your friend is in danger.”

“Ayva. Where is she?” Gray asked, striding forward.

“She is being held captive upon the gates. The Kage are coming for her. They know that you possess the blade and they will use her to get to you.”

“What do we do?” Darius asked.

Gray looked to the legend. “Take us to her. Take us to Ayva,” he told the Ronin.

“So be it,” Kail said with a crazed grin and the Ronin closed his eyes. He raised his hands and coils of air swirled upon the ground. They grew, surrounding them like a blanket of snow. The wind raged and the beasts turned with a roar. Gray saw saeroks and vergs racing towards them—but still the wind grew until it was a thick maelstrom of white, encasing them. Gray was suddenly weightless, his limbs frozen. The last sound he heard was Kail’s maniacal laughter, rising above the wind.

Blue Skies

T
HE DRAGON FLEW AWAY, JOINING THE
others that circled like carrion birds waiting for the kill.

Ayva tried to slow her frantic breaths. Beneath her was a shelf of stone, not much bigger than a narrow plank. On hands and knees, she crawled to the edge. Her fingers gripped the lip of stone. She peered over. Fathoms fell beneath her, a dizzying abyss that made her head swim. The plains below were a roiling sea of black that obscured the White Plains.

“The enemy,” she whispered.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her lurched. She pressed her back to the gate as the world beneath her rumbled. Her toes reached the edge and her nails scraped on the stone as she waited for the shaking to end. Finally, it did and Ayva opened her eyes. She saw a different part of the Burai Mountains, and the plains below had shifted. The Gates had moved. They are opening, she realized with rising dread. Hardening herself, she continued to search, trying not to think about the drop. She noticed a dark metal door behind her, but saw no handle. She searched for anything she could put her hands on. There was nothing.

She cried for help, but there was no answer, only the sound of wind. In the distance, she saw more ledges, but there was no way to reach them. Even if I could, where would I go?

Ayva slid down against the wall and held her knees with both arms. She thought of Gray and Darius. She imagined the two still far from Death’s Gate. “At least they are safe,” she whispered, cradling her head in the haven of her arms as the wind picked up and the cries of dragons assailed her. To her left, she saw the black door budge. At first she thought it was her imagination, but the door slowly opened outwards.

Her heart hammered in her chest. A head poked out from behind the black door and she saw a flame of white hair and a cloak with a symbol of a leaf. “Maris!” she cried, rising to her feet. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

He turned and a darkness grasped Ayva’s heart, stealing her breath and all hope with it. Pitiless eyes of frozen blue fixed her. Patches of flesh were missing from its pale, corpse-like skin and writhing maggots crawled inside those dark holes. It was a face of nightmares.

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