Forever the Road (A Rucksack Universe Fantasy Novel) (49 page)

They opened their eyes and lowered their hands. The red-and-black gleam of the Smiling Fire’s eyes was all but gone.

“I thought you weren’t going to kill him?” Rucksack said.

“I’m not.” Jade smiled. “Do you remember when your mother said that to stand in the light of the dia ubh was to become the pure form of what was at the core of your being?”

Rucksack nodded. “So, what are you?”

“I am renewal and rebirth,” Jade said. “The path that could be taken. I am the goddess of choice and new beginnings.” As tenderly as if she were comforting a child, she touched her hand to the Smiling Fire’s face.

“Are you still there?” she said. “Can you answer me now, Jigme?”

The voice that replied was no longer the rasp of the Smiling Fire’s. It was young, yet sad. “I’m here, Jade.”

“Good,” she replied. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

J
IGME FINISHED SPEAKING
. It still was weird to hear his voice coming from the body of the Smiling Fire. The surprise on Jade and Rucksack’s faces said they were still getting used to it too.

“There has to be a way,” Rucksack said.

“We have all discussed it and discussed it. We have looked at it from every way,” Jigme replied. “There’s no alternative. But it’s okay. He died because of me. There are many who will remain dead, and that’s in part because of me. What happens to me doesn’t matter anymore, as long as I can bring back as many people as possible.”

“I thought the souls had been preserved and protected inside?” Jade said.

“Only those consumed in his fire,” Jigme replied. “Some died from the fires of the city or from smoke or from falling stone. They’re not coming back. They’ve passed on like all others who die.”

Jade took a photo out of her pocket and stared at the smiling faces there. She closed her eyes for a moment. “So be it,” she said.

Rucksack looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“No matter the bluster you might hear otherwise, gods and goddesses aren’t all-powerful,” Jade said. “When there is so much that could be done, let’s just say it’s not easy to accept my limitations.”

“Done, only not by you?” Rucksack said.

“Not by anyone but the living and the mortal,” Jade replied. “Gods are just a nudge. When gods do too much, then instead of life being full and free, it’s just tended, restricted, manipulated. People are not pawns or toys. Often, the best thing a god can do is nothing. Maybe the most important thing to know is when to do nothing and when to act. I am only a power to transform—far as I can tell, anyway. This is all pretty much on-the-job training right now.”

“I’m ready when you are,” Jigme said.

Jade nodded.

They stood where Jade had been transformed, directly under the twin discs of the mirror eclipse. Jigme could feel it throughout the Smiling Fire’s being; they had only a little longer to draw on the power of the eclipse. He stood between Jade and Rucksack, who held hands as they both stared at Jigme.

It began.

From within the silver-and-gold glow of his mother and father, Jigme heard the stirring of the souls, their excitement and their hope. He could both hear and feel the song of his mother and father, joining with Jade and Rucksack’s voices, and with his own. They sang to the moon and the sun, to the earth and the sky. They sang to all the gods, to all the living, to all the dead. They sang to themselves and to those they loved.

When the song faded, so did the silver-and-gold glow. “Son,” said his mother and father, “it is done. We pass from this world, but we leave our love for you and our hope. We take our regrets and failures with us. May your world be happier without them.”

Their voices faded. Then Jigme’s father spoke one last time. “Oh.” Laughter sparkled in his voice. “So, that’s what it is.”

Where the glow had been, it was as if all the stars in the sky now surrounded Jigme. The souls whizzed and spun, bright silver and gold.

Each small dot of light was getting bigger. As they grew, the ruddy red dimness faded to a midnight black.

“It’s working,” Jigme said. “Soon they’ll be coming back.”

But no sooner had he said the words when a red light blazed. Larger than the others, it flew like a spark into the midst of the silver-and-gold souls. The red light flickered, as if flames were unfolding from it. The souls around blurred and spun, trying to flee.

The Smiling Fire screamed. “They are mine!” he said.

Flames roared.

A
LIGHT GREW
in Jigme, and he was not afraid. “And so,” Jigme said, “we at last see the Smiling Fire for what you really are: a little spark that could not live without the fires of others.”

He blazed forward, meeting the red light. “But you will not have them,” Jigme said. “If this is my end, I gladly die so they can live, so you can hurt the world no more.”

Jigme came closer and for the first time he saw the strange mark. A silver-and-gold streak like a splinter or a fragment glowed from the surface of the red bloody gleam of the Smiling Fire. But Jigme had no time to consider it. He moved faster, before the Smiling Fire could consume the souls and try to restore his strength.

They collided.

They merged.

The lights faded. Jigme felt the fire, but it did not burn. He felt the ancient hate, but he did not flee.

He focused only on the strange mark. It still glowed silver-and-gold, so innocent amidst the fire, death, and rage spinning around it.

Jigme understood.

Some bit had survived. The first blood that had put Jigme on this path.

The first child.

The fire raged but Jigme surrounded it. He could feel himself burning away. Parts of his soul disappeared from all existence. But at least it was only his. Jigme surrounded the Smiling Fire and realized that his flames were fading too.

“If we end,” Jigme said, “we end together.”

Beyond them, the other souls kept moving and growing. They began to escape. The power inside the Smiling Fire and the power of the mirror eclipse funneled through Jade and Rucksack, pulling the souls out of the void and back into the world. Jigme could feel every liberation. He could feel each soul grow, change, flex, and become not just soul but mind and body again.

He himself was almost gone, Jigme realized, but so was the Smiling Fire. The ancient hatred was vanishing, burning up in its own rage and in the smothering strength of Jigme’s fading self.

The void was empty. Jigme felt the last bit of his own being waver and flicker.

He curled around the little spark. What would happen to it? “I’m sorry,” he said to the silver and gold fragment. “I’m so sorry I brought this upon you, Ammar.”

The name of the first boy reverberated around them.

“Ammar,” Jigme said again. “It means builder. A good name. A good boy. I hope there’s something better for you and better beings than me.”

Jigme faded.

The Smiling Fire went out.

The spark grew.

Jigme realized he was watching it grow. And that Jade was speaking.

“The name,” she said. “There is a way, Jigme. Say the name again.”

“A way for what?” he said, wondering how he could speak. “Ammar,” he said. “Ammar.”

They all sang the name. As they sang, Jigme saw the red spark flicker again, but not as it had before.

“Such a shame to waste all that power,” Jade said. “What if it could be so much more?”

The red spark of the Smiling Fire flared up then scattered into the spark of Ammar. That spark too flared up, growing in size and wrapping around Jigme.

“You are no longer yourself,” Jade said. “And the boy is no longer dead. The Smiling Fire is no more, but his power remains. I bring together all of you, the best of all of you. The hope of the boy. The power of the fire. And the understanding, Jigme, of you.”

The world flashed silver and gold. Then it turned a brilliant white and Jigme could see no more.

W
HEN THE LIGHT FADED
, Jigme opened his eyes. The world seemed brighter. Above them, the second disc of the mirror eclipse faded. A sliver of sun began to shine again. People stood everywhere, confused but elated, trying to understand where they were, what had happened, and why they were all naked.

But Jigme had only one thought:
How do I have eyes to open?

He held up his hands. A hot wind rustled across his skin.
 

And when did I turn red?

“Wasn’t anything I could do about the color,” Jade said.

He heard her voice through ears. Had to be. He touched his head. Definitely a head. And definitely ears.

“You are now the Smiling Fire,” Rucksack said. “At least the body that the spark o’ his soul occupied is now yours, only revamped and remodeled.”

Rucksack grinned. “You still look like you, only grown up. And red. But a handsome red, I must say. And the eyes are the same, brown and black, only brighter than noon. You can always tell someone’s true self by their eyes.”

“How am I here?”

“You were willing to die and you were as dead,” Jade said. “But when you said the boy’s name, the first boy who had lost all, a new way opened for you. For him too. Even for the Smiling Fire.”

Jade smiled and the richness of her brown skin gleamed in the growing sun.

Her eyes had changed, Jigme realized. The gold remained but the blue now seemed mixed with green. A silver ring glowed around the blackness of her pupil, reminding him of how the moon had covered the sun.

“But Ammar was dead.”

“A small fragment of his soul survived,” Jade said. “And that was enough. When you said his name, you accepted your actions. By being willing to give all to stop the Smiling Fire and save the others, there came a way to save you as well. What power remained of the Smiling Fire is yours. The hope that lived on in the boy, you are now part of. They all come together in you, Jigme.”

“Am I a god?” Jigme asked. “Like you?”

Jade shrugged. “The powers are a different degree. You can do more than mortals, live longer than mortals, and you see further. I don’t know what that makes you. It doesn’t matter, though, if you are god or demi-god or the walking tomato-man or whatever, as long as you are yourself and always true to yourself.”

She stared at him. “What do you think you’ll do with all that, Jigme?”

“My parents are gone and the city lies in ruins,” he replied, staring at the survivors. “And these people may have life, but they have no idea what to do with where they are.”

He looked back at Jade and Rucksack. “I will no longer be Jigme,” he said. “Jigme did much wrong, caused much death, but he died to save these people. Jigme died so that the Smiling Fire would be fully and forever extinguished. They both are gone.”

“So, who are you?” Rucksack asked.

He waved his arm. There was so much more light now.

“See this city? See these people?” he said. “That is who I will be. That is who I am. The Smiling Fire strove to destroy all life. He leveled the city. If I have his power, then as long as I live I will protect life. I will rebuild and preserve Agamuskara.

“I am no longer Jigme,” he said. “I am the builder.”

A smile grew on his face.

“I am Ammar.”

T
HE CHILDREN RAN
all around what had been the city. Their laughter and whoops seemed to hurry along the fading of the mirror eclipse, and the day grew brighter.

With Jade’s new eyes, the helixes were part of everything she looked at. The world turned, changed, and stayed the same—whatever all that meant. She gazed at the survivors, reborn, wandering, wondering. Their helixes shone bright and flowed like rivers, each running to its own ways—and none ended in red and black fire. Life lived. Existence continued.

Except for Jay.

Their own elation fading, Jade, Rucksack, and Ammar stood silent around the body.

“I kept thinking he would say something,” Jade said. “Like, ‘This is better. Never did like the idea of thinking I was a hero.’”

“You can’t be dead,” Rucksack said to Jay’s body. Tears filled his eyes. “I owe you a pint.”

They waited for a reply.

Jay lay there unmoving, no rise or fall to his chest, no flutter of his eyelids to suggest that his eyes were about to open.

He died smiling, though,
Jade thought.
He knew what he’d done. My backpack boy. He gave himself to save me, gave up his life not only so that I could live, but so I could take on the destiny he had surrendered.

She pulled the obsidian blade from his heart. The black stone glowed then cracked and turned to powder. Dust ran over Jade’s hand, blowing away to be lost among the ashes and rubble.

Blood had trickled down the corner of Jay’s mouth. She kneeled beside him and wiped it away. A soft golden light suffused the blood. For a moment, gold flickered in the red then faded and dulled.

Jade touched her finger to Jay’s lips then leaned in and softly kissed him.