Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) (84 page)

"You made me think that I had to depend on your for everything and then when I really needed you you let me down," Felix shouted. "You knew how I felt about Amy and you took her away from me." He looked back at Quirian. "My lord father, can I... Amy, can she come with us?"

Quirian, looking as though he had just enjoyed a particularly fine meal, sheathed his sword and crossed his arms across his chest. "If she will pledge her fealty to me, I see no reason why a place cannot be found for her amongst the Lost; though older than most she is not yet too old."

Felix looked back and he was smiling. Smiling like he had in the old days, when summer was golden and the sea was sapphire blue and emerald green in one. To see that smile of halcyon days upon the face of Felix brought back to them raised Michael's sore-tried soul, before the fact that it was Quirian who had brought it to his brother's lips dashed it back upon the rocks of his desolation.

"Amy," Felix whispered. "Amy, I'm sorry I hurt you, really, I didn't mean to do it. I was just so angry, I didn't think. Please, Amy, come with me." he held out his hand. "Come with me, and it'll be like the old days, like we used to be. Together."

Amy lifted her head up, wiping blood from her lips. "My mother's dead, little Felix, did you know that? I don't suppose you did. Do you remember her, do you remember my mother?"

"I, I suppose, not really," Felix said. "I remember you had one."

"The Crimson Rose killed her," Amy said. "The Crimson Rose your Lord Father set on her. I won't stand at that man's side, not even for you."

Felix's eyes, his beautiful brown eyes, widened in horror. "So, you're not coming?"

"I don't belong with him," Amy said. "But you belong with us."

Felix shook his head. "I don't believe it. You're choosing him over me?"

"He didn't hit me," Amy declared tartly.

Felix stepped away from her, his lip trembling as though he would burst into tears. Then, face contorting with a fury he tore off his cloak. "This is how much you both cared about me!"

Michael could not restrain a gasp. Felix's left arm was indeed a kind of wand, a conduit for the power of sorcery. But only now was it clear to Michael that there was no real arm stiffly encased within the metal. There was merely a hollow metal tube carved in the shape of an arm and overlaid with runes strapped to the stump of flesh that was all that remained to Felix now. The arm that had been left upon his door that he had taken as a sign of Felix's death had been his arm indeed; and Quirian had replaced it with a tool of battle.

"It's because of you that I lost this arm," Felix said, and there were tears in his eyes. "And it's because of my lord father that I have anything to replace it with. What does that say about all of you?"

"That I wasn't strong enough to save you the way I should have been," Michael said.

"You let me down and you made me miserable and I hate you," Felix shouted. "You let mother die!"

"Yes, I did," Michael shouted right back at him. It felt good to admit that to someone who wouldn't deny it, to confess his crimes before the one who had been hurt by them the most. "I was a terrible son and a terrible brother. But Miranda, you remember Miranda don't you, our sister? Your father is going to kill her. Felix, she's innocent in all this. You can't let her suffer for my crimes. Not when I'm here to suffer for them myself."

He advanced upon his little brother. "I am a murderer, and a sinner. I am a vile and wretched creature who does not deserve to live. I let you die, though Amy knew nothing of the plot I swear. You have every right to hate me, and to your revenge."

"Michael-" Gideon began.

"Quiet, Gideon, this is a family matter," Michael snapped. He was sorry to have to do that, but he could not risk interruption. This was the only way. The only way that it could end. He had killed his mother, and if Felix still lived that was no reflection on his competence. He had killed Tullia and Fiannuala. He had failed as a son, a brother, a gladiator, a Turonim, as a servant to Lord Gideon and as a warrior for the Empire. In nothing he had ever attempted had he been successful. He was so tired, of this awful world, of this awful life, of the lies and the foolishness and the vanity and the cruelty and everything else he had always hated about the world. He had tried to live in dreams and tales, and that refuge had been torn down, he was tired of them as well. Most of all he was tired of trying again only to fail again. He just wanted it to be over.

Michael spread his arms out wide. "Come on, little Felix. Show me how much you've grown."

"Michael?"

"You have to do this yourself Felix, no one else is going to do it for you," Michael smiled. "Come on, do it! Be a man for once in your life you pathetic little-"

Felix screamed in wordless anger and drove his sword up to the hilt in Michael's stomach.

The pain. The pain, oh God the pain. Michael had been stabbed before, but somehow it had never hurt as bad as this, never all over the place the way this did. Michael bent double over the blade, coughing up blood. Or was it just because he knew what was certain to come this time that it seemed like it hurt more.
I have to hold together, for a little while longer. I can't let my last moments be me gibbering in pain and soiling myself like some rank amateur. Dignity in death, just like they always taught back in gladiator school. Brave face, and head held high. Hold it in: the pain, the fear...everything.

"Michael!" Amy shrieked, and Char shrieked with her.

"Hush now," Michael looked at her, straightening his back so that he stood erect, tall and proud, the way a warrior died. "It's all right Amy. Everything's going to be okay from now on." Michael smiled reassuringly. "Everything is going to be just fine."

Felix looked astonished at what he had just done, his eyes bulging and lip trembling. "Big brother, I'm-"

"It's all right, you don't need to say anything because you did the right thing. But now I need you to do the right thing again." Michael cupped Felix's cheek with his bloodstained hand. "Miranda. You have to protect her, keep her safe. Because you are the man in this family now, you understand?" He ruffled Felix's hair. "Take care of Miranda, and be happy."

Michael pushed himself off of Felix's sword, suppressing a wince of pain as he did so. He kept himself upright as he looked around, at Amy, at Gideon and at Jason.

"Goodbye everyone," he smiled. "The dream was beautiful while it lasted." His vision was blurring now, in places it was fading completely. He could barely feel his legs.

Michael dropped to his knees, the pain receding to be replaced by cold as his eyes rolled up towards the sky.

"I lived ignobly, I die heroically," Michael murmured with his last breath as he struck the ground with a noise like the sounding of a great dolorous drum. His limbs were dissolved in cold, and he knew that soon his spirit would flee to the world of the shades.

And then there was only ice and blackness.

Amy knelt upon the ground and rolled Michael's... she rolled Michael onto his back.
I won't say it, I can't.

His eyes were closed. No breath escaped him.

"Michael?" Amy whispered, one armoured hand patting his face. "Michael, wake up."

Jason was murmuring something to himself, a prayer perhaps; Amy couldn't make out the words. The warriors of the Lost were still close enough to threaten him, but they backed away far enough that he could kneel upon the earth and bow his head. A low, mournful hiss escaped from Wyrrin's mouth.

"Michael, that's enough, this isn't funny." Tears welled up in Amy's eyes. "Michael, don't do this, please come back. Open your eyes Michael. Michael!"

She cried out like a bird returning to the nest to find the eggs smashed and the chicks taken. Because her Michael, her brave boy, her protector, was dead.

Gideon spoke, his words soft, his enunciation perfect. "I swear before the Empress I will rip out your heart for this."

Felix didn't appear to hear him. He said, "Amy, you can still leave with me, if you want to."

What has been done to him that he can say that to me?
Amy closed her eyes, "You'd better not be there when I turn around Felix, or I might not be responsible for my actions."

Quirian chuckled. "If you will not leave with me you will not leave alive. Kill the others."

"No, wait!" Felix cried. "Please, Lord Father, no more killing. Not today. Not after..."

"They are our enemies, they have slain many of my children."

"I know," Felix said. "But...I know I do not have the right to ask you, Lord Father, but please...as a favour to me. I don't...I can't...please."

Quirian was silent for a moment. "Very well. Form up, all of you, we are leaving this place."

"That is it?" Jason demanded. "You're leaving us alive as if we don't even matter?"

"Are you not grateful for your life?"

Jason glared at Quirian briefly, then looked away. "Yes. I am grateful. I do not want to die, that I admit. But I will tell you something else: I am not a warrior, as Michael was and Amy is. I have no dryad or fire drake blood. I have not Tullia's lightning magic or - mores the pity - her courage. But Eternal Pantheia is my home, its people are my friends, and weak bodied as I am I will not let you destroy it or them. This is not the end."

Quirian chuckled. "I'm sorry, was I supposed to be intimidated? The mouse may as well try to frighten the lion."

Amy heard, rather than saw, he and his men moving out. Her eyes were only for her best friend, who had abandoned her.

She heard Jason's footsteps on the grass, smelled him drawing near to her, "What do we do now?"

Amy shook her head. "He should have died smiling. Not with this stern look on his face. He was never handsome, in fact he had a squashed in face that was too round and too flat; but he was cute when he smiled. Not that battle smirk he wore so often when there was killing to be done, his real smile, the one that made him look like a little boy again, did you ever notice that? He should have died smiling like that." Char crawled onto Michael's chest, hooting mournfully.

"Amy," Jason's tone was sympathetic but unyielding. "We need to look forward, to what comes next."

Amy's tears fell down upon Michael's face, "You said...you said to me, when we were kids, that all I ever had to do was cry and you'd come running. That was what you said to me; just cry, you said, and I'll come help you. Well I'm crying now so where are you?" She pounded her fists upon his chest, then laid her head upon it, letting her tears flow.

"Amy!" Jason snapped. "We have no time."

Wyrrin chittered angrily. "Her shield-brother is dead! Have you no respect for her grief?"

"The fate of the world will not wait upon her grief," Jason shouted. "We must master it and move on, and swiftly!"

"You might have given her a moment, at the least," Gideon muttered as he got to his feet.

"You have no right to speak," Jason yelled. "Not when your vanity and foolishness have led us to this pass! Pursue your plans and your agenda if you wish, I'm done with you. Amy, stand up. We have much to think of, and Quirian's lead on us will only increase."

"There is no us, not any more," Amy said, standing up and slinging her sword over her back. The weight of Magnus Alba was comforting, a welcome counterbalance to the emptiness in her stomach. "I will go with you to the outskirts of the forest and then I leave you. My business is down south."

Jason blinked, silent for a moment, and when he at last got his words out they were tinged with unbelief. "You're leaving?"

"Michael was Turonim, he deserves a proper ocean burial," Amy said. "I will give him that, and then...then I will rescue Felix and burn down the house of Quirian and send his soul to the world of shades. That is my duty, as Michael's friend, as..." she looked for the words to put her thoughts into the tongue of men. "We were two swords in one scabbard, and so I must strike down him who shattered my other blade." It did not sound nearly so elegant as it did in naiad, but it was the truth.

"Blind vengeance?" Jason spoke as though he could not believe it. "But what of our mission?"

"What should the fate of this world matter to me?" Amy asked. "I am no child of the Empire, I know nothing of its culture, I feel no pride when I look at its flag, I owe the purple throne no loyalty. I came here for Michael, and for glory. The one I may get by slaying Quirian, but the other is forever beyond me now. I have no mission beyond vengeance, and my obligations to two friends, one living and one dead."

Jason was silent for a moment. "I don't think I can do this without you."

Amy grimaced. "You should worry less about your lack of muscles and take more pride in that mind inside your skull. You don't need me. No one needs me, not any more."

"Do you really think that you can kill him?" Jason said.

"As strong as you are, he is far stronger," Gideon said.

"Many things are stronger than a naiad," Amy replied. "Dragons, leviathans, demons; yet we have slain them all, and many bold knights have won themselves great glory in the slaying. A hero is not made by slaying those weaker than yourself, but by confronting foes who can outmatch you, yet emerging victorious nonetheless."