The Nothing: A Book of the Between (33 page)

Somewhere behind her, Isobel screamed, followed by a shout from Kraal. “It’s coming! Do it now!”

Vivian glanced over her shoulder. Saw the jagged edge of black emerge through the tunnel to begin eating away at the cavern floor.

“Get the sword ready,” Zee ordered. “Now or never.”

Her eyes cleared. Her hands steadied. Tightening her hands around the hilt, she heaved its weight back up and onto the altar.
 

“I love you,” she whispered. She wanted to look away, anything other than watching the light go out of his eyes. But she needed to see. The blow must be quick and accurate, like a surgical incision. He must not suffer.

“Three,” he said, his eyes holding hers.

“Two.”

“One.”

Bracing her weight against the sword hilt, tightening her grip, she lunged forward, driving the tip of the sword toward Zee’s exposed throat.

At the same instant, Jared flung himself facedown onto the altar between the sword and Zee.

The blade struck bone with a scraping, grinding sensation, then slipped forward between the ribs. Jared’s mouth opened in a soundless
Oh
. His body stiffened. And then, improbably, he smiled.

The Nothing was coming. She could feel it. Summoning all of the reserves of her will, she tried to withdraw the sword. It was stuck, embedded almost to the hilt. Zee made no sound. Maybe she’d pierced two hearts in one blow. Maybe she was going to have to try again. She felt sick and numb with shock and horror.

Bracing both feet and using her body weight, she pulled with all of her strength. She staggered backward and nearly fell as the blade came free. Blood gushed down onto the altar. Light flared up, so bright it nearly blinded her. A deep, cosmic pulsing sucked the strength from her body, feeding off the magic of Dreamshifter, Sorcieri, and dragon, amplifying it until the whole chamber seemed to be one giant beating heart.

With a sound of rending stone, a door opened on the far side of the altar. Kraal herded Isobel and Poe through the opening. Vivian was too spent to move. Her knees buckled, dropping her to the floor of the cave.

She could see the Nothing only inches away. Time for one more deep breath, and then it would all be over. She found that she was grateful. But before the dark could take her, strong arms scooped her up and carried her through the door.

“P
UT
ME
down,” Vivian said, struggling in the arms that held her. Instead of letting her go, the embrace tightened and warm lips pressed against hers. There was only one person who could kiss her like that.

She broke away, looking up into a pair of clear agate eyes. “How?” she managed before he was kissing her again. This time, she did not resist, giving her whole self to that kiss, arms locked around his neck, tears pouring down her cheeks. Maybe this was a crazy, messed-up dream, but if so, she wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity.

“You need to close that door before the Nothing comes through.”

Kalina’s voice, ordinary now. Zee broke the kiss, then touched his lips to hers once more, gentle and lingering, before he set her on her feet, supporting her in the circle of his arm. She looked around, dazed, trying to catch up to what she saw.

Kraal still carried Lyssa, the raven riding on his head. Isobel held the griffyn. Poe, all of his feathers ruffled, had set himself as guardian in front of the open door. Almost absently, with half of her attention, Vivian willed the door closed.

She laid one hand on Zee’s throat, smooth and whole except for the place where she’d nicked him. Ran her hands over his bare chest.

“I thought I’d killed you. And then I thought I’d have to kill you again.”

“Seems like one victim was enough.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, thinking of Jared. He’d saved Zee, saved them all. It wasn’t what she’d ever expected from him.

“He offered himself,” Kalina said. She looked ethereal and thin, as if light could shine through her. “A willing sacrifice.”

“But—there was all that talk about the right sacrifice. You said—”

“Blood of your blood, flesh of your flesh.”

“Yes, that. It hardly describes Jared.”

Kalina shrugged her slim shoulders. “Does it matter? The sacrifice was accepted. The door was opened.”

Zee cupped her chin to look into her eyes. “And the two shall be one flesh. In the Biblical sense, I’d guess.”

“Because I’d slept with him?”

“That.”

“Or, maybe, you were blood of his blood and heart of his heart,” Kalina said. “Whatever the reason, we owe him a debt.”

“But—Jared.” Vivian recalled all of his many sins, realizing as she did that most of them had taken place in the Dreamworld. Still. It was going to take a lot of time to get her mind and heart lined up on the subject of Jared. She pushed the problem away for later and looked around the place the bloodstone altar had brought them, and all hope vanished.

“This can’t be the Forever,” she said. They stood on a wide, dusty plain devoid of anything green. Not even sagebrush or tumbleweed broke the expanse of dirt. Skeletons of trees stood here and there, the bark worn away so that nothing remained but bare, worm-eaten wood, carved by wind. It looked more like the place where her grandfather and the other Dreamshifters were trapped between life and death. The Forever made the badlands look like a paradise.

“Perhaps the spell was miscast,” Kraal said.

“Or the wrong blood spilled with the wrong intent,” Kalina retorted. “If Vivian had been quicker—”

“I would not be here,” Zee finished, silencing them all.

Vivian shifted to what she knew by habit, her eyes running over her companions to check for injuries. Zee’s arm looked bad. The edges of the wound had turned an angry red. Isobel had aged visibly, her hair more gray than black, fine lines spider-webbing her cheeks. Lyssa lay unmoving in Kraal’s arms. The little girl’s forehead was cool to her touch but not cold or clammy. Neither fever nor shock. Her breathing was even and she appeared to sleep.

“What do we do now?” Isobel asked.

“There’s a riverbed to the east. I suggest we follow that.” Kraal shifted the sleeping child to his shoulder and pointed.

Vivian could just make out a darker line cutting across the plain. No gleam of water, though. No movement at all.

“Or we could fly,” Kalina suggested. “This is the home of the dragons, after all.”

Vivian shook her head. “The minute I shift, they’ll know we’re here. I’d rather go to them than have them come to us. If we are in the right place and there are any dragons to be found.”

“They are here.” Zee had turned toward the North. He sniffed the air, tipped back his head, and stared up into the empty sky. “They have been here, and they are traveling in that direction.”

“I think we should cross to the riverbed and follow it along,” Vivian said.

Kraal shook his head. “Lost time for no good purpose. There is no water in it. If the dragons are north, I say we travel north and be done.”

“I can’t say why the river matters, but it does.” That dark gash drew her, for good or ill.

“I’ve seen an ancient map,” Kalina said. “The river ends in a waterfall, directly into the Pool of Life. And built on its shores is the City of Dragons.”

“Then that’s the way we travel.” Zee drew his sword from the sheath and cleaned it in the sand. Vivian shuddered at the dark blood that marked it. Too many had died. And the longer they lingered here, the more deaths were occurring.

“How far do you think?”

“No more than a day’s good hiking. If the sun is to be trusted here, it is early morning. By dinner.”

“I have water enough to carry us through a day,” Kraal said. “A little travel bread. That is all.”

“Enough to get us there, then, if we conserve,” Zee said, and Vivian just nodded. Whether there was water and food enough meant nothing. They must make the attempt. There was no going back.

A morning of steady walking brought them to the empty riverbed, where a dead dragon stretched out in a shallow pool of liquid.

“Just like a dragon to defile the only available water,” Kraal muttered.

“Blood and body fluids, not water,” Zee said, sniffing. “It hasn’t been dead long.”

Vivian bent to investigate. The creature’s scales were thick and dulled by age, its body marked with old scars, teeth worn and broken. Something had ripped out its throat. Its position was formal, laid out neatly with wings folded. No dying dragon would assume that position on its own.

“Maybe some infighting,” Zee said.

“Looks like. If we’re lucky enough, maybe one of them will kill Aidan.”

“Aidan is mine,” Zee growled. One look at his face and she chose not to argue.

All afternoon, they followed the riverbed, dry and cracked by the heat of the sun. Old dragon bones littered the banks at intervals, most of them scattered and separate from each other. Late in the day, they reached a wide, deep place so full of bones, they must have dammed the flow of water.

Zee stood at the edge of the boneyard with a look of wonder. “This matches the tale the hermit told me of the war that broke out over Aidan’s mother. Dragons slaughtering dragons.”

“And many of the dragons left the Forever at that time rather than give service to a king who would order the killing of his own,” Kalina added. “I’ve read the tales. But to see this…”

Vivian and Zee exchanged a long look. No need for words; she knew he saw what she did. Faced with evidence of a dragon war on such an enormous scale, their small band looked pitiful. And they were very near their destination.

Dust stained the western sky. Not far. Even in her human form, Vivian could sense the dragons, the thought channels like radio static she was unable to tune into.

Isobel sank down onto a dragon skeleton, her hands pressed over her ears, rocking back and forth.

“What is it?” Vivian knelt with her.

“The voices are back.”

“What are they saying?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell. There are so many…”

“Easy,” Vivian soothed. “It’s the dragons. You’re not losing your mind. I hear it, too.”

“Why can’t we see them, then?”

“According to the maps, there should be a cliff ahead,” Kalina said. “A sharp drop where there once was a waterfall. At the bottom, the City of Dragons stands all around the edge of the Pool of the Forever. They used to bathe in it. Doubt there’s much bathing going on now.”

“What if there’s no water left in the Pool of Life?”

“We should have a strategy.” Kraal set Lyssa down in a cradle made by a curve of dragon ribs and stretched his arms. “I can’t fight while carrying the little one.”

Bob perched on the skull and
kronk
ed once before starting to preen his feathers.

“I can carry her. Make me good for something.” Isobel went to sit beside the child, smoothing her forehead. “Are you sure she’s okay? She’s not wakened since…since…”

“I put her to sleep,” Vivian said. “But I suppose she’ll need to wake now. She needs to eat and drink and be able to use her own legs.” She looked at Kalina. “Can you do something about the pain? I don’t know how.”

Kalina nodded, and Vivian followed the flow of her magic, partly to learn, partly to guard against any more betrayal.

“You’re checking up on me.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I would never hurt a child!”

Vivian didn’t answer. Everything seemed okay with the spell, and she called the little girl’s name. “Lyssa, time to wake up.”

The blue-green eyes flew open and the little girl woke up screaming. “The Nothing is coming. Run!”

Isobel tried to draw the little girl into her arms but she pulled away, kicking and hitting like a cornered animal.

“The Nothing isn’t here,” Vivian said. “Not yet. We’re in the Forever.”

A quavering breath and a trembling lip as those big eyes welled up with tears. “My hand…”

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?”

Lyssa shook her head. Her good hand explored the stump, running over and over the strange, light-filled weaving. “No fingers,” she said. And then, unexpectedly, “When can I see the dragons?”

“Soon enough. Here, now, you should have a drink.”

Lyssa accepted the waterskin from Kraal after a brief hesitation and took a good long drink before pouring some out into the concave hollow of an old bone.

Vivian stopped her. “We can’t play with it, Lyssa. There isn’t enough.”

“Bob needs water,” the little girl insisted. “And your penguin and the kitty.”

The entire animal contingent had gathered around the child, a little wary of each other but drawn like flies to honey. Bob and Poe stood on one side of the bone, warily watching the griffyn, which was crouched low, tail lashing.

“Hold on to the leash,” Vivian warned Isobel, who held the other end. “It’s just a cub, but it’s hungry.”

Poe hissed, snaking out his neck, and the cub retreated into Isobel’s lap.

“Do we have a strategy for this battle? What’s the prime objective?” Kraal retrieved the waterskin, took a swallow, and handed it around. “One drink for everybody, I think. Then that’s gone.”

Zee took his turn last. Instead of drinking, he handed the nearly empty skin to Lyssa. “Drink up, kiddo.”