Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Long Shot

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Provinces
Bryce Valley
Diamond (April) 26

Valith screamed at the top of his lungs to the group of hooded figures, pointing in frenzy up to where the first arrows came from. Had he kept his eyes up on the cliffs, he would have in that moment, seen Malcolm sliding down the slope.

​But he was already back to the minotaurs, and at his signal the great, hulking brutes each took a step closer to the wagons they were standing in front of. “Destroy everything!” Valith screamed, his eyes gone bloodshot, “Kill everything!” Now he turned his attention on Jaden.

The Outriders were doing everything they could, firing a flurry of crossbow bolts into the minotaurs and executing their impressive trick of reloading by swiping their weapons across bolt belts crossed over their chest. But it was taking too long and both of them knew it. Their attacks were killing the creatures, but slowly, wasting time they did not have.

The wagon drivers continue to display their own brand of courage just by doing their job. In keeping the horses in place and under control amidst the horrors all around them. Even now, when the minotaurs drew so close that the destruction of their wagons and loss of their lives seemed inevitable, every one of them stayed true.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jaden took notice of the hooded figures, the sky fire unit, making their way over to the cliffs, and had just begun to turn that way when crippling pain surged through every fiber of her being, dropping her to her knees. The agony and surprise together were too much for her to muster a trace of magic.
Valith was standing over the wizardess, his palm pressed into the small of her back. “How does that feel, m’lady?” he cackled. “Having your spine liquefy in my palm?” She had made the fatal mistake of taking him for dead, and while he wasn’t far from it with two crossbow bolts in the abdomen, Valith had her beat.

“I’ve heard … you’ve … done this to children,” she managed through gritted teeth, falling forward and scrunching up handfuls of dirt in unimaginable pain.

“Shh…” he tilted his head to the side.

Jaden screamed, drawing the Outriders’ attention to only too late.
“It will all be over soo-”
Valith’s words were choked back into his throat as the first arrow pierced his shoulder, the force spinning him violently to the ground. Beside him, Jaden collapsed, still within arm’s reach. Valith forced himself back to his knees, crying out in agony with the action. He started to reach for the wizardess again just as her eyes fluttered open. “You see … Jaden. In … the end … we all,” and then half of his face blew off, showering the wagon wheel beside him with blood and gore.
In that moment, the minotaurs hesitated, the crimson glint fading from their stare as they turned to regard each other, disoriented.
Ferris Lang was at Jaden’s side, helping her to her feet. She staggered over to Valith’s corpse, ripping off his necklace and eagerly touching the sapphire.
​“Malcolm! Malcolm, can you hear me?”
“Yeah. You alright?”
“I am,” she said. “For the most part.”
“That’s great,” his voice fluctuated slightly as he reloaded his bow. There was another shrill whistle and a deafening roar as one of the minotaurs fell. “Now can you please get the hell out of here?”
​The wizardess didn’t dare waste another moment.
“Get on the wagons!” she shouted and started running.

***

Malcolm reached back to his quiver and had another arrow loaded in a flash. His sights were on the second minotaur, and he released a shot that brought the beast swiftly down.
​He watched with relief as Darvin Nash made it back to the rear wagon, and Ferris Lang helped Jaden into her carriage. The convoy was tearing through the valley again, kicking up plumes of dust towards the Sky Gate. “These hooded ones look like they’re ignoring you,” Malcolm said, watching as they moved to form what he could only describe as a séance circle. “Any idea what they’re doing?”
​“Malcolm, listen to me,” Jaden's voice came back. “You need to run! Are you listening to me? Do not waste time firing on them!”
​Malcolm lowered his bow before glancing back over his shoulder, up to where the cavern entrance was just out of sight. “Um,” he looked back to the valley floor. “That could be a problem.”
Below, the hooded figures, barbed-wire staffs in hand, had begun sprinkling the ground at the center of their ring with something the bowman couldn’t quite make out. Not long after, the amber stones on their heavy necklaces started to glow.
​Yellow lances of lighting rose in a great cascade, forming a web between them and consuming the reagents in flash. The web exploded up and outward, materializing into a giant golden comet that sailed over Malcolm and landed higher up on the incline, connecting with an explosion that forced him to his stomach.
​Malcolm gripped the bow tightly as a giant crater was blasted out near the top of the slope and he was showered with shards of rock, cutting through his long sleeved tunic and across his back. The biggest boulders missed him by luck and sailed over him. Yet his other wounds were so painful that he yelled out.
​Below, as the convoy passed through the Sky Gate, it broke Jaden's heart to hear it.
​“Malcolm, you need to run!” she yelled again.
​Breathing heavily, he looked up. It would be impossible to climb. Not even close. The only thing he got by the effort was a sense of awe, witnessing the size of the massive crater that now blocked his way.
​“Doesn’t look like an option,” he said, his hand drifting down to where he knew he was bleeding profusely. He felt no pain, only the wetness pooled on the side of his stomach, but his hands were shaking as he moved to inspect the wound. When the fluid on his shirt felt cool to the touch, however, a look of confusion splayed across Malcolm’s face. He brought himself to a sitting position and laughed. He wasn’t bleeding at all; his waterskin had only ripped open during the fall. The relief spurred him to his knees and he reached back to his quiver, eyes narrowing as the arrow released.
​The shot flew directly for the center of the hooded figures, zipping on target to strike the lead wizard when a sudden flash of amber light revealed a dome shield around his enemies, and the arrow fell harmlessly aside.
“Ah,” Malcolm said, falling back against the slope. His voice never wavered, but the look on his face betrayed his true feeling. “There’s that shield ability your boy was talking about,” he said. “Good news for the capital of Sindell.” He cleared his throat, relaxing after all his exertion. “Looks more like the bad variety for me.”
​“Malcolm, please,” Jaden’s voice came back, and as he watched the sapphire he had taken from Orinus gleam, the bowman wondered remotely why it was shaped like a star. “Please, is there no way you can climb?”
​Malcolm did not respond to her, and there was a pause before Jaden spoke again. It sounded like she was fighting back tears. “Malcolm are you there?”
“Yeah,” he said, tumbling the sapphire star in his hand. “And there’s something I wanna tell you.”
“It can wait. You need to know that the instant-”
“I have a habit of thinking I know everything,” Malcolm interrupted, and it seemed he wasn’t even aware that the wizardess had started to speak. “I was wrong for what I said this morning. So when you end up saving the world, just pretend like I never doubted you, alright?”
“Now is not the time for goodbyes, Malcolm, and I plan on seeing you again so if you can’t run, listen.”
“Yes ma’am,” Malcolm said, smiling.
“The instant the comets launch, their shield will fall. But only for a second.”
​Malcolm lifted his head up to stare down his body at the wizards below. “How many would I have to get to stop them from launching another one?” he asked, some hope returning.
“Three,” Jaden answered. “In just about two seconds.”
Malcolm laid his head back down on the rock. The reagents had been piled up between his enemies again. It wouldn’t be long until the next salvo was ready.
​“Malcolm?”
​He did not respond, staring vacantly into the gray sky.
​“Malcolm, can you hear me?” her voice frantic.
​In the background, the voice of Ferris Lang could now be heard.
​“We’re going back for him,” the Outrider said. “We’re going back to stop those things.”
​“Hell no!” Malcolm held the sapphire closer to his mouth. There was silence then. “I already told Cleo to relay our success to the General on the chance I could come back and pull it off. Don’t make me look stupid.” Malcolm lowered the sapphire back down at his side. “As for the shield going down,” and he hesitated. “I’m good, but I ain’t that good.”
​From his back he could only watch as another golden comet fired overhead; this one was closer, slamming into the slope nearer him. He felt heat this time, and some of the brush around him caught fire. Again Malcolm rolled over on his side so he could plunge face down in the cliff, again screaming in pain as shards of razor sharp rock rained down on him.
​“Malcolm?” Jaden’s voice grew feint. She received no answer. “Malcolm!”
​Malcolm rolled over on his back, coughing as the dust from the blast settled all around him.
​“We’re starting to come out of the valley, and when we do, we’ll lose contact.” There was a pause before the wizardess continued. “And if you can hear me, I want you to know … I want you to know that Cleo Bright is in love with you.”
​At this, Malcolm closed his eyes, his face covered in soot. He just listened.
“You don’t even need my abilities to recognize it. She never stopped watching you, Malcolm. From the first time she saw you as the intimidated, fumbling archer to the moment she came to your tent today, she never stopped.” For a moment the sapphire’s glow flickered. “I just wanted you to know,” she said again.
​All was quiet now and Malcolm was still. He had to admit, if those were the last words he ever heard, he could have done a lot worse. He was thinking about Cleo now. He could see her smile. He could hear her-
“Malcolm!” Ferris Lang’s voice thundered over the sapphire, and the unexpected sound startled the bowman out of his daydream. “You listening to me, Senior Bowman?”
Malcolm’s eyes flashed open.
​“We aren’t out of range yet, and I know you can here be 'cause this thing is still glowing in my hand!”
​Malcolm smiled.
​“This isn’t the end for you, kid, and don’t you dare think it! You wait for that shield to go down and then you cut them down, Malcolm!” His voice was cutting out, fluctuating and breaking up. “CUT. THEM. DOWN!”
​And the sapphire faded out.
Malcolm focused on his bow, reaching for it and wrapping his bloody knuckles around the grip. The hooded figures were just initiating another blast, the beginnings of that golden lightning cascading between their bodies. The world crawled to slow motion as the sacred focus returned to the whistler’s eyes. He was kneeling now, drawn back. Waiting.
​The comet blazed upward, and Malcolm fired.
The first of them threw up its arms in pure shock, falling backward without a sound as the arrow disappeared into its cowl. The second shot, released in blinding succession, collapsed another robed figure into the circle. The third released just as the magical blast arced overhead, and for a split second, Malcolm’s heart leapt as the robed figure jumped back, dropping its barbed wire staff in fright even as the shield deflected the arrow.
​Malcolm knew he was doomed, but he wasted no time. Spinning low to the ground, he withdrew another arrow from his quiver and held it to the flames where some of the brush was crackling at his feet. Then, with the arrow alight, he turned and snapped off a shot toward the body of Shane Bevan.
​Malcolm watched as the arrow flew, listened to the sound of it for the first time as it whistled to the ground. With a gruesome jerk, it lodged into the body, igniting the dry undergrowth meant to conceal him and setting it all ablaze. The echo stayed with the sharpshooter a moment longer, and when it died out he raised his head suddenly in the momentary glow of another comet.
​By the time he saw it, it was too late.
​The explosion sent a shudder through him. Rocks came down at him like an avalanche, and in the chaos his bow was wrenched from his hand, twirling through the air to explode on the rocks far below. He fell to his back, rolling sideways out of the path of falling stones, and his momentum carried him over the edge. He had dodged a killing blow by the avalanche, each stone threatening to send him down after his bow, to shatter as it had. For the second time he found himself dangling into this valley.
This time, however, he thought about something he never could have before. His strength seemed to be leaving him. His wounds from the rocks throbbed.
​He thought about letting go.
​There was no hope, he knew it. Even if he were to pull himself up his only reward would be enduring another blast, perhaps smaller with their diminished numbers, but there was nothing he could do to stop them.
​He looked down. “Don’t be stupid, Malcolm,” he said to himself, and then kicking his leg up over the ledge, he used the last of his strength and willpower to roll back onto the rock, struggling back to his feet as he did so.
The valley seemed especially majestic now, and as he took it all in, the feeling of being a part of it crept its way into his mind. Malcolm paid no attention to the three remaining hooded figures who were in the midst to reorienting themselves for another attack. He didn’t even see them anymore. Reaching down to his belt, he grabbed the pouch of feverlew, opened it, and poured the entire contents into his mouth, closing his eyes as it dissolved. Then he reached up and unbuckled the leather straps crossed over his chest, letting the quiver fall loose before tossing it over the edge. His dagger was next, still caked with the blood of Orinus as it too was hurled over.
The manic energy, more powerful than Malcolm had ever felt before, surged through his veins and into his mind like a sledgehammer, and he balled his fists with the sensation of being invincible. Another glance into the valley and he thought he might leap clear across it, over his enemies below, and run forever. Then there was something else; little pecks of cold as if the winter itself were kissing him.
Malcolm stared into the sky, spreading his arms and breathing the frigid air; wondering how long it had been snowing. He thought about Cleo, he could see her smiling at him. And suddenly she was standing there. Looking beautiful.
​“Guess this is it,” he said to her, knowing she wasn’t real. It didn’t matter. Perception was everything, and the hallucination was perceived real enough.
​“What are you doing?” she asked him.
​Malcolm said nothing, swaying slightly. Cleo leaned in closer and craned her head forward, and Malcolm did likewise, the two coming close enough for their lips to meet. “Grab the rope,” she said calmly, stopping just short.
​Malcolm made no movements.
​“Grab the rope!” she yelled. Malcolm flinched, the hallucination vanished, and he looked down to see the end of a rope at his feet. Following its length upward, he found Gabriel Foy standing there at the top of the incline.​
“Grab the rope, ya dumb whistler bastard!” he yelled, and by his appearance he was none too pleased.
​Reality slapped Malcolm like a whip, everything forced from his mind but the rope he grabbed; pulling so hard he almost flew up the slope. Gabriel Foy widened his eyes at the spectacle; obviously taken aback by the freakish, feverlew-induced pace by which Malcolm made progress.
​Just then, a comet obliterated the ledge on which Malcolm had stood, the impact forcing him forward to the ground, but with the drug setting his blood aflame he sprung back to his feet right away.
​“Girlie said you might be in trouble,” Gabriel said when Malcolm reached the top. He grabbed his hand and helped him forward. “And I should have left you down there! Playin' imaginary sucky face the nothin' while I risk my own skin up here!”
​“Cleo?” Malcolm asked. “Is she alright?”
​“Back to deliver your message,” he said. Malcolm was trying to catch his breath as Gabriel quickly untied the rope from where he had fastened it beside the cavern entrance. “How can you not have rope?” he asked. “In my day we always had rope.” When he finished wrapping it up around his arm, Gabriel leaned forward and put his hand on the whistler’s chin, guiding Malcolm’s face to his.
​“Your day?” Malcolm asked, not resisting.
​Gabriel ignored the question, studying the bowman’s eyes. “We also knew how to use feverlew in moderation,” and he turned to step away. “You have a problem. Girlie was right about that too.”
​“Yeah, well,” Malcolm glanced back to the slope. “A minute ago I thought I wasn’t quite long for this world.”

​Gabriel gave no indication that Malcolm had spoken at all, and just before they were about to step inside the cavern, he turned back to the bowman. “The dose coursing through you is not a fatal one, but you’re flirtin' with it, boy. You up for runnin'?”

​Malcolm was already glancing around Gabriel into the darkness.

“Are you kidding me? I just downed enough feverlew to run through this damn rock if I wanted.”

Gabriel snorted, turning back to the cavern.

Malcolm grabbed his shoulder, and the old man spun towards him.

“Thank you, Gabriel,” he said.

“Nothing to thank me for,” Gabriel shrugged. “It’s like I said,” he disappeared into the cavern. “I cannot abide useless people.”

​Behind him, Malcolm smiled. Then followed him into the dark.

STATIC

Chapter Twenty-Two  (13+) Objects in Space #2190517 by Dan Hiestand