Of Truth and Beasts

His features glistened with a feverish sweat and were so twisted that Wynn couldn’t tell if he was the same elder from before. Then she saw his blade coming again.

Deep-Root tried to block. The stonewalker’s blade slipped off the object Deep-Root held up and tore down the left side of his scaled armor. Wynn heard steel-tipped scales screech under its passing.

Deep-Root cried out as he jerked his last dagger free. He slammed the long, crusted object into his attacker’s face as he raised his blade. The stonewalker’s head jerked in another spatter of calcified stone. Deep-Root swung downward, and his blade sank point first into the neck of the stonewalker’s armor.

There was a wet, grating sound, like steel across stone—or bone—but the stonewalker didn’t fall. He reeled back, his mouth gaping as he choked. Blood began seeping between his teeth and over his lower lip.

Wynn heard Deep-Root’s dagger clatter on stone as he looked in horror at what he’d done. More footfalls and shouts echoed through the caves, growing louder and closer. Deep-Root raced across the cave and into a wall.

There had been no choice in what he’d done, and Wynn knew this. But in the darkness of stone, her own shame began to grow. She realized what he was about to do.

Deep-Root leaped out of stone into the dragon’s deep cave. Mute whimpers escaped his mouth with each sobbing breath.

Wynn heard the echoes of pursuit rolling in from the tunnels above this place. When Deep-Root raised his sagging head, for a moment all she saw was a watery blur through his eyes, until he dragged the back of his hand across his face.

The dragon stood waiting in the middle of the viscous pool. It hung its head, its breath weak, but it gave Deep-Root not a moment’s rest.

Strike below my last rib, upward into my chest, as if toward a heart. But only when I have begun my last flame and swallowed it down. Only then ... only upon my command.

Deep-Root raised the stone-covered object in his hand.

So much of its mineral crust had broken away that Wynn saw parts of a long, thick blade. He grabbed the lumpy hilt, breaking away the remains of calcified fingers. With one hesitant glance up the sloping passage, he gripped the cleared hilt and slammed the crusted blade against the cave’s wall. He beat it again and again until the sword’s blade was nearly clear.

Every ringing blow sharpened Wynn’s panic. It would be heard everywhere in these tunnels.

A shout erupted just before a splash.

Deep-Root turned wildly. Another of his brethren splashed toward him through the pool, and then came a slap upon stone that hummed through his bones. Up the sloping tunnel, another stonewalker had her hand firmly against the tunnel’s rough wall. The sound of a blunt impact and rapid splashing pulled Deep-Root’s attention the other way.

The dragon’s head slammed against the wall as it staggered sideways in the pool. A stonewalker whipped an iron staff back for another strike.

Deep-Root splashed toward the dragon, but the beast suddenly righted itself.

Its head whipped around, its maw widening, and then it dipped its head and its mouth snapped shut with a crack. Half of its assailant vanished amid torn bowels. Spatters of blood rained down on Deep-Root.

Wynn suddenly shrieked, though it was Deep-Root’s voice that cut loose. He arched away from a deep pain in his back so sharp that everything dimmed before Wynn.

When her sight cleared, she saw that he’d turned, knocking aside someone’s arm. Yet the pain only increased as he chopped down with the sword. The blade cleaved through a young stonewalker’s skull, and Wynn saw the dwarf’s face split open.

Deep-Root groped at his lower back, and Wynn felt the protruding hilt that he grabbed.

Now ... before our deaths are wasted.

Deep-Root instantly released his hold on the blade in his back and turned.

The dragon lifted its head toward the cave ceiling. Amid a nerve-tearing clack of its jaws, flickers of fire rose between its teeth. Wynn thought she heard Deep-Root whispering something, over and over, but she was lost within herself.

If she’d been there, she would’ve done anything to help him. If nothing else, she would’ve thrown herself in front of any adversary to give him even one more moment to succeed. Inside of him, inside of this memory, she couldn’t help but wonder ...

Would she be trapped here to end along with him?

Deep-Root rushed in, placing the sword’s point against the dragon’s side, still whispering frantically.

Remember him ... his words ... our end, my children.

Before Wynn fathomed those last leaf-wing whispers she heard, Deep-Root threw his bulk against the sword.

A world of fire erupted, and then there was only whiteness. There was no one left to hear the silence in place of those gale whispers.