26
Longshore, after a very hard night:
Snow, ash, rock and vampyre dust shot high in the air, obscuring the rising sun. A tremendous impact had hammered the mountain like a fist of the gods. Of the dragon, cursed prince and green spy-eye, there was no sign at all, while a conflict arose up above.
All at once, the entire eruption halted in place. Just stopped, looking like an aerial still-life of rock, dust and snow. On the ground below, mortals and elves ceased their ant-like scurrying, locked into place beneath the gloom of that enormous grey cloud. One by one, the gods appeared. Not just above, but kata-ward.
Firelord first, without his sword-arm.
“Show yourself, Winter!” he challenged, armored and blazing, bright as a world-ending comet.
Hyrenn, Lord Winter, took shape from part of that impact cloud. He was a towering figure; fierce, cold and proud. Surrounded by skeletal horses, damned souls and baying, blood-maddened hounds.
“I do not come at your call, Shining One,” hissed Lord Winter. “Nor do I bow to your will. The elven prince is accursed. You may have cheated to shield your favorite, but this one dies!”
She-of-the-Flowers and Loeth manifested next. The one was no warrior at all. The other was present because of her shard-sister, and a certain strayed priestess. Now, the spider-goddess folded several pairs of chitinous arms, saying,
“There is measure in all things, Winter. The boy was willing to give up his life, and vengeance ill becomes a god.”
“Silence, Darkling! No minion of mine betrayed us to the invader!” howled Lord Winter, sounding shrill as a gale screaming down through a mountain pass.
“Nor any of mine,” put in She-of-the-Flowers, wreathed in springtime and flowers and light. “But that is beside the point, Hyrenn. What matters is that all three have paid in blood, shame and pain. Very much, have they paid.”
Frost Maiden must have agreed, because the slim, icy goddess manifested nearer to the others than she did to Lord Winter. Protector of babies, young children and all who fled from the hunt, she’d been a chip that sheared off of Hyrenn, after the first awful breakage. She was her own person now, though, and not just her parent-god’s follower.
Chezzik turned up next, flattened and upside down, but nobody laughed. He scarcely noticed. The youthful trickster god was nervous, keeping a two-dimensional eye out for Oberyn.
Ashlord spun Himself out of rock-dust and clattering scree, saying nothing at all. Didn’t have to, as he’d arrived pointedly closer to Hyrenn than anyone else. The Silent One’s vote was clearly not ‘mercy’.
Lake Master, TTN-iA and Istara manifested themselves after that. They weren’t shard-lings or splinters but second-tier gods, formed by worship or happenstance. Last of all, still in his battle-seared avatar, came Builder of Cities. The mech-god recalled three speeding drones, partly retracting his missile launchers and arm cannons. Didn’t lower his target-lock, though, and didn’t take charge. Just arrived to stand beside Firelord, making his loyalties perfectly clear.
“You are outnumbered, Lord Winter,” said the Shining One, stepping forward a bit.
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“And outgunned,” murmured Builder of Cities, who’d been freed on a very short pass.
“So, the traitors learn nothing. Suffer no permanent consequence,” grated Hyrenn, flowing aggressively forward.
‘In fact,’ signed Ashlord, ‘All three have been sheltered throughout, and rewarded.’
Firelord didn’t flinch at his shard-brother’s accusation.
“I stand by my actions,” he snapped. “Galadin lost everything but a marriage he never wanted. That is the lot of a noble, but the heart goes where it will. It is the prince that we speak of here, though, not my sword-arm or the priestess of Loeth.”
“And the matter is closed,” declared Oberyn, appearing precisely between the two groups, just as the Wild Hunt surged forward, missiles were launched and the lake ice broke up into daggers.
The Lord of the Dawn looked bleak and exhausted, but He shone with a blistering light. The other gods bowed, flitting aside like dried leaves (but not before one of those straying missiles and a firebolt cratered Hyrenn’s left shoulder.)
“All three curses have ended. You shall not interfere any further. Any of you.”
And they did not.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Down in Longshore, in the path of a thundering avalanche:
Alexion’s last conscious act as the sword-arm of Oberyn was to cast a shield over the village, dragging everyone else underneath with main force. Ice and stone rattled against the ward’s surface. The ground rumbled and bucked underfoot. Ashes hissed and swirled, gritty and dark. Half a collapsing mountain roared past them, straining Alexion’s shield to its limits. Already drained, he couldn’t maintain that flickering barrier.
Alyanara and Korvin took over when the emperor fell, using their manna to strengthen his crumpling shield. Then the rumbling flow was upon them.
Filimar was an earth-mover. He divided the landslide into two mighty streams, but he didn’t do it alone. Valerian seized his heart-brother’s groping hand, adding his own strength to Filno’s.
A torrent of stone and snow and uprooted trees rumbled past on both sides and over the top. It was too much for a pair of young elves, but then Lerendar added his bit, taking Val’s free hand with Andorin, Bronn and Elmaris.
Princess Marika commanded the rushing ice, diverting its fury with help from Panya and Alfea. Keldaran stopped Meliara from joining in, to save her faltering little one. He pushed her at Lady Katina, then added his own might to the chain of struggling elves.
Meanwhile, the paladins knelt down to pray, calling down Oberyn’s might and protection. All around them, terrible pressure and noise like thunder and whale song hammered their warm little circle of life.
Honey prayed, too, but with one eye open, searching for… There! A flicker of green!
“Genna!” she howled, leaping back to her feet and pointing upward at tons of rushing grey snow. “She’s in there! I see her! We gotta help Genna!”
Just a sparkle of greenish light, blazing atop something darker and terribly flop-limbed. Brother Humble scooped the girl up and boosted her to stand on his muscular shoulders. Sister Constant and Brother Arnulf asked no questions. Just rose in a clatter of chainmail and weapons to seize and brace their brother-in-Oberyn.
Their shield was close to collapse, despite all that Filimar and Marika could do to force back the avalanche. Valerian saw its runes, though. Reached out with a thought and flipped them a bit, enough to let Honey reach through as if wearing a pair of shining magical gloves.
The girl stood on tiptoe. She plunged both arms into crushing snow and tumbling rock, stretching toward that tiny shimmer of green.
“C’mon, Gen,” she wept. “This way! Right here!”
Hallan left off tending the villagers. With a bound, he clambered onto the orc and seized Honey’s waist, lifting her higher. A very disguised Miri swarmed up as well, adding runes of protection and strength, taking hold of the other girl’s ankles.
Honey swam her way into that roaring tide. Battered, half frozen, she wouldn’t turn back. Just stretched for that tiny green light, her lifeline a grip at her ankles.
Numbed fingertips brushed cloth and what felt like an arm. Desperately jerked one leg free to reach a bit further, taking hold. Started to pull in her catch, kicking her pent leg to let them know: pull us in!
An uprooted tree slashed past. Then a boulder scraped by, along with… maybe a wolf cub? No hands free, but Honey did not shake the thing loose when it buried its teeth in her trembling right arm.
She was hauled backward one-legged. Out of a gritty, dark, cold-crushing nightmare, willing that tiny green light to keep shining. Far beyond her own strength, Honey held onto a limp arm and torn cloth.
Then, she was back through the main shield. Embraced, warmed and prayed over, as someone poured conjured day-brew into her mouth, and a little green light flickered out.
