For the first time in her life, Solène no longer felt alone, as the song of all enlightened creatures that had ever existed welcomed her. She couldn’t understand them, but the sentiment was clear, like the welcome home by her parents that she dreamed of, but knew she would never have. It was a feeling of belonging. It was a perfect moment, one she wanted to remain in for as long as she could.
But there was darkness there also—darkness that balanced the light—and there was struggle, where the two met. That reminded her of who she was. Where she was. The peril they were all in. The realities of the world beyond that moment of perfection. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was back in the cave, in a space lit only by the magical orbs of cold white light she herself had cast.
When she looked at Pharadon, he gave her a sad smile.
“You’ve made the right choice. Welcome. Now, take the last Cup and go. Don’t look back.”
She took the Cup from a hand that was already starting to elongate and become covered with red scales.
“Pharadon, I —” Gill said.
“Help her with the goldscale, Gill. You are one who does the right thing, and this is the right thing.”
Gill’s mouth opened, but closed again before any words came out. The footfalls were no longer echoes, but distinct sounds. The Venori were close.
“Go!” Pharadon roared, now twice the size of a horse and more dragon than man.
Solène and Gill made for the entrance. She could see the pain on his face, which mirrored that in her heart. Each step away from their comrade tore at her heart.
The power the Cup had filled Pharadon with allowed his transformation back to dragon form to happen quickly, albeit painfully, with energy left over to shape magic. He didn’t plan on using magic, though—his flame glands had gone woefully underused in recent days.
Once he was fully returned to his natural state, he glanced at the passageway leading out of the chamber—far too small for him to fit through now. Gill was standing at the mouth of the corridor, silhouetted by one of Solène’s lights. He raised a hand in salute, then was gone.
Pharadon’s heart felt heavy for a moment. He had slumbered for so much of his existence, missed so much of the joy of life. It was easy to regret such things when near the end. Oh, but this, this would be something that would have been sung about by his kind—a noble battle, a good fight, facing a great malevolence as the best of his kind had. There would be none to sing songs of what he did here, but he knew he would fly the Fount’s breezes with his ancestors forever more, proud of the way he had lived his life. Prouder still of the way it had ended. His life, his deeds, would join the song.
He greeted the first of the Venori with a jet of searing flame that he knew would leave nothing but ash. Solène’s light was fading rapidly; Pharadon’s flame lit the chamber once more, this time bright red. The Venori charged, driven by the madness of their hunger and the succulence of the Fount that coursed through Pharadon’s body. They hissed and screamed, but the sounds were drowned out by the thunder of his flame. The temperature in the cavern rose like a welcoming embrace. It was no longer an empty, dead place. It was his.
The next group to rush forward received the same treatment, but they were followed by more, crawling out of the darkness like rats. Soon the cavern was full with them, and Pharadon knew there was only so much fire he could create. But it was ever going to be this way.
The newly arrived Venori did not attack. Their numbers swelled until Pharadon realised that they were waiting until their forces were large enough to swarm and overcome him in a single attack. If he was being given a respite, Pharadon did not intend to waste it. He concentrated the Fount into refilling his flame glands to the bursting point.
At last they surged toward him, howling with savage hunger. Pharadon tried to smile, but couldn’t in dragon form. How quickly he had become accustomed to being human. He lifted his right claw and plunged a talon into his throat, piercing both flame glands and allowing the entirety of their contents to mix in an instant. The cavern flashed bright as the energy exploded with tremendous ferocity, destroying all before it.
Now we are one.
CHAPTER 37
Gill and Solène didn’t stop running until they reached the mountain ledge. An incredible jet of hot air swept up the passage as they neared the exit. Gill felt the sickening realisation that it marked the moment of Pharadon’s passing. It was difficult to comprehend the idea that a dragon—the creature of childhood nightmares—had saved his life.
Outside the cavern, they fought to catch their breath. At last Gill drew in enough air to speak.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine,” Solène said, between laboured gasps.
It took him a moment to recall that she had drunk from the Cup, that she was now enlightened. He still wasn’t entirely clear on what that meant, though he found himself hoping it might provide a solution to their most pressing problem. Pharadon had flown them to that distant mountain ledge. Not only was there no obvious way down, they were a very long way from civilisation. He didn’t fancy their chances if they had to climb down and walk back to Mirabay.
“Do you think he managed to kill them all?” Gill said.
Solène smiled grimly and shook her head. “Most, but not all. Now that I know what to look for, I can sense them. There are more elsewhere, reawakening.”
“Wonderful,” Gill said. “We probably shouldn’t stay here any longer. Is there anything you can … do about getting us out of here?”
“No,” Solène said. “Wait. I. Oh … I think I can.” She straightened and took a long, deep breath. “Take my hand.”
Gill did as she asked. A gust of cold mountain air blasted him in the face and he closed his eyes against it. There were no mountains to be seen when he opened his eyes again. He and Solène stood on open grassland; the breeze was light and the day far warmer than it had been moments ago.
“Oh,” Gill said, wobbling on his feet. “Wow, that feels very odd. Ooooh.” The closest he could come to describing the feeling was that it was akin to the one he had after his third bottle of wine. The end result was the same. He threw up on the grass at his feet.
He felt a comforting hand on his back as he retched out the last of the nausea.
“Are you all right?” Solène asked.
“Ugh, yes. I think so.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have given you more warning.”
“I doubt it would have made much of a difference,” Gill said, standing up and drawing in a laboured breath.
“Probably not.”
“When did you learn how to do that?” Gill said.
“I didn’t. Not exactly. It’s all part of being enlightened. When I want to do something, I know how to do it. It’s strange. Overwhelming.”
“Does that mean Amaury can do the same?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Pharadon said something to me back in the temple, that many creatures can be enlightened, but not everyone is capable of being enlightened.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “But when I drank from the Cup, it felt as though I was being welcomed to something. Maybe that’s it?”
“So there’s hope?” Gill said.