“Shanhaevel!” Shirral cried as the world pitched and rocked. “It’s not going to hold!”
As if in response to the druid’s words, the stairs cracked and crumbled beneath their feet.
“Do you have any magic?” Shirral asked, desperation in her eyes. “Anything that could—?”
“I won’t leave you!” he cut her off, shaking his head. “We can shout for help!”
“Use it!” Shirral said. “Cast something and get yourself out!”
“No! I can’t take you, and I won’t go without you!” The steps they were on suddenly shifted, and Shanhaevel was forced to leap back and away as the section dropped away into the darkness. He and Shirral were now separated by a large gap. Shanhaevel choked back a sob.
“No!” he screamed, reaching across to Shirral. Not when we’re so close!
Shirral looked at him, and in her eyes he saw the love she felt for him. She smiled, even as the section of stone beneath her gave way, and she fell.
“Noo!” Shanhaevel screamed, wanting to lunge after her, but he leaned wrong and was unable to get his legs under him. As he watched her slip away, he thought his chest would burst, but then, an amazing thing happened. As he watched, horrified, he saw the woman he loved transform, taking the shape of a small bird. In the blink of an eye, she was a sparrow, her wings beating furiously as she swooped up the shaft to the surface.
Laughing in delight and relief, Shanhaevel watched her go, gladness filling his heart. The earth shook, and before more of the stonework could break away, he began his spell. As he finished weaving the magic of the levitation spell, the stairs he was standing on gave way, and he found himself hovering in space. Trembling in relief, the wizard rose steadily as the walls of the shaft cracked and tumbled into the darkness below.
At the top, Shanhaevel found Shirral waiting for him, once again in human form.
“Why didn’t you just go?” he asked as they both ran toward the front of the temple, to the gaping hole where the front doors once stood. “Why didn’t you just fly out of here?”
“Because you were still down there,” she said simply.
When they were but thirty paces from the exit and freedom, a good portion of the ceiling crashed down around them, narrowly missing Shirral and grazing Shanhaevel’s leg. He tumbled forward, losing his balance, and felt his breath leave his body as he landed hard on his back. Sharp pain coursed through his wounded arm, and he fought to remain conscious.
“Come on!” Shirral urged, grabbing the wizard by the shoulders and helping him to his feet. Together, they stumbled the last few feet toward the exit, leaping through it and out onto the ground just as the remaining structure fell to ruin behind them.
Multiple rumbles shook the ground—aftershocks from the total destruction of the temple. Dust hung thick in the air, and the earth groaned. Shanhaevel lay panting in the snow, feeling it soaking into him as it melted rapidly, heated by the warmth of the spring sun. With a final exhausted sigh, the wizard rose to a sitting position.
A few feet away, Govin, Ahleage, and Paida stood, grinning at him. Between the knight and Ahleage, Draga reclined on a makeshift litter. His face, chest, and arms were a weave of bloody scratches. Though almost as pale as the surrounding snow, Draga was also grinning. Shanhaevel blinked in surprise, then laughed, smiling widely at Draga.
“I did not think we would see you again,” Govin said, genuine pleasure in his voice. “You have the blessing of Cuthbert himself, it seems.”
“So it would seem,” Shanhaevel agreed, finally feeling his breathing returning to normal.
“I thought we’d lost you,” Draga said, beaming at Shirral. “I was already imagining what I’d have to say to Jaroo when we returned to Hommlet.”
“Yes, well,” Ahleage interjected, “now she can imagine telling him what happened to her clothes.”
Ahleage squinted, watching the druid warily, but the grin on his face was broad and joyful. Beside him, Paida, who had Govin’s cloak wrapped around her, turned and furrowed her brow, glaring at the man.
Shirral scowled at Ahleage for a moment, her icy blue eyes flashing, but then she cracked a smile and laughed. Her laughter faded, though, when she saw the wrapped form of Elmo lying on a second litter behind them all. A single tear rolled down the druid’s cheek as she moved toward the huge axeman. She knelt beside his body and lowered her head.
Shanhaevel was tempted to move to her side, to try to comfort her, but something held him back. He sensed that she needed a moment alone, a chance to say good-bye by herself. Instead, he turned and looked at Draga, shaking his head.
“I thought I was seeing the dead when I first spotted you there. How on earth did you survive?” the wizard asked.
Draga merely shrugged, but Ahleage was quick to answer.
“Somehow, this lucky son of a sailor managed to land on the ledge of the shaft when he went over. After Govin and I managed to kill those other things”—Ahleage shuddered at the memory of the fiends—“we heard him calling. We had just pulled him back to the surface when the whole place crumbled down around our ears.”
“We waited for you as long as we could,” Govin added, “but when that last, strange flash of blue rippled through the place and everything began to come down, we could stay inside no longer.” The look in the knight’s eyes told Shanhaevel he wasn’t terribly proud of having left them behind.
“It was the right decision,” Shanhaevel said, and he meant it. “It would have been senseless for you to die if we had never come out.”
“I am thankful you did,” Govin said, “though I can’t imagine how you managed it.”
“That, my friends, is a tale to be told on the way back to Hommlet.”
Epilogue
The taproom at the Inn of the Welcome Wench was boisterous this evening. The five companions sat around a table piled with platters of food. Steaming meat pies, roasted chicken, huge hunks of cheese, cold milk, fresh bread, eggs prepared several different ways, potatoes, and assorted fruit covered the surface, and the members of the Alliance were heartily consuming the delicious food.
It had been three days since the fall of the temple, and everyone was healed and refreshed after recuperating from their exploits. Shirral snuggled next to Shanhaevel as they ate, feeding him bites of cheese between the occasional kiss. Paida and Leah joined them, Leah sitting with Ahleage and Paida relaxing between Draga and Govin.
Glora Gundigoot continued to bring fresh dishes of her wonderful cooking out to replace what was already consumed. Around them all, the local inhabitants of Hommlet, including the members of the council, drank, sang, and celebrated the Alliances victory.
Only Hroth did not participate in the festivities, sitting off to one side, nursing a cold mug and staring into the large fireplace. When Shirral spotted the captain of the militia, she slipped from the table and moved to the man’s side. Shanhaevel watched as the druid sat next to the captain and whispered something to him. She reached out a hand and took the older man’s in her own. Hroth smiled at her, and she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. He took her in his arms and hugged her tightly, then, a tear sliding down his cheek.
Finally, Shirral pulled away and stood, saying one last thing to Hroth. The man smiled and nodded, patting her hand before letting her leave his side and return to the table. When she sat down next to Shanhaevel once more, the wizard looked at her questioningly, and she leaned close and kissed him on the cheek.
“He’s a very sad man who will miss his son very much. I just told him Elmo had honored him with his bravery, and he should be proud.”
Shanhaevel nodded and took her hand in his own. He turned his attention back to the table, where Govin now stood, preparing to speak.