“No, Emuel,” Silus said, climbing towards the eunuch and the dragon. “I’m not going to let you put our entire existence in jeopardy, just because you have fallen for some giant lizard. Now step aside and let us do what we came here to do.”
“Silus, I told you to keep back,” Kelos said. “We don’t want you changing again.”
“And now you’re going to use Calabash just as you have used me, is that it?” Emuel said. “Don’t you understand that this is where I want to be?”
“Emuel, listen to yourself, you’re being ridiculous,” Katya said.
Now that Silus was closer, he could see just how truly angry Emuel was. His flesh, where it wasn’t inked, was red, and his breathing laboured. It was clear that there was to be no reasoning with the boy. To either side, Silus could just see Dunsany and Kelos drawing close, their swords in their hands as they advanced on the dragon. For now, the eunuch was holding the beast in check, but how long would the dragon remain calm as Emuel’s anger rose?
The shadow of the dragon fell over them all as it unfurled its wings. Silus could feel the heat, and smell the foetid stench, of its breath. Even so, he kept his attention focused on Emuel.
“This is not an argument you can win,” he said.
“Out of all of us,” Emuel said, “I would have expected you to understand.”
The eunuch took a step towards him. Behind the boy, the dragon shifted, sending more shale skittering down the slope.
“Silus, I’m telling you, you have to get away from there!” Kelos shouted.
“I can’t do that, my friend. I’m the only one who can deal with this.”
“And why is that, may I ask?”
Silus stared at Emuel as his hand went slowly to his side.
“Because,” he said. “I’m the only one of us who would even contemplate doing this.”
And before Emuel could respond, Silus had drawn his dagger and plunged it into the eunuch’s side.
Silus was surprised at just how little the eunuch weighed. He felt no more substantial than a bundle of cloth-wrapped twigs and jolted about just as loosely as he stumbled back down the slope with the boy in his arms. Behind them, the dragon squealed in pain as Dunsany and Kelos finally attacked. Despite its massive size, Silus had no doubt that they would fell the beast. But right now, that was not his main concern. Emuel had only moments before he would be beyond them.
Ignoring the sounds of battle, and the shocked faces of Katya and Zac as he hurried past them, he gently laid Emuel at Keldren’s feet.
“Quickly, heal him!” Silus said, looking up at the wizard.
“What?”
“I said heal him, now. ”
“I… I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? You once told me that you’re one of the most powerful sorcerers on the peninsula.”
“And I am, but I have no more magic to draw on. It took virtually everything I have to bring us all here. And then there were the orcs.”
“But… but can’t you do something? Gods, please tell me there’s something you can do!”
Emuel’s eyes were open and rolling wildly as he tried to focus on his surroundings. Seeing Silus, he tried to lift himself on his elbows, but the effort and the pain it caused proved too much for him. The scream rising from his throat came out as a gurgle. Blood flecked his lips.
“I’m so sorry, Emuel,” Silus said. He had not expected it to come to this; he had made a gamble and this wizard had failed him.
“Silus, what have you done?” Emuel whispered.
“Keldren, do something!” Silus grabbed the wizard and pulled him to his knees. “For the sake of Kerberos, please do something!”
But the elf looked at him blankly and, with a sound of disgust, Silus pushed him away.
“I can fix this… I can fix this,” he said, tearing a strip of cloth from his shirt. But the bandage was too short to wrap around Emuel’s torso and even if it hadn’t been, the thin muslin did little to staunch the flow of blood.
“Katya!” Silus shouted. “Come here and keep pressure on that wound. Don’t let go.”
As Katya held her palm firmly against Emuel’s side, Silus blew air into his lungs, pumping his chest with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking.
Even when Keldren’s shadow fell over them and the elf said, “He’s gone. There’s nothing you can do now,” Silus carried on. Even when Katya got to her feet and backed away, looking down in horror at her husband, he continued to try and force life back into the boy. But with each palpitation of Silus’s palms against his chest, Emuel flopped like a rag doll, and soon his flesh was too cold for life to ever return.
Silus got to his feet and saw Kelos looking at him. The wizard was covered from head to toe in the dragon’s blood; the sword in his right hand was broken at the tip.
“I thought that Keldren would heal him,” Silus said. “Can’t you help him, Kelos? Can’t you bring him back?”
“I’m sorry, Silus. But there’s nothing that I can do.”
Silus looked down at Emuel. The boy swam in his vision.
“You killed him! You killed Emuel. What were you thinking?” From the look on Katya’s face, she clearly wanted to strike him.
“I thought that Keldren would save him,” Silus said. “We have to get home, Katya. What would you have done? When was the last time you had to make a tough decision?”
Katya simply stared at Silus for a moment, and then shook her head, grabbing Zac’s hand and walking away. The boy looked over his shoulder at his father, tears pouring down his face.
Silus was done with this; done with everything. He looked up at Kerberos.
“Do something,” he whispered, but the god remained impassive, and Emuel didn’t stir.
Silus wiped the back of his hand across his face. “Kelos?”
“Yes, Silus?”
“Did you get what we need?”
“Yes.”
“Then can we go home?”
“Yes, Silus. Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY- FOUR
The palace at Da’Rea sat listing to one side, like a ship taking on water. Almost half of it had fallen into the tunnels beneath the city; the remaining portion was a blackened skeleton, its grounds littered with the corpses of dwarves and elves alike. Silus could see no sign of Orlok and his comrades, and he wondered whether the dwarf was amongst the dead or whether he had abandoned the city after the destruction of the palace. The bay was crowded with the wreckage of ships, some still ablaze. In a few places he could see survivors clinging to the flotsam, calling out to compatriots or giving voice to their grief or pain. Very few vessels had survived the assault, but Silus was relieved to see that one unharmed song ship remained, still anchored at the quay.
Keldren looked at the ruins of his former home and Silus saw the beginnings of tears in the wizard’s eyes.
“Did we have to return?” he said. “There is… nothing left. If you’re trying to make some sort of a point…”
“I take no delight in your suffering, Keldren,” Silus said. “We have returned because we need that song ship.”
“I don’t understand. Are we going to sail through time?”
“In a sense, yes.”
In the world’s Ridge Mountains they had made a pyre for Emuel’s body, laying him beside the corpse of the dragon. Katya had enfolded the boy in one of the creature’s wings; Silus had been about to ask her why, but the look she gave him halted the question before it could be formed. It had taken them many hours to collect enough wood for the blaze — little grew this high above the world — yet Silus had endured the search in silence, a penance that was not nearly enough to pay for what he had done. When the wood was ignited and smoke began to shroud Emuel’s body, he had wished that Bestion was still with them. The priest would have known what to say, would have sent Emuel’s spirit into the hereafter with a few suitable words. As it was, no one came forward to say a eulogy for the boy. All stood in silence as he burned. At one point the wood beneath Emuel shifted, sending a sheet of lilac flame high above the pyre, and, for a moment, the hiss of escaping gas sounded like a voice raised in song.