I dreamt. Of course. Awake or asleep I spent most of my life in dreamlands.
I was in the place of bones. Some great force troubled the plain. The bones themselves drifted on tides and currents. Scattered skeletons pulled themselves together, rose up and wandered aimlessly for seconds or minutes before falling apart again. Skulls turned to stare wherever I floated. Crows cawed drunkenly from perches in the few enwintered trees, afraid to fly because their equilibrium was all off and every straight flight nevertheless warped groundward where the stricken bird flopped and struggled amongst the bones like a moth caught in a spider's web. Dark clouds scurried across what had always been iron-grey skies. The wind was icy. Gusts made the bones rattle.
The smell of Kina was strong but I did not see her.
There was something behind me, though. I just could not turn fast enough to find out what.
Turning did inform me that I had some control, which I exercised immediately by wishing myself out of that place. Naturally, the move failed to be an improvement.
I went to the caverns of ice and old men. Those ancients made no sound but they were bickering. Something was in the wind. The smell of Kina was strong there, too, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Some of those old boys had their eyes open. They watched me as I passed.
Again I had the feeling that there was something behind me but saw nothing when I looked back.
I did have control. I followed the tunnel, eventually reached the place where the Books of the Dead rested upon their lecterns. The first, which the Daughter of Night had been transcribing, was now open to a page near the beginning.
The stink of Kina was particularly strong there.
I had no business in that place. There was nothing I wanted there.
Except out.
I tried to recall how I had gotten away last time. By just wanting to do it badly enough, I guess.
Darkness came.
It reminded me of something Narayan Singh said one time:
"Darkness always comes."
It seemed I was in the darkness a long time. Fear began to build. I reflected on just how right Narayan had to be.
Though it might wear a thousand different names in a thousand different times, and might come from a thousand different directions, darkness always comes.
When the light came back I found myself way up high above everything again. So high up, I was above the clouds that had been moving in as I headed for bed, leaving me at the mercy of those unfamiliar stars.
I picked out the ghoulish dagger constellation in the north, took a guess at the direction I had followed before, put on all the speed I could and dived into the clouds. In moments I was down where treetops whisked right under where my love handles would have hung had I had any belly at all. I thought I could learn to enjoy this if I could just get rid of the feeling that something was close behind me and gaining.
There were no lights down there this time. The whole world smelled of fear, as though every rock and animal and tree sensed something dire about to happen. I located a village. The entire population was wide awake, despite the hour. They huddled in frightened clumps, babies clutched tightly, livestock gathered into their homes with them. They did not talk much. The children whimpered.
How could they know what was happening at Overlook? Was there some prophecy or something that said tonight was the night the Shadowgate would go down? Had there been signs and portents unseen by me? Did they know anything at all? Maybe their terror had nothing to do with Shadowmasters or the Black Company.
I streaked onward. Far, far ahead the occasional spark flipped into the sky. Those had to be the home fires burning.
The quarrel with the shadows was not over.
It was a long night.
The Shadowgate had not collapsed. Not yet. Longshadow was still alive.
I recalled having no problems getting close to any she is the darkness when I did not have Smoke along. I headed for the flickering remnant of Longshadow's crystal chamber.
Soulcatcher was on her feet and in nasty form, carping at Howler. The screaming wizard hardly knew where he was. "Come on, you worthless ball of rags!" Catcher raged in a fishwife's voice. "We've got to get out of here before my beloved sister realizes the lovely chance she's missing!"
Her darling sister was on her way already, thanks to me. I was surprised she was taking so long. She seemed to have grown cautious in the last hour. Of course, she did have to slither through a long tunnel, then wander around a dark fortress, then make a long climb, all the while making sure no little shadows jumped on her back.
Howler let out a groggy, interrogative sort of cry. He was not yet clear on where he was or how he had gotten there. He concentrated on getting his feet back under him.
Catcher had to keep her back clean, too. She cast some little spell that sent a worm of light slithering into all the dark places in that tossed salad of a chamber. It rooted out several tiny shadows. They evaded the light easily. Soulcatcher cursed. "Damned thing isn't fast enough!" The shadows darted at Longshadow, who was in far worse shape than Howler. He was, however, more in touch with what was happening around him. He whispered a cantrip before the darknesses reached his shell. The little shadows spun and went after the invaders.
This battle would not end while he was alive, apparently. He was a stubborn shit.
Soulcatcher cuffed Howler around the ears. The fishwife's shrill insisted, "Come on! This place is going to be your death if we don't get" She sensed imminent danger. Lady was not far away now. "It's her." New voice. Baffled, frightened, childlike. "How does she dare? She can't have any real powers anymore. It doesn't work that way."
Lady was in the stairwell now. She did not seem afraid of a confrontation with her little sister at all.
She carried a bundle of short bamboo poles.
So did the dozen men behind her. They would be able to launch a small blizzard of fireballs. Those at the rear of the party backed up the steps. They kept poles ready to discharge at anything coming up behind them. The smell of fear grew stronger than the lingering perfume of Kina.
Soulcatcher thumped Howler a few more times, trying to get him to come alert. He remained too groggy to be much use.
She turned to the doorway. With some small but well-chosen spell she sealed it, then resumed trying to get Howler into shape for a flying escape.
The small shadows had gone into hiding again.
The door began to glow. Its surface rippled colorfully, according to the hue of the fireballs hitting its far side.
Soulcatcher produced a knife and slit Howler's clothing. I did not understand till she found what she was looking for. That proved to be a piece of silk, four feet by six when she spread it, and a little bundle of sticks. The silk rectangle became almost rigid when she spoke a certain word. It floated up off the floor like it was floating on the surface of a gently rippling pool. Soulcatcher broke the bundle of sticks and assembled them into a framework on which she stretched the silk. She muttered as she worked. The whole thing seemed much too fragile but in a minute she grabbed the Daughter of Night and clambered aboard. The carpet sagged but held their weight.
Sputtering, jerking like he was having a seizure, Howler staggered toward his stolen emergency conveyance. I wondered if this was his final secret or if he still had more flying tricks up his sleeves. I bet it was something like that piece of silk that got him out of dying, back when they thought he had crashed at high speed into the side of the Tower at Charm.
Soulcatcher did something incredibly violent. Most of the tower top vanished inside a globe of white light. The flare was so brilliant it betrayed every shadow slithering through the night but temporarily blinded half the men trying to exterminate them.
When the light faded a third of the tower's crystal roof no longer existed. Soulcatcher snagged Howler by the hair, dragged him onto the carpet, said some word that started the tiny thing moving.
It began to sink almost immediately. It barely cleared the turret. Then it went down, down, toward the unfriendly folks and unfriendlier shadows hunting one another amongst the rocks below. Catcher did not want to go down there but the carpet was overloaded. It was designed to help the runt get out of a tight spot, not him and all his friends and neighbors.
The smell of Kina grew stronger again. The whirlwind of rage was coming back for one more try.
The goddess did not want her daughter carried off.
The brat's eyes were closed inside her egg. That had proven to be flexible and slick when Soulcatcher was slinging it around. The kid's face bore that serene expression she got when she was communing with Kina.
Lady and her cohorts burst into the chamber where Longshadow and Narayan Singh still groaned and twitched. Fireballs routed the small shadows instantly. Seconds later a stream of fireballs reached down for Catcher and her companions. None hit home but they did alert our troops that something was on the fly. Anything that flew would not be friendly.
Kina's interest and anger heightened fast. A hurricane screamed in the ghostworld. Her stench leaked over into the real world. Men heaved up their last meals. The sky darkened more than the night and clouds insisted.
The earth shook.
The throne shudders and slips a thousandth of an inch. The tortured figure groans. Its blind eyes flutter.
One crow cackles.
The bird fails to recall that it dares not rest. Its claws touch down atop the sleeper's head. Before its wings finish folding it begins to scream. Small shadows have found it. They squabble over its life force joyfully.
The earth shivers. There is no silence anymore. Stone is broken. It continues to break. The light in the abyss is brighter. Pastel, gossamer mists rise like the questing tentacles of a sea anemone.
There is color. There is life, of a sort. There is light.
There is death. The crow shrieks out its pained outrage.
And dies.
Death will find a way. Darkness will find a way inside. Darkness always comes.