'I didn't enjoy being your doll,' said Jandra.
'Then we won't be having tea with Mr. Teddy?' Jazz said, her voice mocking Jandra's accent. 'Fine. You still need me, Jandra. Those memories I gave you won't be of much use without me to guide you through them. And I kept a lot of the good stuff to myself. Wouldn't you like to learn to open the underspace gates? Wouldn't you like to tap into a thousand years of experience and wisdom without the tedium of actually having to trudge through all those centuries? Swear your loyalty to me Jandra, and I'll help you become a goddess.'
Jandra guided Zeeky behind her. Poocher came up next to her knees, grunting as he stared at Jazz.
'Godhood doesn't hold much attraction for me,' Jandra said. 'I'm having a tough enough time learning to be human.'
Jazz rolled her eyes. 'You're such a drama queen. Fine. You don't want to be my friend. But, we don't have to be enemies, either.' Jazz stepped aside as a glowing rainbow opened in the air behind her.
'Here's the door,' she said. 'It leads back to Shandrazel's palace, your old stomping grounds. Get out and don't bother me again.'
Jandra looked at the gate. It would be so easy just to grab Zeeky and leap for it. But, escaping Jazz wouldn't solve anything. If escape were all she wanted, she wouldn't have come back from the Nest.
Then, to her surprise, Poocher charged toward the rainbow and leapt in. Zeeky ran past her, grabbing her hand. In Zeeky's other hand, she cradled the crystal ball. 'Hurry!' shouted Zeeky, dragging her toward the gate.
Seeing a look of shock flash across Jazz's face, Jandra decided to trust Zeeky. She leapt once more into the place that was not a place.
The long-wyrms ridden by Palt and Adam lunged toward Bitterwood and the third rider took aim with his crossbow. Bitterwood stepped aside as the man fired. The bolt whizzed through the air behind him. Bitterwood shifted his aim from Adam to Palt's charging serpent. The creatures were more a threat than the riders. He let his arrow fly, targeting the long-wyrm's left eye. The creature jerked, its legs twitching spastically. Black sand flew as the long-wyrm crashed and Palt fell from his saddle. By now, Trisky was only a yard away, opening her maw wide. Without dropping his bow, Bitterwood drew Gabriel's sword, willing it to flare into white brilliance. He tossed the sword down Trisky's gullet and jumped away from her charge at the last possible instant. As momentum carried Trisky past him, he reached out and grabbed Adam's leg. With a violent tug, he tore his son from the saddle.
As Adam landed hard in the sand, the third long-wyrm rider reloaded. Before he could take aim, Bitterwood drew another arrow. He saw the skittish look in the long-wyrm's eyes. He released the bowstring and the man toppled from his saddle, an arrow jutting from his heart. The long-wyrm panicked as his rider fell, turning in a nearly perfect arc and darting once more into the forest.
Trisky's head was beneath the surface of the lake now. Water boiled up around her, white steam rising into the air. Her body was wracked with spasms as Bitterwood vaulted over her. He looked toward the first worm he'd killed. The rider was back on his feet, his sword drawn. Bitterwood fired his bow once more and the man fell to his knees on the black sand, a confused look on his face. Then his body sagged, and he fell to his side.
Bitterwood let out a long, slow breath. There was only one foe left. By now, Adam would be recovering from his abrupt dismount. Bitterwood clenched his jaws, contemplating the unpleasant task before him.
Jandra expected to land in the familiar rooms of the palace. Instead, she emerged from the rainbow back in the clearing where Bitterwood and Hex had been held captive by the vines. The same place she'd departed from to reach the Nest.
'What?' she asked. 'How did we-'
'I don't know how to open a gate into underspace,' Zeeky said, still pulling on her hand. 'But once you're in the warp, the villagers can push you out anywhere a gate has ever been opened. I don't understand how they do it, but it works; it's how I got you to find me. I couldn't leave Jazz's prison, though, because I couldn't reach a gate.'
'But we're still on Jazz's island,' said Jandra. 'If you wanted to escape, the palace would have been further from her grasp.'
'This is where the villagers say we should be,' said Zeeky. 'This is where your friend will be.'
'Do tell,' said Jazz, now standing in the clearing before them, a rainbow closing behind her. 'So, you can talk to your family inside. You've been holding out on me.'
'I'll never help you!' Zeeky screamed. 'You're a bad woman!'
'Oh, screw this,' said Jazz. Lightning wreathed both her hands as she lifted them. 'I'm through playing nice. You'll do what I tell you, girl, once I get rid of your would-be protector.'
Jandra suddenly felt as if millions of tiny hooks dug into her skin. She gasped as the hooks began to tug, ripping molecule from molecule. In seconds she would be torn apart, shredded to her component atoms by Jazz's nanites.
She lifted up her hands and watched her fingernails fly off into the breeze, carried by flecks of silver dust.
Bitterwood dropped his bow as his son climbed onto Trisky's corpse. Adam had his crossbow loaded. His visor had been knocked loose when Bitterwood had thrown him to the sand. His eyes burned with rage as he screamed, 'Why are you doing this? What can you possibly gain by defying the goddess?'
Bitterwood asked, 'What can you gain from obeying her?'
'I owe everything to the goddess! My mother was gone. You abandoned me! If she hadn't showed me her divine mercy, I'd have died as an infant.'
'Everyone dies eventually,' said Bitterwood.
Adam growled as he took aim. 'I'm weary of your mockery. To be smiled upon by the goddess is like being smiled upon by the sun. There is no better joy than to serve her.'
'Huh,' said Bitterwood. 'It's been a long time since joy motivated me. But I remember it. I remember the last time I felt happiness. You were there.'
'What do you mean?' Adam asked, still staring down the shaft of the bolt.
'Back in Christdale. I had two daughters by your mother, Recanna. You were my first son. I loved my daughters. I was happy. But the first time I ever held you in my arms, I felt something greater than happiness. You were my hope and my future, Adam. I could see myself in you. I looked forward to teaching you as you grew: how to fish, how to hunt, how to plow. I wanted to teach you everything I knew.'
'And what have you taught me now? Blasphemy? Hatred? Revenge?'
'This wasn't what I planned to teach you. I used to think of Christdale as Eden, even though times weren't always easy. We were farmers working fields full of stones. Most years, we didn't get enough rain. Other years, we lost the crops to storms and floods. Yet we endured as a community. We shared our food. We worked together to feed the children and care for the aged. I wish you could have grown up there. But then the dragons came. They ruined everything. I thought they'd killed you.'
'Earlier, you said you wished they'd killed me,' said Adam, lowering the crossbow.
Bitterwood nodded. 'I was angry when I spoke those words.'
'You're always angry!' Adam snarled. 'You've been hostile since the moment we met!'
'I know. And, I also know I could have killed you just now,' said Bitterwood. 'You were my first target.'
'I know you had me in your sites. Why didn't you fire?'
Bitterwood sighed. 'I almost died not long ago; I think I caught a glimpse of heaven. I don't know. It may all have been a dream. Still, your mother was there. When I cross over to the other side, if there is another side, I don't want to tell her I was the man who killed you.'
'I've already been assured of my place in heaven,' said Adam, aiming the crossbow once more. He stared down the length of the weapon to look Bitterwood in the eyes. 'Why shouldn't I kill you?'
'I can't think of any reason you shouldn't pull that trigger,' said Bitterwood. 'If you spare me, I'm going to kill your goddess, or die trying. I'm the antithesis of everything you hold as good in this world.'
'You're nothing like the man I used to dream about, the great dragon-slayer.'
'I'm not the man I used to dream about either,' said Bitterwood. 'But maybe today I found out something I didn't know about myself. Something that makes me think I might yet have a hope of heaven.'
'Go on,' said Adam.
'In twenty years, I've never changed my mind about a target. I've only aimed at what I hated, and I've always let the arrow fly. For twenty years, I thought that hate was the only thing left in my heart. But, Adam, even though time and fate have left us on opposing sides, I don't hate you. You're brave, you're reverent, you're merciful; you're everything I failed to be. One day something's going to kill you, son… but it won't be me.'
Adam stared at his father. He let out his breath, and lowered his crossbow.
