Mr. Phibuli turned his head in the direction they'd come, opened his beak and emitted a shriek like a factory whistle.
Greg winced at the penetrating volume of sound. Mr. Phibuli stopped, but the echoes of his shriek lived on. He lowered his hand. "Well, that should give me tinnitus."
"Be ready," the parrot said, and flew upward into the darkness.
The last echoes died away to be replaced by the sound of running feet. Zared appeared on the bridge, trotting toward them with his robe flapping.
"What are you doing?" he hissed. "My mistress must not be disturbed!"
For answer, Greg socked him square on the jaw.
Zared rocked back on his heels, but didn't fall. He looked wide-eyed at Greg. "You shall pay for this!"
"Bring it on," Greg growled.
Zared backed away, and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. After a handful of seconds, he smiled. "She comes!"
Adena drew her pistol. "Get ready!"
Greg followed suit. Together they stared into the darkness toward the bridgehead where they knew the silver lady would appear.
She was not long in coming.
A glimmer of reflected light from their lanterns shone off something in the darkness, and then the silver lady strode onto the bridge and into their view. Her face showed no discernible expression, yet Greg sensed the annoyance emanating from her.
"I hope to God Mr. Phibuli knows what he's doing!" he said to Adena out the corner of his mouth.
"So do I — pray to that god of yours he does!"
Of one accord, they raised their weapons and opened fire. Bullets slammed into the silver figure. She rocked under the impact. Their fire had no apparent effect. The silver lady even looked bored.
Then she moved with a glittering blur of motion. One arm swatted Adena clean off her feet, sending her sprawling against the parapet. Greg flung up his good arm in time to ward off her first blow, but the next came at lightning speed, chopping across his ribs and hurling him back. Greg's leather coat took most of the force of her blow, but it packed enough force to make him gasp. Before he could react, the silver lady dropped to a crouch and swept a leg around in a scything arc that knocked his feet out from under him.
Adena had regained her wits. She scrabbled to recover her pistol and fired at the creature's head. Greg felt nauseated as he saw bullets smack against the thing’s shapely skull without doing any harm. The lead slugs fell to the ground, flattened and useless.
The silver lady blurred again and Adena's pistol flew out into the void. Adena took a punch to the stomach and doubled over. The silver lady made to grab her by the scruff of her neck, but Greg came up behind the creature and kicked the back of her knees.
Strong and agile as the silver lady was, simple mechanics caused her legs to buckle. She loosened her grip, and Adena rolled free, swinging a booted foot at her foe's head for good measure. The silver lady's head snapped back, but she shook it back into place. With a fluid motion she stood upright again and caught Greg by the throat in a vice-like grip. Swinging him out over the parapet, she hung him feet dangling over the awful drop.
Greg clutched at her hands, fighting to loosen the grip but with only one remaining hand it was a forlorn hope. The expressionless face was in shadow now, but he sensed her glare.
"This ends here," the silver lady whispered.
Mr. Phibuli dropped out of the darkness to land upon her head. His claws extended and dug into the silver surface, creating deep dents. The silver lady gasped and reached up to grab the brass parrot, releasing Greg in the process. He began to fall, and a scream formed in his throat.
The silver lady was gone, pushed out of the way by Adena. A strong hand gripped Greg's wrist, and his muscles and tendons screamed as inertia and gravity worked to pull him down.
"Hang on!" Adena shouted, bracing herself against the parapet.
Sweat broke out on her face as she gritted her teeth in concentration. Slowly she pulled Greg up and over the parapet to safety. He rolled, gasping for breath, feeling weak as the adrenaline surge collapsed.
Some yards away the battle between Mr. Phibuli and the silver lady continued.
"Traitor!" the silver creature screamed, her hands wrapped around the little brass shape with crushing force.
"I do what I must for my friends." Mr. Phibuli's voice sounded matter-of-fact in spite of the awful pressure on his body.
With these words his tail lifted. Gemstone eyes glittered as he looked at Adena and Greg. "Goodbye, my friends," he said, "and cover your eyes."
Adena grabbed for her goggles and lowered them over her eyes in one swift, practiced motion. Uncomprehending but with a sense of dread, Greg squeezed his eyes shut. A bright flare raised green and purple afterimages in spite of his closed eyelids. A rising scream hurt his ears, and he gasped in pain as the scream rose up the scale, terminating in a gurgle that sounded worse than anything he'd heard in his life.
Something crashed into the parapet. Adena cried, "No!"
Greg opened his eyes. The silver lady and Mr. Phibuli were gone.
Adena stood staring down into the darkness that yawned beneath the bridge. Greg staggered to his feet and went to join her. A distant crash echoed from far below. Adena turned to bury her face in his chest, and Greg put his arm around her, seeking comfort for them both.
"How did the parrot do it?" he asked.
"Mr. Phibuli has some form of energy inside him. He...he dumped it on the creature's head. I had my goggles on and saw it all. The thing just screamed then died. They went over the edge together. I...don't think Mr. Phibuli was alive when they fell. His eyes weren't glowing. Oh, Greg! He...he sacrificed himself to save us."
Greg held Adena tight and stared at the void. I
