The blight rolled down the valley toward the town, splintering stone and felling trees—the ones that didn’t shrivel under its touch into hollow, twisted husks.
Maleshi nudged Cheyenne softly with her elbow and nodded. “Come on, kid.”
“What? No.” Cheyenne stared at the jagged black lines of magical destruction racing across the valley floor. An outcropping of boulders split apart as if it had been blasted and crumbled toward the town, leading the way. “We can’t leave them down there.”
“We have to.” Grimacing, Corian ran a hand through his tawny hair and hissed. “Doesn’t mean we have to like it, Cheyenne.”
The halfling turned toward L’zar, who stood on the higher side of the ridge and stared at the blight creeping down the valley. His glowing golden eyes widened, and the only sign that he wasn’t off in his own world again was that he stroked his chin and tilted his head when the streaking lines of his sister’s unchecked dark magic reached the outskirts of the town.
Cheyenne scowled at him. “So everyone’s suddenly—”
A scream rose, echoing madly across the stone valley. It was joined two seconds later by more screams and shouts of alarm, and the magicals meeting the blight below darted through the buildings were tiny moving specks within the black shadow sweeping across their homes.
“We have to do something. Seriously, does no one else give a shit?” Without waiting for a reply, Cheyenne took off toward the other side of the ridge.
“Cheyenne!” Corian took two steps toward her, but the screams from below made him stop to watch the devastation in morbid, guilt-ridden curiosity.
She raced past the staring goblins and the slowly trudging raug warriors, scanning the descent into the valley. I can make it. Just a few long drops, but I’ve jumped from higher.
Cazerel stepped in front of her to cut her off. “No.”
“We can’t stand up here and do nothing!” The shrieks and screaming grew louder, punctuated by more cracking stone and the buildings higher up the valley crumbling in on themselves. “I’ve seen what that shit does to villages. No one deserves that.”
“You are correct.” Cazerel’s eye twitched. “No one survives it, either.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” Cheyenne darted past him and slid on the loose layer of gravel and dirt, trying to gauge where she’d land before getting back to her feet.
“Cheyenne!” Maleshi and Corian exchanged glances.
“That’s something else, isn’t it?” L’zar muttered, unable to pull his gaze away from the destruction.
“So are you.” Maleshi’s scowl was ignored before she took off across the ridge to get to the halfling scrambling down the steep incline. “Cheyenne, stop!”
Cheyenne ignored the warning, paying attention only to the screams in the valley far below her. If I go to drow speed now, I’ll flatten myself at the bottom of this thing. Just when she got her footing and thought she’d try anyway, the ground lurched away from her, and she was flying back up the mountain toward the far side of the ridge. She landed with a grunt at Cazerel’s feet and scrambled away from him with a snarl. “What the hell?”
The bright white light of the raug chief’s spell crackled around his hand as he pointed at her. “Try it again, and I will drag you along like this until we reach our destination.”
She glanced down at the town caving in on itself, the magicals’ screams growing louder as they panicked and darted away from the blight taking everything from them. A burst of green light flared at the center of the village before the growing shadow snuffed it out.
“So, that’s your answer. Just let everyone else die.”
“No, Aranél.” Cazerel’s hand stopped glowing, and he offered it to the halfling to help her up. “It pains me to see anyone fall beneath that poison as well. You have seen what it does to villages, but I have felt what it does to the flesh.”
Trying to block out the screams, Cheyenne swallowed and pushed to her feet without taking his hand. “Then of all people, you should want to help them.”
“I do want to. I cannot. Neither can you.” Cazerel glanced quickly down at the town and scowled. “It’s too late for them, as it was almost too late for me. If you wish to kill yourself, by all means, die with them.”
Cheyenne clenched her fists. “There has to be something we can do. And maybe the blight doesn’t do anything to drow.”
“If the Healer were recovered, I might be willing to let you take that risk. Perhaps it would even be possible to save one or two of them, but without her, our only option is to stay above the darkness, yes?”
The screaming in the town suddenly changed to gurgling croaks and gasping breaths that echoed up to the ridge. Cheyenne clenched her eyes shut and forced her anger back down. Now it’s definitely too late.
“You cannot blame yourself for this, Aranél.” Cazerel nodded as the rest of their party crossed the ridge. Even L’zar had turned away from the destruction below to join the raug chief and his warriors, casting occasional glances at the town that now looked as abandoned as the skaxen village. “That same darkness nearly brought me to the deathflame. I’ve fought many battles and survived more wounds than I can count, but that?” The chief shook his head. “There is no coming back from that.”
Cheyenne opened her eyes and glared at him. “Unless you’re a raug who was healed by a fae.”
“Correct. You cannot say the same, and you have much more work ahead of you to bring the Spider to her knees. I also wish to see that come to pass.”
As the chief turned away from her to continue the trek, the valley fell silent. Cheyenne shot one more glance at the destroyed town and forced herself to breathe. It’s like nothing happened, and there’s nothing left.
She looked back at
