This particular elf was an idiot, as was proven when Alex raised his gun and whacked Betony in the head. He dropped like a rock.
“You guys need to get out of here.” Alex unhooked a big flashlight from his belt and propped it on a tree branch, throwing a yellow-white glow around the clearing. “Lafitte, you’re not hurt—make sure everyone’s in the transport.”
“Go with us.” I clutched Alex’s arm. “We can keep tabs on things and come back when it all settles down.”
Alex looked at the transport, at me, and back at the museum, where, so far, no alarms had sounded. “I can’t, DJ. I have to stay here and try to fix this so it’s safe for all of us. You and Jake and Eugenie have to go. Zrakovi still trusts me, mostly. I’m the only one who can do this, and you…” He paused and closed his eyes. “I won’t lose you. I’m going to stay here and fight for us. For what’s right. Even if it means fighting Zrakovi.”
I understood what that cost him. But we all had to draw the line somewhere. We all had to stand on our own Bridge at Khazad-d?m and raise our staff and say “You shall not pass” to the monsters of indifference and pride and ambition.
“You shall not pass,” I whispered.
Alex frowned. “What?” He turned as voices sounded in the distance. “DJ, you have to go.”
“Everybody get in the transport, and go now,” I said. “I’ll follow in a minute.”
I heard shuffling behind me, and Alex’s flashlight put out enough light for me to see in my peripheral vision that they’d transported out.
Then it was just Alex and me, him with a gun, me with the staff, face-to-face.
I dropped the staff to my side and he reholstered his gun, pulling me to him for a kiss that was teasingly sweet and achingly sad.
“Be careful,” he said, stepping back and nudging me toward the transport. “I’ll stay in touch and let you know when it’s safe to come home.”
I had a bad feeling about this. Alex was strong, but all of his potential allies had just hightailed it to the Beyond. There was only me.
I took a couple of steps, then stopped. “You won’t be able to fix this, Alex. Zrakovi knows I told Rand about his orders for me to kill the baby and now Rand will be after us, too.”
He looked at me and in his eyes I saw he knew the truth of what I’d said, but it was in his DNA to fight, to try and make things right, to work within the system.
I was Gerry St. Simon’s daughter and it was in my DNA to fight, too. But I had to fight the system from the outside. I prayed that when the fighting was done, Alex and I would meet in the middle somehow, and be together again in a world that wasn’t so broken.
You shall not pass.
“I love you, Alex,” I said, and took a step backward into the transport.
He stood there, a beautiful, genuinely good man who’d placed his loyalty in a system I no longer believed in. I whispered the words, “Old Barataria,” and as space and time compressed around my crushed heart, he dropped his arm to his side, and the light of the clearing shone on his tears.
The last words I heard were, “I love you too.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SUZANNE JOHNSON lives in Auburn, Alabama, and works as associate editor of Auburn Magazine. She is a veteran journalist with more than fifty national awards for writing and editing nonfiction. You can sign up for email updates here.