The smile fell from Eanrin’s face.
“She would never love one such as you. Her heart is always with her people. Her heart is always with me.” Sun Eagle’s face was hidden from the bronze light, darkened by shadows cast from the Mound itself. But his eyes glowed with a spirit that had nothing to do with Cren Cru, a spirit that remained vital and resisting, deep in the center of his being. “Even as I wandered the Wood alone—even as I prepare to enter the darkness of my master—even in that darkness, her heart will always be mine.”
“Dragons eat you,” Eanrin whispered.
It was then that the Mound collapsed.
It fell away like a melting candle but left nothing behind as it went, disappearing into a swallowing emptiness, silently at first. Then the scream caught up—reaching out from the depths of Cren Cru’s pain into this world—and shot through those gathered, through the bloodied brawl beyond the bronze light, knocking warriors and beasts off their feet, leaving them curled up in sympathetic agony, clutching their ears.
Eanrin, his mouth twisted with pain, forced his eyes open. He saw the warriors, eleven of them now, none wounded from their fight so much as brought low by this shrieking that filled the worlds within their minds. They crawled in shuddering anguish toward their stones.
Something landed beside Eanrin. He turned, and to his great surprise, he saw Foxbrush lying as though he’d landed from a ten-foot drop, the breath knocked out of him but alive. Foxbrush also put up his hands to cover his ears, his mouth opening in a scream that could not be heard above the shrieking of Cren Cru.
Then, quite suddenly, the shrieking stopped, replaced by the roar of a great wind. It was enough to set the smaller of the Faerie beasts flying, caught up and hurled like dandelion fluff into the night sky away from the breaking center. The wind rose up from the black hole where the Mound had stood, swirling in a twisted rush.
Eanrin reached out and grabbed Foxbrush’s arm, and the two of them, straining against the wind, supported each other to their feet. They heard then a new set of screams.
Turning, they saw the warriors beside their bronze stones. The stones, larger than life, fixed into the turf, were melting. Runnels of liquid bronze ran down into a pool on the ground, steaming there before sinking into the dirt and vanishing.
And as the stones melted, the warriors themselves faded to wisps of nothing.
The giantess Kasa howled. Her stone broke at the sound and vanished in an instant. She herself, caught in the twisting wind, dissipated and was gone, never to be seen again. Her brethren, watching her fate, screamed with redoubled terror.
Foxbrush stared at them. Then he pushed himself from Eanrin’s grasp and turned to the one bronze stone that stood without its warrior.
“Daylily!” he gasped. Though the wind threatened to fling him off his feet as it had the Faerie beasts, he put his head down and started toward the stone.
“What are you doing?” Eanrin cried, his voice barely audible.
“I’ve got to reach her! I’ve got to find her!” Foxbrush replied, but since his face was turned away from the poet-cat, his voice could not be heard. But Eanrin read his purpose in the set of his head and shoulders, and the words of the ballad sprang to his mind.
No lance, no spear will save the night,
Nor bloodshed on the ground.
This alone will be your fight:
To hold your lady, hold her tight
When once again she’s found.
Eanrin leapt forward and caught Foxbrush’s arm. He put his mouth to the mortal’s ear and shouted to be heard.
“Grab the stone! Hold on to it and don’t let go!”
Foxbrush nodded and Eanrin released him. Another wail broke suddenly into nothing, and Eanrin turned to see that a second bronze stone had disappeared, taking its warrior with it. Then he saw Sun Eagle standing in stoic silence, staring at his own stone as it melted away. There was little of it left now.
“Lord, grant me strength,” Eanrin muttered between bared teeth. Then, the wind propelling him from behind, he ran to Sun Eagle and threw himself at the stone. He took it in both hands.
It burned.
“Dragon’s teeth!” Eanrin shouted and yanked his hands away.
Sun Eagle looked down. The wind should have knocked him over, but he braced himself against it, his shoulders back, his chest bare and covered in old bloodstains and scars. He was fading around the edges, losing his form and substance as the Bronze melted away. His long black braid whipped behind him, melting into the night, and his eyes were mere dark slits as he gazed at Eanrin.
Eanrin reached out to grab the stone again, cursing at the pain but determined. “Hold on!” he shouted, looking up at Sun Eagle. “Help me!”
Sun Eagle bent down, his face level with Eanrin’s. And the cord around his neck dangled, the bead with the white starflower flashing bright for an instant.