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chance to cut loose. To use every drop of her power in a meaningful cause."
"And perhaps to impress me?"
"Perhaps. Or to remind herself what she's capable of. Pushing the boat across
the bay... it hurt her, Phil, but she kept on going. Maybe it felt good to
stop pretending."
"Even if she dies from the strain? I've heard of psychics dropping from brain
hemorrhage if they push too much."
Annah dropped her gaze. "We all might die, Phil. We know that, but we're
still here."
"What about you?" I asked. "Please don't say you're following me too."
She gave a little smile. "Heavens, I'd never do anything foolish just for
aman. Women don't do that, do they?" Annah lifted her eyes to mine. "You tell
me why you keep going and I'll tell you why I do."
I thought about it. She was right this wasn't really about rescuing
Sebastian. I wanted to do that, of course; but that was just the job, not my
reason for doing it. I'd still have come this far, even if we were chasing a
complete stranger.
So why was I here? Why did I intend to pick myself up and keep going to the
bitter end?
Loyalty to my friends.
Curiosity about what lay in Niagara Falls.
Anger at the monster that killed Rosalind and a hope we could make it pay for
its crime.
The desire not to act like a coward in front of Annah. (How much of
everything done in the world is an attempt to impress the opposite sex?)
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But above all else... the feeling that I was finallydoing something. No
longer waiting for life to begin. Like Impervia and Pelinor, I'd always had a
secret belief I was destined for something more important than marking tests
and trying to keep my students awake until lunch. It was a ridiculous,
dangerous fantasy: an adolescent delusion that God would single me out as
special. Blame it on my privileged background, my vanity, or a simple lack of
common sense; but I'd always assumed I would someday hear the Call to
Adventure like some mythological hero.
Trials and tribulations. Physical ordeals. The love of beautiful women.
Tragedy and betrayal. Victory and vindication. Heroic joy, heroic pain, heroic
life, heroic death.
"I'm here," I told Annah, "because I'm an ass. There's a dead woman at my
feet, killed in an ugly ignoble way... and I'm still not as afraid of dying as
I am of being ordinary."
She took my hand my blood-smeared hand and pressed it to her lips. "Me too,"
she whispered. "No more being ordinary.I will drink life to the lees." She
paused. "Alfred, Lord Tennyson. 'Ulysses.' " She paused again. "I've been a
teacherway too long."
Impervia and Pelinor set off toward the central square, supposedly to scout
the town and make sure there were no more Ring thugs waiting in ambush. In
truth, Impervia was just too keyed up to stay in one place; Myoko couldn't be
moved in her current condition and Impervia couldn't bear watching helplessly
while our friend looked so pallid and frail. There was nothing anyone could do
except keep Myoko warm and hope her blood would soon start circulating
normally. That wasn't enough for Impervia: she went off on the prowl, and
Pelinor tagged along to keep her out of trouble.
I too was feeling keyed up. I trotted down to the lake to fill a canteen so
we could splash Myoko's face... then I couldn't decide if splashing would help
or just add to the level of shock. Every teacher at the academy had been
trained in first-aid; but our textbooks had been OldTech ones. That meant we
learned the best temporizing techniques OldTech experts knew, but most of the
write-ups ended with OBTAIN PROFESSIONAL MEDICAL HELP AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
We were four hundred years too late for that.
"She's waking up," the Caryatid said. Annah and I knelt beside her; we all
saw Myoko's eyelids flicker. As soon as her eyes opened they closed again,
squinting against the sun. We'd laid her in the brightest spot we could find
in an effort to keep her warm.
"How are you feeling?" I asked.
"Like shit." Her voice was a thready whisper. "Who's..." She couldn't finish
the question.
The Caryatid said, "Oberon died but took Xavier with him. Everyone else is
alive thanks to you."
"Okay... good..."
"Rest," Annah said. "Don't waste your strength."
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"Too late," Myoko whispered. "Way too late."
"Don't say that!" the Caryatid told her. "You'll be fine."
"Iam fine," Myoko said. "Did my bit. What I was... here for..."
"Myoko!" The Caryatid's voice had gone steely. "Goddamn it, don't youdare
surrender. It'sstupid. People don't just die when it suits them. Don't give
up. Myoko! Myoko!"
The Caryatid shook Myoko by the shoulders. Myoko's head flopped limply in
response. A little more blood trickled from her mouth. Then a bit from one
ear.
When the Caryatid let go, Myoko slumped to the sand. Bright sun. A spring
breeze. And death.
Impervia and Pelinor returned. With them came a wagon driven by two sullen
teenagers: one boy, one girl, both about sixteen, both with flaming red hair
and freckles, both glaring resentfully at Impervia. The wagon held a single
coffin.
"I found an undertaker," Impervia announced, jogging up ahead of the cart.
"It was "
"You only brought one coffin," the Caryatid said. Her voice was flat and
lifeless.
"For Gretchen," Impervia said. "There was nothing big enough for Oberon, and
Xavier can lie where he is. Let the crows pick at his..."
She stopped. She'd seen Myoko.
"We need another coffin," the Caryatid said.
Impervia closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. When she knelt
beside Myoko, she needed almost a full minute before she could speak the first
words of a prayer.
The grumpy teenagers were named Vickie and Victor: twin children of the local
undertaker. Pelinor prattled on about the whole family having bright red hair,
mother, father, all the children who'd been hanging about the shop. No one
listened to what he was saying, least of all Pelinor himself he was just
filling the silence, trying not to break down in tears.
Myoko was dead. Gretchen was dead. Oberon was dead.
Only ten minutes had passed since we leftDainty Dinghy.
The red-haired teenagers lumpishly hauled the coffin off the wagon and
dragged it to the jolly-boat. They set down the coffin beside Gretchen; I
suppose they thought Gretchen looked more dead than Myoko. Impervia
immediately broke off her prayers. "This one," she said, pointing at Myoko.
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