Morgawr by Terry Brooks

He had been navigating the passageways for several hours, lost in his thoughts, when he became aware of the fact that Ryer had stopped crying. He glanced down at her in surprise, but she kept her face buried in his shoulder, pressed against his chest, concealed in the curtain of her long silvery hair. He thought that she might be working her way through her grief and should not be disturbed. He let her be. Instead, he concentrated anew on regaining the surface. The debris that had clogged the lower corridors was not so much in evidence here, as if the explosions had been centered more deeply. The air seemed fresher, and he thought they must be close to breaking free.

He found he was right. Within only minutes they passed through a pair of metal doors that stood unhinged and ajar, ducked under the collapsed framework, and stepped out into the open. They emerged from the tower into which Walker had disappeared days earlier, there in the center of the deadly maze that had ravaged the remainder of the company. It was night still, but dawn’s approach was signaled by a faint lightening along the eastern horizon. Overhead, moonlight flooded out of a cloudless, starlit sky.

Ahren stopped just outside the tower entry and looked around cautiously. He could trace the outline of the walls of the maze and discern the clutter of broken creepers and weapons. Beyond, the ruins of the city spread away in a jumble of shattered buildings. No sounds came from that wasteland. It felt as if they were the only living creatures in the world.

But that was deceptive, he knew. The Mwellrets were still out there, searching for them. He must be very careful.

With Ryer still clinging to him, he knelt and put his mouth to her ear. “Listen to me,” he whispered.

She went still, then nodded slowly. “We have to try to find the others—Bek and Tamis and Quentin. But we have to be very quiet. The Mwellrets and the Ilse Witch will be hunting us. At least, that’s what we have to assume. We can’t afford to let them catch us. We have to get out of these ruins and into the cover of the trees. Quickly. Can you help me?”

“We shouldn’t have left him,” she replied so softly he could barely make out the words. Her fingers tightened on his arms. “We should have stayed.”

“No, Ryer,” he said. “He told us to go. He told us there was nothing else we could do for him. He told us to find the others. Remember?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We should have stayed. He was dying.”

“If we fail to do what he asked of us, if we allow ourselves to be captured or killed, we will have failed him. That makes his dying an even bigger waste.” His voice was low, but fierce. “That isn’t what he expects of us. That isn’t why he sent us away.”

“I betrayed him.” She sobbed.

“We all betrayed each other at some point on this voyage.” He forced her head out from his shoulder and lifted her chin so that she was looking at him. “He isn’t dying because of anything we did or failed to do. He is dying because he chose to give up his life to destroy Antrax. He made that choice.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Listen to me. We serve him best now by honoring his last wishes. I don’t know what he intended for us, what he thought would happen now that he is gone. I don’t know what we’ve accomplished. But there’s nothing more we can do for him beyond getting ourselves out of here and back to the Four Lands.”

Her pale, drawn face tightened at the harshness of his words, then crumpled like old parchment. “I cannot survive without him, Ahren. I don’t want to.”

The Elven Prince reached out impulsively and stroked her fine hair. “He said he would see you again. He promised. Maybe you should give him the chance to keep that promise.” He paused, then bent forward and kissed her forehead. “You say you can’t survive without him. If it makes any difference, I don’t think I can survive without you. I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it hadn’t been for you. Don’t abandon me now.”