Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

away into silence. He could feel the Beast’s presence beating on the air all around him. Its power was growing.
    I
could run and get away. I could run even now. But I won’t
.
    He breathed deeply and was surprised at how shaky his breath was. He sheathed his own sword and looked down at Wolfsbane. His hands were sweating, and he rubbed them dry on the sides of his trousers. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so scared in his life. He knelt down and took hold of Wolfsbane’s hilt, being careful to avoid touching Hammer’s severed hand. He straightened up slowly. The sword was uncannily light in his hand, despite the great length of the blade. It glowed brightly, but it was not a healthy light. And finally MacNeil discovered why Hammer had always been so reluctant to draw the Device.
    Wolfsbane moved in his mind, a soft, seductive whisper that spoke of power and destiny, and appealed to all the dark dreams and fantasies he’d ever had. MacNeil shuddered helplessly as the alien presence seeped slowly through him like a horribly sweet poison. No wonder Hammer had fallen so quickly under the Beast’s control; with two such forces warring for control within him, it was inevitable that he would fall to one of them. MacNeil shook his head to clear it, and stepped forward to the brink of the ledge. There was something he had to do, and he was going to do it, despite everything the Beast or the Device or his own fear could do to stop him.
    He clutched the leather-wrapped sword hilt with both hands, and held the Infernal Device up before him, blinking at the brightly shining light that burned in the blade. He stepped carefully forward onto the very edge of the narrow stone ledge and looked down.
    MacNeil remembered the demons in the long night, how he’d wanted to turn and run. He had always looked on his fear as a secret weakness, a flaw in his character he could never forget or forgive. He had always thought of himself as strong, and despised weakness in himself as he despised it in others. But now, standing alone on the ledge and looking down into the single great eye of the Beast, he finally knew the truth. There is no shame in fear, only in surrendering to it.
    The Beast was awake at last, and when it came into its full power it would destroy the world and remake it in its own awful image. Once before, in the time of the Darkwood, he had vowed to die rather than to let such a thing happen. His vow still held, and scared as he was, his duty and his honor gave him the courage he needed to do what was necessary. He thought briefly,
Why me?
The answer came back:
Because there’s nobody else. Because it’s your job. Your responsibility
. He remembered his vow of vengeance to the dead children, and his resolve hardened a little more. He sighed once and lowered the great sword so that its point was facing down toward the huge eye.
    Goodbye, Jessica, Giles. I was always proud to work with you. Goodbye, Constance. You turned out to be a damn good witch, after all. And Salamander
…
I’m sorry about that village
.
    The Infernal Device screamed with rage in his mind as it finally realized what he intended to do, but it was too late. MacNeil flexed his feet, feeling the ledge under his heels and the emptiness under his toes. He smiled wryly. He’d never liked heights. He took a firm hold on the sword hilt with both hands, bent forward, and jumped out from the ledge, diving headfirst toward the Beast.
    The freezing air rushed past him as he fell, the Infernal Device held firmly out before him. The sword and the Beast screamed soundlessly in his mind, and he laughed at them both. The eye rushed closer, ever closer, the shimmering silver and gold rising to fill his vision, until all he could see was the eye, growing larger and larger, a sea of dazzling light. And finally the sword plunged into it, driven by the horrid weight of his long drop, and MacNeil and the sword disappeared into the body of the Beast. For a long moment there was only silence, and then the Beast screamed, on and on and on.

7
----
Leavetakings
    The scream broke off abruptly, and the voice of the Beast fell silent forever.
    In the cellar, the mists began to fade away. They sank back into the stonework and disappeared, leaving no trace of their passing. Without the gathering fog, the torch light was suddenly brighter, less diffuse, and the shadows were no longer quite so dark. The Dancer cut down the last two trolls in the doorway, and then looked around,