Nightrise

faces. Matt, Flint, Inti, Scar. They were all strangely alike, all fixed in silent concentration and he knew that they were feeling exactly the same as he was.
    The King of the Old Ones was no longer there. It was as if he had been turned into smoke that was already drifting away. The Five were standing in a circle, their blades still touching, but with an empty space between them. And nothing could reach them. Although the fighting still continued all around, it was as if they were inside a crystal jar. Swords flashed but the blades broke in midair. Spears and arrows rained down on them but bounced off uselessly. The condor plunged toward them in a last, desperate attempt to reach them but its outstretched claws suddenly shattered and it was sent spinning away, a shapeless ball of feathers and blood.
    Jamie wondered if he had been more badly hurt than he'd thought. Was he dying? All the sounds of the combat were very distant. There was a great rushing in his ears and a sense of something flowing through him. The Five were cocooned, completely safe, at the very center of the battle but apart from it.
    And now something even stranger was happening.
    The five of them seemed to be moving, turning slowly as if they were on a merry-go-round. But it wasn't they who were moving. It was the world that was moving around them. The field and the forest and the hill were spinning faster and faster until they no longer existed. They had become a blur, nothing more than a streak of color that swirled around them with no beginning and no end.
    There was an ear-shattering crack. Jamie looked up.
    The sky had opened. A chasm had appeared, the very fabric of the day peeling back to reveal a universe filled with stars. At the same time, the wind was howling. It had formed a tornado that was tearing up clumps of grass and pieces of earth. First dead bodies and then living ones were being pulled into it and carried away through the vortex. With every second that passed, the process was becoming stronger and faster. One after another, the servants of the Old Ones were being taken, spinning helplessly as they were carried up. Jamie watched them as they were pulled into the void and knew that he was partly responsible for what was happening. It was his power that was doing this. His and the other four's.

    The remaining fire riders had gone, ripped off their horses and blown away like rags. The fly soldiers had disintegrated. The spider and the hummingbird — all the giant animals — were no more than specks, spiraling ever farther upward. Finally, the dark shadow that was all that remained of Chaos was sucked in, following them into oblivion. And then at last it was over. The tunnel closed up behind them.
    The wind died down. There was a distant rumble of thunder and the sky rolled back, closing off the darkness, healing its own, self-inflicted wound.
    The Five stood in silence.
    "Sapling…" It was Flint who had spoken. But Matt raised a hand, holding him back. Not yet.
    Scar stepped forward. She was staring at something high above her, shielding her eyes. Jamie looked up and saw that at last the clouds had parted and the sun had been allowed to show its face.
    "So that's what it looks like," Scar muttered. "I always wondered." She turned to Matt. "What does it mean?" she asked.
    "It means that it's over," Matt said. "We've won."
    EIGHTEEN
    Under the Stars
    They stood looking at each other, the five Gatekeepers: Scar, Inti, Flint, Matt, and Jamie. None of them spoke. Too much had happened, too quickly. Jamie only knew what Scar had told him, a very small part of the history that had brought them all here today. But he understood that a journey had just ended, and it was one that had taken their entire lives.
    All around them, everything was changing. And it was happening with incredible speed. The Old Ones had brought the planet to the edge of destruction, polluting the water and darkening the sky. But now that they had gone, the world was restoring itself. The rain had stopped as quickly as it had started and the ground was already dry. The clouds had parted as surely as if they had been curtains waiting to be pulled and the sky on the other side was a dazzling blue, the sun already spreading its warmth over the ground. And with the coming of the sun, true color had returned. The forest, which had seemed black and gray, was now many shades of green. The pine trees were somehow less threatening, the grass softer and more natural.
    The