Miranda's Giants, Chapters 14-17... the end

Chapter 14: Fire!

The tapestry caught fire instantly, and in a few seconds was engulfed in flames. Howling, several goblins burst out from behind it, only to trip over Zeke’s toppled stands. Miranda ran, gritting her teeth against the scorching heat, dragging it across the tapestries she passed. She paused momentarily, looking over her shoulder. Most of the pillars were knocked over, goblins were stumbling and confused by the smoke, and the fire had spread itself along the tapestries toward the door. Some had fallen from their rods, and she saw with horror that the floor had started to catch fire too. The other wall of tapestries had somehow been ignited, probably Zeke’s doing. Turning back to the dais, her heart clenched.
In a corner, her father lay perfectly still, unconscious or dead, Miranda couldn’t tell. Dead goblins were scattered over the dais, but there were more than there had been. Shade stood, blocking her father’s body, his right arm gripping a struggling, choking king and wielding his sword with blinding speed and accuracy with his left. How long could he keep up? Miranda knew that even Shade must have a limit to his ability, and the position he was in, pressed all around by more than twenty goblins, was a near impossible one. Without thinking, Miranda pulled down one of the tapestries, bundled it around the torch, and hurled it straight into the ranks of goblins. Not waiting to see how well it worked, she turned to the Wanderers, still engaged in their own struggle at the end of the room. She needed to get help. Stumbling, coughing on smoky air, scorching her feet on the hot and burning planks of the floor, she missed her footing scrambling over a fallen incense stand. She fell, rolling to the side, but before she could regain her feet, something grabbed her ankles. The flame-wrapped, smoke-filled throne disappeared. She was in a tight, tunnel-like room, and she could smell that goblins had been here. She blinked groggily at the shadowy shape of Jack. Or were here. She rolled to her knees, unable to stand in the cramped space. She was weaponless, head spinning and smudged with smoke.
“Hello again, missy. Let’s finish this business, shall we?” Jack licked the edge of his curved knife, grinning wickedly.
“What do you want with me now?” Miranda asked foggily, swaying a little. “The giants are dead, so you can’t want me for them, right?”
Jack’s eyes hardened. “I’ll pay you back in full for all you did to them!” he screamed. “I’ll do to you as I did to old Tytis! I’ll make you beg for mercy ten thousand times before you die!”
He swung at Miranda, but in his haste and anger the stroke was wild. She lurched forward and caught the wrist that held the knife. Jack struggled, but Miranda held on doggedly. Her strength was all but gone, but she dug deep, searching for the willpower, that adrenalin surge, that had powered her before. With his free arm, he threw a hard punch at her head, trying to knock her out. She dropped her head and the blow skimmed through her hair. Grabbing his other wrist, she held firmly, trying to bend the knife hand back against the goblin, but to no avail. Helplessly, in a blur of confusion, Miranda saw only one way out as she stared at the angry red eyes inches from her own. She leaned her head back as far as she dared. With all the speed and force she could gather, more than she thought possible, she brought her own head forward, cracking against Jack’s skull. Astonishingly, he didn’t move. The eyes glared on at her for one more long second, and then seemed to be snuffed out. His body went limp then, and he crumpled to the floor. Miranda, gasping for breath in the thinning air and almost senseless, released his body and fell back, looking up through a small opening into burning timbers, smoke, and a deserted room above her. She had to get out, out of the tunnel, out of the flaming throne room, before the blackness to her. If she let her eyes close, she would never open them again. She reached up, grasping the edge with her fingers, pulling with the little strength she had left. Whimpering with the effort, muscles shaking and near useless, Miranda dragged herself up. Her head emerged into the smoke-confused air. She forced her shoulders through, then with a struggle, she shifted her grip, scrabbling her feet, kicking Jack’s body in the process, and pushed. She was on her feet now, her torso sticking out the hole once shrouded by a tapestry. Cinders were scattered over the floor, some patches blazing more freely, the whole place patchily engulfed and, as far as Miranda could tell, empty of all things living. She stretched her arms out, bracing them against the floor, ignoring and in fact scarcely noticing the fire brushing her skin. Squirming like a tick she wriggled, rolled, and pulled. Halfway out, up to her knees, her feet caught on something for a moment, then, with a kick, she was free.
Exhausted, she collapsed, not caring about the flames that licked eagerly at her clothes and hair, or the hot coals the ground against her. The darkness was washing over her, but then she remembered her father. Was he dead? She had to go to him. He might need her help. She tried to sit up, but her muscles were done. She raised her head, tried to speak, and coughed. It was coming again! She could not stop the blackness! As the inexorable dark swept over her, panic rising in her, the scream was ripped from her. “Dad!”

Chapter 15: Aftermath

When the fire had blossomed in the throne room, the battle had swung in the Wanderers’ favor. The goblins were terrified of the flames, and caught between them, the pillar obstacle course, and the Wanderers’ swords, they were thrown into confusion. Some cut down their own, others ran onto their enemies’ swords, and still others tripped and sprawled, yowling, until a blade sought them out.
Shade was not sure how it had happened. One minute Ian was fighting like fiend at his side, pressed into a corner. Then a big goblin spat a strange guttural word at him as he swung his knife. As the blades met and clashed, Ian’s shattered and he crumpled to the floor. Shade stepped in front of him, cutting down two goblins at once with seemingly careless stroke. As he turned to face the goblin who and knocked down his friend, he blinked. In a mere second, the goblin had disappeared, and the furious but terrified king faced Shade. Taken by surprise as he was, Shade reacted with catlike speed. He caught the king in a choking grasp.
“Ware! Shall I kill your king?” Shade threatened as the goblins pushed forward. They hesitated briefly, then yelling, charged. Shade had his hands full for a long minute. At last he earned a brief respite as the goblin wave backed off a little, preparing to charge again. With an expert flick, he parted the skin on the struggling king’s neck just enough to draw blood without seriously injuring him.
“I mean it!” Shade warned.
“Back off, you fools!” The king gargled at the goblins. They hesitated again, unsure what to do.
“Do as he says, or he’ll never give orders again,” Shade said, sword raised, ready to strike an attacker or threaten the king. Still the goblins wavered, and then something happened. A bundle crashed into their midst, bursting into fire. The goblins shrieked and fled, slapping at the flames the licked at them. Shade flung the king from him with such force that he crashed into the wall and lay stunned. Shade stooped over Ian. Quick fingers told him that his pulse still beat. He was only unconscious. He stuck his sword in its sheath and grabbing Ian by the shoulders, half dragged, half carried him down the steps of the dais. His men were dodging flames, coughing, cutting down the odd goblin.
“Shade!” A dark-haired man scrambled over to him. He stood breathing hard, and through a hasty salute. “All visible goblins accounted for. Two of our own fell, and four more are unconscious. Juno has a broken arm, and others have sustained injuries of varied severity.”
“Out!” Shade called to the others, gesturing to the door. “Carry our comrades.” He turned to the man who had spoken to him and a few others who had reached him. “Take him out,” he said, nodding to Ian, “this place doesn’t have long left, so be swift.” He turned, scanning the fire light and flickering eerie shadows for any sign of Zeke and Miranda. He was acutely aware of the smoke building up against the ceiling, a countdown on their lives. He spotted Zeke about ten paces away, on his hands and knees, picking his way carefully but quickly amid the blazing coals and stands. The boy had apparently learned some of his father’s skills in his short years. Stooping low, Shade ran to him. Grabbing his arms, he dragged the boy away from the tangled mess of tumbled stands. Together, bent almost double, they ran to the door. Shade, glancing from side to side as he passed, could not see a trace of Miranda in the singeing heat and gloom of the room.
“Zeke, where is Miranda?” he asked.
Zeke shook his head. “I was trying to find her.” He gestured back over his shoulder towards the dais as the stopped near the door. “I lost sight of her back there. I thought she was with you.” Fear tinged his voice, and he turned to go back, ignoring the fire, the smoke, the leaping breathable danger in the throne room.
Shade caught his shoulder. “Go!” he said hoarsely. “Your father is hurt and needs your help. I’ll find her. Just go!” He gave Zeke a determined shove out the door and the worst of the smoke and fire, took a deep breath, and plunged in.
It was like walking into a lion’s mouth, going back into that death trap. Shade had had a hard fight of it, following a swift march and no sleep the night before, and his leg had been badly gashed. He could feel his strength slipping away. His head was spinning, and he tried to focus his eyes as he hurried with all the speed he could manage back across the room. Zeke could do nothing here, but what he wouldn’t give to have Ian and his skill here now! The fire was building steadily, though not advancing as swiftly as there was less ready to burn fuel. But there was still wood to burn, and as the smoke thickened above him, blotting out all light, Shade knew his time was short. He had almost failed Miranda twice before. He couldn’t fail her now.
“Dad!” The cry was faint, scarcely audible through the pervasive crackle of the flames, but Shade heard it; knew the voice that uttered it. He veered toward it, his bad leg caught on a fallen stand, and catching himself with his good arm, rolled free to find himself almost on top of Miranda. Her face was smudged with soot, and he thought he made out burns on her arms. Her clothes smoldered in places and he quickly ground them out. She appeared to be unconscious, but he forced himself not to stop and think, not to wonder how she had come to this point. Both of their lives depended on his speed in getting out. Dimly, he thought he heard the ceiling above them sighing. They definitely didn’t have much time. He was surprised at how light she felt and he hauled her body clear of the wreck of stands and bodies. He pulled her as he had her father minutes before, but his leg burned with a fire of its own now. The world spun, and knew he was on the verge of passing out. He slid to his hands and knees, breathing slowly, trying to force his body to wait on really breathing until they were clear of the fire. Holding the girl’s body with one arm, he dragged himself forward in an awkward sliding crawl, bringing his right leg, almost useless now, and Miranda, with him. Only twenty feet now. He focused his mind on counting down so that he would not lose his grip on consciousness. Doing that would spell death for the two of them. Fifteen now. Ten. He was almost there, but at the moment it seemed eternal. Then he heard a crashing overhead, swift and repetitive. A draft drew the flames upward, roaring in sudden greed. A loud hiss answered, and the black smoke suddenly doubled around him, only the new stuff was whiter. The heat, egged on to a new intensity, was no longer the skin and throat drying heat it had been. It was soggy, hellish, and intense. Gasping, no longer able to restrain his breathing, Shade reached for his last desperate reserves of strength. Only five feet now. Three. Two. Appalling sounds resounded in the blazing throne room behind him, but he was scarcely aware of them anymore. He never could remember that last foot afterward, breaking out into the hall, and the darkness of unconsciousness.

Chapter 16: Out Of The Ashes

News travels fast in towns as small as this, and after the battle and the fire in the tower, the whole town had been subdued. The king was reportedly dead, and still no one was sure where the prince was, though some claimed to have seen him at the fire with a young boy. Had they asked Zeke, he could have told them it was Natyan they saw with him, when he had gotten permission to have the lightest men and boys follow him into the room above the throne room and hack strategic holes in the floor, venting the room below and pouring buckets of water in to quench the flames. But no one knew where he was, and few cared. What they did care about was having their prince back, to go back in time more than twenty-five years before, when old King Tytis was himself and the kingdom well-governed.
Now, almost a month after the fire, it was putting itself back together again, cheering up when word came that the prince was safe and alive, and the war with the goblins was over for good. Colorful banners hung from every house, the market rang with laughter and song, and all the people were working themselves up for a really tremendous party. For the first time in twenty years, things were going to be more than alright.
On the wall top, five figures were seated, sharing stories, the past comfortably behind them. Miranda toyed constantly with her hair, which had been burned short in places and singed in general in the fire. She couldn’t wait for it to grow. Shade still favored his bad leg a little, but all other traces of the fight and the fire had been swallowed by the past.
“I still don’t understand why you started the fire in the first place,” Shade remarked as he rubbed a piece of wax over his bowstring. “It did give us an advantage, but the whole tower could have been ruined, or even collapsed while we were inside.”
“Maybe,” Miranda answered a bit skeptically, “but I knew we had to do something drastic, and quickly, and that was all I could think of. Anyway, the tower’s stone, so it couldn’t have done too much damage.”
“Oh, yes, it could have,” Natyan said. “I mean, it could have damaged the structure so much as to jeopardize it in later years. But it doesn’t matter. I plan to have it torn down anyway. It’s seen too much lurking evil to be safe.”
“Where were you when we were burning throne rooms and threatening goblin kings?” Ian asked.
“In prison,” Natyan said flatly. “They ambushed me in my chamber and locked me up. Next thing I knew, there was all this commotion, and then the guards unlocked the door. When we came up to the first level, smoke was pouring out of the throne room and Wanderers were hurrying everyone out. Then,” he nodded to Zeke, “he came to me with an idea and asked for my permission. I gave him full rein, knowing his father had professional skill in the extinguishing of fires, and guessing the boy might have learned some of it from his father.”
“Sort of,” Zeke said. “But in our world, it’s not really the kind of thing you can just pick up at home.”
“Maybe not,” his father said, “but you certainly learned enough.” He smiled. “Well done.”
There was a moment of silence in the group, perhaps the first. This was the first real opportunity they’d had to speak all together, and had been talking almost non-stop for well on an hour. Now everyone sat, absorbing the story as a whole.
Miranda suddenly remembered a question she wanted to ask. “Who was Tytis?” she asked.
“He was the king,” Natyan answered.
Miranda cocked her head. Now that didn’t make sense at all. Shade didn’t look up from his bowstring. “What are you not telling us, Miranda?” he asked.
She couldn’t help smiling. She never would get used to him reading her thoughts. It would be a relief to tell. “Zeke said that, in the throne room, he saw me, and then when he looked again, he couldn’t see me. It was because a goblin pulled me into a tunnel guard room space, behind where one of the tapestries had been. It was Jack,” she added.
Shade looked up quickly. “The same one who first captured you?”
She nodded. “The very same. He threatened me, and I conked him with my head and managed to get out again.” She hesitated, wondering just of what significance her next bit of information was.
“What did he say when he threatened you?” her father asked.
“He said,” she took a deep breath and said it in a rush. “He said he’d do to me what he did to old Tytis.”
There was a deep silence. Shade absently rubbed his hand on the wood of his bow, frowning. Then he shifted, met Ian’s eye, and nodded. He nodded back and they both glanced at Natyan.
“So that’s how he died,” the prince said quietly. “I’ve long wondered what became of my father.” He sighed. “Somehow I always hoped that he was alive.” He looked up at the others. “At least I know for certain now.”
“Shade,” Miranda began, not turning her eyes from the prince, “what is it you and Dad know that I don’t understand?”
“You’re better at thought perceiving than you give yourself credit for. The goblin’s king was charmed up to appear not only human, but like King Tytis,” he explained to Miranda and Zeke. “All they had to do then was murder Tytis and install their king in his stead. We lived through the havoc it wreaked. I couldn’t make it out for a long time, why he acted different and was so – unkingly. Not until after the battle. When did you guess?” he asked, turning back to the prince. “You clearly knew something that day we made our battle plans.”
The prince shrugged. “More than a year ago I worked out my suspicions. I’ve been in quest of the proof since. That was the final missing piece. We were lucky to get it, and I thank you.” He directed the last part to Miranda.
She smiled a little, but sadly. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged again and stood. “I must go, friends. I have business in the town below.” He disappeared down the steps to the wall, leaving them to their thoughts.
Shade finished with his bow and leaned back against the wall, staring at the silhouette of the tower, scarring the sky. “It’s been a long hard road we’ve come on, friends,” he remarked, “but isn’t it good?”
“I never thought it would come out this way,” Miranda admitted.
“I suppose the chink will be open,” Zeke said, sounding regretful.
Miranda looked up at him. “Yeah, I know.”
“I sort of almost –”
“Exactly!” she interrupted. “But we couldn’t unless –”
“I got you!” Zeke said excitedly.
Their eyes met and they said together, “Smar-ret!”
“I think it’s our turn to be missing something, brother,” Ian said, smiling. “And by the way,” he added, “they do that all the time at home. What’s the big idea, you two?”
Miranda blushed and Zeke shifted awkwardly, neither wanting to say what both were thinking. Zeke coughed. “Well, you see, we both were thinking the same thing, but, well, Miranda, why don’t you tell him?”
Miranda dropped her eyes and shook her head. “You’re doing fine,” she mumbled. Then she nodded, and looked up. “It’s just that we don’t want to go.”
She thought she saw her father wink swiftly at Shade, but she couldn’t be sure. Completely serious, he asked her, “Why, don’t you have all sorts of friends back home? And what about all the stuff you learn in school?”
She snorted, a soapbox triggered. “Oh yes, all sorts of friends like Zeke, or those nice kids at school who would spit at me soon as look at me, or Zeke either for that matter. I learned more from books and from the stuff you told us on your hours off than I learned in one school year, unless you count how to spot and dodge bullies. I learned that from experience at school. If that’s what’s keeping us back, then –” she broke off abruptly, noticing her father was grinning at her and shaking his head. “What?”
“Well, actually, I’ve been thinking of finding a way to get you out of that school for some time. But I have two jobs back there. How do you see to fix that?”
“Oh.” She glanced at Zeke, who was frowning in concentration, and at Shade, who appeared entirely absorbed in running a sharpening stone over his sword blade. “Quit, I guess,” she said in a subdued voice. She sighed. For one brief moment there, she had felt a flare of hope that somehow, possibly, they might be able to stay in this world forever, but it was quenched now. How could she ask her father to quit his hard-won fire job where he had worked so happily for so many years? She shrugged and tried to look casual. “I guess it might be good to see that old place again,” she said, without much conviction.
“Oh, I hope not,” her father said cheerfully. “I’ve already arranged a job fighting a different kind of fire. I thought you two would want to stay, but if it really is so important to you to go back, I suppose we could change things.”
“You mean, you were playing us like fish all that time?” Zeke exclaimed.
“Meet the slightly dark side of your father, king of leg pullers,” Shade said smiling. “You left him too good an opportunity to miss.”
Ian laughed. “Says the riddle king.” He winked at Miranda. “If you’ve had a conversation of any real length you’ll know that much.” Miranda rolled her eyes and smiled in memory. “But yes, Shade and I are scheming dark plots again. We’ll have to go back for a bit to tie things up over there, but I’ve probably already been fired for taking an unarranged hiatus. Once we’ve done that, we’re coming back.”
“For good?” Miranda asked breathlessly, hardly daring to hope again.
“For good.”
Not until that moment had she realized just how important it was to her to stay. She let loose an inarticulate sound of joy, lunged forward, throwing her arms around her father and nearly wringing the breath out of him. She hugged Shade, practically knocked Zeke over, and bolted for the stairs. In her present state, she felt she could step off the wall and soar, but she didn’t try it. Instead, she tumbled down, laughing, crying a little even. “Just wait till I tell them!” She shouted over and over, almost dancing in the street.
Zeke picked himself up and dusted off. “I always said Miranda was full of the unexpected. But I never quite expected quite all that,” he added.

Chapter 17: The End

“Dad, how will the next tenants who get the apartment after us not discover the chink?” Miranda asked. She was hopping nervously from foot to foot outside the Sheque’s cottage. Great herds of people had turned out, eager to escort the company to the cottage, but one by one, group by group, they had turned back, bidding farewell to the Castors. Only a handful of Wanderers remained – those who Shade had not sent out to hunt down the goblin remnant.
“If you keep this side closed, no one will find anything,” her father explained. “That’s why it was so shocking that I found my way here in the first place.” They were sitting beside the brook, taking a break after the morning’s hard work. They had been working with the Wanderers to clean the cottage up, clearing away what scars they could of the dreadful scenes it had been witness to. Much still remained to be done, as there was still structural damage from the giant’s banging on it with his club and the stone wall had not yet, of course, been rebuilt. But it was a beginning, and the cottage could shelter the small guards the prince intended to post there, and who were at this moment on their way to relieve the Wanderers who would keep watch until they arrived.
Miranda felt much more comfortable in the cottage now; it felt homey, like a place where someone would want to live, not the lonely husk it had been. “How will we get back, then?” she asked.
“I told them to wait a month. That will give us time to pack, close up your school matters and my work matters, pay the back rent, and in short, get ready to scram. After that has passed, they will open this side every evening, keeping close watch over it until morning, until we return.”
“But time here is different than ours, isn’t it?” Miranda asked. “I mean, Zeke came here almost a week after I did, but it was only the next morning for him.”
“Oh, yes, the times are different. It’s hard to say exactly, for it varies by a few minutes each time, but it equates to about one day here for every hour there. I will have been gone for close to a day and half when we get back. Thankfully I’m on my four days off at the fire department, but Attila the Boss will have my skin for a scarf.” Attila the Boss was a not-so-affectionate nickname the Castors had for Ian’s boss at his Coast Guard job. She was an uncompromising spitfire of a woman, short, but making up in strictness and ear-shattering volume what she lacked in stature.
“How are you going to explain your absence to them?” Zeke asked.
“Oh, I’ll probably say that I was detained by rogues and only just managed to escape with my life, something like that. True enough, but it’ll be a good thing I’ll be leaving before too many awkward questions are raised.”
Miranda rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Ooh, this is going to be fun. I do love sneaking away and being secretive. I believe I was born for the adventurous life – on the edge. And I can’t wait to shake that apartment into the trash can. I wonder what all fossilized clutter will turn up? I’ve wanted to do this for simply ages. I can’t wait to get busy.”
“Knock yourself out,” Zeke muttered. “I just want to get it all over and done with, and get started sorting out lives out on this side. I wonder if I’ll be able to learn tracking here? I don’t suppose you need a hunting permit, do you, Dad? That’ll be awesome!”
Ian laughed. “I’d be in serious trouble if you did, Zeke. I’ve shot dozens of rabbits here – no place better. As for tracking, I’m sure the Wanderers won’t mind you and Miranda tagging along and learning useful skills like that. They know a lot more then they let on, you know. It nearly always pays to be friends with them.” He stood up, picking up his jacket and turning to go back to the cottage. “Come on, you two, we waste time lingering. Let’s go.”
Zeke and Miranda scrambled to their feet, but Miranda could not help hanging back for a moment, gazing at the sparkling water and remembering how much had changed since she first saw it. Even her father seemed different, happier, since coming here. Shade was right. It might have been the hardest week in her life, that first one after she came, but wasn’t life so wonderful now?
“You’ll be late,” a voice said behind her.
Miranda jumped, but she was not surprised to see Shade when she turned. She was getting used to his popping up unexpectedly. “Yeah, probably.” She started walking slowly toward the cottage. “You know how you once said that we couldn’t know the good of something until the whole story is finished? Well, I think I’m starting to understand it a little. I mean, I’m sure there is more that I don’t understand yet, but if my mother hadn’t died, well, than none of this would have happened like it did. I still miss her, of course, but it feels sort of different now. It’s like I lost a part of myself when she died, and I’m just now learning to do more than survive. I’m learning to live again.”
Shade nodded. “That’s what it’s like, losing people you love. You’re never quite the same again. But you do discover new things; make new friends; finding things to make you laugh. Life goes on, and eventually, you get back on the ride.”
“I thought I never could,” Miranda said in a low voice. “But I’m starting to think that life is always like that. I mean, about grief and joy; love, danger, courage; fear and freedom and failure, are all inseparably bound together in an exciting and wonderful way. I don’t think I’d want it any other way.”
Shade smiled, pausing at the door of the cottage. “The only life worth living is a life lived to the fullest. We both know that.”
She smiled back. “Yes. Thank you, Shade – for everything.” She could feel tears creeping up to her eyes and quickly turned.
Shade put out a hand to stop her. “Miranda, one thing. I told you when you first met me that Shade would be enough of a name for you. Would you like to know my true name now?”
Miranda threw her arms around him. “No, Shade. You were right. Shade is enough for me. Goodbye. See you in a month.” She hurried to the door, where she could see her father and brother waiting.
“It’s not like I won’t see you again,” he called after her. “After all, you will be back.”
“Exactly,” she said, turning in the doorway to look back. “This isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning of something wonderful and new.”

This is the end of Miranda's Giants. I wrote it mainly for experimental purposes, but wanted to share. Thanks for reading!

~ Grace Andrews