The Dreamslayer
I don't own any of the Redwall characters. They belong to Mr. Brian Jacques… unfortunately… however, I do own Tamer Lorika, Bollur Pinpaw, and all the other characters not previously mentioned in Redwall. And they're all mine. I'm evil, and I'm not sharing. Yes, it's long, and I'm sorry, but it's worth it!
"The dreamslayer comes on eve of deepest night
A raging wind snuffs out the light
A missing sword, a blackened sun
A faded cloth, and when all is done
A bloodstained hope, and one pays the highest cost
The dreamslayer comes, and all is lost"
All movement in the dibbun's dormitory abruptly halted as everybeast's eyes locked on to the young otter who had delivered the flat, chilling proclamation. Tamer Lorika stared back, her clouded eyes clearing for the first time in days.
"What?" she asked, the flat voice of before transforming into her normal, soft and shy one. She began to sway unsteadily back and forth. Bollur Pinpaw, a young hedgehog, put a strong paw around the strange otter's shoulders. Tamer leaned heavily against him, knowing from experience just where to put her weight so that she didn't get stuck by his spikes.
Daisy, the sweet young mousemaid who ran the infirmary, peered concernedly at Tamer, "What did you just say?"
Tamer gave her a blank look, "I didn't say anything"
Bollur turned to his friend. "Yep, you did, Tamer. You did it again. Predicted something."
Tamer looked at him in surprise. "Really? Oh, dear, that's not good, is it?"
"What's going on?" inquired Daisy again, following the conversation with a great amount of confusion. The dibbuns in the room just stared silently at Tamer. She was a naturally odd creature, with red fur the color of a squirrel's. She wore a tiny pair of rock crystal spectacles, and had a black stripe stretching from her forehead to the tip of her snout. But beside that, she was always slipping into oblivious flights of fantasy, ignoring the world around her. Waiting for Tamer to answer, Bollur realized that this was one of those times. Her eyes had clouded over again. Sighing, he turned to Daisy, who was still standing anxiously over them. He adopted his most innocent voice, "Don' worry, miz Daithy, it's just Tamer bein' Tamer."
Daisy smiled uncertainly, and went back to giving an unwilling Durp the Molebabe a bath. She new how Tamer could be, but this had seemed … different … somehow.
The rest of the dibbuns knew it was different, and wouldn't be put off so easily. The last time that Tamer had spoken like that, she had mentioned "shattered bones and red stones." The next day, Maira had fallen off the east wall steps, and broke a foot paw. Tamer had also predicted the arrival of Hollypaw, a young, pretty badgermaid. It had been many season since they had a badgermum, a full generation since Cregga Rose Eyes had died.
Tamer was never wrong.
But what did she mean?
Bollur knew that Tamer couldn't be sure herself. The otter never even remembered making the predictions.
Burby Whiffletail, a squirrel about the same age as Bollur, planted himself in front of the hedgehog and his otter-friend. "What was that all about, Tamer? What do you mean?
Upon hearing her name, Tamer looked up and tried to focus, "I-I don't know. You're Burby, right? What did I say?"
"You don't know me?" asked the squirrel incredulously, "But we grew up together."
Tamer tried to smile reassuringly, "I know who you are, but names...names aren't my strong suit..."
Burby just stared at her, "You are a misfit, Tamer, make no mistake, a real misfit."
"Stop it, Burby," Bollur warned, "You know how Tamer is. Leave her alone."
Burby glared at him, "I know my own business, Bollur, and I don't need to be psychic - or psycho," he added, looking pointedly at the ottermaid who struggled to follow the conversation, "to predict that something bad is going to happen, and she's going to be in the middle of it." Turning, he stalked away.
Bollur's spikes stood straight up in agitation. He was about to follow the squirrel when he felt a light hand on his shoulder.
"Stop, Bollur, it's not worth it," said Tamer softly. She had finally caught the thread of the argument, but was not unduly disturbed by it. "Besides," she continued, "It's Midwinter's Eve. We're having a feast, correct?"
Bollur was mildly astonished. Sometimes you had to remind Tamer what season it was, and other times she had the uncanny knack of knowing exactly what was going on, even though her last moment of lucidity hadn't been for days.
As if in answer to Tamer's remark, Daisy began to herd the newly washed dibbuns down the stairs.
"You're right," Bollur said. "Come on; it's time to join the feast."
An atmosphere of festivity infected everybeast who entered Great Hall that evening. Abbot Terren, a squirrel of middle seasons, had moved the celebration from Cavern Hole after the Rabble had dropped by for the feast. The wild tribe of hedgehogs was now being lead by Dara, Jurkin's granddaughter.
Old Sister Rosabel, the Abbey recorder of many, many seasons, sat on one side of the Abbot, and Hollypaw on the other. The badger had angled herself so that she could keep an eye on Nimbalo and Scoffscutt. Scoffscutt was the nephew of Boorab, who had passed on some seasons ago. Nimbalo had lately taken the young hare under his wing. The Harvest mouse was positively ancient, older than even Rosabel, but he refused to admit it, eating and fibbing with the best of them. Nimbalo was the last beast left who had been involved in the Fall of the Russet Apples, and the adventures of Deyna, the Abbey Warrior of the time. He was regaling the Dibbuns with various tales of how he had saved Deyna's life and defeated the Juskarath. The little ones listened in awe, as Bollur and Tamer stifled giggles. Bollur never knew how she did it, but Tamer could recite the true story, word for word, just as Rosabel had documented it so many seasons ago. The hedgehog didn't think Tamer had even read Rosabel's version…but then again, Tamer was just like that. Along with her strange quirks, Tamer had a gift – a gift of stories. They would never admit it, but all the abbey babes looked forward to the Midsummer and Midwinter feasts, when Tamer would weave splendid tales of magic and adventure. She would barely speak for the rest of the time, except for to Bollur, but these moments, she was in her element, and she really came alive.
Once, Bollur had asked her why she did that so much, lost herself in thought, she had smiled enigmatically, saying, "If I think hard enough, I can go anywhere,"
"You mean that it's like you were there?"
"No," she corrected, "I was there."
But then again, that was just Tamer.
At a nod from Terren, Hollypaw banged her tankard on the table. "Silence!" she ordered, her strong voice ringing through the hall. The comfortable chatter of abbey beasts immediately died down; even Nimbalo broke off his tale.
When everybeast was silent, the Abbot stood.
"Welcome, one and all to our annual Midwinter feast. Abbey beasts, I delight in having spent another wonderful year with you. And our esteemed guests, I feel privileged to share table with you." At this, many of the rough-raised Rabble blushed beneath heir spikes. "Now, let us give thanks for another amazing year. And don't worry, " he reassured, grinning, "I'll keep it short. I'm hungry!"
We thank you Mother Nature
For each gift one and all
The joy, peace, and prosperity
You've bestowed upon Redwall.
Please accept our gratitude
From each humble beast,
As the table is laid with a wondrous spread.
And now, friends….
Let us feast!"
As these magic words were spoken, Hyacinth, Daisy's twin sister and the Abbey cook, appeared, followed by the rest of the kitchen staff carting platters of food. There were vast pans of deeper'n'ever pie, leek and carrot popovers, and cheese and mushroom flans. Every tankard was topped with hot cider and warmed October Ale. The dibbuns eyed plates of gingerbread, apple turnovers swimming in meadowcream, and, of course, The Cake. It was the center piece of the feast, and enormous pastry dripping with strawberry meadowcream, custard sauce, sugared violets, and candied chestnuts. Hyacinth had even molded scale models of the Matthias and Methuselah bells out of marzipan and placed them atop the cake.
A huge fire burned in the grate, infusing the evening with a cheery glow. Everybeast was comfortable and warm, a sharp contrast to the shrieking wind just outside the stained glass windows. It was so cold that the river Moss had frozen over, and ice fell from the sky in vast sheets.
Inside the warm, cozy Abbey, however, Bollur and Tamer were having a fine time. A whole group of Dibbuns were watching the otter as she loaded hotroot into her Shrimp an' Hotroot Soup. There were a full fifty chestnuts riding against them that Tamer couldn't eat as much hotroot as Skipper himself. Skipper was unaware of the contest, and sat obliviously sipping soup that would have made a mole's digging claws fall off.
Tamer watched carefully as the older otter scooped pawful after pawful of the stinging spice into his soup, and began eating. Tamer added one more scoop into her own enormous pile of hotroot, and cast her eyes about the assembled dibbuns, finally resting on the chestnuts that were on the line. She turned to Bollur, who winked at her. She grinned, and picked up her spoon. Under the astonished gazes of her fellow dibbuns, Tamer demolished the entire concoction, even licking the bowl.
Smiling broadly, Bollur gathered in the winnings, which he split evenly with his otterfriend.
The defeated dibbuns went disgustedly back to their meals, but as the might wore on and Nimbalo and Scoffscutt were the only ones left eating steadily, their eyes drifted back to Tamer. They anxiously waited as she finished eating, knowing that when she was done, she would finally begin her story. Even Bollur found himself breathless in anticipation. Tamer's stories were something no beast liked to miss.
But Tamer knew that they were waiting. So, slowly and leisurely, she finished off all twenty-five of her chestnuts. She began to sit back contentedly, then stopped, and leaned forward again. She sluggishly reached for her tankard and took a long draft of Strawberry Fizz. Finally, she sat back again, and opened her small mouth to speak to the waiting group…
A sudden gust of wind ripped through the Great Hall and blew out the enormous fire. The hall was plunged into a chilling darkness.
Before anybeast could panic, or even wonder what was happening, an eerie green light appeared, right in front of Abbot Terren's chair. The glow grew, intensifying until it solidified into an all-too-familiar shape.
A rat.
And enormous green rat, with a ragged, torn cloak, and fiery, blood-red eyes floated just inches above the table. It sneered, and glared around at the assembled abbeybeasts.
"A…pleasant good evening to you all," the rat hissed, his voice rasping elegantly, like oiled mail on stone.
"Who are ye and what do ye want?" growled Skipper, rising from his seat.
"What do I want?" asked the rat specter with an air of injured dignity, "Why, nothing at all! I came here, out of the goodness of my black heart, to warn you and your abbey of your impending doom. You shall all die as easily as…this badger here!"
At the rat's words, Hollypaw slumped limply forward in her chair. Above the cries of worried beasts and the roared threats form Skipper and the Rabble, the rat shouted, "I am Darnat Bloodpaw, Dreamslayer! I have killed more beasts than moments your pathetic Martin has ever lived, and I plan to add him to my list!"
At the words "Darnat Bloodpaw," Tamer's eyes opened wide. This wasn't supposed to be happening…
"Your abbey will crumble into dust!" the ghost rat cried over the pandemonium below him, "And Martin will crumble with it. Already he is weakening… I will prevail!"
"The sword!" Tamer cried, suddenly tearing out of the Hall, "The sword is gone!"
Bollur and many of the dibbuns, tailed by almost half of the elders, hurried to follow Tamer's path. Some hidden part of them knew that the strange ottermaid was telling the truth. But the sword? Missing? It couldn't be! And how could the rat ever hope to defeat Martin?
But as the panicked group emerged in Cavern Hole, they realized the truth. The sword hooks above Martin's tapestry were empty.
"What have you done with the sword, rat?" roared Skipper into the air, on the chance that the rat could hear him. Suddenly the ghost of Darnat Bloodpaw stood before him.
"I have done nothing to the sword." Darnat oozed coolly. "Martin himself has taken it from you."
"Why would 'e do that?" Skipper challenged.
"Because," replied Darnat, a bloody smile, tinged with the light of his crimson eyes, forming on his face, "He needs it far more than you do."
And then he was gone.
Above the tangle of confused and frightened creatures rose a clear, flat voice. "The Dreamslayer comes…" cried Tamer.
She collapsed into Bollur's strong paws.
"Tayma'th prophethy!" squeaked a little church mouse named Maira, "Ith comin' twue!"
Terrified Dibbuns began to whisper to each other, How did she know? How did she know?
Burby elbowed his way through the gathering crowd. "I told you!" he growled at Bollur, who stood supporting his friend's limp form, "This is all Tamer's fault! It was all because of her!"
How did she know?
Ignoring the elder's panic, a group of Dibbuns had gathered around Bollur. Suspicion and accusation tinged their voices, Tamer's fault...
Bollur's spikes stiffened, "Stop! It's not her fault. I don't know how she knew, but Tamer won't even pick flowers for fear of hurting them!"
A voice broke through the turmoil.
"She's breathing!"
Daisy, who had stayed behind with Hyacinth and Terren to tend to Hollypaw, burst into Cavern Hole, breaking the tension, "She's alive, thank the seasons! The rat only knocked her out... but I can't get her to wake up..."
As worried elders and dibbun's alike congregated to ask about Hollypaw and seek comfort from each other, Bollur slipped away, awkwardly trying to bring Tamer upstairs. Only Maira, the little church mouse, saw them go.
"Bollur, you need hewp?" she asked, scampering after him. Despite her innocent appearance, Maira had a good head on her shoulders. She knew Tamer; she was a kind otter. Grabbing the unconscious otter's footpaws, the mouse helped Bollur pull her up the stairs, "Where are we takin' 'er? The Infirm'ry?"
Bollur shook his spiky head, "Nah, nobeast will be in there now, but it'll be all too easy for somebeast to walk in. Maira, the rest of the Dibbuns think that Tamer's behind this… creatures are afraid, and Martin's sword is gone. We don't even have and Abbey Warrior! Fear…causes normally sane creatures to do strange things."
Maira glanced sideways at Bollur, but he had lapsed into one of Tamer's characteristic silences. Maira knew why, though. When Bollur had been brought to Redwall by Skipper and the ottercrew, two seasons ago, stories had gotten around. Everybeast knew that the hedgehog had been rescued after a vermin raid – and he had been the only survivor.
"Tho, where are we takin' her?" repeated Maira.
"Huh? Oh, the only place I can. Our Corner."
"What?" inquired the church mouse. They had now reached the top of the steps, and Bollur was beginning to kick at the sandstone wall behind a large tapestry. A hollow "thunk" greeted her words.
Gently setting his friend down on the stone floor, Bollur reached behind the tapestry and pawed out one of the enormous bricks that made up the wall, wriggling it out. Behind it lay a tunnel, barely wide enough to squeeze through. He turned to Maira. "It's through here. I don't know how is got here. Redwall is old and riddled with passages…but it's safe. We wouldn't even know that it was here if not for Tamer's clumsiness. She was running and thinking at the same time – not a great idea. She ran right into the wall and we heard the hollow sound… well, are ye coming?"
Maira eyed the cramped tunnel dubiously. She was small enough to wriggle through, but only just.
"Um…not me… I'm not good with thmall thpaces. I'd better go."
Bollur smiled at her, "Thanks for helping Maira." And with that, he disappeared down the tunnel, taking the unconscious Tamer with him. The cloth flopped back into place, leaving only the displaced brick to mark their prescence.
After a few moments of awkward dragging the tunnel widened out into a small chamber. The ceiling was just high enough for Bollur to stand up, and twice as long. It was lit only by a pinprick of light from down the tunnel, but the darkness was soft and welcome, a kind of gray light that allowed you to see shadows of the world instead of nothing at all. Bollur laid his otterfriend down and sat beside her. His paws nervously searched for his lucky quill. It was his very first quill, which, when he had shed it, he hung around his neck on a red ribbon. He had never taken it off, and it always brought him comfort.
He needed comfort now. What in Mossflower was going on? Who was this "dreamslayer"? Could he really kill Martin? Where had the sword gone? What did Tamer have to do with all this?
And what was going to happen now?
Time had no hold in the Corner. Bollur sat for hours – or maybe just moments – alone with his own thoughts. Finally, Tamer began to stir. Slowly, she opened her chestnut colored eyes and sat up, adjusting her spectacles.
"Bollur, where am I? What happened? Martin's sword went missing and then…nothing."
The hedgehog tucked his lucky quill back into his tunic, and smiled at his friend. "You're alright! I was worried. You said something about the dreamslayer…and then passed out,"
Tamer closed her eyes and sank back against the wall, "Martin was saying something to me, but I couldn't hear it...I was hoping I was imagining things again...this isn't supposed to be happening, he's just a story! Bollur, you'd better tell me what I said before the feast."
"Umm, wait a moment, let me remember it...
The Dreamslayer comes, on eve of deepest night
A raging wind snuffs out the light
A missing sword, a darkened sun
A faded cloth, and when all is done
A bloodstained hope, and one pays the highest cost
The Dreamslayer comes, and all is lost…
Wait. You said that Darnat - this 'dreamslayer', is just a story?"
Tamer shook her head, not opening her eyes. "The story I was going to tell you tonight was about a rat named Darnat, and Martin's sword went missing. That was all I knew, I planned to make it up as I went."
"Tamer, is that what happened those other times? Maira's broken paw, and Hollypaw's arrival? You were going to tell stories about them?"
Tamer nodded, "There is no reason to it. I just go to sleep, and when I wake up, the ideas are there…do you think Martin has anything to do with it?"
Bollur shook his spiked head, "I don't know…"
He just sat there, staring at his friend. They didn't need to speak; each knew what the other was thinking. Bollur was afraid, unsure of what was going to happen. But he trusted Tamer completely.
Finally, the ottermaid opened her eyes and spoke, "My prediction…we'd better try to find out what it means."
Bollur thought a moment, "I think I understand the first part, at least, though it's no use now. It's already happened."
Tamer gave him a characteristic blank look. "What?"
"The 'dreamslayer' has already come, on the longest night of the year – Midwinter. And before him was that strange gust of wind that doused our fire. 'A raging wind snuffs out the light'. And of course, the missing sword."
"Good thinking, Bollur. But what about the rest of it?"
The hedgehog sighed, "I really don't know…Tamer, why is he called the 'dreamslayer'?"
Tamer's eyes glazed over in thought, "I'm not sure myself…I need to remember the story…"
Before Bollur cold say a word, Tamer's half-closed eyes snapped open. "Oh no, oh no, oh no! We need to get out of here, right away!"
"Tamer, wha…?"
But she was already gone, skittering down the tunnel. Bollur crawled after her, wiggling down the passageway as fast as he could. He emerged just in time to see Tamer dashing full-tilt down the hall toward the dormitories.
Sister Daisy appeared around corner and snatched at Tamer's tunic collar. "Tamer! There you are! Are you all right? Somebeast said that you passed out."
"The Dibbuns…" Tamer gasped breathlessly, "Where are… they?"
Daisy looked confused. "I had Graciella Whiffletail, Burby's grandmother, put them to sleep awhile ago while the elders sort all this out. Poor dear, she needs a nap herself. And now, my dear, that is where you must go, too. To sleep. Why are you so out of breath? What is going on?"
"No!" shouted Tamer, "Please, no!" With a wild twist, Tamer wrenched herself out of Daisy's grip, and continued her flight through the hall, yelling as she went. "Wake up! Wake up!"
Bollur sprinted after the otter, "Tamer, wait! What's happening?"
Daisy was left in the empty hallway, even more befuddled than before.
Durp the Molebabe was too wound up to even think about sleeping. Fear and apprehension was rank in the Dibbuns dormitory. Nobeast had any idea what was going on.
Quietly, Durp slid out from under his blankets and tiptoed over to his mousefriend, Drei, being careful not to wake Mum Graciella, who was asleep in a chair.
"Psst! Bourr, Droi, are yew awoike?"
Drei didn't move. Durp poked him gently with one blunt digging claw, "Cumm on, Droi, woike 'ee oop."
Still, the mousebabe slept.
Faintly, Durp's ears began to pick up a commotion from outside. He heard the slap of paws on stone, and a voice yelling. Suddenly, Tamer burst into the dormitory. "Everybeast, wake up, it's not safe! Wake up!"
Immediately, a score of Dibbuns rolled out of bed, thankful for any excuse to stay awake. Most had been lying in bed, their eyes open, too anxious to sleep.
Drei, however, didn't stir, and neither did Mum Graciella.
Tamer's eyes rested on the two sleeping beasts. She moaned and sank to her knees on the floor. "I'm too late, aren't I?" she asked, burying her face in her paws.
Bollur skidded in behind the ottermaid. "Tamer, please," he said, kneeling beside her, "what's wrong?"
"They've fallen asleep," she whispered, her voice muffled by her paws.
"So what?" asked Burby, his voice loud and unmerciful, "We'll just make 'em up!" He strode over to his grandmother and shook her shoulder. The old, graying squirrel's eyes stayed closed. "Grandma?" Burby asked, beginning to get worried, "Grandma?"
Tamer slowly looked up, her eyes turning cold, hard, and most definitely sane. "That's why Darnat is called the 'dreamslayer'. Martin can get into you dreams; he can, too. Only Darnat's you never wake from…"
Burby spun around to face her, "You mean… she's…"
"I'm sorry Burby, Durp." The Molebabe stared at the bundle of blankets where his friend lay, shocked and scared.
Burby dropped into a fighting stance, "You will be sorry. This is your fault, otter. You've killed my grandmother."
Bollur stepped in front of he enraged squirrel. "Stop it Burby! You'll not touch her!" he growled. "I know you are sad, but this isn't Tamer's fault! How could she do this? She's been out cold. We all loved Graciella, but if you're going to be angry at someone, be angry at Darnat. This is his fault, not Tamer's!"
The rest of the Dibbuns stood in awe, watching the proceedings with wide eyes. Were they going to fight? You were only supposed to use your combat skills against invaders – or the spooks in the closet.
Burby was in no condition to remember that now, however. His eyes blazed with hatred and grief. But there was no way that Bollur would let the squirrel lay a paw on his friend.
Burby stared straight at Tamer. His body tensed to strike, and he lunged at the ottermaid's neck.
"What in season's name is going on?" Daisy had fetched Abbot Terren, who loomed in the doorway. All the Dibbuns whirled guiltily about to face the abbot. All the Dibbuns, that is, except for Tamer, Bollur, and Burby. Tamer still sat in front of the doorway, lost in limbo between grief and thought. Bollur had his eyes locked on Burby, who was flying through the air, claws outstretched.
Bollur's spikes stood straight up. His paw struck out and connected with Burby's stomach. The squirrel fell to the ground, gasping for air.
Before Burby could rise to attack again, Terren waded into the fray. He grabbed the back of Burby's tunic in one strong paw, and Bollur's in the other.
"What is the matter with you?" demanded the abbot. "You two are almost grown. You know better than to fight each other, especially in times like these. We all need to stick together. Now what do you have to say for yourselves?"
Burby glared daggers at the hedgehog, who had adopted his otterfriend's style and stared dispassionately at nothing in particular.
Burby knew that the abbot sympathized with the treacherous otter. He wouldn't believe the truth… Tamer had killed his grandmother and Drei. He couldn't convince anyone, not yet. But he could get rid of her spiky bodyguard.
"Bollur…Bollur attacked me!" he moaned pitifully, while still managing to cast a withering glance over the assembled Dibbuns, daring them to argue.
Terren turned to Bollur, "Is this true?" he asked. Under any other circumstances, Terren would not be so quick to judge, but the harrowing events of the night had already worn everybeast's nerves thin.
"What?" cried Bollur, "He attacked me! I was only defending Tamer. He was trying to kill her!"
Burby couldn't bear it any longer. "Drei and my grandmother are dead, and that otter did it!"
Finally Abbot Terren saw the two beasts that had fallen asleep only moments before, never to wake.
"Graciella…" he whispered, dropping Burby and Bollur's tunic collars, "Drei… oh…" Slowly, the middle-aged squirrel turned to look at Tamer, who sat curled in a ball of grief.
Bollur stepped in front of the Abbot. He was only a third size of the squirrel, and knew this hulking creature could easily turn from a benevolent, kind leader into a terrified, panicked beast that shunned reason. He had seen it before, before Redwall…
"Stop, Father!" he said with as much bravery as he could muster, "Tamer didn't do it! She never killed anybeast. Please, don't punish her!"
Terren smiled then, a slow, sad smile. Even during tumultuous times like these, somebeasts had the courage to stick up for their friends.
"No, your friend's not in trouble, I promise. But, Burby, I want you to stay right here, with me. I'm going to sort this out once and for all."
As Burby guiltily slunk over to the abbot, Daisy herded the rest of the Dibbuns out of the way. She gave a backwards look over her shoulder, before going to comfort the sobbing Durp.
The Terren knelt beside Tamer, and Bollur stood protectively behind her. "Tamer," he asked gently, "Tamer I need to speak to you. Do you know what is going on?"
Sluggishly, the otter looked up, her misted eyes clearing. "No, Father. I don't know. Darnat is just supposed to be a story…a story that I made up. All I know is that he can kill you in your sleep and that he has the power to destroy Martin… and is doing so. Abbot Terren, if Martin is so outclassed that he must take up the sword that he laid down so many seasons ago, then he can't hold out much longer. I've been told that I predicted this, and I think Martin spoke to me, even, but I don't remember anything… that's all I know."
Terren could see fear, trust, and, above all, honesty, in Tamer's cloud-rimmed eyes. He nodded. "Thank you. That's all I needed to know. This…this is all so strange. There is so much I don't understand. Alright, you may go." Burby, who had been standing nervously behind the older squirrel, was about to make a dash for the door, when Terren turned to face him. "No, not you, young Whiffletail. I still have things to say to you. I am sorry for your grandmother's death, but there is no cause to be blaming your fellow abbeybabes…"
Burby's response was lost as the Abbot grabbed him by one ear and steered him out of the Dormitory door.
Bollur helped his friend up. Tamer looked at him, "Thank you so much Bollur…I-I… this is all…just, thanks."
The hedgehog smiled a bit, "What of it? We're friends… although, I, for one, am a hungry friend. Would you like to see if Hyacinth has anything to donate?"
Tamer's mouth curved upward, forming a very small, but tangible smile, "You're a stomach on legs, Bollur, but for once, I agree." She cast one last glance at Drei and Graciella, and shivered, "Let's go."
The Abbey kitchens already had its share of loiterers when the two youngbeasts arrived. Nimbalo and Scoffscutt were managing to complain, eat, and flirt shamelessly with Hyacinth, all at the same time. Rosabel sat in her rocking chair in one warm corner, watching the proceedings with amusement.
"That bally…mmfff…rotter of a rat!" Scoffscutt was exclaiming through a mouthful of apple turnover. The …mmf, scmmmff…the nerve of that…scmf… creature!" He swallowed. "Ah, top-hole scoff, Hyacinth. It makes sense that such delicious food should be made by such a striking beast."
"Away with ye, ye rotten cad!" Hyacinth exclaimed, blushing. She had a soft lilt that distinguished her from her otherwise identical sister. In spite of her words, she served both Nimbalo and Scoffscutt with more food. "It's a fair shame," she said, sighing, "Ould Terren told me what 'appened…I loved Graciella, and Drei was joost about Daisy's fav'rite liddle 'un."
"That lily-livered, pasty faced, good for nothing toad!" Nimbalo muttered bitterly into a mug of hot cider, "We ought to run him out, good'n proper!"
"Och, weel now," replied Hyacinth, "If that Darnat's to be believed, there's really nothin' we can do but trust Martin'll come through."
Old Rosabel, who had been placidly watching the conversation as one would watch a ping-pong match, finally noticed the two dibbuns that stood near a wall, eavesdropping. Rosabel had never really interacted with Tamer much, but had often listened in on her stories, and was shocked. The otter could recite, word for word, old tales and histories of Redwall that even Rosabel, as a recorder, hadn't dusted off for seasons upon seasons.
"Bollur, Tamer, what are you up to?" she asked. Bollur unconsciously adopted his "Dibbun Voice", the innocent lisp that most Dibbuns took on while speaking to elders if it wasn't natural already.
"No fink, marm, we're just hungry."
The old recorder smiled. "Coming in for a midnight snack, eh? You can join these two rascals," she said, gesturing at the irrepressible Nimbalo and Scoffscutt.
Hyacinth looked over her shoulder as she stuck a batch of oat scones into the oven. "What time is it, anyways, Rosabel m'dear?" The old squirrel constantly kept an hourglass beside her armchair for telling time at night. There was no particular reason for it, but Rosabel enjoyed being on top of things. Now, she picked it up and peered at it short-sightedly.
"No, no, this can't be right…" she muttered. "Tamer, may I borrow your spectacles, please?" Tamer surrendered them, and Rosabel squinted yet again at her hourglass. "Hyacinth, it's still dark out, right?"
The pretty mousemaid glanced out the kitchen window. "See for yourself, marm, dark as blackberry wine."
Rosabel tapped the hourglass with her paw, "This oddment says that it's noon. That can't be right…" Rosabel said uneasily. It had never, ever been wrong before. She handed the spectacles back to Tamer
Tamer turned slowly to face Bollur, the same thought on both Dibbun's minds.
"A blackened sun," she whispered.
"What?" inquired Scoffscutt, "I say, isn't that a part of your jolly ole' prophecy m'gel?"
The ottermaid ignored him and dashed out the kitchen door, with Bollur at her heels. She skidded to a halt in the middle of the lawn and looked up at the sky.
A huge, black cloud stretched as far as the eye could see. Nothing, not moon, nor stars, nor sun were visible. A heavy darkness weighed upon the world like a stone.
Tamer whirled around, "Oh, Bollur, it's coming true, it's really coming true! What are we going to do?"
His eyes searching the endless blackness, it finally hit Bollur that they were up against power the likes of which Redwall had never seen. "The poem…" he mused. "The prophecy. If we can decipher it, maybe there is something we can do to stop it. The next line…the faded cloth…"
"But why would cloth matter?" inquired Tamer. "I mean, we have plenty of it: rugs, cloaks, habits, tapestries, quilts – tapestries," she breathed.
"Oh, no," said Bollur, "oh, no, oh, no, oh, no…"
"I say, what in Mossflower is makin' you skid off like that, wot? You'll give yourselves tummy aches!" Scoffscutt had followed them from the kitchen, with Hyacinth and the feisty, but out of shape Nimbalo puffing behind him.
"So, it really is noon?" asked Hyacinth, "Then that 'orrible rat did this? Tamer, Bollur, ye look like ye've seen 'em agin. What's wrong?"
"The next part of the prophecy," said Bollur, not bothering with his lisp. "The faded cloth. Could it be…"
"The tapestry," said Tamer. "It has to be."
"Wait, wot?" wheezed Nimbalo, "Yer not serious. Ye're telling fibs. What could 'ee do to it?"
"Och, weel, I fer one don' want tae find out," announced Hyacinth. "We'll guard the tapestry ourselves, if need be! Scoffscutt, ye'd best tell Terren, though seasons know he's got enough on 'is mind. Nimbalo, and ye two, coom with me. If that rat dares to show 'is ugly face, we'll be ready for 'im."
Tamer turned to her hedgehog friend. "Bollur, this isn't going to work. There's no way to stop him."
"But what can we do?" whispered Bollur, "At least the elders aren't panicking. They're trying to help. We have to be useful."
The Dibbuns trailed Hyacinth as she marched purposefully back into the fire-lit kitchens, through the darkened depths of the Great Hall, down the steps leading to Cavern Hole…and stopped dead in her tracks.
"Seasons help us…"
The intricately embroidered background of the tapestry had faded to shades of muted gray. The cloth itself had become a dirty off-white. Only Martin's figure remained untouched. Everything else, from the tassels to the twisting roses curling around the top, had faded as if bleached by the sun. But that was not the end of the damage. Jagged gashes like claw marks rent the tapestry in so many places that it was impossible to count.
It was ruined.
Little Nimbalo began to work himself up into quite a state, "Sound the alarm! Close the gates! Post a guard! Destroy this dreamslayer once and for all!"
Leaving Hyacinth to calm the enraged old harvestmouse, Tamer drew
Bollur into a darkened corner, "I told you this wouldn't work… oh, he's so powerful! I need to think; maybe I can remember the end of the story, how to defeat the Dreamslayer." Tamer sat against the smooth redstone walls and closed her eyes.
"Be careful, Tamer," cautioned Bollur, "Don't fall asleep."
She smiled, "I won't."
Finding himself alone, Bollur wearily sat down and began to nervously paw at his lucky quill.
"Bollur, do you always wear that?"
Bollur practically jumped out of his spikes as Tamer suddenly addressed him, her eyes still closed.
"Ack, Tamer, you startled me!"
"Do you?" she persisted. "Don't you ever take it off?"
"Never," he said, touching it gently. "It reminds me of who I am…I'd feel empty without it."
The otter smiled, "I was just wondering. I think that's great." She went back to her musings.
Bollur leaned gently back against the wall, giving over to his own thoughts. His breathing slowed, and the exhaustion of the day's events weighed heavily on his mind. He closed his eyes… and slept.
"Tamer! Tamer! Please wake up! Oh, lithen to me, please! Tamer!"
The ottermaid awoke to Maira tugging furiously at her paw. "Tank the seathons!" she cried, "Oh, Tamer, I thought that you'd fawen asleep wike Drei an' Graciella an' B-" she stopped and bit her lip.
Tamer opened her eyes blearily. "Yes, I'm all right, Maira – wait a moment. Another beast fell asleep? You said 'B'… don't tell me it was Burby."
Maira shook her head tearfully.
"Then who was it? You must tell me, Maira."
The church mouse just pointed a shaking paw at the creature beside Tamer.
"Bollur," she breathed.
He looked so peaceful there, like she could just touch his shoulder and he'd wake up. But as she dropped to her knees at his side, she knew that would never happen, ever again. His breathing had stopped, and as she grasped his paw, it felt cold as the ice that rimed the world outside.
Maira saw the look of desolation and grief in Tamer's eyes, and turned away. "I-I'll go t-tell Daithy…" she stuttered, and dashed away from the heartbreaking scene.
Tamer stared at her friend's face, almost uncomprehending. This wasn't happening… everything was spiraling out of control. "Oh, Bollur," she gasped, "How could you leave me alone here?" A single tear rolled down her cheek and dropped onto Bollur's. Then she rose. She had to get out of here; away from it all…she whirled around to face the stairwell when something caught her eye. Martin's tapestry. There was a splotch of bright crimson on Martin's forehead that had never been there before. It suddenly hit Tamer exactly what it was.
A trickle of blood.
She gently wiped it away, whipped around, and fled up the stairs.
A bloodstained hope… Martin was their hope, but now, she knew that he was slowly succumbing to the Dreamslayer.
She had reached the top of the stairwell, now, and was feeling around for the loose bricks of red sandstone. She found them, wriggled them out, and crawled into the tunnel.
And one pays the highest cost… That "one" was three: Drei, Graciella, and Bollur.
Tamer's paws gave way and she collapsed on the dusty floor of the tunnel, sobbing.
"Bollur, why did you fall asleep? I can't do this without you!"
Without you…
Without you…
Her words echoed back at her through the lonely tunnel.
She just lay there, crying, her tears soaking into the dust beneath her. Closing her eyes, Tamer lost herself in thought, went deeper than she had ever dared to go before.
She thought so hard that is wasn't as if she was there. She was there.
The Dark Forest.
The realm of the Dreamslayer
The realm of the dead.
As Tamer opened her eyes, she was faced by a strange landscape, the likes of which she had never even imagined. The dusky sky above her cast a perpetual twilight on the world. The ground under her paws was as dusty and colorless as ash. Dry, bone-white aspens were covered in inky leaves, but despite all the trees, there was no waste or leaf loam on the ground, just the same ashy dust.
For a moment, Tamer panicked. What was she doing here? What if she couldn't get back?
She took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself. Then, she listened as hard as she could, searching… there! There it was! The sounds of battle.
She raced through the colorless trees toward the clash and clang of sword against sword.
Suddenly, the trees gave way and Tamer found herself on a barren hill overlooking the field of battle.
A confused mass of creatures roiled on the field. Vermin of all sorts, cowled in black, harried the valiant warriors from the days of old. Rats grappled with moles, stoats with squirrels. Those creatures that died with weapons in their paws wielded them. The others made due with staves of the ivory wood that grew so thickly.
The ghosts of the Dark Forest her not quite as bleached as the rest of their landscape, but simply blurred images of their former selves. They were solid, Tamer knew, as she heard the clang of weapons and saw creatures from both sides fall to the ground. As they died for the second time, their bodies were drained of color, and they disintegrated into the dusty earth.
Tamer could pick out many ancient warriors of Redwall. Mariel and Dandin stood side by side, fending off the black-cloaked vermin. She could see Deyna, his amber-hilted dagger flashing, his father, Rillflag, beside him; Mother Mara, Lord Urthstripe, and Pikkle; Russa Nodrey, fighting alongside Tammo, Pasque, and Lord Russano. Even Grath Longfletch had found the lost members of Holt Lutra.
But Tamer couldn't see Bollur. She had known that she wouldn't, but it still hurt her that among so many reunions, they would always be apart. If she knew her friend, he would be dispersed among the adults, fighting fiercely. And he owned no weapons...
She shook her head, trying to dispel his fate from her mind. She had come here for one reason and one reason only: to help Martin.
Where was he?
As she searched, her eyes drifted toward one spot in the middle of the battlefield. A barren ring almost twenty paw-lengths thick surrounded two creatures who dueled fiercely. Martin and Darnat.
The crimson-eyed rat wielded a huge, double-edged longsword, the exact opposite of Martin's. It had a red leather hilt and a jet stone at its pummel.
As the two beasts battled, Tamer began to notice with growing horror what was happening to Martin. As the wound on his forehead bled, he was slowly graying, bleaching. Just like the tapestry. Just like the creatures that fell around him.
Martin was dying.
Why does nobeast help him? thought Tamer, confused and scared. She scanned the battle, and saw to her dismay that somebeasts were trying to help him - and were having a horrible time at it.
Flanked by Dinny, Grumm, Pallum, Bella, Felldoh, Rowanoak, Ballaw, Lady Amber, Mask, Columbine, and even Brome, were two beasts who struggled to Marin's aid: Gonff the Mousetheif, and Laterose of Noonvale. Tamer watched as they waded a few pawlengths into the barren circle, and were forced back by some strange, invisible power. But neither beast was daunted, and flung themselves at the barrier with no lack of vigor.
Tamer could see how desperate both beasts were, and her heart went out to them. Gonff was Martin's best friend in the entire world, and Rose… she knew neither would survive if separated again.
The red otter was galvanized into action. Whirling, she broke a small branch off a pale aspen. She wouldn't go unarmed.
You could die… this could all be futile, some rational part of her cautioned
But if I don't go, then I'll die anyway. None of us can go on without Martin.
And with that, Tamer skittered down the bluff and joined the battle.
The tide of battle washed up around the foot of the hill. As Tamer reached it, she tried to keep to the edges, but it was no use. It sucked her in, like a predator capturing prey.
A black-cowled creature lunged at her, its thick, whip-like tail lashing out at her face. The cowl flew off in the intensity of the attack, and Tamer saw something that almost made her drop her flimsy staff.
It was none other than Cluny the Scourge.
"Eep!" she squeaked, dodging out of the way and taking off full-tilt across the battlefield. She ducked and weaved past scores of fighting beasts, dodging blows and receiving many admiring glances from various hares, always keeping her eyes on Martin and Darnat.
She was so focused on the two that she didn't notice a wildcat stick the end of his three pronged spear in front of her. She tripped, rolled into a somersault, and landed flat on her back on the ashy ground. Her staff flew out of her paws and landed several paces away.
Tamer's breath whooshed out of her, and she gasped for air. Suddenly, the wildcat stood over her with a murderous gleam in his eyes. Ungatt Trun.
"Well, what do we have here?" he hissed, "It's a pup pretending to be a big warrior. Let me tell you something, little one. Not all warriors survive to become heroes. Some end up like you are going to."
Tamer scrambled up to a kneeling position so she could face the warlord. There was no chance of escape, no way to reach her staff. There was nothing she could do. She had failed to save Martin. She closed her eyes and waited for death.
An inky shadow fell across her face, obscuring the twilight that blanketed the field.
That was him, she thought. He's going to strike…
"If you touch her you die," a voice growled.
"Oh, really, and who's going to stop me, you little gnat?" Ungatt snarled back.
"Finnbarr?" the voice called. A new roar joined the fray.
"GAWTRIBE, ATTACK!"
Over the cries of "Yay, game!" and the death throes of the wildcat, Tamer heard the voice, the one that had saved her, call to her name.
"Tamer! Tamer, what are you doing here? Don't tell me…you're not… you didn't fall asleep?"
Somebeast clasped her paw. Only then did she open her eyes.
Standing in front of her…was Bollur.
Ignoring the battle about her, she threw herself at her friend, crying, "Bollur, why did you fall asleep? We need you!"
The hedgehog smiled sadly, hugging Tamer, "I'm sorry, I really, truly am."
Suddenly, a wild looking sea otter with massive tattoos and two enormous swords appeared behind Bollur.
"Bollur, look out!" Tamer cried, rising to her paws in preparation to defend her friend from the frenzied-looking otter. Bollur laid a restraining paw on her shoulder. "It's all right, Tamer, this is my friend. Remember Finnbarr, who died fighting to free King Gael in Southsward? This is him. He commands the Gawtribe now, though how, I'll never know. He even gave me his dagger."
The older otter smiled, exposing two rows of sharp, even teeth, "Belay, matey, its good ter see somebeast getting some use out o' it. 'Twas a far too small and fiddly piece fer me."
Tamer just stood in awe of the brawny otter. He wasn't wearing his mussel shell eye patch; both eyes shone brightly with bloodlust. Tamer had told stories about him, and he was among her very favorite heroes.
"Aw, stop yer staring, liddle maid," the big otter said gruffly, uncomfortable with the attention that he was being given. "I'm not a grand beast, at least not the likes of some. Come on, there are vermin to bash."
Tamer turned back to Bollur. "Listen; do you remember what I said about thinking so hard that I could actually be places? I did that, Bollur, I had to. There's blood on the tapestry, and you can see from here that Martin is dying. I came here because I have to help him."
Bollur looked sadly at her, "We've tried, Tamer, we all have, but it's no use. That area around Martin, it's bare for a reason. As soon as you get too far into it, an aura of, well…" he searched for the right word, "evil, pushes you back. It's overpowering, penetrating."
Tamer set her jaw stubbornly, "I don't care. I have to try! I'm not going to stand by and let him be killed."
Bollur cast a sideways glance at her. Determination sparked in her eyes. She would succeed, or die trying. And he would be beside her, every step of the way.
With the querulous Gawtribe acting as sort of an honor guard, the group battled their way to the center of the field. Tamer gripped her staff tightly, lashing out at the vermin who got too close. Bollur, too, used his dagger skillfully, although where he had learned it was beyond her. She noticed that he struck out with only the hilt, wincing as he knocked vermin senseless, reluctant to injure anybeast. Finnbarr, however, had no such qualms, laying about with his twin swords and wreaking havoc. The Gawtribe dashed happily about, wielding small daggers and firing arrows. They seemed to think it was all a game, even as their comrades were cut down.
As they neared the center of the battle, Finnbarr turned to the squirrels, "Alright, Gawtribe, half-circle! Disperse among the rest of the defenders." As the ragtag bunch raced to follow orders, Finnbarr, Bollur, and Tamer found themselves in a tiny pocket of safety as defenders from all eras ringed the rescue attempt.
"I want to test the barrier," said Tamer, and she waded a few steps in.
It hit her like a tidal wave, swirling inside her head like a living beast. It infected her mind, blackening and dulling it. It was an overpowering feel of wrongness, a black pit of nightmares and horror and pain and loneliness, flooding her mind with a permanent evilness that seemed as if it would always be there, had always been there. She reeled backwards with the sheer malice of it, and stared, panting with exertion, at the invisible barrier. She sat down heavily on the ground, just watching. She could see Laterose and Gonff there, a few paces in, battling furiously against the tide of pain crashing about them. Even they, with equal parts bloodwrath and desperation shining in their eyes, were unable to breach it.
Bollur knelt beside his friend, "Tamer, can you…are you all…are you going to go in there?"
She looked up at him. "I am… but I don't know how…leave me alone, please, I've got to think."
Bollur did so, but reluctantly, "That look on your face as you walked in there…are you sure that you are all right, Tamer? It scared me."
She shook her head, "I'm fine, really."
Then, she retreated into her own mind, into a dreamlike state between sleep and wakefulness. The battle, the barrier, Martin, it all faded away as she cudgeled her brain for a solution. No revelation appeared, though, no matter how hard she thought. All that came up was doubts, worries, and dangers. If, somehow, she was able to make it far enough into the barren patch to make any sort of difference in the least, and she let her concentration slip, then all would be lost. You could lose your mind, lose your very self among thoughts like these.
But there was no way in either the Dark Forest of Mossflower that she would be able to get that far without letting the continuous throb of the outside world in.
She sat in her own though bubble, contemplating, until she knew she'd have to leave. Bollur will get worried. He knows there's no way to reach me when I'm here. I just wish that, somehow, I didn't have to disappoint them…
Something nameless tugged at the back of her mind. She felt that, for just a moment, she'd had the answer. She stopped, concentrating. Her eyes suddenly flipped open in shock.
No way he can reach me when I'm here… nothing could penetrate her thoughts, not even the Dreamslayer.
Before her thoughts could waver or her resolution weaken, Tamer leapt up, grabbed her staff, and stepped into the circle.
She could feel the barrier scrabbling to get in, to destroy her will, but she drew her mind away from it, hardened it. She wouldn't let it in.
She shuffled ahead, her eyes only half open. One pace in, two, three, four…she passed Gonff and Rose, and just barely felt a light paw on her shoulder, heard a soft voice. "I don't know who you are, but you can save him…please…" whispered Rose. Tamer nodded, and, afraid to do more lest her concentration waver, walked on. Five paces in, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…she was half-way there. But the barrier resisted her every step, bludgeoning her mind, forcing her back. Still, she pressed on. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen… so close… fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…
Tamer would never know exactly what happened then. Perhaps her tail got in the way, or there were rocks hidden in the ashy soil. But something happened, and Tamer found herself tumbling tip-over-tail into the dust.
Her concentration immediately snapped and she was scathingly aware of every detail around her. A flood-tide of light, sound, and emotions eddied around Tamer, threatening to pull her under. The barrier returned, bringing with it a horrid numbness, a loneliness and grief that overwhelmed her and sent her spiraling into blackness.
She clutched her head and went down. Despair flooded every vein. She felt as if they would never win, would all die…Hollypaw, Daisy, Hyacinth, Maira… all because of her…all because of her.
"Tamer!" Bollur cried, wading into the barrens, "Tamer, hold on, I'm coming! The horror isn't real, it isn't binding. It's all – Unh!" The hedgehog hit the barrier and stumbled back in the intensity of the defense. Screwing up his courage, he plunged recklessly back in.
"No!" Tamer growled, and, with an amazing strength that far exceeded even Cregga's bloodwrath, wrenched herself free from despair's iron grip. "Go back!" she managed to yell before the world shut its doors to her again. She couldn't let anyone get hurt because of her.
Nineteen paces, twenty…and there she stood, on the edge of the battle between the two champions.
Up close, it was even more obvious that Martin was barely hanging on. Yet, he still fought fiercely, jabbing recklessly at Darnat's armored form. The rat parried easily, and then riposted with such speed and ferocity that Martin was almost unable to defend himself.
Neither beast noticed Tamer at first; Martin was too tired and Darnat obviously believed that his barriers could stop anyone who attempted to disturb him.
But Tamer wouldn't stay unnoticed for long. She watched in silence for a few moments until she saw it: a slight part in Darnat's black iron armor. She lunged.
A battle-mad smile playing upon his wicked features, Darnat turned and effortlessly blocked her attack. Hid blade flashed as it shot out and clove Tamer's staff in two.
Tamer stared numbly at the broken weapon in her paws. Darnat grinned as he turned on her. "Commendable effort, dear, but you are far too late. Martin is dying, and his strength is running out. He used tactics similar to yours to evade my barrier, but one good blow will shatter his concentration – and yours – for good. Even listening to my words is making you more susceptible. Now, you didn't really think you'd get in here so easily, did you? Or was it not as simple as expected? Either way, your trials will be over soon." The rat raised the sword above his head, ready to strike. As he brought down the weapon in the fatal attack, Tamer saw, out of the corner of her eye, another weapon whistle in to block it. Martin's blade.
Laughing, the rat lodged the point of his sword under the hilt of Martin's and wrenched it from his grasp, in the process scoring a deep gash in the mouse warrior's paw. He cried out in pain and dropped to the ground, the barrier rushing in to do its work.
The rat sneered and looked at Tamer. "And now for you, pipsqueak. You honestly believed that you could defeat me and save your precious Martin. Hah! Foolishness. Oh, but I'm a sporting beast. If you don't move, then I won't. Go on. One attack, go ahead. But if you don't kill me… well, I'll kill you."
Tamer hefted the broken half of her staff, all that was left. All that heartache and strife came down to this. She was too far away to strike directly, but if she threw it and it hit his face, she may have a chance. Somehow, maybe get Martin's sword… she drew back the aspen branch carefully, aiming straight down her paw. One chance. One last chance. She threw it with all her might, watching it spiral viciously toward the rat's face…and miss it by a hairsbreadth.
Staring in horror as her final chance went wide, Tamer's mind barely took notice as Darnat whipped his sword around at the side of her head. She was weaponless, defenseless. There was nothing more she could do.
But, somehow, her body had a different idea. She ducked the blade, and popped up right in front of the crimson-eyed rat. As her mind watched helplessly, her tiny fist drew backward and she leapt, hitting Darnat squarely in the jaw.
The effect was immediate. The warlord dropped like a stone and his barrier-magic with him. Martin was up in an instant, reaching for his fallen sword and rending Darnat's head from his shoulders.
As Darnat's magic faded, the black-cowled warriors under his command suddenly collapsed into the ash that covered the earth. Behind the woodland defenders, a shape appeared. It was a pink gate, glowing from within with a soft, pearly light. The gates swung open and defenders swarmed through, only to disappear before reaching the other side. The gates to the Dark Forest. And they were safe once more.
Martin turned to the young otter, trembling beside him. "Thank you, Tamer; you have great things ahead of you, great things." He smiled gently, and placed his sword in her paws.
As the sword left Martin's grasp, it seemed as if a spell had been broken. The world around Tamer began to blur and distort. She was dimly aware of Rose and Gonff arriving and throwing themselves at Martin, and Bollur dashing up and grabbing her paw.
"Bollur, what is going on?" she asked, beginning to panic. "The world is fading…"
"No, Tamer, you're fading, "said Bollur quietly, subdued, "You're not really dead; you're going back to the realm of the living."
The world around Tamer began to grow dark; only Bollur remained in focus. "Bollur, please, I beg you, don't leave me!" she cried, grasping his paw tighter.
"I can't do that," he said quietly, "You know I can't go back. And I know that you shan't stay here. I won't let you. But Tamer, I'll wait right here for you, I swear it!"
"But, the Dark Forest…you have friends and family there…"
"No." He said firmly, "I promise to you by everything I hold dear that I'll wait right here for you. Right here."
Bollur, too, began to darken, "Bollur, I can't…" Tamer whispered.
He thrust something into the paw he was grasping. "I promise you…"
Then he let go.
The world went black.
When Tamer's eyes cleared, she was still laying in the tunnel. The dust underneath her was still wet with her hears, but she cried no more. Her grief was too deep for mere teardrops.
And yet…and yet an overwhelming sense of power infused itself into her veins. She knew, at that moment, that she could face anything that came her way.
Because in one paw was Martin's sword.
And in the other, clenched in one tiny fist…
Was Bollur's lucky quill.