25th Day of Goodmonth, 565 CY

The Dungeons of the Slave Lords

The Aerie, The Pomarj

"COME ON!"

With that scream, Elrohir hauled his wife upright.

"NOW!"

But even as they began to stagger forward, the second cave fisher freed the last of its legs from the ledge.

With unexpected speed, the giant beetle wheeled around so that is was facing them.

It reared back on four legs, giant claws extending out towards them; snapping, grasping.

Elrohir couldn't stop.

He and Talass were pushing each other on with the very last vestiges of strength left in their entire bodies. If either one of them stopped running, they'd never be able to start again.

And so, without a word spoken between them, Elrohir and Talass ran directly at the monster blocking their path.

But just before they reached it, the huge insect suddenly jerked, as if something had struck it from behind.

Again. And again.

The cave fisher staggered back a step, pincers waving frantically- and the edge of the ledge crumbled under its weight.

And with a horrible squeal, the creature tumbled backwards off the ledge, spinning slowly over and over in the air as it plummeted down into the pit.

Zantac couldn't even count how many hands were squeezing his shoulders, or how many shouts of congratulations he heard.

Somehow, he could hear Cygnus' quiet voice underneath them all.

"Best damn use of magic missiles I've ever seen."

Elrohir could feel the muscles in his wife's legs tense up.

They dodged the darting claws of the other cave fisher.

And the two of them leapt out into space.

There was nothing more they could do now.

Fate had them in its hands.

It seemed so quiet.

So unreal.

Elrohir could see his friends, his companions, clustered on the far side of the ledge. He couldn't see if there was anyone left on the other side.

He hoped not.

The two of them sailed through the air, spinning like a well-aimed arrow. Across, and down.

It was amazing; how long it seemed to be taking.

Elrohir couldn't tell if they were going to make it or not. It was going to be very close either way.

And so, holding the woman he loved more than any person in the Three Worlds in his arms, Elrohir looked into her eyes one more time.

The ranger put his life and his soul into two words.

One last command for his beloved.

"Talass," he said softly. "Heal."

There is one thing I can do, Elrohir now realized and without hesitation, he began to do it.

He twisted his body within their aerial embrace.

They spun around as they hurled towards the edge of the chasm. The ranger had a brief glimpse of his friends scattering out of the way.

They were going to make the ledge.

They probably would never survive the impact, of course.

But Elrohir still spun the two of them around.

And now he was on the bottom.

For what it was worth, Elrohir would try to protect the love of his life- one last time.

For one brief and yet timeless moment, he remembered making love to her.

You're on top, dearest, he thought, smiling.

Just the way you always liked-