With all of us encased in stone, why would they be stationed for an interception?
Moya wasn’t optimistic enough to think the exit would be completely unguarded, and with her bow, she was going to take down anyone who got in their way. Meanwhile, the others would use the element of surprise to run out the exit. Tressa would hold open the door to Nifrel, allowing each of them to jump through. Then she would close the door and they would all hope that Goll and Drome had no way to pass between the two realms. While the gamble was plagued by too many hopeful assumptions, it had the benefit of simplicity. Over the years, Moya had learned that uncomplicated was good. Still, as straightforward as it was, she knew the plan would fail. All strategies did, to one degree or another—even the simple ones. The unexpected, the stupid, or a random piece of bad luck conspired at the junction of Planning and Preparation to bring down any strategy. That was why straightforward schemes were better than complex ones—fewer moving parts meant a decrease in the chances for something to break. But oftentimes, even simple plans went astray. Blinding the beast and running for the door to Nifrel sounded good in theory. But as it turned out, it was Moya’s party that was blinded, and Goll was the one running—toward them.
Moya couldn’t get a look. In those first few moments, she couldn’t see anything clearly. The frustrating part was that her failure had been born from her own stupidity. The good news was that she could hear just fine, and she even felt the giant pounding across the marble floor. The jolting shook her whole body. In the event things didn’t go smoothly, Tekchin had suggested an alternative approach where he distracted Goll while the others got away. He had sold her on the idea with the deceptive logic that they wouldn’t need to do it unless she failed to blind the beast or the rest neglected to run. Both seemed more than unlikely to her. Tekchin, however, had witnessed more battles, and having adventured with the Galantians, he had more experience with overconfidence.
As Goll charged, Moya heard Tekchin strike his sword against something. By then, the room was visible, though little more than a whitewash of blurry images. Even so, she spotted what had to be Tekchin, trotting away and slapping his blade against the pillars.
Dinner bell!
Moya didn’t know if Goll ate people, but giants did. Of course, no one in Rel appeared to eat at all, but Moya guessed that wouldn’t keep Goll from trying. He didn’t look like the finicky sort, or the kind to give up easily—or at all. It was because of his single eye. There was no way anything could look intelligent with just one.
Goll was halfway to Tekchin by the time Moya got her first clear view of the brute. He was huge, as large as or bigger than the dragon on the hill and taller than some trees. His arms and legs were like massive stone formations. Naked to the waist, Goll displayed a pale chest that was so white it matched the marble. The tent-sized cloth that wrapped his waist was fastened by a brooch that was the size of a spear. He bore no weapons. Moya was confident he didn’t need any. The one big eye was his dominant feature. Like the yolk of an egg, it stood out on an otherwise plain face. Goll didn’t have eyelashes, but he did have a singular furry brow that bowed in the center. With so little to work with, Moya could only guess at the giant’s intended expression: irritation, rage, glee, maybe even hunger.
Goll heard Tekchin’s dinner bell and charged his way.
Moya set her feet and pulled an arrow. By letting it fly, she announced to her lover that she could see again.
No one had ever mastered the kind of precision Moya commanded with a bow, and no one but she had a bow like Audrey. It had been named after her mother—both were tightly strung. Technically, Moya didn’t have the weapon, either, but she had the memory of it, and the big bow sent Moya’s arrow across the room faster than sight, piercing the exact center of Goll’s eye. The force buried the arrow up to its feathers.
Goll shrieked. Maybe in pain, although up until then, Moya didn’t think that existed in Rel. Perhaps it was just rage, fury, or fear. Moya didn’t care. It was time to leave.
“Go!” Moya yelled, and her troop bolted like beetles from under a raised rock.
Tekchin went wide on the opposite side of the chamber as Moya directed everyone else toward the stairs.
Goll staggered but didn’t fall, clutching at his eye.
Brin, who was way out front, reached the steps first, taking them three and four at a time. Gifford ranked second in the race, dragging Roan by the arm. Moya purposely lingered at the top of the stairs with another arrow nocked.
Goll stomped.
One foot was all it took. His massive boot slammed on the floor, and the entire chamber jumped. Pillars and marble slabs that formed the walls collapsed. Two of the statues holding up the ceiling tilted, and everyone fell as if the world had hiccuped. Through a snow of marble dust, Moya turned to see Goll wrench her arrow from his eye as if it were a splinter.
“Up!” Moya shouted. “Get up!” She grabbed Tressa and pushed her toward the steps.
Tekchin rolled to his feet and ran—not to the stairs, but at Goll.
“Tek!” Moya shouted. “This way.”
The Galantian had only managed to take a few strides before Goll stomped another time.
The floor leapt once more, and everyone fell again. But that wasn’t the biggest problem. The huge creature’s acrobatics had created massive cracks in the floor, and they were growing, spreading out.
“Son of the Tetlin whore!” Moya cursed. “Everyone out! Now!”
The sound of her voice drew Goll’s attention, and he took a long stride toward the stairs. This was bad news for the plan, but an invitation for Moya, who sent another arrow, closing Goll’s eye once more. He stumbled, wavered, and fell. Goll might not have been a Typhon, but he was still massive. When his big body hit the marble, the floor gave way.
Accompanied by the cry of rock and scream of stone, Moya fell along with everything else, just one more bit of hail in a rocky storm. She landed well, and the lack of pain gave her the false impression that she was all right.
In her race down the steps and out of Drome’s palace, Brin hadn’t encountered any guards. She was the first out of the castle and halfway across the road to where the deserted gate stood. When she realized she was alone, she doubled back.
Gifford, Roan, Tressa, and Rain came out, and then everything collapsed. A massive cloud of dust and stone blew out of the front entrance as the interior of Drome’s castle caved in.
“Moya! Tekchin!” Brin struggled to enter, but huge slabs of stone blocked the way.
“Brin?” Roan called. “What do we do?”
“I don’t know—I—follow the plan, I guess. Get to the gate. Go! Tressa, unlock the door and hold it open. I’ll get Moya and Tekchin.”
Brin fanned her arms in an attempt to blow away the lingering dust cloud. Huge blocks of marble had fallen such that she was forced to crawl through the rubble.
“Moya! Tekchin! Where are you?”
“Brin!” Moya called out.
Scrambling over broken slabs and under toppled pillars, Brin found her lying on the ground. “Moya, get up. We need to—”
“I can’t!”
Only then did Brin see that Moya’s left leg was pinned from the knee down beneath a huge block of marble.
“And Tekchin . . .” With teary eyes, Moya looked toward a massive pile of stone where Goll and the bulk of the second story had come down. “He’s under there.”