CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

Sacrificial Play, Part 2

Sam wasn’t entirely sure what held him back. It wasn’t as if this ‘bridge’ was the worst thing he’d faced within the Endless Maze. But he couldn’t ignore the foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach because he had survived this long relying on that gut instinct.

I’m being silly... Farsight’s the one who can predict the future, not me, he reasoned.

He wished Chiron was present to guide him; to alleviate his worries or tell him off for being too cautious.

“Come on, lame-brain,” Thunder said as she held her hand out to him.

Her encouraging tone did nothing to lessen his worries, but there was no way he’d let her attempt such a dangerous crossing without him. So, with a deepening brow, Sam took Thunder’s hand in his so she could pull him onto the bridge.

“It’s okay.” Thunder’s fingers tightened around Sam’s. “We’ll make it together.”

“Yeah,” Sam answered. “Together...”

Sam’s unease would continue to hound him while he and Thunder chased after the others who were moving swiftly across the bridge, creating a sizeable gap between their two groups. But when he heard the flapping of wings close behind them, his gaze snapped back to the platform where the dragon had just landed.

“Oh, come on, can’t we catch a break!” Sam complained.

A mere fifteen yards separated them, and that wasn’t much considering the length of this serpentine horror.

Then the sound of pealing thunder reached his ears, forcing Sam’s gaze upward.

“Styx...it’s one thing after another,” he muttered.

A storm cloud was gathering above their half of the bridge.

Sam squeezed Thunder’s hand to get her attention. “Tell me this is you.”

Thunder looked up, frowned, and then shook her head. “My lightning’s... not that color...”

Purple lightning forked across the clouds, leaving Sam no doubt as to who had conjured this magical storm.

“Oh no...” he gasped.

A bolt of purple lightning exploded onto the bridge, shattering a good-sized chunk of it a mere ten feet from where Sam and Thunder stood. The boom of thunder followed, causing Sam’s ears to wring so badly that he could barely hear Thunder screaming for him to run.

They tore through the bridge, both of them stumbling in their haste. Still, they managed to keep each other up despite their fatigue.

More purple lightning flashed across the sky, exploding onto the bridge behind them. These lightning strikes drew closer to hitting their mark with each attack. As if the storm cloud above was honing in on them bit by bit.

“I knew I should have listened to my gut!” Sam huffed.

He wasn’t sure if it was the fourth or sixth bolt that finally hit them; he could only remember the blast blowing him and Thunder off the bridge. They were pulled away from each other as they fell so that a widening chasm grew between them.

“Thunder!” Sam aimed his right arm in her direction. “Grab hold!”

The grappling hook launched from his bracer and soared in an arc across the void toward her. Remembering how his aim was crap, a moment of doubt filled Sam’s mind. Although this was easily dispelled by Thunder catching the line just as it passed her.

With Thunder’s life in his hands, Sam launched the grappling hook in his left arm’s bracer up to the floating bridge, and it just managed to pierce through a portion of wooden debris that had yet to be blown away by Medea’s spell.

“Time to channel...my inner Spider-Man,” Sam puffed.

As the line pulled tautly, Sam swung in an arc while pulling Thunder along with him. Once his momentum reached its crescendo, he pulled hard on the line and used the resistance to boost himself back onto the bridge. At the same time, he swung his right arm upward so that Thunder would be carried up and over him, sending her back onto the bridge even before he landed on it.

“Thank the gods... for level thirty strength,” Sam wheezed.

Sweat coated his forehead. The effort had taken a toll on him.

“I was wondering... when you’d think... to use your bracers,” Thunder huffed.

Sam took a second to catch his breath before replying with, “Yeah, I sometimes forget I have them.”

“I know,” Thunder replied.

Purple light flashed above them. It was a clear warning that another one of Medea’s lightning bolts was coming their way.

At a speed that belied her fatigue, Thunder pushed Sam aside. Then she raised her right hand high and caught the purple bolt in her open palm.

Sam watched as she twirled her body around like a ballerina and redirected the energy from her right hand to her left hand so she could hurl the purple bolt back into the sky and right at the storm cloud from whence it came.

Krak-ka-boom!

Medea’s magic collided with each other, and this disrupted the spell enough to break its form.

Sam, whose eyes had grown wider with each second of this amazing feat, whispered, “You’re amazing...”

“I... know,” Thunder replied weakly.

He helped her up without asking her how she felt. Her face, pale and drawn more than ever before, was answer enough. Sam slung her arm over his shoulder and then half-carried, half-dragged Thunder across the second half of the bridge.

This bridge, which in Sam’s mind was now ‘The Bridge of Doom’, was at least a hundred yards long from one end to the other. Jackboot and Farsight had already reached that ten-yard line by the end zone, but Dr. Hearthstone lingered further back so he could help Sam and Thunder when they reached him. As for Sam and Thunder, they made it maybe fifty yards forward before they heard the flapping of wings behind them once again.

The first of Medea’s dragons had left its perch and was now nearly on top of them—and Sam knew that there was no chance they could both escape its clutches.

“I like you,” Sam whispered.

Thunder’s eyes drifted toward him. “I know...”

He pressed his hand against her back.

“Sam... what are you—”

With the last of his strength, Sam launched Thunder into the air—and the gods really must have been watching this battle because she fell right into the arms of Dr. Hearthstone who’d moved to catch her after he noticed what Sam had done.

Sam heard her yell his name in a desperate voice that was quickly drowned out by the bridge shuddering beneath him. Medea’s dragon landed about five yards behind him with its neck arching back like a cobra about to strike. It let loose a terrible roar that carried a wave of magical force behind it.

He felt this oppressive energy pass through him—reminding Sam that he was way out of his league—and dug his heels on the bridge floor.

“No...” Sam let out a deep breath. “I won’t let you pass.”

Not only did his voice not waver, but Sam even let out a brief chuckle. And no, he hadn’t just lost his mind. Sam had just remembered something from his past, a scene from one of his father’s favorite movies.

He glanced behind him—saw Thunder struggling in Dr. Hearthstone’s arms, saw his other two friends waiting for them by the bottom step of the wooden staircase—and Sam smiled. “Fly, you fools... Fly.”

Then Sam turned back to face the enemy that had been decent enough to wait for him to say goodbye. He drew Gram from its sheath and then pointed the blade’s tip at the solar dragon.

In response, the dragon spread its wings wide. Fire leaked out of the chinks in its scales, wreathing its upper half entirely in hot flames.

“That’s right, keep its eyes fixed on me,” Sam whispered.

Wielding Gram with both hands, he raised the sword in challenge. And, as if sensing the true nature of its foe, the blade shone with a brilliant blue aura.

Seeing the light of a hated blade, the dragon fired off a mighty roar, causing the bridge underneath Sam to rumble once more. It opened its jaws wide, revealing teeth the same length and sharpness as the blade in Sam’s hands. However, the hero didn’t cower back from the horror’s taunt. His resolve kept him steady.

Sam now understood why he’d been so hesitant to cross the bridge. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this moment was inevitable. There was no way they would all reach the exit. Someone would be left behind to fulfill the duty at the very heart of what it meant to be a hero. And Sam, with his penchant for being the martyr, knew deep down that this was his role.

“You shall not pass,” Sam muttered, repeating words he’d heard in a movie once upon a time. Then, with more feeling, he screamed, “You shall not pass!”

A pair of teal-colored eyes shining with hope and goodness stared down two blazing red reptilian irises so full of malice—and then the dragon’s head snapped toward Sam at the same time as he launched himself into the air.

“Bulwark!” Sam yelled just as the horror’s jaws fell upon him.

His barrier rose only to shatter quickly, but it had given Sam enough time to press his attack. Bulwark broke and the dragon’s sharp teeth pierced into his body, but Sam had also dealt his enemy a blow. He plunged Gram deep into the dragon’s right eye.

The dragon roared. Sam howled. With both hero and horror writhing in pain, they plunged into the void below.