Melody and Misha were nearly at the base of the tree now with Bran just behind them, slashing the creatures as they attacked. Apart from the ones that were climbing, the rest were now either trying to attack Bran or dead and disintegrating.
Below Coral, Melody held out her arms. "Jump!" she shouted again.
Short, naughty, short-sighted Melody, the little girl who always came last in races and gave up the earliest in marathons was now the one saving Coral. It was foolish, it was crazy.
Coral let go of the tree and dropped, reaching out her hands to her friend.
Her love.
Coral's lips met Melody's and for a moment it seemed like time stopped.
She was cold, dreadfully cold, but it was warm where they met, and she leaned into it. The stress, the worry, the fear, all of it drained out of her.
Then she went limp, falling into Melody's arms.
"Coral!" Melody gasped, face red, but the girl was out cold.
Around them the grey, oozing beasts also went limp then fell apart, becoming one with the ground.
Was it over? Had they succeeded?
Misha turned to Bran to ask him, but the latter had his gaze fixed on something else. Misha looked and saw that the purple veins that had threaded through the grey ooze was now gathering together, growing larger and larger, like a giant tumour forming at the head of a sunflower.
The awful thing rotated and slithered along the ground towards Melody and the unconscious Coral but Bran was too quick for it.
One slash, that's all it took for the purple monstrosity to be beheaded.
Its bulbous head fell hard to the ground and began to collapse like a punctured balloon. Around it, the purple tendrils withered and turned black.
"It's over," said Bran. He walked to the two girls. "Can you stand?"
Melody shook her head, so Misha went over and helped her up while supporting Coral too.
Bran turned, raised his sword, then slashed the air.
A line appeared in the air that then widened, mouth-like.
"Through here," said Bran.
"Where are we going?" asked Melody as she held Coral to her. Her face was still red.
"Going through here will wake you up. When you do, check on Coral. She should be fine as well."
Melody's eyes went wide, and she looked to the girl in her arms. She pulled her closer then nodded. "Alright."
--
The dream-Coil was eerily quiet after Melody and Coral had left. I pointed at the rip in space. "Do we go through there too?" I asked.
"No," you replied. "We came in physically, so we need to go back through the door. Do you remember where it is?"
I nodded. "More or less."
"Good. You head back there, go through, then wait for me at home. I shouldn't be too much longer."
"What? Why?"
You gestured toward the dark purple remains of that strange flower. "I need to tie up some loose ends, find the spell from the book and remove the contamination."
"I can help," I said.
You shook your head. "Not this time," you said. "I promise I won't be long."
I was surprised at how hurt I felt by being told that I wasn't needed here but I refused to let it show. I wasn't that immature. "Alright," I said with fake bravado. "Don't be too long. It won't take me long to cook dinner."
You waved and I set off back into the grey, spiraling walls.
--
Bran waited until Misha had disappeared for a few minutes before he closed his eyes and raised his sword.
He didn't like sending Misha away like this, and he could guess Misha didn't like it either, but he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on what he had to do if he was around. Maybe later, if Misha asked, he'd try to explain but for now, he had to focus.
With his eyes still closed, Bran held the sword with the blade up with his left hand and touched his index finger to the blade. Instantly, blood blossomed out from the wound, and he lowered the sword, this time with his right hand. He kept his index finger outstretched and touching the blade just beyond the hilt so that the blood could travel down the sword's central ravine.
The blood, his blood, flowed fast and smooth and quickly arrived at the blade's point where it stopped without dripping.
"Draw," Bran said, opening his eyes and taking off his glasses. As he did, red marks appeared under his eyes and curled up to his temples while his pupils took on a reddish hue. From his right hand, black patterns slithered up his arm and arrived at the nape of his neck.
Bran took a slow breath, feeling the unsheathed power of the sword, letting it fill him.
Then he took the hilt with both hands and slashed diagonally the air.
The ground in front of him split open with an earsplitting groan, revealing a writhing red sea deep below.
Bran stood at the edge of the hole and looked down. Coral would be waking up soon so even with the accelerated time in the dream-Coil, so he didn't have a lot of time to get this done. But at the same time, he had to have some kind of target…
A purple glimmer in the lava-like substance caught his attention. It was only there for a moment, but it was enough.
Bran stepped off the edge and plunged down, sword first. Before he or the blade made contact with the lava, the stuff reeled backwards exposing the black ground beneath.
Bran stood, held the sword out in front of him almost like it was some kind of sensor, and began to walk. The lava moved away in waves then pooled back together again behind him, but it fortunately didn't take him long to rediscover that purple glimmer.
Unlike the lava, it was solid, a purple crystal attached firmly to the ground and sprouting up like a flower.
Bran looked at it a moment, committing its appearance to memory, then swung his sword.
The crystal shattered and a sharp pain raced up Bran's sword arm and imbedded itself in his heart. He gasped and knelt to the floor, panting.
What was going on? That crystal had been tiny, how had it contained so much taint?
Bran's gaze fell upon the ground again and then he understood.
Where the crystal had been was now a growing patch of new purple crystal. What he had destroyed was merely the tip of the iceberg.
Bran forced himself up and stabbed his sword down hard.
The crystal shattered, but more quickly grew back in its place. What's more, that same deathly pain traveled up his arms and to his heart again. Could he take another blow? If this had been years ago, then he would be fine, but he hadn't had time to see his aunt yet, hadn't had time to get that health check-up.
He'd known for a while that he was close to the precipice, but how close exactly, he couldn't be sure.
Bran raised his sword again. His hand was shaking.
One more. He could do one more…
But before Bran could swing his sword down again, the growth of the crystals suddenly accelerated, stabbing out toward him like spikes.
Bran jumped back instinctively and just barely managed to avoid them. They were growing too fast.
He raised his sword again, but this time for defense. A shard of crystal suddenly shot at him, but he parried, sending it clanging against the walls.
Around him, the lava surged, edging closer to him now that his power was beginning to wane.
He had to get out of here. There was no way he could remove the rest of the taint himself. How Coral had ended up like this, was anyone's guess, but he there was nothing he could do about it all by himself.
He grit his teeth and changed sword stances.
The next volley of crystals came faster than the first and he barely managed to parry them away. What was worse was that each time the crystal touched the sword, another wave of pain would wash over him, sapping his strength and making his vision go blurry.
Do you desire power?
Bran pushed away the thought.
Do you desire a chance to live?
Again, he tried to push the thought away, but this time he was slower. He did want to live.
Bran went down onto his knees. Maybe he should just give in? He was at the end of the line afterall, what difference did it make? Just give in, let it take over, if he survived, then he could just…
"No," Bran forced himself to say even as he felt the power from the sword withdraw out of him, teasing him, tempting him. "No…"
His eyes closed and his hands loosened on the hilt of the sword. No, if this was the end, then he would go as himself…
The sword fell from his hands and plunged into the ground. Around him, the lava rose up, now no longer afraid of this interloper, and closed in.