If they caught her, Bryn knew they would batter her, strip off her clothes, then slice off her limbs and devour her flesh. Tears stung in her eyes, and she was so weak; she could barely cling to the stone. She ground her teeth and kept climbing.

Another arrow flew from below.

She roared with pain. The flint head tore into her shoulder and emerged bloody from the other side.

She fell. She slid down several feet.

A Widejaw grabbed her ankle. His teeth drove into her calf.

It's over.

She closed her eyes.

I can't defeat them. They'll slay me. They'll emerge on the mountaintop, hundreds of beasts. Jeid and the others will fall.

The teeth kept biting, and the Widejaws laughed and jeered, and her blood spilled.

And she saw him again in the darkness.

Jeid.

She reached out. She could imagine his kind face in the shadows, an apparition, a dream before her death.

His eyes stared into hers. His voice cried out.

Fight them! Climb, Bryn! Flee them.

She shook. She could not. She was too weak, too hurt.

She sucked in air as the Widejaws tugged her down, as their teeth ripped into her, eating her alive.

For Requiem.

She reached up a shaking hand. She could see it above in the darkness—the stars of Requiem.

For you, Requiem. For our eternal halls.

She screamed and kicked madly, slamming her foot against the Widejaw's face. She felt his nose crush. She heard him scream. She scurried up the tunnel, leaving them behind, as her blood spurted.

Two arrows filled her. The Widejaw teeth had torn into her leg; she feared to see the wound, to find her foot gone, consumed down to the bone. She kept climbing, dragging herself forward, digging her fingers into the rock. They roared behind her, laughing.

"Stop playing with your food, Shog!" one voice cried out. Others laughed.

"The playful little minx is making this fun. Slick as a fish!"

She kept climbing, bleeding, gritting her teeth, until she felt the cold wind, and she smelled it above—the sky.

She laughed and wept.

She climbed a few more feet, and she saw them above—the true stars of Requiem, bright and beautiful in the sky, calling to her.

Bleeding, maybe dying, Bryn reached out and felt the wind upon her fingers. She saw him fly above, a great copper dragon limned in moonlight—Jeid, her king.

I'm going to live, she thought. I'm going to fly with Jeid again. She clutched the edge of the hole and began to climb. I'm going to climb out, and we'll fill this hole with dragonfire. I—

Pain blazed anew across her leg.

She turned her head and saw the Widejaw biting into her again, ripping into her flesh, eating her.

She screamed and reached up, struggling to climb out. She looked back at the stars . . . and could no longer see them. Fire and smoke washed across the sky.

Bryn gasped.