25. The End of Everything

ENTIN

CHAPTER 25

It was nearly impossible now to see through the smoke and ash. They'd abandoned the sleds hours ago. Still, they trudged on through the knee-deep accumulation at a fraction of the pace he had hoped for. It wasn't until they'd made it down the switchbacks to the creek with the fish roe that they at last encountered the Wolves.

There were two of them, each draped in the pelt of a dire wolf. They held glittering, arm-length weapons that glinted with cruel menace. From their look, Entin assumed they must have been a scouting party. Thankfully, their backs were to the trail the four had just journeyed down. One of the scouts bent down and began to drink from the stream.

Entin froze, still unable to use the spear in his hand instinctively as he felt he should. But then, from right beside him, Cascade drew and hurled his spear through the kneeling man's neck. He collapsed into the river with a gurgle and a splash. The other scout looked down at his companion in shock, then wheeled toward them. It was then that Aiel gored him through the heart with her spear. He looked at her, then down at the spear, clutching at it stupidly, before spluttering and collapsing to the ground. His weapon clanged off of the stones on the riverbank. They all looked at one another uneasily, and then Aiel picked it up and regarded it with reverent awe.

"What is it made of?" T'reer asked.

He picked up the other blade.

"I… I don't know," Aiel replied.

But then, to Entin's sheer terror, howls sounded out from just out of sight up the hill. Without speaking, the four took off at a sprint. They charged across the river and finally, at long last, crossed back into the burn.

They'd made it—they'd returned to the graveyard of the mastodons. Entin and the others raced amongst the skeletons. Huge, arcing ribcages and vast piles of jumbled remains littered the landscape. The ash and smoke gave it all an otherworldly appearance, and Entin couldn't help but be reminded of his time amongst the spirits and the words the King of the Forest had spoken. He searched around for a sign—for anything—but he didn't know what he was looking for until he saw it. And there it was: the giant, hollow skull of a mastodon.

"There!" Entin cried.

It was big enough for them to huddle inside, and the opening was turned away from Mountainhome and the Slumbering God. He ran to it and waved for the others to join him.

"Get inside!" he urged.

"Entin, they'll find us if we try to hide in there!" Cascade said.

Entin started to reply but then looked past Cascade in horror. The Wolves were upon them. Dozens and dozens were charging toward them through the ash, and a veritable army was swarming across the river. His stomach sank at the sight of what he felt must be their impending doom.

He opened his mouth to cry out to the others, but a deafening boom caused everyone—even the Wolves—to halt and look to the Slumbering God. The lava pouring from its summit had formed a vast river that cascaded down its slopes and disappeared into the lowlands below. But now, great blobs of fire were being flung out high into the sky. Entin watched in awed wonder as huge volumes of magma expelled themselves. Then something he hadn't even imagined possible happened: the entire top half of the mountain exploded.

What once had been the tallest peak Entin had ever seen was gone. Well, not gone. It was flying at them in giant fragments of stone and magma. Behind it, a vast pyroclastic cloud swept forth from the ruin of the God, blotting out everything on the horizon in that direction. Within moments, small bits of debris began to crash down into the ash. Entin, overcome with awe, watched as one of the blobs of lava hurled from the distant mountain arced up and up and up and then finally began to fall right where they were standing…

"Oh shit!" T'reer cried out in panic.

The last thing Entin saw before Cascade yanked him into the hollow of the skull was the endless cloud of roiling black consuming everything in its wake. It tore toward them faster and faster and faster, and the roaring of it grew louder and louder. The sound was so overwhelming Entin worried it alone might kill them. But then the cloud reached them, and he knew beyond any doubt that had they not retreated into the skull, they'd be dead.

The air inside soon grew scorching hot and tasted of bitter sulfur and sour ash. The pyroclast roared by, seemingly endless, and after a while in the heat and discomfort and terror, Entin began to wonder if the God had tricked him—or maybe he'd just been insane the whole time. Maybe he'd misunderstood everything. Minutes passed, and the noise of utter destruction blared out from every direction as the wrath of the Slumbering God consumed their world in fire and shadow…

"Wake."

Entin's eyes fluttered open. To his astonishment and then mounting horror, he was no longer within the skull. He was nowhere, and yet…

He tried to look around, frantic to locate Cascade and the others, but saw and felt nothing.

"They remain safely within the sanctuary of the mastodon. You have my word," the being said.

"Where am I? I can't see anything. It's blackness everywhere I look. You deceived me! I want to go back to my friends. Send me back to them! NOW!" Entin cried.

"In time. But first, there is something you must see. Do not be afraid."

"Don't be afraid? Are you serious? To live is to be afraid. My whole life has been nothing but fear. I've witnessed loss and death and strife and pain on your watch, and you tell me not to be afraid. What kind of god are you?" Entin challenged.

"This kind."

Entin roared into being. Before him, a human skull floated. It was many times the size of the moon, and its eyes burned like suns. Even from this distance, Entin knew its limitless focus was directed solely at him. The intensity of its gaze seared directly into his soul.

Beneath him floated an enormous and colorful sphere. It was wrapped in brilliant blues and luscious greens. Great white masses swirled across it in places. In others, vast swaths of terrain were covered in snow or sand. It was only then he noticed the dark stain rippling out across the surface of the planet. A part of him immediately knew what it was—the Old God. The darkness it spewed forth ringed out from its center, slowly covering more and more of the earth. After a while watching it defile evermore land, it finally dawned on Entin exactly what he was looking at: home.

"You understand," the God said.

"Understand what? Why show this to me?" Entin asked angrily.

"Because your kind must survive in order for me to survive."

"What do you mean? Stop speaking in riddles. Stop forcing me to interpret your vague words. I have suffered enough of this—of all of it."

"I'm afraid this is still just the beginning. As I told you before, your Journey must be your own. You make your own choices and live with the consequences, as must all your kind. The world beneath you is yours to share or ruin. You can make it into a paradise or poison it with selfishness and greed. I created it, and you, many moons ago. It is your gift to do with as you like. There are others like it, many more than there are grains of sand in the ocean. And each of them matters. You matter, Entin. You have found love. And you did well to discover it in a world where such things have become rarer than they were ever meant to be. We must work with haste to preserve it now. It will be a great while before I speak to you again, but you have done as I asked once more, and so you shall be rewarded. Take this stone and let the moon's light guide you to where you must go. But beware, when one danger falls, another is inevitably born. The universe is a never-ending struggle for balance. You have been warned. Farewell."

The God's words faded, and everything turned to black. Entin fell back into a world of soot and ash, blood and fire.

He was home.