Never Once More

[Tassle Riverswift]

The cavern they stood in was massive. The feeble light of the torches only gave Tassle a glimpse of the vast, stalactited ceiling that loomed over the black surface of the underground pool. Stunned for a moment, she stood there with the snarls and cries echoing around her. Brooga stood beside her, still holding her back.

Meena's cloying incense was leaving her nostrils and Tassle felt her head clearing. Horror quickly took the place of bewhilderment. The silver wolf had launched herself into the fray with undecorous ferocity. Now she and the white wolf fought with Ulrick and Cricket. Meena was slighter than the hulking white male, but quicker and sly.

This was what it came to. There was no more subtelty or tricks left, no more bargains or traps. Two once-enemies fought side by side against two mad, blood-thirsty monsters who wished them dead. A fitting end.

Tassle bared her teeth and took a step forward, rage and love of battle rising up in her. She would fight as well! If they were doomed then she would die fighting against something evil, in the hopes that some might live on.

There was another tug at her arm and the rage grew suddenly into cold fear. Tassle twisted her head around and stared at Brooga, who looked with horror at the battle. She couldn't. There were still those who needed her. She couldn't abandon them. Her task was not yet done, and perhaps there was still a way out.

"We have to find Roger," Tassle said desperately, trying not to look at the fight though its sound was all around her. "We can't help here. Let's find him and get out of here!"

Brooga nodded quickly and they huddled together as they stepped further into the cavern. Roger had gone this way. He had to be here somewhere, if he hadn't already been killed.

"Thurr!" Brooga shouted, one large digging claw stretching out to point towards the water. Tassle stared, her eyes not seeing as well as the mole's in the underground dimness.

A figure huddled near the lake. No- there was two figures. Brooga gave a cry and broke into a run towards them. Sobbing, Tassle started off at her heels. The other figure was Obligo.

The rat had found a knife somewhere. Its blade was wet with blood, and a red stain was seeping through Roger's tattered garment. But the mouse still stood, trying to stumble away from the advancing rat.

"Stop!" Tassle shouted, eyes blazing as her paw found the hilt of her cutlass. "Let him be!"

Obligo showed no signs that he had heard. His dark eyes gleamed in the light as he lunged for the mouse. Roger stumbled backwards, into the dark water. He gave a strangled cry and then kept backing up, away from the rat.

"You die!" Obligo shrieked, charging in after him in a spray of water. The two figures floundered out deeper. The water had risen to their chests by the time Brooga reached the water's edge, with Tassle close behind.

And then the water stirred, far out in the depths. A tide of ripples surged towards the shore, washing against Roger and Obligo. The two figures froze, and Brooga half turned to Tassle with a question in her eyes.

The water erupted in an explosion of spray and stench. Foul-smelling water cascaded everywhere as a monolithic shape emerged from the depths of the lake. Tentacles, some as big around as Ulrick, leapt forward from the lake and snaked towards Roger and Obligo. Roger died before he had a chance to cry out. Obligo gave a strangled gasp before a tentacle grabbed him and hauled him back into the darkness, into the black void of a huge mouth.

Tassle was screaming as she stopped running, cowering back from the gigantic monster. A wave of stench swept from it, a hundred times stronger than the smell from the caves. It overpowered her senses for a moment. She could think of nothing. Her mind was frozen with terror.

The arrival of the monster had caused a lull in the ferocious battle behind them. Meena, one ear torn and bloody, pulled herself up and pointed victoriously towards the writhing creature.

"Behold the Devourer, you fools!" she called triumphantly. "It shall be the last thing you shall ever see!"

Somebeast else stood, transfixed by the sight. Quaking, Brooga stood ankle-deep in the water and stared upwards. A hideous mouth, full of jagged teeth, appeared. The tentacles began to move towards Brooga.

No!

This couldn't be happening. Not Brooga. Not her friend. Not like this! Tassle could not stand by and see her very last friend die. The shrew had protected her this far- she was the last one left to protect.

"I will NOT let you die!" she cried in agony, her feet beginning to move at last. She felt as if the world had suddenly stopped spinning. There was only herself, madly running and drawing her blade, Brooga standing paralyzed before the great mouth, and the creature.

Tassle charged past Brooga, pushing the mole backwards as she ran straight towards the monster. Her face was set with a terrible, death-like grin, but there was a strange light of victory in her eyes.

"Run, Broog!" she shouted, not looking backward. "Live to taste freedom again!"

And then it was just her and the creature. The stench was overpowering, blurring her senses as she looked up at the hideous sight. The shrew gritted her teeth as the tentacles came straight for her, and kept on running into the water.

She could see the River Moss again, flowing with pure clean water to the sea. There were logboats in the river and shrews, the Guosim, all around. They were laughing, and joyful, and free. There was not a taint of evil marring the scene...

A tentacle wrapped itself around her waist and lifted her into the air, squeezing all the breath from her lungs. Both paws holding the sword, Tassle brought it down on the slimy skin.

There was a mole, old but strangely familiar, sitting in a rocking chair with a little mole on her knee, patiently sewing as she told the babe a story. It was peaceful and calm, far from fear or danger...

Greenish-black blood oozed from the tentacle as it spasmed and dropped Tassle. The shrew gasped in one painful breath before another tentacle caught her. She dangled just above the teeth, now.

A group of shrews sat around a fire at night, laughing. There was a handsome young buck holding the hand of a female. The female held a babe, and both of them looked down on it with adoration. And then the picture faded...

Tassle didn't notice that there was hot tears coursing down her cheeks, mingling with the blood of the beast and herself. The tentacle loosened around her middle, and she brought the sword up high over her head.

A light of hope and purity shone in a sea of darkness and ill-deeds, drawing the hearts of the brave to it...

And then with all her might she struck for freedom, for friendship, for the fact that she had done what she had to do up to the very last and had not failed her charge. She had given her all, and with her last breath protected those who she led.

Tassle was smiling as the teeth closed in around her, as her grip weakened and then failed on the hilt of the sword she had thrust into the monster. And then there was darkness, and then a misty field and a green forest, with a pair of gates closing behind her and a host of creatures coming out to greet her.

She would never be a slave again.