This is how it kills me, she thinks, and Isobelle hears the words though Gwen’s lips don’t move.Every time, this is how it kills me.
Isobelle’s breath catches. In the dream, Gwen chooses to fall, again and again, and every time she wakes before she hits the bottom. She sees Gwen’s thoughts, reliving the moment shechoseto fall, her fear rising up to choke her. A fear that maybe the fall is all she is, now – that it’s the only thing the dragon left behind when it stripped away her soul.
And yet … when Isobelle sees her make her choice, the only thingshesees is an act of unimaginable bravery.
Gwen knew Isobelle was out there. Gwen protected her and put her trust in her.
Isobelle’s hands creep up to cup Gwen’s face, bring her wild gaze back, stroke her cheekbones. ‘Oh, my love,’ she whispers, heart aching. She understands, suddenly, fully. ‘My love … a leap of faith is not a fall.’
Gwen’s eyes go wide and fix on hers as the words echo between them.
A leap of faith is not a fall.
Above them, the dragon screams with sudden triumph – it’s found them. A whoosh of wings echoes down the abyss as it speeds towards them.
Gwen is still looking at Isobelle. Isobelle wonders if Gwen hasn’t heard the dragon, doesn’t recognise the danger racing their way. But then Gwen moves, shakily, and Isobelle understands suddenly why Gwen was clinging to that cliff one-handed.
In her other hand, she’s still holding Isobelle’s torch – it bears the same hilt as the sword Gwen made as Isobelle watched her, and yearned for her.
Their eyes meet. Isobelle takes hold of the torch as well, and it sputters to life.
An instant later, a screaming tangle of tapestry threads comes flapping out of the darkness at them, all teeth and claws and fire. They lift the torch and turn their faces towards each other – the mass ripples, and with it the fabric of Gwen’s dream, tatters falling away. The dragon writhes and screams as threads are stripped from its being. First its claws, and then its grasping fingers – its tail unravels into the starry black – the tips of its wings explode into corroded bronze strands, and it shrieks again as it falls past them, down, down into the abyss below, leaving only the faint echo of its despairing cry until that too fades into darkness.
Gwen stands beside Isobelle, looking down, panting long, ragged breaths. Slowly, her gaze lifts, fixed on a middle distance somewhere in the inky black that surrounds them. Then she turns, looking at Isobelle with wide, wondering eyes.
Isobelle scans her knight’s features. The cuts and bruises are gone; she looks as fresh now as if she’s just dressed. Gwen looks, perhaps, even better than Isobelle feels. The weariness settling through Isobelle is oddly pleasant, though – the exhaustion of hard work worth doing.
‘You saved me.’ Gwen’s voice is a soft summons, and Isobelle’s gaze rises to meet hers.
‘I just stayed with you,’ Isobelle replies. ‘Gwen, all this time, I’ve been trying to fix this for you, to take it away, to distract you every time this nightmare came for you. I … didn’t know.’
Gwen’s eyes widen, and she steps forward to slide a gentle hand against Isobelle’s waist, the other going to caress a lock of her hair. ‘Know what?’
‘That I couldn’t force you to let me save you.’ Isobelle bows her head against Gwen’s shoulder. ‘That I was powerless.’
Gwen’s body quakes in that little shiver that betokens one of her silent laughs – it runs through Isobelle’s cheek and down her body, like a warm caress. ‘Consensual rescuing,’ she murmurs, once again dry, her smile in hervoice. ‘I like it. But … Isobelle, why do you say you were powerless?’
Isobelle lifts her head to see Gwen looking at her, solemn once more. Isobelle bites her lip, her heart quailing; but how can she respond to Gwen’s bravery with cowardice of her own? ‘Because I love you, and I have to watch you risk your life over and over again, and it’s agony, and theonlything I can do is try to help you after the battle is done, and if I can’t even do that …’
Gwen lifts her hand to brush Isobelle’s cheek, then feel the texture of her hair again, fingertips sliding in a curve above her ear. She says nothing for some time, seemingly lost in the slow stroke of her fingertips against Isobelle’s skin.
Then her chest rises in a deeper breath, and her voice sounds against Isobelle’s body. ‘When I first fought the sea monster,’ she says, ‘Isawthat sword move to deliver the final blow. It moved, Isobelle. Someonemadeit move. Someone with faith so strong they could weave victory out of defeat.’
Isobelle sees where Gwen is going, and she shakes her head. ‘I wouldknowif I could do magic, Gwen.’
‘Would you?’ Gwen’s fingers tighten the tiniest bit on Isobelle’s chin, bringing her gaze back to meet hers. ‘I mean it, Isobelle … would you know? If magic is all about intention and will … no one in the world has a stronger will than you do, love.’
The word spills out, and they both stare at each other. Isobelle bites her lip to try to hold back her smile – Gwen doesn’t bother, letting her smile widen and soften again.
‘No one,’ she goes on, gazing intently into Isobelle’s face. ‘You took a girl with a quiet, dying dream and turned her into a knight. No, listen,’ she adds, as Isobelle starts to protest. ‘I played my part in that too, I own it. But I never would have ridden past that first joust if it wasn’t for you. You decided to find your own champion. And you made yourself one.’
Isobelle swallows. ‘You make it sound like I forced you into it.’
Gwen bows her head, shaking it lightly. When she lifts it again, there are tears in her eyes. ‘No, love. All you did was show me it was okay not to let go of my dream. You saved me.’ She leans her forehead against Isobelle’s. ‘That’s what I forgot, in my dream – that you always save me.’
Isobelle slides her hand over Gwen’s, where it rests on her cheek. ‘I always will.’ She turns her head and brings her lips to Gwen’s palm.
Gwen lifts her head a little to watch Isobelle’s mouth against her skin, and murmurs almost as if to herself, ‘I think … I think that if there is such a thing as a fear witch, there must also be something …’ Her voice trails off.
