Boulderbash sniffed at Sorrel, and she growled deep in her throat. You’re no bear-priest. You’re the two-legs who likes the changeling. Her paw whirled out, and she bashed the Tansyard to the ground before he could move.
Don’t kill him! Clovermead begged. He can’t rescue me. He just wanted to comfort me.
That’s a pretty story, said Boulderbash. I don’t think I believe it. She sniffed the air. What’s that scent?
Clovermead kept her hand from jerking to the locket. I can’t smell a thing in this charnel house.
Liar, said Boulderbash. Sorrel started to wriggle away from her, and she put a paw gently on his chest. He lay very still. Tell me, or I’ll kill the two-legs. She took another sniff, and her eyes went wide. Never mind. You have my Ursus’ caul. I would recognize that smell after a thousand years. She lifted her paw from Sorrel. Tell him not to run.
“She says not to run, Sorrel,” said Clovermead.
“I would not dream of it,” said Sorrel faintly. “I will just lie here and count raindrops as they land on my face.”
Boulderbash bent her head down. Show me the caul, changeling.
Clovermead still had the locket clutched in her hands. Slowly she lifted it up to the white bear.
“What are you doing, Clovermead?” asked Sorrel, low and urgent. “If you give away that locket after everything I did to bring it to you, I will be very annoyed with you for the few remaining minutes of our lives.”
“She doesn’t want it for a weapon, Sorrel,” said Clovermead. She looked at Boulderbash’s intent face. “She just wants to remember Ursus properly. Anyway, if she wanted to take it from us, there’s not much we could do to stop her. All she has to do is pull it away from me and then kill us.” Clovermead opened the locket.
Boulderbash gazed at the dried skin, folded like layers of parchment. It was pink, orange, and brown. At one edge were faint claw marks.
Glowing blackness appeared on the caul, surged backward and forward along its flesh, and faded once again.
Nothing of you remains uncorrupted, my little cub, said Boulderbash. A tear fell down her white fur, along the wrinkles etched in her cheeks. She stepped backward. Close up the metal box, changeling. Clovermead shut the locket. It has great power, doesn’t it? I was there when he sent Snuff to look for it. I heard his rage when Snuff returned empty-handed.
It has the rest of the power Ursus stole from Our Lady, said Clovermead. Somehow we’re supposed to use it to stop him—but that isn’t working out so well. She tugged at the chain. I don’t see what Sorrel or I can do.
You don’t have the strength. More tears coursed down her face. I will, with the caul. It is my flesh as much as Ursus’. His power will spill through it to me. Softly she moaned. I bore him in my womb. I’m responsible for him. I always was. Give me the caul, changeling.
Clovermead’s eyes widened. “She wants me to give her the caul, Sorrel.”
“So she can take it to Ursus?” Sorrel spat rainwater from his mouth. “I suppose that has the advantage of speedy efficiency. Still, I will be annoyed with you.”
“I think she’s going to use it to fight him.”
“That would be less annoying.” Sorrel sat up, but Boulderbash didn’t move. “Do you trust her? As I recollect, she has attacked us a few times.”
“I don’t know.” She looked for the moon. The tarpaulin, the clouds, had left the world dark. There was no light save for Chandlefort’s burning ruins. Lady, is she telling the truth? Is this what I’m supposed to do with the locket? There was no gleam of light. Must I choose by myself? Boulderbash still wept. Clovermead touched the cold locket, and she groaned. Oh, Lady, what else should I do with the locket? Wait until it’s taken from me and I die?
She looked again at Boulderbash. The old bear had little enough love for Clovermead. But there was a terrible sorrow in her eyes.
I know you well enough by now, thought Clovermead. You won’t betray us.
Clovermead held up the locket—and now Boulderbash drew back. She snarled unhappily. Must I take this gift from you? Her eyes glowed once more with her old anger, her old resentment. So many treacheries. I don’t want this from your hands.
It isn’t a gift, said Clovermead. It was yours to begin with. Boulderbash hesitated, nodded, and lowered her head to Clovermead’s side. Clovermead stretched her chained arms as far as they could reach, and pushed the necklace over Boulderbash’s snout and jaws. The white bear thrust her head forward, and the locket and chain fell down to her neck.
Light coruscated through the night and slashed the tarpaulin to ribbons. Rain fell on Clovermead, but she scarcely noticed. Boulderbash’s fur glowed with a sheen of moonlight. She barely contained it within her flesh. She had grown larger.
The bear-priests gaped at the white bear. Then they stood and hesitantly put up their spears. Boulderbash rushed at them, swept out her paw, and bowled them over like ninepins. When the bear-priests got to their feet again, they scampered away.
Boulderbash padded back to Clovermead. Thank you, she said. Her growl surged like the tide. Let me repay you. Her claws slashed through Clovermead’s chains. Another second, and she snapped the collar around Clovermead’s neck and the cuffs at her hands and feet. The splintered metal flew from Clovermead. The white bear rose up and balanced on her hind legs. With one paw she cut through the pole that held up Lady Cindertallow’s corpse; with the other she caught the body as it fell. Boulderbash fell down onto three legs, still holding Lady Cindertallow in the crook of the fourth, and laid her on the ground. Clovermead grabbed the shattered remnants of the tarpaulin and pulled it over her mother.
“So far,” said Sorrel, “this is most encouraging.” He picked himself up from the wet ground. “What happens next?”
Boulderbash turned to look at Clovermead and Sorrel. Get on my back. I need you still.
What can we do? asked Clovermead.
Don’t leave me alone for this, said Boulderbash. Don’t abandon me again.
“She wants company,” said Clovermead to Sorrel. “Follow me.” She stumbled onto Boulderbash’s back and hung on with both hands. More gingerly Sorrel hopped on behind her. Boulderbash roared and began to run.
Boulderbash raced away from the Castle, toward Our Lady’s chapel in the middle of the town. They passed the looted mansions of Chandlefort, leaped over tiny bear-priests, who scattered before Boulderbash’s shining bulk. The world was a blur beneath Clovermead, and in minutes they came to the chapel.
Ursus had demolished it. Rose stone, wood, and glass had been smashed into rubble; the roof was gone, and the water from the Pool in the chapel’s center had leaked into the debris and made it a muddy pond mixed with boulders. Ruddy firelight, as bright as blood, shone through the sundered walls. Ursus sat in the remnants of the temple and gorged on slaves. Another slave was being brought to the chapel square in bonds just as Boulderbash arrived. The bear-priests who held the slave prisoner released him from his bonds, jabbed him with spears, and forced him to run into the temple. Ursus waited while the slave scuttled around the broken columns; then Ursus leaped after him, like a cat after a mouse. He was a quick hunter; bubbling screams came quickly. His jaws were bright red.
Lucifer Snuff crouched in the rubble. He watched Ursus at play, and his eyes were bright with devoted love. He smiled to see his master’s joy.
Boulderbash came to a halt at the other end of the square. Off, she said to Clovermead and Sorrel. They slipped to the ground. The time has come to make an end of this, Ursus, she called out.
Ursus lifted his head from his bloody meal. He snorted laughter, for he was still half again as large as Boulderbash. How will you make me, Mother? You don’t have the strength.
I think I do, said Boulderbash. She moved forward, and the radiance from her fur billowed through the ruined temple. Involuntarily Ursus stepped backward.
“You live, girlie,” said Snuff. He glanced at Sorrel. “And the Tansyard, too.” He rose from his crouch, smiling, and his sword flickered out. “Master, let me deal with them. This fight has been postponed too long.”
As you like, growled Ursus. He turned to the nearby bear-priests, who were uncertainly fingering their scimitars. Leave my mother to me. Don’t interfere. I am a god. I’ll deal with her myself. The bear-priests sat down on their haunches, and watched the two bears with fixed eyes. What now, Mother? asked Ursus quietly.
We fight, said Boulderbash.
Clovermead and Sorrel moved together toward Snuff. Sorrel had his sword out, and Clovermead’s claws lengthened. Snuff looked at the two of them, and shook his head. “Just you, girlie. Fight me one-on-one. Tell the Tansyard to stay on the sidelines.” He grinned, so his teeth shone in burning Chandlefort’s crimson glare. “Keep your sword out, little boy. You can skewer me once she dies. Don’t bother to give me warning.”
“I would rather we fought him together, Clovermead,” said Sorrel. “I will revenge your death, of course, but strangely enough, I would rather you lived.”
“Grant me a duel, Clovermead,” said Snuff. “Let it end this way.” He grinned, teeth still brilliant, but his eyes were weary. “And there are many bear-priests around us. If you bring in reinforcements, so will I.” Two lank-haired bear-priests crept up behind him. They bared their teeth at Clovermead and Sorrel, and fingered the hilts of their scimitars.
I don’t want to fight you, Mother, said Ursus. Now his roar was mixed with wheedling. I love you. I always have.
I know, sighed Boulderbash. You only wish to enslave, to torture, to murder, and I—all you want of me is that I should be your slave or your accomplice. Because you love me. No. I have the strength now to stop you. I won’t leave you free to do more evil.
“Cover my back, Sorrel,” said Clovermead. “Make sure none of those other bear-priests attacks me from behind.”
“I will,” said Sorrel. He kept a wary eye on the bear-priests behind Snuff. He shook his head. “So much fighting. I will be glad when it is over. Have I mentioned that I love you, Clovermead Wickward?”
“Not nearly enough, Sorrel of the Cyan Cross Horde,” said Clovermead. “I love you, too. Have I mentioned that?”
“Much too rarely,” said Sorrel. Their hands gripped each other for a moment, and then Clovermead turned to face Snuff. She grew, turned furry. Her claws and teeth were large. Snuff stepped toward her. His sword danced in the night air.
Fight me and I’ll kill you, Mother, said Ursus. Don’t do this.
I must. Oh, my darling cub, my sweet Ursus, I must. She roared heart-struck grief to the heavens. Then she leaped at Ursus.
Boulderbash fought with terrible fury and speed. Ursus slashed at his mother, but she was inside the reach of his claws before he could properly engage her. His claws slid down her fur, scrabbled at the locket, but could not find purchase on the smooth metal. Boulderbash bit and tore at Ursus—and came out with mouthfuls of shadow, claws full of ebony. She spat them out. With each mouthful and clawful, Ursus’ mantle of darkness frayed and shrank.
Clovermead stalked toward Snuff. She was healed, full-strength, and so was he. She circled the bear-priest warily, and watched his flickering sword. It slashed toward her. Clovermead ducked, and swung her front paw, claws extended. Snuff ducked in turn, and Clovermead lunged forward to bite at his wrist. He sprang away, and his sword grazed her ear as he retreated. Clovermead yelped, and drew back. Snuff laughed—and Clovermead leaped forward. She roared with all her might, Snuff froze for an instant, and his sword came up to defend himself a second too late. Clovermead’s claws ripped down the side of his left leg, as his sword razored through the flesh of her right shoulder. Behind her, Sorrel moaned, and Snuff’s sword jerked back out of her. Snuff and Clovermead fell back from each other, both moaning in pain. They circled each other again. Snuff limped, and Clovermead mewled each time she put weight on her right foreleg.
No! cried Ursus, and he swung his paw hard against his mother. He slammed her fifty feet through the air, and she landed hard against the rubble. He leaped after her, and his claws ripped hard against Boulderbash’s fur. This time he drew blood. Black lightning flickered, and Boulderbash was whole again. Ursus sliced down his mother’s chest with four claws, and for a moment Clovermead could see Boulderbash’s pale ribs behind Snuff’s sword. Black lightning flashed once more, and covered up the white bear’s wounds with healthy bone, flesh, and fur. Ursus crunched down with his jaw on Boulderbash’s right foot. His mother screamed as he mangled her bones—and boxed his ears with all her might. Ursus’ jaw spun away from his mother’s foot, black lightning coruscated in the scarlet night, and she was healed. Ursus whirled to the ground, and Boulderbash dove after him.
Boulderbash allowed Ursus no rest now. Her claws and teeth scythed unceasingly. Shadow fled from him, and he whimpered with fear as he shrank. Now he was barely larger than Boulderbash, and he was only black fur and blood, only mortal. Boulderbash began to wound his flesh. She battered him against the rubble.
Snuff limped forward. His left leg dragged, but his sword was as fast as ever. He made no fancy moves with his body—all his energy was reserved for his sword. Clovermead stopped and waited for him. She gathered her strength, and watched the flickering blade. Snuff leaped! He screamed as he put weight on his left leg, and then he hurtled through the air. Clovermead caught at the blade with her left paw, and she howled as the sword edge bit into her flesh. She couldn’t let it go. She clung to the metal with her claws while the edge dug deeper into her palm, and she and Snuff rolled to the ground. His free hand reached up to gouge her eyes, and she jerked her head away from him. As they rolled, she crunched over him, once, twice. Snuff’s ribs cracked, and he elbowed Clovermead’s throat. She started to choke on her own blood.
For a moment their eyes met. “Sure is a bear of a fight,” Snuff whispered. He chuckled without malice, and Clovermead couldn’t help laughing, a low rumble among her choking. Then they fought again.
Clovermead stabbed down with her free paw, her claws raked down Snuff’s back, and he screamed with pain. He wrenched free his sword from Clovermead’s paw, gouged out a chunk of flesh, and jammed his sword into her ribs. It’ll go to my heart, thought Clovermead—but the angle was wrong, the metal was almost perpendicular to her ribs, and the metal sheared against a bone and bounced off. It took a chip of bone as it went. Clovermead nearly fainted, but she kept hold of a thin thread of consciousness and slammed her paw against Snuff’s chin. Two bronzed teeth rocketed from his mouth, and he flew from Clovermead. As he landed on the ground, his left arm snapped and his right knee crunched against a sharp rock.
Stop, Mother! Ursus cried out. He lay on his back, only a bear, save for the black holes of his eyes. Those hadn’t changed. Have mercy on me. Please, I beg you.
Boulderbash rested for a moment. Ursus’ blood dripped from her mouth. She panted hard. Have you surrendered? she asked. Do you yield yourself to Our Lady?
I do, said Ursus. He bled from a dozen wounds. Please, Mother. Don’t you love me?
Boulderbash roared her sorrow to heaven. I do, Son. You know I do. She stepped back a moment—
Ursus leaped at her. In a second he had batted her to the ground. Help me! he cried out to his bear-priests. Spear her now! The bear-priests were slow to obey. They stared at Boulderbash in fear. I command you! Ursus cried, and now, at last, reluctantly, the first bear-priest lifted his spear—
Sorrel struck the spear down with his sword. The bear-priest’s spear spun to the ground, Sorrel struck the bear-priest’s forehead, and the bear-priest fell onto a heap of rubble. Sorrel turned to the other bear-priests. “I would not try it,” he said. “If I were you, I would go now.”
The bear-priests hesitated. They looked at Ursus with terror and love, at Boulderbash and Sorrel with simple terror—and they cast down their spears and ran.
“Cowards,” said Snuff. “I won’t desert you, Master.” He crawled toward Ursus, toward Boulderbash. His right hand kept a death grip on his sword. Clovermead coughed up blood, and she staggered after Snuff. She couldn’t run anymore—she could hardly walk. Blood dripped from her wounded side, it was hard to breathe, and her shoulder screamed each time she put any weight on her front leg. She caught up with Snuff, he turned one last time and swung with vicious speed, and his sword hissed through Clovermead’s cheek, down her stomach, and deep into her thigh. Tendons snapped, and blood gushed from her leg. She fell forward, and her jaws bit down on Snuff’s sword arm. His arm cracked between her teeth, and her claws sliced into his guts. She tore through his stomach, and she knew she had killed Snuff at last.
Boulderbash howled. She punched back at Ursus, and he fell to the ground. His arms and legs jerked, and still Boulderbash struck. She clawed and bit until his neck cracked.
Ursus lay still.
Mother, he cried in sudden shock. How could you?
Because I love you, she said, and she howled again.
The howling was the only sound in the silent temple. All Chandlefort was a ruin around them, and Ursus lay dying at last while his mother wept in sorrow.
Black water everywhere, said Ursus, and his voice was weaker. No way out. Death. But the moon rides over the earth, spotless. Water never touches her. I saw her reflection in the water, and I knew the way out of my fear. I would rise to the moon on a bridge of bones. That would be my escape. There is no other way. Mother, I’m scared. But Boulderbash had no words for him. She only howled her misery; she could not hear him. Mother! cried Ursus. Give me the caul. It can still save me. Now the blood trickling from his mouth was his own. Say something to me, Mother!
His terror broke through Boulderbash’s misery. For a moment her howls ceased. I’ll be here with you until the end, little Ursus, said Boulderbash. She sat down by the side of her dying son. I’ll ask Our Lady to be merciful to you.
Small comfort, said Ursus. He looked at his mother. I never thought you would do this to me. Not even at the end, with your paw raised over me.
My heart is torn out, said Boulderbash. She howled again, quick and low. Oh, Ursus, I can see your eyes again. They’re just as beautiful as I remembered.
I came so close, said Ursus. His eyes drifted upward. Above the roofless temple the clouds rolled away. Beyond was the clear night sky, and the glowing crescent of the new moon. No greater feat has been done on this earth of yours, Lady.
You are so beautiful, Boulderbash repeated, and then Ursus was dead.
The light faded from Boulderbash. She shrank to mortal size. Now the caul was only a bit of flesh. Boulderbash lowered her head, and the locket and caul on their silver chain fell to the ground by Ursus’ corpse.
The moon shone brighter in the sky. It seemed to Clovermead as if it had always before been obscured in haze and now shone clearly for the first time in her life.
Snuff bubbled laughter, bubbled blood, and Clovermead turned back to look at him. He lay broken on the ground. “Who’d have thought it? The baby I arranged to have stolen turns out to be my bane. There’s poetry in there.” He stared at Clovermead’s furry face. “Turn human, Milady.”
Clovermead’s bear-shape melted from her. She collapsed by Snuff’s side, her clothes in tatters. Sorrel ran to her, and he tore off his shirt as he ran. He knelt by Clovermead and ripped the cloth into bandages for her leg, her stomach, her shoulder, her everything. “Here I am, Snuff,” she said.
Snuff turned his head, spat blood on the ground, and turned to face Clovermead again. “I’ve been a faithful servant to Lord Ursus,” he gasped. “Often defeated, but loyal to the end. Unlike the others. Say that when you speak of me.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then forced them open again. “Leave my body unburied. I don’t have it in me to make a buzzard go hungry.” His eyes were glazing over. “My master is dead?”
“Just now,” said Clovermead.
“Then I can’t betray him any longer.” Snuff shuddered, and made himself focus on Clovermead. “Milady, ask Our Lady to have some mercy on my soul. I won’t abase myself before her, but I’d be glad if someone did.”
“What can I say to her?” whispered Clovermead. “That you were brave? That you were honorable? That you loved Ursus far better than he deserved? None of that matters.” Her voice shook. “Our Lady will say, ‘He’s the same murderer he ever was, the same torturer, and he never repented. How can you speak for him?’ How can I, Snuff?”
“There is no reason you should,” muttered Sorrel. He tied a strip of cloth tightly around Clovermead’s leg. He scowled at the bear-priest. “Better he’d had these thoughts before he had my Horde butchered. What right has Master Cruelty to ask for mercy? Do not trouble yourself for him, Clovermead.”
“The world is better off without me. I know that chorus.” Snuff coughed up more blood. “Tell Our Lady I put your shoulder back in place when we were in that gorge. Kept Boulderbash from killing you then and there. Tell her I gave you a chance to flee from my bear-priests afterward.” His face was gray. “Not two days ago I offered you a peaceful death, Milady. Offered to put an end to your torture.”
Sorrel laughed harshly. “By murder.” He looped a bandage around Clovermead’s arm.
“You have to start somewhere,” said Snuff. The bear-priest looked at Clovermead with desolate eyes. “Please, Milady.”
You have no right to ask me, thought Clovermead. Tears slid down her cheeks. You chose to serve Ursus. Face Our Lady’s judgment alone. It’s no more than you deserve.
Snuff was kind to me. Just a little.
You tell us to be merciful, Lady. You tell us to forgive. Lady, I can still smell the nun he burned. He crucified Sorrel’s mother—I saw the holes in her hands and feet. Clovermead shuddered, and her hands turned to bear-paws. Forgive him? I wish I’d killed him long ago.
Her claws trembled, eager to strike.
Your career freeing bears isn’t over, Ambrosius had said. Your task can’t be finished by the sword.
Your sword broke. Clovermead laughed, low and ugly. I couldn’t rely on it. I finished the job with teeth and claws, Father. Much more satisfying than using dead metal.
There was such fear on Snuff’s face as he waited for the darkness to swallow him forever.
I can’t leave him to die like that, thought Clovermead. Now she wept uncontrollably. Afraid, alone. In darkness. I wish he hadn’t asked me for help, but he has. I know everything Snuff’s done, I can’t forgive him, but I can’t abandon him either. Dear Lady, I can’t.
“All right, Father,” Clovermead whispered. Her paws shrank. She looked up at the moonlit night. Her tears could not stop flowing. “You gave me the power to free bears, Lady,” she said. “I never did enough with it, and now that Ursus is dead, they must be free already. I don’t have much use for the power now. Take it from me and—don’t leave Snuff in darkness. There’s a little kindness left in him. Whatever he deserves from you, I ask you to treat him better.”
A cool breeze blew from the west. Inside, Clovermead felt light vanish from her. Gentle moonlight fell on Snuff’s face. The features of the boy he had been glimmered in the man.
Welcome back, Lucifer, Our Lady whispered in the night. I have missed you so.
“I hear you, Lady,” said Snuff. “Thank you, Clovermead.” He grinned, and the moonlight shone from his bronzed teeth. “We nearly beat you, Master and I.” Then his eyes closed a last time. His chest ceased to move. As he lay in the ruins of the temple, more blood spilled from him, but the bear-priest was dead at last.
Clovermead made the crescent sign over Lucifer’s corpse.
It’s over, Clovermead said to herself. We’ve won. Boulderbash was howling. Some victory, thought Clovermead. Is this the way it had to end, Lady? Was there no better way than this? She could not stop crying, for her mother and for Chandlefort, for all the slain.
“I would not have done that,” said Sorrel. He began to bandage Clovermead’s stomach. “What will his victims say when Our Lady ushers him into her city?”
Poor Ursus, crooned Boulderbash. You’ve gotten so dirty. Haven’t you learned yet how to keep your coat clean? She wept over his black fur. I’m sorry, little one. I should have taught you better. I am so sorry.
The white bear began to lick the blood from her dead child’s coat.