The Gate to the Abyss, excerpt

 Excerpt from The Gate to the Abyss

Luthiya fell against the battlement door, shoved it open, and stumbled outside. Then she scrambled back and heaved the door closed. It slammed into the door frame like thunder. A towering chunk of rib bone leaned against the wall. She jumped, grabbed the top of it, and tugged it down in front of the door. Then she put her back against it and dug her feet into the rough floor.

The first wight struck the door like an earthquake. Luthiya shrieked and pushed herself back up, giving herself as much leverage as she could. They hammered again and again. Her teeth cracked against each other. The massive bone fragment budged half a centimeter with each strike. I can't do this, she thought. Please, Khapah, get everyone out before it's too late.

"The water wasn't enough for them, was it?"

Luthiya jumped; the voice seemed to come from the sky itself. She looked all around until she saw Ama standing on the other side of the parapet.

Luthiya gasped. "How did you get here?"

"All the water in the world wouldn't be enough for them." Ama held one hand out, palm up, with the urlimnion floating above it. The small orb glowed as brightly as the wights did now, almost frantic in its back-and-forth rotations. "Even your kin aren't enough." Ama crossed her other arm over her chest, looking down to the bottom of the tower. "They want you."

"Why?!" It had bothered Luthiya since she'd first seen the wights. The monsters would occasionally notice the water or Khapah or Jio, but they always, always returned to watch her.

Ama rose up into the air. She was standing on the shield she'd taken from the chantry, some kind of levitation device. "I don't know." She glowered. "Water is for them like it is for our bodies: necessary, but insufficient for real strength. They crave meat. Life. But why yours specifically? I cannot imagine."

The wights continued battering at the door. The bone fragment scraped forward two more centimeters. Luthiya's feet scrabbled over the petrified floor as she tried, desperately, to push it back.

"Your people are fleeing. West, toward the Charred Pass."

A surge of hope swelled in Luthiya's chest. It had worked. The wights wouldn't leave Ossiphagan. The Shue were free.

Ama's lip curled up in a quiet snarl.

She doesn't want us to survive. Luthiya shoved the fragment back against the door. Her legs grew weaker with each strike. It wouldn't be long before the wights broke through. "Why do you hate us?" she asked.

"Ha! I don't hate you. What a waste of effort that would be, like hating salamanders or a flea."

"Then let them go! The wights will have me. That's what they want. You said it yourself."

"I worry it won't be enough." Ama sighed deeply. "I suppose I could lead some other group here, now that I know of the wights." She touched her forehead and muttered to herself, "But would that count as betrayal? Greater good, perhaps? Gods, this tide is abstruse."

Luthiya growled. "What's not enough? What could be more important than saving people's lives?"

"This," she said, lifting the urlimnion as though it were obvious. Then she laughed. "Of course you can't understand. Like my body, the urlimnion is tuned to acts of charity and compassion. Helping your people wasn't enough—I suspect because the Shue are beyond help. But the moment I gave that boy to the wights, the urlimnion awoke."

"You gave him?" A sickening pit grew in Luthiya's stomach.

Ama murmured to herself again, "That betrayal didn't count. Perhaps I could—"

"You gave Jio?" Luthiya shouted, rage bubbling up from the pit of her stomach.

Ama stopped, looking at Luthiya in surprise that shifted quickly into something like pity.

The tears forced their way out, then. Luthiya's breaths became heavy, uncontrollable. The bone fragment slipped ten centimeters at once, a yellow glow spilling out of the doorway. And Luthiya realized something else: Jio was an accident. She meant to give them me.

"I think I will spare you," Ama said. "Let's see what effect that has."

"No." Luthiya shook her head. "Sparing" would only mean death for the others. "Let them take me. Leave the Shue alone."

"Actually, I must spare you, otherwise this life will have been wasted." She casually traced a pattern in the air with her free hand, a faint light trailing from her fingers. When she finished, the pounding behind Luthiya stopped; the glow from the door was gone. "Unless consuming all the Shue isn't enough, of course. Then I'll have to let them take you as well, just to be sure." She gave Luthiya a wan smile, then turned on her floating shield and began descending toward the earth.