I'd stuck at my post...

Odnośniki

Smutek to uczucie, jak gdyby się tonęło, jak gdyby grzebano cię w ziemi.

The lord of the castle tried to get past me. I removed a chunk of his calf. It tasted human, too, sort of. He retreated, into the shadow chaos of his appalled followers. Through their din I followed his screams: "I shall have revenge for this! I shall unleash a secret weapon! Let the House be destroyed! Our pride demands satisfaction! My patience is exhausted!"
I braced myself for a fresh combat. For a minute, I almost got one. But the baron managed to control his horde; the haranguing voice overrode theirs. As Ginny said, he couldn't afford more futile casualties.
I thought, as well as a wolf can: Good thing he doesn't know they might not have been futile this time.
For Ginny could not have aided me. After the briefest possible enfolding of her daughter, she'd given the kid to Svartalf. The familiar—and no doubt the mathematician—busied himself with dances, pounces, patty‑cake and wurrawurra, to keep her out of her mother's hair. I heard the delighted laughter, like silver bells and springtime rain. But I heard, likewise, Ginny's incantation.
She must have about five unbroken minutes to establish initial contact with home, before she could stop and rest. Then she'd need an additional period to determine the precise configuration of vectors and gather the required paranatural energies. And then we'd go!
It clamored in the dark. An occasional missile flew at me, for no reason except hatred. I stood in the door and wondered if we had time.
A rumbling went through the air. The ground shuddered underfoot. The devils keened among shadows. I heard them retreating. Fear gripped me by the gullet. I have never done anything harder than to keep that guardian post.
The castle groaned at its foundations. Dislodged blocks slid from the battlements and crashed. Flamelight flickered out of cracks opened in gates and shutters. Smoke tried to strangle me. It passed, and was followed by the smell of ancient mold.
" . . . in nomine Potestatis, fiat janua . . ." the witch's hurried verses ran at my back.
The giant upheaved himself.
Higher he stood than the highest spire of this stronghold beside which he had lain buried. The blackness of him blotted out the stars of hell. His tottering feet knocked a curtain wall down in a grinding roar; dust whirled up, earthquake ran. Nearly as loud was the rain of dirt, mud, gravel from the wrinkled skin. Fungi grew there, pallidly phosphorescent, and worms dripped from his eye sockets. The corruption of him seized the breath. The heat of his decay smoldered and radiated. He was dead; but the power of the demon was in him.
". . . saeculi aeternitatis. " Ginny had kept going till she could pause without danger to the spell. She was that kind of girl. But now she came to kneel by me. "Oh, darling," she wept, "we almost won through!"
I fumbled at my flash. The giant wove his head from side to side as if he still had vision. The faceless visage came to a stop, pointed our way. I shoved the switch and underwent the Skin‑turning back to human. The giant raised a foot. He who operated him was trying to minimize damage to the castle. Slowly, carefully, he set it down inside the fortifications.
I held my girl to me. My other girl laughed and romped with the cat. Why trouble them? "We've no chance?"
"I . . . no time . . . first‑stage field ready, b‑b‑but flesh can't cross before I . . . complete—I love you, I love you."
I reached for Decatur's sword where it gleamed in the Handlight. We've come to the end of creation, I thought, and we'll die here. Let's go out fighting. Maybe our souls can escape.
Souls!
I grabbed Ginny by the shoulder and thrust her back to look at. "We can send for help," burst from me. "Not mortals, and angels're forbidden, but, but you do have contact established and . . . the energy state of this universe—it doesn't take a lot to—There's bound to be many c‑creatures, not of Heaven but still no friends of hell—"
Her eyes kindled. She sprang erect, seized wand and sword, swung them aloft and shouted.
The giant stepped into our courtyard. The crippled devils gibbered their terror, those he did not crush underfoot. His fingers closed around the tower.
I couldn't tell what language Ginny's formula was in, but she ended her cry in English: "Ye who knew man and were enemies of Chaos, by the mana of the signs we bear I call on you and tell you that the way from earth stands open!"
The chapel rocked. Stones fell, inside and outside. The tower came off. It broke apart in the giant's clutch, a torrent that buried the last of hell's wounded. We looked into lightless constellations. The giant groped to scoop us out.
Our rescuers arrived.
I don't know who or what they were. Perhaps their looks were illusion. I'll admit that the quarters of the compass were from which they came, because these are nonsense in hell. Perhaps what answered Ginny's call was simply a group of beings, from our universe or yet another, who were glad of a chance to raid the realm of the Adversary that is theirs too. She had built a bridge that was, as yet, too frail to bear mortal bodies. However, as I'd guessed, the entropy of the Low Continuum made paranatural forces able to accomplish what was impossible elsewhere.
Explain it as you like. This is what I saw—