But beyond a doubt, this world is real. Not only that, but it's mine - just like the man dying before my eyes.
"Go to your father, boy," the Red Knight orders Westley. He pushes me over with little ceremony.
"Oh, father," Westley says, the raw note in his tone telling me his father is worse off.
"Alive or dead?" the Red Knight demands.
"M'lord," my squire interjects tentatively from a dozen feet away.
"Quiet, squire! Brown Sun, is he alive or dead?"
"Dead," is the whispered response.
My heart is too heavy to ache for the boy who just lost his father. I can only think of everything I've spent a lifetime missing, of a man who finds me and all my faults beautiful and whose heart is larger than his kingdom.
Atreyu will never see the blue sky or sit on the emerald hills overlooking the ocean. He'll never know true peace or see a thousand years of suffering end. I would give anything for him to know that joy, even if it meant I returned to my own world, never to experience his touch, kiss, skin, scent. My whole life has been treading water until Black Moon Draw and its Shadow Knight.
The fleeting thoughts pierce me through the heart and I double over, mental agony turning physical.
Get a hold of yourself! I shout internally. If I give up now, I'll definitely never save him. I need to keep trying, to bind his wounds and pray. Last night, he, too, had given up, only to find a reason to fight today. I can do no less, no matter what the personal cost or how much it hurts.
The Red Knight sits back on his heels. "I cannot help him, witch," he says softly. "Have you any magic at all?"
I shake my head, trembling too hard to speak.
"Boy, come!"
Westley stands slowly, eyes lingering on his father, his sorrow clear. He joins us and squats outside the reach of the puddle of blood.
"He lives. Mayhap we can still counter the curse." The Red Knight removes a dagger from his belt and places it on the torso of the Shadow Knight. "By the blood of my line and the rivers of my kingdom, I pledge my loyalty and fealty to the Shadow Knight of Black Moon Draw." With a bow of his head, he leans back, leaving the knife in place.
Westley's hands quake. He mirrors the movements of the Red Knight, his words barely audible.
"M'lord," the squire tries again.
The Shadow Knight breathing stops. "Oh, god!" I push past the Red Knight.