Elton saw it happen. The connection to the Everywhen had been cut. Delores was gone. The Sending was gone. He dropped his phone, staggered into the main chamber of the castle, and dropped to his knees. He looked over and there was Terry, rising to his own knees. The former Errant stared, looking completely lost. Elton watched as Terry began looking around in a panic, flexing his fingers.

  “She. . .” Terry whispered. Then his expression firmed. “I can go after her.”

  Elton did not have the heart to tell him. He wasn’t sure he could talk right then. It was a testament to Terry’s strength that he was already thinking of rescue missions that couldn’t happen.

  The strange priest walked in with the only surviving knight. Elton had no idea who this man was, but Terry seemed to know him.

  “Takewell,” Terry said when he saw the man. “I need you to reopen it.”

  “I don’t know how, Mr. Lingal. It is a thing of the elves and the agents of our enemies.”

  Terry nodded.

  “Then I need elves.”

  “They won’t do it.” Elton said. Jesus. He sounded terrible to his own ears. Hollow. “Or if they do it’ll be months to get permission.”

  “I don’t know if she has months, Elton.”

  And there it was. Elton was about to destroy his best friend.

  “It’s probably already BEEN months for her, Terry.”

  Terry just stared at him. It was so quiet Elton could almost hear the walls settling.

  “Your bard is right, Mr. Lingal. The wide world and the Everywhen? Time moves differently in both. They sync up when a portal is opened between the two, but once the link is broken, time begins flying wildly in the Everywhen.” The priest didn’t look very sad about it. Or happy. Or anything for that matter.

  Terry stood and walked to the center of the chamber. He stared at the burned circle in the wooden planks.

  “What are you two saying? That. . . That she’s dead or something? They’ve already killed her?”

  “No, Mr. Lingal. I’m saying that she is a capable woman. She may well be alive, but the more time that passes here, even more time passes there. It could be months now for her. Maybe years.”

  Terry stared at the priest.

  “I swore I’d come back to her.” Terry whispered. He sounded like a little kid. Elton found himself crying. This wasn’t fair.

  “Mr. Lingal,” the priest, Takewell, said, “I know you’re coping with a loss, but I’ve come to protect you. Jack in the Leaves. . . There’s too much to explain. Your sword. Our enemy wants your sword.” Terry looked at it in his hand. He seemed to have forgotten it.

  Elton glanced over as a depressed looking Thunder rolled up beside him. He put a hand on it's seat, and the scooter seemed to lean into him for emotional support. He’d felt the scooter was a silly thing, but right then, Elton needed something. He laid his head on the seat and quietly wept.

  “Why does he want it?” Terry asked. God he sounded empty.

  “We don’t know specifics,” Elton heard Takewell say, “but we discovered his plan is to unmake reality. The lie you were told about the Greenman. Alex is attempting to go into hiding now. He says I’m to find you and your party, protect you, and bring you to him so we can make plans.”

  Elton looked up. Terry looked at the sword in his hands as if seeing it for the first time. It had always just been his father's sword.

  “He can have it.” Terry said.

  “MISTER LINGAL!” Takewell shouted. “This is all of reality! All of humanity!”

  Terry looked up and there was rage there.

  “Then you can have it.” Terry said. Elton shivered. “He wants it? Fine! You want it? Fine!” Terry threw the sword to the ground.

  “But-” Takewell began, but Terry stopped him short.

  “Is this a punishment?" Terry shouted at the roof. "Is that what this is? Is this what happens when I’m happy? When I stray from the path someone else helped put me on, and I try to be something more?”

  He looked around the room and grew angrier. He started yelling at the walls, and Elton realized he was screaming at the vines. At the Voice.

  “AND YOU!!” Terry screamed. “You and your guidance and your advice and your prodding! YOU put me here! YOU put HER here! This is because I abandoned my vows, isn’t it! You all wanted this!”

  Terry dropped to his knees. He was in the center of the burned circle, facing the main stairway. He shook. Elton stood and slowly walked around him. Terry screamed again.

  “GOD DAMN YOU!” He shouted to the ceiling. “You put me here to lose her.” It came out as a broken croak.

  The sword blade on the ground by him began to glow. Elton had never seen it do that away from Terry’s hand.

  “Terry?” Elton said, and when Terry looked he saw the sword.

  “Oh NOW you want to do something?” He said, his voice going hoarse. “Now that it’s too late and it’s all over?”

  “Terry? What do you want me to do?” Elton asked. He felt helpless.

  Terry lifted his sword and looked at Elton. The bard didn’t think he’d ever been so frightened FOR someone in his life.

  “I kept one vow, Elton. For her. Everything was for her. And now I can't hold to that vow.” The tears began pouring, his rage spent for the moment. “I don’t know what to do. I know I'm suppose to help people, but what's the point if I don't have Delores?”

  As if burdened by the weight of the world, Terry stood and walked to one of the walls of the main hall. Right between two wood pillars and above the wainscoting, Terry plunged his glowing sword into the wall at his own eye level and left it there. He turned to Takewell.

  “I’m done. You can have it. I don’t care any more.” He said.

  “Mr. Lingal, Terry, please. We need you AND the sword. Jack would devour you."

  "Maybe," Terry paused to swallow, "maybe that would be for the best now." He said it so quietly. Takewell stared at him. Elton wanted to cry all over again.

  "We know you’re a wizard, Mr. Lingal. We ALL know you're a magic user. No one will do anything to you over it. I promise. Just please come with me.”

  As Takewell begged, and Terry told him in his own Terry to way fuck right off, Elton walked up to the sword. He couldn't stop staring. It was a symbol of the end of everything good he'd come to know. Just stabbed into the wall. Something was going on, though. The wall shouldn’t be glowing around the the blade, should it?

  Elton got right against the wall and looked at the glow. His eyes widened. He looked behind the glow. There was a gap between the blade and the wall. It wasn't IN the wall. He reached up and touched the hilt. He wiggled it. He couldn't move it, but it wiggled.

  Elton ran and slammed into Terry, grabbing him by the arms.

  “Terry, cut the wall.” He said.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Terry just stared at him looking dead inside. Elton didn’t have time for this.

  “YOU HICK SON OF A BITCH, I AM TELLING YOU TO CUT THE GOD DAMNED WALL.”

  Anger. A cleansing fire to burn the mental brambles. Right then Elton didn’t care if Terry punched him in the face, as long as he cut that damned wall.

  “Fine.” Terry said coldly. He marched back up to his sword and grabbed the hilt.

  “Here’s your cut wall, for all the good it will do you. I hope it’s my last act on this Earth.”

  He pulled it straight down to the floor. It moved easily. Far too easily. Elton stared as a bright slice of white light trailed from where it began, down to the floor. Terry looked, and suddenly the white line expanded. It ripped open a space in the air between the two wooden pillars, and on the other side was something impossible.

  Beyond the shimmering, rectangular hole in the air, there was another place. The sky was yellow. The foliage was greener than anything Elton had ever seen. A mountain pitted with holes and covered with geometric shaped boulders stood in the distance, surrounded by steam. A warm, spring breeze blew through and cut the chill.

  Terry staggered back from the hole he’d made.

  “What is this?” He said, his anger and sadness momentarily forgotten.

  “It’s impossible, is what it is.” Takewell replied. “You can not open a portal like this. Since the Sin and the Sundering, they say that only the elves can do something like this. Only the Plague Doctors can do something like this. And not EVEN this! A two way portal can’t be.” The priest backed away but slipped on some leaves on the wooden floor and fell on his butt. "There are fundamental rules that forbid this from existing to protect the Everywhen."

  Elton stood there, cheeks still stained with tears, and he started laughing. Terry turned to look at him. Elton thought he was going to lose his mind. He thought he knew what had happened, though. Magically, it made no sense. Everything in the universe said this shouldn’t happen. But that had never once been something to stop Terry Lingal. The impossible always happened in a good story. Not when a hero was involved.

  “Terry,” Elton said, his laughter finally under control, “I’m going to tell you something Delores never explained about magic.”

  Terry looked guilty suddenly. Him and his depression and his anger issues.

  "Elton, I'm. . ."

  “Stop it, damn it. I got you mad on purpose. Keep your noble mouth shut and listen to me.” Elton said. He continued his earlier thought. “Magic is just Will imposed on reality. Everyone has some magic ability in them or no spells would work. Even your friend George. Baseline for humans is never zero. If it was, we wouldn’t be alive. It's called Everyday Magic. It's the one kind I was able to learn as a Troubadour in college. All magic words and rituals do is subtly alter your mind to where you can make the changes you want. Magic has to change YOU so you can change the world.”

  Terry nodded. Good. He could be a bright boy sometimes. Elton hoped he was bright enough to do what he was going to tell him to. He ran his hands through his hair.

  “But you’re different, Terry. Delores called your power terrifying and I know what she means. You don’t need words and rituals and sigils. And that’s what just happened here. This is your Will made real. This is a change from your Will alone.”

  “But you both said there was no way to do this.” Terry said, gesturing at the gateway. Elton walked up to his friend. He didn’t want to do what he was going to do. He didn’t want things to change. But stories must be told.

  “You and me,” Elton said, “are very similar. Our lives have been loss, and loneliness, and pain. And we’ve both tried to pull ourselves together afterwards with different degrees of success.”

  Elton felt tears again. He couldn’t help it.

  “The difference between us though, Terry? When the worst thing I could imagine happened, I had to pick up a bottle and I crawled inside. When it happened to you?" Elton didn't know if he should laugh or sob. "The universe bent over backwards and broke it’s own rules because it couldn’t stand to see you hurt any more.”

  No one said anything for a long while. The only sound was Thunder rolling up next to Elton. He put a hand on the scooter’s headlight.

  “What does it mean?” Terry asked, looking over his shoulder at the portal and the strange world beyond.

  “It means I have no idea what you really are, my friend. But it also means that the world couldn’t see you break your last vow. You need to go to her. You need to go find Delores.”

  Terry looked back around to Elton.

  “Take me with you.” Takewell said. He sounded frantic. Terry and Elton both looked at the priest in surprise.

  “No!” Terry said. “No offense, Steven, but as much as I appreciate the help, I don’t trust you. I don’t know that I can trust anyone from the Order.”

  He looked at Elton.

  “Come with me, Elton.”

  Elton rubbed his eyes.

  “I can’t. I’m terrified of going. And I’d rather stay here and imagine you found her, and you two ended up happy together. Even if I never see you again. I can’t watch you stay here and destroy yourself without her. I'll stay here and guide the public narrative. Now, go find our friend.”

  Terry embraced Elton tightly.

  “I haven't had a lot of friends, and I never had a best friend, Elton. I’m sorry I wasn’t better at it.”

  Elton patted his back.

  “Yeah, I’m not too good at this thing either.”

  Terry stepped back. He looked resolved.

  “Are you taking Thunder?” Elton asked. The scooter looked up hopefully. Terry knelt down.

  “I don’t think there’s any gas stations over there, buddy.” Terry scratched Thunder’s headlight and his handlebars drooped. “Elton is going to take care of you for me. And you take care of him.”

  The headlight nodded. So did Elton.

  Elton heard Terry whisper a tiny “I love you” to the scooter before standing and unstrapping his saddle bags from the back. He looked at Elton again.

  “I love you, Elton. You’re a good man. I don’t care what you say about yourself.”

  Elton choked down a sob.

  “And what are you now, Lingal?” Takewell said, finally standing. He looked angry. It was the first emotion besides shock Elton had seen on his face. “Without the vows to guide the Order, what are you now? A mercinary?!” Terry looked at him, then at Elton. Instead of answering Takewell, he spoke to Elton.

  “Elton, I need one more favor from you. One last act as my bard. I want you to record something.”

  Elton ran to his dropped phone and came back with it. He started recording.

  Terry lifted his sword carefully, but the portal stayed open. He placed the hilt to his chest, sword blade pointing down.

  “You want vows, Takewell? Well these are MY vows. They’re the last ones I will ever swear.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head. He spoke in a clear, strong voice.

  “I, Terrance Lingal, vow to help the less fortunate. I swear to protect those who need protection. I promise to defend the defenseless. I vow to stand against tyranny and oppression. I vow to protect life, including my own. I vow that the only voice that can ever tell me what to do again is my own heart, because it is the only thing that has never steered me wrong.”

  A strong breeze burst through the portal causing Terry's coat to flap. It blew Elton’s hair back as he finished. The moment had a feeling of importance suddenly.

  Terry lowered his sword and looked at Takewell.

  “If someone needs vows to stop themselves from hurting people, then they have no business being a knight in the first place. They're the kind of person I'm here to stand against.”

  The priest stared at him, mouth agape.

  “What are you now if not a knight or a member of the Order? What do we call you now?” Takewell asked.

  “Elton gave the title. He made it more than a rank. It’s the only thing that ever truly fit me and it's as far as I ever needed to go in your Order. The Errant Apprentice." Terry paused as a thought struck him. "And it doesn’t get more Errant than running away after a girl.”

  Elton smiled sadly. At least Terry had given him an ending.

  “Stay safe, Elton.” Terry said to him. He turned to Takewell.

  “You and your brother need to leave the Order. Because if I ever step foot in the wide world again, I am tearing the Order of Saint George down myself.”

  Terry stepped through the portal, and turned to look back at Elton one last time. He smiled. It was the smile of a young man who finally knew what he was about. Then the portal winked out, leaving Elton standing there with Thunder and two men he didn’t know.

  But that was ok.

  Elton was used to loneliness. . .

  Jack in the Leaves had three men helping him up from the floor this time. He was in the office of Father Alex Takewell. The man had gone missing that morning and Jack had assumed direct control of the Order of St. George. BOTH the Takewells were missing. Then it had happened.

  Raw, unadulterated mana had coursed through the web and revitalized him so quickly, and so suddenly, that he’d fallen down. It lasted for several minutes. It could only mean one thing. A gate had opened and fed the world for a few precious moments with pure mana. It lacked the muted nature of mana in the wide world. It was vibrant. It was full of life and color and need. There was only one way that could have happened. His sword.

  “My lord,” Conti said coming around to stand in front of him, “this is twice now. Are you alright? What’s happened to you?”

  Jack looked down at himself and stared. He was in bloom. Tiny flowers sprouted from between the vines that made up his limbs. His wooden armor was a deep, dark wood now and had small branches at the edges. Leaves grew on them. He looked at his hands and the mycelia that made up his skin looked moist. He felt lush.

  “The Everywhen was open for a moment, Conti.” He said, a touch breathlessly. “I was connected with home for a moment as the webs touched again.”

  “Do you think he’s used the sword?” Conti asked.

  “He had to have.” Jack walked around behind the desk and gingerly sat in another man’s seat. He began looking through drawers.

  “What does it mean?” Conti asked.

  “If he’s gone TO the Everywhen,” Jack said, his voice suddenly losing all of its rasp, “then the sword is out of my hands. We must send a message for him to be intercepted.”

  He stopped searching.

  “That sword is the only thing that would allow me to go home, and then climb to the One.”

  Conti nodded.

  “Yes, my lord. I understand something has stirred things in Tir-Na-Nog. Should we move on that front as well while we can communicate?”

  Jack thought about that. He drummed his fingers on the desk. The thing was covered in paperwork. It would take days to sort and understand it all.

  “Yes.” He finally said. “It pains me to destroy my former home, but I want it razed to the ground. I can’t risk them regaining any form of authority.”

  Jack froze as another pulse of energy hit the mana web. This time Jack was sitting and he rode it out. He felt his face and the mask he wore to cover his missing eye, and small branches emerged from his forehead, already loaded with sprouting leaves. He felt nearly whole by the time the pulse ended.

  Conti stared at him.

  “My lord?” he asked.

  “Conti,” Jack said, “I have no idea what just happened but I think someone else has opened a gateway. I want that person found and brought here yesterday.”

  Conti bowed and began making arrangements.