The Bird and the Wyrm

Melody and Misha were nearly at the base of the tree now with Bran just behind them, slashing the creatures as they attacked. Apart from the ones that were climbing, the rest were now either trying to attack Bran or dead and disintegrating.

Below Coral, Melody held out her arms. "Jump!" she shouted again.

Short, naughty, short-sighted Melody, the little girl who always came last in races and gave up the earliest in marathons was now the one saving Coral. It was foolish, it was crazy.

Coral let go of the tree and dropped, reaching out her hands to her friend.

Her love.

Coral’s lips met Melody’s and for a moment it seemed like time stopped.

She was cold, dreadfully cold, but it was warm where they met, and she leaned into it. The stress, the worry, the fear, all of it drained out of her.

Then she went limp, falling into Melody’s arms.

"Coral!" Melody gasped, face red, but the girl was out cold.

Around them the grey, oozing beasts also went limp then fell apart, becoming one with the ground.

Was it over? Had they succeeded?