Down a Lost Road (22 page)

I pulled away from him, scuttling back three
feet and trying vainly to stand up.

“
Yatol, where’s
Damian?”

I didn’t wait to hear his answer. Shouting
Damian’s name, I managed to gain my feet and staggered forward
half-blind. I couldn’t choke back the racking sobs. A fragrant tree
tendril brushed my cheek but I batted it away and stumbled on
through a maze of trees. I didn’t know where I was heading, but it
didn’t matter. All that mattered was Damian. I had to find him.

Almost too late my blurred vision focused on
a burnished spearhead, poking through the gossamer not a foot from
my face. I reeled back and felt a hand clamp on my shoulder. A
scream rose in my throat but another coarse hand pressed over my
mouth.

“
Be quiet,
girl!”

I stood statue-still, hands shaking. I
couldn’t see anyone, not the man with the spear, certainly not the
one close behind me, holding me painfully tight. After a moment the
brush parted and a hooded figure stepped out, still leveling the
spear’s point at my neck. He tugged back his hood, revealing a head
of fiery red hair and glinting dark eyes staring suspiciously at
me. I could have sworn the tip of the spear was only a few inches
from my neck. He had it pointed straight at the vein that I’m sure
was pulsing visibly, my heart was beating that hard.

“
Hold her,” he said through
clenched teeth. He took one step closer, but the spear stayed where
it was. “Are you true?”

“
What?” I
gasped.

“
She doesn’t know,” said
the man behind me. “She’s one of theirs.”

That didn’t sound good. “One of whose? Let
me go!”

“
Lohka!”

Thank God
. I watched in relief as
Yatol emerged from the shadows. He swiped the spear away and then
leveled such a furious glare at the other man that he snatched both
hands away from me as if I’d suddenly caught fire.

“
Yatol! What are you
doing?” Lohka gasped, shifting the spear. “She’s one of
theirs!”

“
You know him?” I cried, at
the exact moment the other man said, “Do you know who this
is?”

“
Do you?” Yatol reached out
to me, and I stumbled into his arms. “This is Davhur’s daughter.
Take us to the camp. We need to speak to Syarat. Tyhlaur and I just
encountered the Ungulion host.”

From the safety of Yatol’s arms I peered at
the second man, a roughened older soldier with a graying beard and
two twisting scars snaking down his arms. He didn’t carry any
weapons that I could see, but he had huge, strong hands. My bruised
shoulder would prove that, I could tell already. It still felt like
an iron weight was digging into it.

“
Encountered them?” he
said. “And you survived?”

He exchanged a glance with Lohka, who
frowned and said, “How do we know you didn’t give
them
information?”

“
What?” Yatol and I both
cried at the same time.

I glanced up at Yatol, saw the pain and
confusion in his eyes.

“
Yatol, let’s go. We have
to find Damian. Please.”

I couldn’t think of anything else to say
without the tears coming. Yatol didn’t answer. His hand released my
shoulder, and he took a couple of steps toward the men. They beat a
hasty two-step retreat, restoring the distance between them and
him.

“
What’s wrong with you
two?” Yatol said, lifting his hands. “Verin?”

“
I can smell them on her.
Death. Ungulion.”

My face went cold, and my stomach churned. I
smelled
like them?

Some strange low trill sounded farther into
the trees, but it didn’t register until Lohka stepped suddenly
aside with an expectant glance over his shoulders. In a moment the
gossamer veil swung aside and two more men materialized out of the
shadows, both armed. Before I realized what had happened, Yatol and
I were surrounded. I stared around at them, disbelieving.

“
What’s the matter with you
all? Did you forget who the enemy is?”

“
Did you?” Lohka asked,
leveling the spear at my neck again.

I was so angry I forgot to be afraid. “Get
that thing
away
from my throat!” I cried, batting it aside.
“My brother is out there! He’s probably –”

I choked on the words. All the fire and fury
died, and I dropped my hands, cold, shaking. My eyes flitted from
one man to the next, never really seeing any of them. I could only
see Damian. My vision swam, my lungs closed. I couldn’t even sob,
couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t talk.
God, please let him be
okay
.

I turned to Yatol, met his gaze. Why didn’t
he say anything? Why did he just stand there, staring at me like
that?

“
What is this madness?”
Enhyla cried, appearing through the trees, Tyhlaur and Kurtis close
behind. “Put away your weapons, all of you!”

“
Why should we listen to
you?” Verin said.

I broke out of my fog with a gasp of horror.
Did he just say that? To
Enhyla
, the Lord Master?

“
You spend too much time in
the outer reaches, Enhyla,” he went on. “Too close to the Void.
Maybe it’s gone to your head.”

I almost threw myself at him in fury, but
Yatol beat me to it. He moved too quickly for me to see, too
quickly for any of the others to stop him. Two steps and three
quick blows, and suddenly Verin collapsed to the ground with a
sickening crack. I didn’t even see what Yatol had done, but somehow
he had gotten Lohka’s spear and now stood over Verin, one foot on
his chest and the spear tip pressed under his chin. Verin’s lower
leg twisted to the side at an unnatural angle, and sweat poured
over his grimacing face. I stared in horror, transfixed.

“
Who are you calling a
traitor, Verin?” Yatol gritted. “Enhyla and the outer watch risk
everything day by day to keep you safe at night, and you call
him
a traitor?”

“
Get off me,
Yatol.”

“
Yatol...” Enhyla began,
stepping toward him, but one of the newcomers leveled his spear at
him, halting him.

“
You’re all crazy!” I
shouted. “You’re crazy! Don’t you know what’s going on? Don’t you
have any idea?”

I glanced back at Tyhlaur. He just stood
there watching the whole scene, frozen. I wanted to strangle him.
Didn’t he care? But then I realized it wasn’t apathy at all that
kept him paralyzed beside Kurtis. The fear shone in his wide eyes,
too plain to mistake. Fear, even guilt. Guilt? I stared around at
the men, the deep suspicion in their eyes burning hatred at me.

“
Are
you
true? Any
of you?” I found myself face to face with Lohka. I didn’t even
realize I had gone over to him. “Are you?”

“
You’re none of my people,”
Lohka hissed. “I don’t know you.”

I glanced across at Yatol, still pinning
Verin to the ground, then at Enhyla, poised at spear’s end
nearby.

“
What about Tyhlaur? You
know him, I’m sure.”

Tyhlaur gave an audible gasp of surprise,
then all at once he was behind me, jerking me away from Lohka.

“
Are you accusing me of
something?”

Someone shouted something, then two strong
hands reached between us and dragged Tyhlaur away from me. Kurtis.
It took me a moment for his words to translate in my mind – “Get
your hands off her!”

“
Tyhlaur?” Yatol called,
warningly. “What have you done?”

Tyhlaur stood stricken, staring at his
brother wide-eyed in anguish. His gaze shifted, falling on the
three men surrounding us, then finally on me, before it wrenched
back to Yatol. He stumbled a step, then suddenly he spun on one of
the men, grabbing his spear and twisting it out of his grasp.
Kurtis jumped in front of me, but Tyhlaur didn’t aim the weapon at
any of us. He shifted it around, pointing it at Lohka.

The three men clustered together, as if on
cue, all of them weaponless. Somehow Enhyla had stolen the spear
from the last attacker without anyone’s notice. He didn’t point it
at anyone, though, just stood leaning on the haft like it was a
walking stick.

“
Lohka, where is Master
Syarat?” he asked, quietly.

“
How should I
know?”

“
What’s going on?” Kurtis
whispered to me. “Where is Damian?”

I covered my mouth to stifle the sob. When
I’d recovered my breath I said, “These men are accusing Yatol and
Enhyla of being traitors. Tyhlaur knows them somehow. I thought
maybe he would side with them, but I don’t think he will.”

That was all I could say. I clamped my mouth
shut, forcing a steady breath, staring fixedly at the cluster of
men in front of us. Kurtis put a hand on my shoulder.

“
Merelin? Where’s
Damian?”

Don’t think it. Don’t.
I backed away
from him, two steps, three. “He’s gone!” I screamed. “Don’t you
understand? They took him! Why doesn’t anyone understand?”

I sank onto the ground, wrapping my arms
around my head. Memories from the Gorhiem Bolstoed flooded my mind.
The stench. The blackness. Azik.
Oh God…

“
Where is Syarat?” Yatol,
threatening.

“
In the camp, where else?
That way.”

“
Take us.”

“
No.”

A howl of pain, agonizing. I jerked my gaze
up in time to see Yatol with his heel pressed against Verin’s
twisted knee. His face, so angry. My stomach flipped.

“
Take us.”

“
We’re not exactly welcome
there,” Verin muttered, hostile.

A low harsh laugh escaped Yatol’s lips. “And
you questioned our honor.”

“
They’re failing. You are
all failing!” Lohka cried, but Tyhlaur jabbed the spear at him and
his hands shot up protectively. “We’re not the only ones who think
so. There’s a whole movement rising up in Alcalon.”

“
At a time like this?”
Yatol said, but his gaze was fixed on Tyhlaur. “The Ungulion are
even now marching to lay siege to the city, and you thought it
would be a good time for a revolution?” He speared a dangerous
glare at Lohka. “Who’s actually aiding the enemy? You!
You’re
the traitors.”

“
We didn’t want it to be
that way,” one of the others said. “We didn’t know the Ungulion
were on the move.”

“
Then end it now,” said
Enhyla. “Send a runner back to the city and quell the rebellion.
There will be time for making things right when all this is
over.”

“
I’ll go,” said the fourth
man, who hadn’t spoken yet.

Verin made some grimace from his back on the
forest floor, but Lohka nodded.

“
Go, Rim. Tell them I said
it. Tell them to call it off.”

Rim shot off at once into the trees, going
almost without a sound. Yatol finally left Verin, not even offering
him a hand to get up. He just turned away, tossing the spear aside.
His eyes still blazed in a face pale with anger, fixing dark and
silent on Tyhlaur. Tyhlaur stood statue-still. Shame and guilt and
fear were etched all over his face. He didn’t even jump when Yatol
grabbed him by the arm and propelled him into the nearby trees. I
couldn’t hear what Yatol said to him, and I couldn’t see a thing.
Both of them stood facing away from us. Only the murmur of their
voices drifted faintly across to me.

Kurtis inched closer to me, following my
gaze to stare at the two brothers. He didn’t say anything, but I
knew perfectly well that he was waiting for me to explain what was
going on. I couldn’t. All I wanted was for him to go away and leave
me alone. I wanted everyone to leave me alone. Except Yatol. But
then, I wasn’t sure about that either. I’d never seen him so
angry.

The thought made me glance back at Verin, or
where I expected him to be with his twisted leg. Almost too late I
saw him writhing on elbows and stomach toward the trees, reaching
out with every wriggling motion for the spear half-buried in the
undergrowth. And I just stood and stared, unable to move.
Incoherent thoughts tumbled through my mind. Why didn’t anyone stop
him? Why didn’t anyone notice? Kurtis, oblivious. Lohka and the
other man were talking quietly together, and Enhyla had turned
away, standing some fifteen feet away from us now with his arms
folded and chin buried against his chest.

I had to stop him. My pulse raced, and I
went cold all over. A spasm twinged across my bruised shoulder. He
reached the spear. What could I –

Panic lurched me into motion. I felt the
earth firm under my pounding feet. Couldn’t hear a sound. Saw Verin
haul himself upright, gripping the spear. I leapt forward, felt the
smooth haft meet the palms of my hands. Then the world was
tumbling, treetops at my feet, earth sinking to meet my head.
Somewhere between the sickening thud of my back meeting a trunk and
the taste of dirt in my mouth I heard a shout, a scramble, and
deafening silence. Such a silence.

I couldn’t see anything but shadows. My ribs
ached with every breath, and my right arm throbbed, pinned
awkwardly half behind my back. I wanted to move, but could only lay
there. Waiting.
Did I stop him? Is Yatol all right?

Somewhere nearby I heard a soft footfall
against the earth, the rustle of plants. Relief hit me hard, but I
couldn’t even manage to cry. I just whimpered into the dirt,
praying.
God, please let me be all right.

“
Merelin.”

At the sound of Yatol’s voice the tears
started falling, dripping down over my nose. Yatol’s hand fell
gently on my shoulder, the other touching my head, stirring back
the hair that matted my face. I made an effort to glance up at him,
meeting his anxious gaze.