Down a Lost Road (29 page)

“
He’s more stable than you
were, but not out of the woods yet. Less intense ailment, but
longer lasting. Seems to always happen like that. The harder you’re
hit, the quicker you recover…if you recover.” He shook his head.
“You crazy people with your encounters. I don’t know how any of you
are still alive.”

Aniira thrust her head into the tent.
“Merelin! You’re finally awake!” She came in and knelt down beside
Damian, opposite me. “How is he doing?”

Yatol refilled the shallow dish from a stone
pitcher and handed it across to her. I helped her prop up Damian’s
head so she could give him a dose of the medicine. He made no
reaction to the bitterness.

“
Still far away, isn’t he?”
Aniira murmured. She brushed a strand of his hair off his forehead,
then she flashed me an abashed glance, cheeks rosy. “I’m
sorry.”

I smiled and shook my head. “No need to
apologize. He wouldn’t mind.”

Her blush deepened. At least she wasn’t
acting manic anymore. I realized with some surprise that I actually
kind of liked her. She seemed sweet enough, and she’d helped save
my brother. Why had I hated her so much before?

Yatol got suddenly to his feet and left the
tent, Shan trailing him. I watched them go in surprise, but didn’t
think I had the right – or the strength, for that matter – to
follow them. I turned back to Aniira.

“
Why is he taking so long
to recover?”

“
He suffered, Merelin. Azik
really hurt him.”

She lifted his hand, turning it palm up to
reveal the grey spiderweb bruises. They seemed darker now than
before, lacing all up his arms, even past his elbows. My gaze
shifted to his neck, where the strange marks touched his jaw and
wreathed his collar. I was almost ashamed when I glanced at my own
wrists and found them completely healed.

“
I don’t understand.
Yatol…”

“
Yatol is incredibly
strong,” Aniira said quietly. Her gaze flicked up to mine. “I’ve
never known anyone quite like him. It’s like he’s got the blood of
some stronger race than ours in him.”

I frowned.
Thanks for rubbing in how much
better you know him than I do.
It made me consider how little I
actually knew about Yatol. Why did I think I had any chance with
him at all? But down there in the dungeon, I was so sure…

Damian shuddered again, violently. I pulled
one of the furs over him and laid my hand against his forehead.

“
Hang in there, Damian,” I
whispered in English. “This crazy girl here needs you. Well, both
of us crazy girls do. Come on, pull through.”

I need her to need you.

Yatol returned a moment later with a bowl of
stew and a few pieces of fruit. He sat down on the chest beside my
pile of furs, beckoning me over with his head.

“
You need to eat something.
Being half-starved won’t help you heal.”

I inched toward him and took the bowl from
his hands, sniffing suspiciously. It looked different than
Tyhlaur’s stew, but it smelled all right. I took a few tentative
bites and paused, waiting to see if I would pass out again like the
last time I’d tried to eat stew. To my relief, I didn’t.

“
Tyhlaur’s is better,” I
said, smiling.

“
I’ll tell him you said
that.”

I ate a few more spoonfuls under Yatol’s
concerned gaze.

“
You didn’t bring me any,
Yatol?” Aniira said playfully, standing up.

Yatol shrugged and lifted his hands.
“Couldn’t carry any more. Sorry.”

She grinned and ducked out of the tent.

“
Merelin…”

I stopped eating to glance up at Yatol. He
sighed and bowed his head.

“
You need to get your rest
tonight. We have to leave in the morning.”

“
Leave?” I echoed dumbly.
“But Damian isn’t ready to travel yet. I don’t know if I am
either.”

“
You’re strong. You’ll be
fine.” He hesitated. “We certainly couldn’t make Damian go,
though.”

“
I don’t understand,” I
said, throat burning. “I can’t leave him.”

“
He can’t come with us,” he
said as gently as he could. “Not where we’re going.”

“
But he’s been through so
much for us! We can’t make him stay behind now!” I protested,
ignoring how feeble my own logic seemed.

“
He and Kurtis will stay
with the army and help with the defense. I’ve already talked to
Syarat, and Kurtis is willing. Excited even.” He shook his head.
“The Ungulion host must be midway across the
Perstaun
by
now. If we don’t go soon it’ll be too late.”

I nodded miserably. I knew he was right, I
just didn’t know how I could do it.

Somehow I managed to finish the bowl of soup
and one of the pieces of fruit. By then I was so tired I could
hardly keep my eyes open. I had my chin propped up in one hand,
drowsily gnawing on the last juicy bits of the fruit. Finally I
gave it up, putting the hull of the fruit in the bowl and flopping
back onto the furs. Yatol got to his feet.

“
Good night,
Merelin.”

* * *

When morning came, I felt infinitely better.
I actually woke up refreshed, at least until I remembered that we
were supposed to be leaving. That sucked away all my energy, and
for almost ten minutes I sat in the semi-darkness beside Damian,
holding one of his hands and wishing everything away. He still
hadn’t woken up, and I couldn’t tell if he looked any better than
he had yesterday. I hated leaving him in that condition.

Finally I galvanized myself into action.
Braided my hair, donned my sandals. Found my pouch and Yatol’s
knife, which looked cleaned and polished. I considered taking my
sand-hued cloak, but decided it would just be extra weight. When I
was as prepared as I could get, I stepped out of the tent and
almost walked into Yatol. He surveyed me briefly and nodded.

“
Good. You’re
ready.”

“
Ready as I’ll ever
be.”

He ignored my implied complaint. “I’m going
to get the last of our provisions. Wait here.”

He disappeared into a nearby tent, leaving
me alone in anguish and uncertainty. I stood frozen, facing out
toward camp so I wouldn’t see Damian, pale and weak, and so
vulnerable. If I did, I’d lose all my nerve, all my courage. I’d go
back into the tent and refuse to move, and I’d fail and let Yatol
down, and my father and everyone else. They needed me to be strong.
Damian needed me to be strong.

I peered around the camp to try to distract
myself. Eventually I caught sight of Shan approaching from across
the camp, striding along with that fierce, quick energy. His bald
head swung this way and that, nodding at a few people, never
smiling. In less time than I thought possible he was with me.

“
So. I just get you healed
and off you go again.”

I smiled faintly. “Believe me, I don’t want
to go.” He moved to go into the tent, but I grabbed his hand.
“Shan, take care of Damian.”

He fixed me with an intense gaze, then
nodded. “I will.”

I released him and listened to the tent flap
swinging behind him. It felt like hours passed as I stood there
waiting for Yatol. I bounced a little on the balls of my feet,
restless. What was taking him so long? And how could I be so
anxious to leave, but at the same time want nothing more than to
hide somewhere and never be found?

Finally I glimpsed Yatol returning, four
waterskins slung over his shoulder and two bags of provisions
dangling from his hands. His face seemed so somber. All I wanted
was for him to smile, but he just met my gaze and dropped it again.
Wordlessly he handed me one of the waterskins and a bag of
provisions. I slung both across my chest, one to my right and one
to my left. I felt a little awkward, kind of like a pack mule, but
Yatol had three waterskins and a haversack on his back besides.
When he’d gotten all of his gear adjusted, he took my arm.

“
Do you want to say goodbye
to anyone? Kurtis?”

Goodbye. It sounded so final. Tears tugged
my mouth into a quavering frown. I couldn’t raise my eyes without
giving away my grief.

“
No,” I managed. “I
can’t.”

“
They’ve come to say
goodbye to you,” he said gently.

I risked a glance past his shoulder, and saw
Tyhlaur, Kurtis, Aniira and Enhyla all lingering nearby, watching
in somber silence. I gave up trying to hold back the tears and ran
to them, embracing each of them in turn. I wanted to say something
to them, but couldn’t. They didn’t speak either, until I turned
back to Yatol and heard Kurtis whisper,

“
Godspeed,
Merelin.”

I hesitated, then rushed on without looking
back. Yatol laid his hand on my shoulder as we left the camp, while
I struggled to stop crying. Finally the tears dried, leaving only a
numbness in my heart. I sniffled once decisively, lifted my chin,
and marched stolidly after Yatol.

Chapter 21 – Elekeo

The camp seemed nearer the
Perstaun
than I remembered. It seemed like we’d only just set out when we
left the camp and the forest behind, stepping out into the stagnant
desert. Yatol walked briskly and I had to jog to keep up with him.
My legs were still sore and tired, but sheer self-preservation
forced me to ignore it. Every few steps I glanced back at the
forest, the tents vaguely silhouetted among the trees. When they
passed out of view, I started lagging behind.

Yatol seemed to slow his pace a little for
me, but each step sapped more of my energy. I felt strangely tired
now – not only fatigued from the illness, but weary
inside
.
So weary. I plodded on doggedly. Even the slower pace seemed
excruciatingly fast. I bent my head and stared at the ground, but I
hardly saw it.

Finally Yatol came back and halted me with a
hand on my shoulder. I knew the concern that would have been on his
face, but I still kept my gaze locked on the sand. Even the warm
strength of his hand made no impression on me.

“
Are you still worried
about Damian, Merelin, or is something else holding
you?”

I just wanted to sit down, but I knew Yatol
would never let me. I could feel his gaze scrutinizing me as if he
could see my soul. I shifted my weight and refused to look up.

“
I’m thirsty.”

“
You don’t have to ask my
permission to get a drink.”

I uncorked my waterskin and lifted it to my
lips. The water was warm but pure, and it tasted good in my
sand-parched mouth. I took my time drinking a few long sips,
letting the fluid trickle down my throat.

“
It’s so far,” I said at
last. “How can we go so far? I’m so tired already.”

I risked a glance at him, saw him furrow his
brow.

“
You seemed a lot better
this morning.”

“
I should just let them
take me.”

“
Merelin!”

The alarm in his voice startled me, but then
I faded back into sullen obstinacy. “Well? What reason do you have
to go into K’hama?”

“
Your father charged me
with your protection,” he said sternly, taking me by both
shoulders. “If you go into K’hama, so do I.”

A faint glimmer of knowledge lingered at the
back of my mind, just out of my reach. But it clung like terror to
my throat, and I shuddered. I couldn’t meet his gaze – I tried to
look at him, but the calm, resigned light in his eyes bewildered
me. I shifted, clenching my hands, fighting the grief. For all I
tried to stop them, the words came tumbling out of my mouth.

“
But you won’t be coming to
the very end.”

He let go of my shoulders, reached up and
cupped my head in his hands.

“
Merelin, listen to me!” he
cried. “I’ll go anywhere with you. I’ll go anywhere for
you!”

I found myself clinging to him, his arms
tight around me. I was shaking and crying, terrified and ecstatic
all at once. Did he really mean that?
Oh God…what did he
mean?

With my head still buried against his
shoulder I asked, “But Yatol, how’re we going to get there? Will
Akhmar come?”

He released me, turning away as if suddenly
self-conscious. For what felt like ages he didn’t answer, just
stared out at the horizon with his arms crossed.

“
It depends,” he said
finally, his voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. “At the most
he could take us to the borders of K’hama, but not beyond. That
realm is hateful to all the Brethren.”

He tarried a moment longer, then finally he
beckoned me and started walking. I trudged after him. Everything
lapsed back into that monotonous stream of nothingness, and I lost
track of the time.