Down a Lost Road (37 page)

Chapter 26 – Sea and Stone

I lost track of time. With the world sullen
under the grey-swathed sky, I could no longer tell night from day.
Sometimes I caught a glimpse of Olte’s pale orb between the tree
boughs, tracing a slow arc across the sky, but I could never manage
to connect the sight with the idea of day. We stopped hardly at
all, just to sleep and eat – and sometimes not even that. Yatol had
been almost mute since we left the burning hut, even quieter than
usual. The old Yatol seemed like a regular chatterbox by
comparison. After a while I gave up trying to talk to him. I had a
hard enough time conjuring up words to say anyway. Even Akhmar’s
pace seemed to slow as we went. Maybe it was my exhausted eyes, but
after a while I thought the radiance of his coat had begun to fade.
I hoped it was only an illusion.

We left the
Branhau
and came to the
hills. It felt colder here, and the grass clung like tenacious
weeds to sandy soil. Desolate. Then it too passed away beneath us.
We rode between mountains and over meadows, all grey, all dead. A
constant thirst abraded my throat, but I hardly drank from my
waterskin. Food was even worse. We had gone through the supplies
Ingaea gave us in a few meals, and then all we had was the dried
stuff from Syarat’s camp. Tasteless and unsatisfying. It certainly
did nothing to bolster our energy. Dust. It was all dust,
everything.

At last we came to the top of a tall
plateau, and I felt Akhmar draw to a stop. Yatol slid down, and
after a moment I practically fell off Akhmar’s back. I didn’t know
why we had stopped. I was just happy to be on solid ground.

“
Merelin,” Yatol said,
beckoning me.

Okay, I was even happier to hear his
voice.

I followed him, while Akhmar trailed behind,
silent. Just ahead, gleaming vaguely in the spectral light, I
glimpsed a few thin, tall structures of stone, like shards of bone.
Ruins.

“
I’ve read of this
fortress,” Yatol said. “Last outpost before the Laoth. It was
called Lathelin.”

The sound of stones under my feet was
strange, even stranger the way it echoed in the emptiness. Rock
crumbled from the massive pillars, and failing arches spanned over
our heads. A broad ledge spread beyond the columns, and Yatol and I
walked out onto it to gaze over the edge of the plateau. Below I
glimpsed another brace of broken pillars angling out along a wider
ledge before vanishing into a strange, green-tinged darkness.

A solemn, surreal stillness hung tangibly
over us. The air smelled of salt and clay. I felt the chill wind,
heard it scattering chips of stone across the ledges. Saw the sad
facade of some ancient building behind me, a glimpse of faint light
roiling far below. Touched a column, a piece of stone crumbling
beneath my fingers. There was no peace here, but it felt like a
sanctuary. I had the word rolling around my thoughts when Yatol
spoke again.

“
Lathelin was once a
sanctuary for scouts and travelers. It was as close as anyone dared
come to K’hama. They kept a vigil on these heights, but had neither
strength nor arms to defend themselves when the Ungulion came. This
was the first place laid waste, ages ago before the Ungulion began
their true assault on our lands. It was a great hall, once, and now
it has all but disappeared.”

“
The whole place feels
sad,” I murmured. I lifted my face to the wind, but it was harsh
and unforgiving. “Like a monument to someone who died, but who no
one remembers. It’s just…all alone, out here in the middle of this
emptiness.” I glanced at my hand, chalky from the stone. “I hate
it.”

Yatol said nothing, just stood gazing out
over the emptiness below. I turned to find Akhmar and drew up in
horror.

“
Yatol! That
light!”

Yatol spun around, staring toward the hills
we had just left. A low light gleamed on the horizon, copper-gold
against the tarry sky. It was faint, a mere streak of color that
backlit the hills. Yatol’s face went white with fury, then he
dropped to his knees in anguish.

“
Why would he burn
it?”

“
Who is burning what? Is it
him? Is he still following us?”

“
Who else could it be?”
Yatol said bitterly.

“
No time,” Akhmar said,
coming alongside me. “We must keep on.”

Yatol sprang to his feet and jerked away,
pacing three long strides and back again with his hands knotted in
fists. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to console him, but how
could I? It was my fault the
Branhau
burned.

I turned away to avoid seeing his face, and
Akhmar lowered himself to help me get astride. Finally Yatol sprang
up behind me.

“
Let’s finish what they
started,” he said in my ear, voice dangerously low.

I shuddered.

Akhmar turned to follow the edge of the
plateau. I couldn’t look back at the streak of fire, or the
skeletal remains of Lathelin. I watched the ground beneath Akhmar’s
paws. It was all the same under the heavy shadows – barren, cold,
grey. If Akhmar hadn’t been carrying us, I would have laid down.
Just laid down, nothing more. Even with Yatol’s fury spurring us, I
couldn’t summon the desire to go on.

Akhmar pitched forward, lurching down the
slope to the base of the bluffs. Then he slowed a step as the land
changed abruptly. The rough and chalky ground vanished, giving way
to a dark green surface, almost glassy but far from beautiful. In
the darkness I couldn’t figure out what it was. Behind us, I
couldn’t see anything but the base of the plateau cast in greenish
hues. The wind swished sluggishly in the night, carrying a bitter
smell.

I wondered if Yatol sensed the change. I
glanced back at him, but his eyes were downcast. Maybe he was still
gripped by that blind rage, oblivious to everything else.

My gaze drooped, lost in the semi-opaque
mounds and dells.

“
Yatol, are you awake?” I
murmured into the gloom.

Odd. I couldn’t even hear the wind anymore.
The strange ground slipped away dizzily, but only silence
surrounded us.

“
Can you hear me? Where are
we?”

His hand loosened on my waist, just barely,
then dropped away as if he had fallen asleep. Presently the hills
began to shine with a slight translucence, sickly green. They
seemed to be moving against the pace of Akhmar’s paws, rolling in
their own rhythm. Noisome. Hypnotic. I leaned as far as I could to
the side and reached down. My fingers looked thin, bone-white. Then
they disappeared, from the tips to the knuckles, up to the wrists,
lost in clinging viridian light. Cold.

The ground rose, opening to receive me. It
swallowed my back and oozed over my arms, bathed my hair and
slipped down over my brow. I opened my mouth to scream, but it
streamed over my lips and I tasted brine. I sank slowly…numb. So
cold. Akhmar’s radiance blurred, brown through the filtering green,
receding…

Couldn’t move…couldn’t struggle…

Someone grabbed me. A painful grip on my
wrist, jerking my shoulder. Then I was lying on Akhmar’s mane, my
arms dangling limp around his neck. My muscles were still frozen,
but some strange heat seeped from Akhmar, banishing the frigid
chill. I felt Yatol’s cloak draped over me, warmer than I had
imagined. I racked my chest with coughing, spat to banish the
bitter taste in my mouth. Tried to push myself up but slumped
backwards. Yatol caught me and cradled me like Damian always did,
like Father always had.

“
Not long now,” he
murmured, brushing the sodden hair from my face. “We’re almost
there.”

My heart ached hearing his voice so lost and
dreamlike. I tilted my head back to stare at the dark sky, and
caught my breath. Millions of stars shone down on us, scattering
beloved light on the little world below.

“
Look, Yatol,” I said
suddenly, finding my voice in my surprise. “Look at the stars. It’s
night.”

Days or hours passed. I began to despair of
ever seeing land again. Rocky pillars like icebergs jutted from the
sea, a mockery of land that only fueled my discouragement. Even the
stars no longer impressed me – the sky seemed bare and empty, void
without the light of
Mekaema
. I tried to ask Akhmar about
the voyage, about my purpose and Pyelthan’s, but my voice died on
the thick air even as it left my lips. For a while I was content
with my failure, then I tried again, louder.

“
Akhmar, I need
help.”

I thought that would be enough, but nothing
happened. I sighed and pressed on.

“
What am I supposed to do?
We’re almost there and I still don’t know anything. Can’t you tell
me anything at all? Did they really bring my father
here?”

Akhmar finally turned to gaze back at me,
and his eyes were fire. His whole face seemed to flame with
light.

“
The day of doom is at
hand. The judgment is come.”

That was all he would say. I glanced back at
Yatol helplessly.

“
Didn’t my father ever
explain it to you? Wouldn’t he have told you about what he had to
do, or what I would have to do?”

“
I don’t know. I don’t even
know if we can survive. If we can come to him alive.”

“
I don’t care about that
right now!” I cried, angry. “I want to know what he told
you.”

“
Nothing I understood at
the time. He spoke of a war and a tempest – now I know he meant the
siege of n’Talanthis and the drowning of Andenor. He said many
years of peace followed, but we were foolish because we were never
far from our ancient enemy. But what that has to do with him, and
you and me, and Pyelthan…I don’t know.”

I ground my teeth. Secrets. Why did my dad
have to keep secrets? Maybe he’d meant to tell Yatol more, but
never had the chance. I thought about how my father had returned to
Arah Byen empty-handed, having just left Pyelthan in Kurtis’s
guardianship. He knew he was being pursued, that the Ungulion had
nearly caught him. He returned here, knowing they would follow him.
Knowing he would be too weak to defend himself, or to fight. And
Yatol? Would he have been able to prevent their coming, even if he
hadn’t left the portal? But it didn’t matter. They had captured my
dad. And after the Gorhiem Bolstoed…had they killed him?

I choked back tears. No, of course they
hadn’t. And what was more, I had done everything so far exactly as
they wanted. Tracing each step they had prepared for me, as
perfectly as if it had been choreographed. They were driving me,
luring me, and had known all along that I would senselessly
obey.

I took Pyelthan out of my pouch, rubbing it
between my fingers. God, I hated it. As if a bit of metal could be
worth more than the life of a man. How could my father have thought
that? I stared down at the sickly sea. More than anything I wanted
to throw the cursed thing into the heaving liquid. I clenched my
hand, drew it back to my shoulder.

Yatol grabbed my hand. I crumpled in his
grasp.

“
Merelin!” he cried. “Have
faith!”

“
I hate it! It’s death…it’s
all death! It stole my father from me and now it’s going to kill
him too!”

“
No! This thing is what has
kept your father alive. It isn’t death for us, but life. You asked
me to trust him. You said you would trust him!”

I fought for a moment against his grip on my
hand, then finally shoved Pyelthan back into the pouch with a
shuddering sigh. Yatol wrapped his arms around me, so strong and so
vulnerable, comforting and seeking comfort. I felt his head resting
against mine. Sleeping. Presently I felt myself drifting too,
falling into dreams.

A fleet of ships on a churning, troubled
sea. A man in a desert, setting crude wooden pegs into planks. An
island city, white-walled, gleaming as the last rays of sun
filtered through a bank of black cloud. Then the fleet appeared on
the horizon, breasting unimaginable swells. Darkness swallowed the
sky. The clouds unleashed their storm. The people of the gleaming
city fled to the tower. And the earth shook.

It shook so violently that I jolted and
woke. I caught my breath and steadied myself, taking a moment to
regain my bearings. I stared at the sea. The water was shuddering,
bouncing off the rocks in thick ripples. My heart plunged. It was
going to swallow us. We would be drowned, like the ships. Like the
island. But then the sea heaved back and oozed forward again, and
we were bathed in green light.

“
Hail, Farseer and Daughter
of the Exiles! Akhmar, I bring word.”

Even Yatol flinched at the sight of the
figure looming above us – green skin like beryl crystal, hair like
seaweed streaming in liquid array around a turbulent face. At every
moment he seemed ready to recede into the waves, and with his hands
he held back the sea. I wondered how I could be so terrified of
him, and at the same time so glad to see him. Some captivating
power and radiant beauty just flowed from his wild appearance.

“
Arwaya, hail!” Akhmar
said.

“
What word do you bring?”
Yatol asked.

“
The Ungulion encircle
Alcalon,” he said. “They are yet several days from its walls, but
they draw nearer with each hour. The Lord of K’hama hounds you yet,
and has burned the
Branhau
to clear his way.”

I winced, more with regret than anxiety.

“
Our army?” said
Yatol.

“
Driven back to the walls.
They will likely retreat within, and try to withstand the
siege.”

“
No!” I cried, clenching my
fists. “We’ll never make it now. We’re still in the middle of
this…place. And once we get to land, we still have to walk without
any help to the Citadel. And we don’t even know where it
is.”