Down a Lost Road (40 page)

“
I bear the Judgment Ring
here in the Halls of Death,” he cried.

His voice was hoarse at first, rough, but as
he spoke it strengthened and rang out in the vast chamber. He
lifted Pyelthan. It shone with white fire, colliding with the
death-red light.

“
King Silon, you laid siege
to n’Talanthis in the hopes of claiming what was not yours to buy
or win. Immortal life you thought to seize by strength of arms
against the decrees of heaven, so immortal life you were given in
punishment of your treason. You have walked the ages of man, never
perished and never judged, still seeking what could never be
yours.”

My breath came shallow. I felt a strange,
tingling sensation, as if every drop of blood in my body were
slowly dripping out, out through the tips of my fingers, out
through the soles of my feet. I forced my eyes open. The whole
chamber crowded with tormented souls, cringing in fear of my
father’s words. Their faces blurred together. And then I seemed to
go out of myself, somehow, like I was looking down at my body from
somewhere withdrawn. I saw myself slumped against the table with
drooping head, and then my vision wavered. Dad was still speaking,
his voice coming thick and muffled as through a dense fog.

“
So here at last I bring to
you the day of doom. With this symbol I bring you death, the death
you did not merit at the drowning of Andenor. Be at peace, you who
repented. Prince Elekeo, General Myno, faithful allies. Those who
persisted, you have one last chance before you are
judged.”

I no longer shivered. My hands lay limp at
my sides. I had my gaze locked on my father, his brow gleaming with
the light from Pyelthan. I couldn’t even feel the jagged stone
beneath me.

But I could hear the furious screams and
anguished cries of the Ungulion. The Lord of K’hama, dim in my
eyes, lurched toward my father shrieking, fingers outstretched. I
parted my lips to cry out, but no sound came. Dad held up both his
hands, and the undead king writhed as the room erupted in blood-red
light.

“
Then the Hellgate is open
to claim you who are judged!”

I couldn’t move to cover my ears from the
deafening chaos of rage and hate. The shadows seethed. Fermenting
below it all was a low rumbling drone, the drone of fire and steam.
I gasped once, and my lungs failed. I stared at the gaping, roiling
Hell-portal, at the Ungulion trying desperately to flee whatever
magnetism pulled them toward it. The Lord of K’hama flung himself
one last time at my father, and a horde of Ungulion surged behind
him. Dad recoiled toward the steps, holding Pyelthan out as if it
could ward away the Ungulion even now. But it splintered suddenly,
brilliant light fracturing the dark, and was gone.

“
Daddy…”

An Ungulion grabbed my ankle, his cavernous
eyes glared into mine. He would pull me with him into the
Hell-portal. It was over. Death…that was all that was left for me.
I felt myself tottering on the brink. My father’s face was the only
thing holding me. Greyness flooded my vision, and his form began to
blur and vanish.

Damian!
I screamed inside.
Mykyl!

I gathered every last remnant of my
strength, dragging my hand to my belt, twisting numb fingers around
the small knife’s hilt. Pulled it free, struggled to hold it out.
Let it drop, felt it strike the hand that held me. Pain…searing,
burning… The blade clattered onto the stone, and I slumped
forward.

Somewhere in all the murk I felt a warmth
steal over my cold limbs, then light, dazzling, pure light. I saw
Onethyl appear beside me, stooping to lift my father. Then Mykyl
was there, so flooded with radiance that it blinded me. He didn’t
linger, but his hands flashed out and swept me off the cold dead
floor. As he bore me to the portal my eyes strayed one last time
over the hall of the judgment. I saw the black throne fracturing in
the churning crimson emptiness. I saw the Ungulion struggling to
escape the Hell-portal, trying desperately to follow us. And I saw
Yatol, gazing back at me as he reached to take up the Blade of
Heaven.

Chapter 29 – Goodbye

I screamed, struggling against Mykyl’s grasp
as darkness bound me. The last thing I knew was Yatol spreading his
arms before the force of the Ungulion, calling something into the
murk. A blinding flash of light, white and gold. Then, nothing. The
portal took me and I saw no more. I tried desperately to stay
conscious. All I could see in my mind was Yatol’s eyes, wrought
with white fire, turned full on me as Mykyl bore me away. Life
should have been returning to me, but I felt like death. I felt
nothing at all but a raw void.

Smooth stone met my hands, voices rang in my
ears, shouts of jubilation. Saw light bathing us, Mykyl close by
me. Smelled smoke and death, sickening me. A hand fell on my
shoulder, but I wrenched away from it, threw myself at Mykyl’s
feet. I said nothing. I had no voice. The tears came so violent
that I couldn’t even sob. But in my heart I begged him to go, to
return for Yatol, to bring him back. He gazed down at me, full of
compassion. Suddenly dazzling light welled inside him, bursting out
in a radiance of power as he lifted his hands. I bowed my head,
blinded, and when I opened my eyes, he was gone.

I felt so alone.

“
Merelin!”

Damian threw his arms around me, crying with
joy and laughing all at once, his grip fierce on my shoulders. He
was saying something to me, speaking in a rush of words, but I
neither heard nor understood them. I stared after Mykyl, then
turned my head in silence to look at Damian. The laughter died on
his lips when our gazes met.

“
Oh Mer,” he murmured,
putting his hand against my face. “Yatol?”

I shook my head. The tears rolled down my
cheeks. Past Damian I saw my dad standing with the others, straight
and tall and flushed with life. But his gaze was turned to me, and
when our eyes met he came and knelt beside me, taking me in his
arms and cradling me against his chest. I leaned my head on his
shoulder, no longer crying, not even thinking. Numb and lost, I
just stared out across a courtyard I scarcely saw.

Beside me, Damian bowed his head, fixing his
gaze on the ground in sudden concentration. His muscles tensed,
sweat stood out on his brow. Then he relaxed as the light and
warmth returned. I turned to the radiance with a quick surge of
hope, and watched as Mykyl appeared out of the blur of light.

Hope shattered. In his arms was Yatol.

Mykyl laid him gently on the stone, but his
gaze was fixed on me. No sorrow marred his face, but somehow it
spoke consolation. I couldn’t be consoled.

Somewhere behind me, Tyhlaur cried out in
anguish. He ran to Yatol, lifted him from the harsh stone and
wrapped his arms around him weeping. There wasn’t a part of Yatol’s
body that wasn’t covered in blood. I thought there couldn’t be a
single drop left in his veins. Dad tightened his arms around me. He
didn’t say a word. I didn’t need words. Didn’t want them. I just
leaned against him watching Tyhlaur with Yatol, and Mykyl radiant
behind him.

Tyhlaur lowered Yatol back to the ground,
clasping his bloodied hand in hands as bloody. He pressed it to his
cheek, then lay it on Yatol’s breast and tore himself away in a
rage of grief. I extracted myself from my father’s arms and crept
over to Yatol. I gazed at his face, calm, strong, the old scar
white under the bright heavenshine, stark against the streaks of
blood. Hand shaking, I reached out and touched his brow. I
half-expected him to open his eyes, to smile, to take my hand in
encouragement, but he only lay in quiet…in peace…

I suddenly realized we weren’t alone in the
courtyard. There were people everywhere, dancing in the streets
around us, laughing and singing. Some looked at Yatol and shook
their heads sadly, but most didn’t even seem to notice him. I don’t
think anyone saw Mykyl. Fury seized me, and I wished bitterly that
they would leave. Part of me wanted to scream at them all, to make
them silence their happy clamor. I gazed at my father, then Enhyla
and Kurtis, and Tyhlaur crouched against the wall inconsolable.
Damian knelt beside me. All of us, silent.

“
How can they be so happy?”
I choked.

“
We were on the brink of
death,” Damian said.

I shuddered and my eyes blurred again. I
knew what it meant to be on the brink of death. And Yatol…? I
turned my head to hide the tears.

“
The Ungulion forced the
gates and were sweeping in. We were utterly vulnerable. We had
already lost so many. We thought…we thought we were
doomed.”

“
Where are we?”

“
Alcalon!” he said,
following my gaze to the sand white walls and the spiraling tower
above us. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? It would have been destroyed,
given a few minutes more of the battle.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t beautiful. It was
cold and empty, and I hated it. I longed for the shaded paths and
glades of the
Branhau
, but it was burned, the
Perstaun
bare, the forests around Alcalon ravaged. All
empty, all hateful. I turned my gaze to Mykyl.

“
Take us away from here,” I
whispered, pleading. “This is no place for us.”

Mykyl bent to look me full in the eyes.
“Daughter, would you take away their joy?”

I bowed my head. “No. But I can’t share it.”
I glanced back at the others of our group. “They don’t,
either.”

“
Where would you
go?”

“
To the
Branhau
,” I
said immediately, then faltered. “But it is destroyed.”

“
It is not utterly
destroyed,” Mykyl said.

“
Please, take Yatol there.
He loved the forest…”

A commotion behind us interrupted me, and
turning I saw an armored man stride into the courtyard, a score of
men around him. His face was very young, noble and handsome but
marred with dirt and blood, and he had one arm bound to his chest.
On his head was a thin gold band with silver feathers sweeping back
and down, a curious crown. My dad, Mr. Dansy, Enhyla, and Tyhlaur
all rose to greet him, bowing deeply. I knew who he was, but my
heart shuddered and I turned desperately back to Mykyl.

“
Take us away,” I begged.
“I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want him to see
me.”

“
He will pay you and Yatol
the greatest honor.”

“
I don’t want it,” I said
quickly. “And Yatol wouldn’t have either. Please,
Mykyl!”

I was nearly in a panic, and Damian came to
stand with me.

“
I want to go too,” he
said. “This is no place for me either. The others can follow
later.”

A smile, compassionate and approving,
flooded from Mykyl’s radiant eyes, and he lifted Yatol from the
ground. Onethyl joined him, taking Damian and I into his arms.
Light enveloped us, and the white walls of Alcalon faded from view.
When the brightness subsided, we stood alone with Yatol in a
tree-shaded grove of the
Branhau
.

I sat down in the flower-strewn grass, Yatol
lying in front of me. It looked so wrong. The gentle swaying
grasses, the color-brimmed flowers shimmering under the light, the
blue-cascade trees sparkling and drifting in a soft, warm
breeze…and Yatol in the midst of it all, marred and broken.

“
What happened,
Damian?”

Damian sat down beside me and took my hand.
“When Yatol came back, none of us could talk to him. We didn’t know
what had happened, except I knew you had called me to open the
portal.”

“
Was he angry?”

“
I don’t think so. He
seemed…desolate. Not angry. Certainly not at you.”

Desolate.
Oh God…
I covered my mouth
with my other hand.

“
He fought alongside us as
we retreated, but there was just this look in his eyes…I don’t know
what it was. Resignation, perhaps. Maybe anticipation. But Tyhlaur
was so upset – he kept talking to Enhyla, and trying to talk to
Yatol, but Yatol wouldn’t say anything to him. Aniira too. Until
she got wounded, she and Tyhlaur were always with him. It went on
like that for days. He fought so hard we were mostly just glad to
have his help, but I wished I could do something for
him.

“
Then suddenly the Ungulion
began withdrawing, not marching away, but it was like they were
being torn away and dragged somewhere else. And then I heard you
calling me, and Mykyl came and told me to open and guard the
portal. Yatol told me that the Ungulion would be too many and too
strong for me to hold the portal by myself. He said it wasn’t
enough to guard this side alone. I begged him not to go, but he
said, ‘It is my gift, and now is my hour.’ Onethyl went through the
portal, and Mykyl carried Yatol through. You know the
rest.”