Down a Lost Road (7 page)

Silence. Such a long silence.

“
You again, is it?” came a
low, sibilant voice, mocking.

I lifted my head, but couldn’t see the
Ungulion. He was talking to Yatol, not to me, but for some reason
the realization made me cold all over.

“
It is always you. How long
has it been this time?”

Yatol said nothing and I heard a harsh bang,
as if the Ungulion had kicked Yatol’s cell door.

“
Look at you already. And
it has only begun. This is the last time, for you,” the Ungulion
said, rasping with anger.

Then Yatol’s voice, quiet but impressive,
“Aye, it is.”

The Ungulion struck the bars again, louder
this time so that I clapped my hands over my ears. But I couldn’t
block out the clash of iron keys, the terrible squealing of rusting
hinges. My heart dropped clear to the soles of my feet. I scrambled
to the door of my cell, pressing my forehead against the bars. I
couldn’t make out what I was hearing – shuffling feet, voices,
rattling metal.

Suddenly Yatol lurched into the corridor,
catching his balance just before he fell into the wall with its
gruesome iron spikes. The Ungulion stepped out of the cell after
him, rigid and unmoved, stretching out a noisome hand to grab
Yatol’s arm. Yatol jerked away, all fire and fury. I wondered why
he didn’t fight, until I saw the glint of chains on his wrists. I
clutched the bars of my cell, tears and sweat streaming down my
face. I desperately wanted to call out, but my throat clammed up,
choking me.

Yatol glanced at me, just as the Ungulion
turned him down the corridor. I couldn’t decipher that look, not
through the blur of tears. Then he was gone. The tap of footsteps
faded into the shadows. I sank onto the ground, shaking, sobbing,
hugging myself as if I were cold, though the walls seeped so much
sticky heat it felt like a sauna.

The minutes dragged by.

What were they doing to him? I tried not to
think about it, blocked the images. What did the Ungulion mean, it
would be the last time? I rolled back onto my knees beside the
grate, craning my head to peer down the corridor. The rough metal
abraded my cheek, reeking with the stench of rust. Such a deafening
silence.

A sharp clang shattered the stillness,
followed by the rasp of metal hinges. Footsteps. Finally I caught
sight of them – the Ungulion, tall and straight, half-dragging a
slumping figure beside him.

“
Yatol!”

Yatol’s head lifted, just ever so slightly,
not nearly enough to let him see me. I didn’t care. He was alive. I
kept saying those words over and over, even while I heard the
Ungulion slam open the cell door and shove Yatol back inside. The
key clanged in the lock.

My momentary relief vanished in an eruption
of new terror. I sank away from the bars, hiding my face in my
knees and listening, breathless, while the tapping resumed. Three
steps, four…

“
A newcomer, I
see.”

I couldn’t look up. The key turned in the
lock, the door whined open. Two more steps and I didn’t have to
open my eyes, I could feel him standing over me. The smell of death
hung around him. The air grew colder, then suddenly a moldy grey
hand seized my wrist.

“
Get up!”

I pulled back but the hand wouldn’t release.
I wondered how bones and rot could have so much strength. Then an
iron ring clamped shut around my arm, the chain dripping toward the
ground in a rattle of cold metal.

“
Please let me go,” I
whispered.

The Ungulion tugged the chain, trying to get
me to stand. In a moment he would grab my other hand. On a sudden
impulse I reached into my back pocket, babbling nonsense all the
while. Pyelthan felt like ice. I pulled it out, slowly, trying not
to make any abrupt movements. With my hand still behind my back, I
shoved the coin into the pile of rocks. Just as I let go, the
Ungulion jerked me to my feet, clapping my other wrist in
metal.

Before I realized it, he had propelled me
into the corridor. A scrabbling sound came from the next cell, then
the door shook as Yatol threw himself against it.

“
No!” he cried, hoarse.
“Leave her alone!”

He stretched one arm into the corridor, the
other hand clutching the bars, white from effort trying to hold
himself up. The Ungulion lashed out a metal-clad boot, kicking the
grate so hard that Yatol reeled back. I caught his gaze, just for a
moment. I saw his features marred and gruesome in the dim light,
but I couldn’t comprehend the terror in his eyes. In another minute
we had passed his cell, and I stumbled numbly beside the Ungulion,
down a hall through utter darkness.

Chapter 5 – Darkness

We passed through a doorway from pitch black
into blacker pitch. The Ungulion jerked the chain between my
wrists, so hard I almost lost my balance. A harsh clang drowned the
rattling of the links, then a heavy weight dragged down on my arms.
I took a step forward, experimentally, but lurched back again as I
reached the end of the fetter. Then I backed up and my hands
brushed against rough stone that felt like a wall or a pillar. It
didn’t matter which. It just meant I wasn’t going anywhere.

My motions must have annoyed the Ungulion,
because suddenly the chain yanked back, hard. The Ungulion had
refastened the fetters, so that now I couldn’t move at all. I
snapped the chains once but it was more for defiance than any
belief in its utility. My wrists flared with pain and I stood
still.

The Ungulion’s robes whispered as it moved
away. Then came the sound of stone striking stone, and a spark
danced in the void. One lone candle began burning, a tiny
flickering thread of gold. Somewhere behind me wind whistled
through a chink in the wall, died, then picked up again. I
shivered, straining to make out the dimensions of the room. I could
see nothing but a ring of slick rock glistening under the candle.
No other light broke the gloom, and I could smell only long-wet
stones and the blood on my own face.

“
Who are you?”

I jumped so violently that the metal rings
bruised my wrists again. I could have sworn the Ungulion had left
me alone. The breathy voice wreathed through the dark silence,
echoing off the walls, so that I couldn’t tell which direction it
came from.

“
Who are
you
?” I
asked.

I peered blindly into the shadows as I
spoke. Pain erupted across my cheek. A metal cuff, striking me so
hard that my ears rang and my mouth filled with an acrid, coppery
taste. I spat, then gagged. Blood. I was still trying to gather my
senses when I realized I was staring into two eyes, not six inches
from my face. They reflected the feeble candlelight, or maybe they
glowed with their own hellish light. I jerked my gaze away, closed
my eyes. Wished I hadn’t asked.

“
Who are you?” the Ungulion
asked again.

This time I caught the glint of the bracer
as he raised his arm. I flinched.

“
Merelin!”

I regretted it as soon as I had said it.
Sixteen-year-old girl or not, I had to do better than that. I
thought of Yatol, bleeding in his cell. What had he gone through? I
couldn’t imagine he had given up any information that easily, or at
all. I could do it for him. Could be strong for him. I had to.

“
Merelin,” the Ungulion
rasped. “That is only a name. Who
are
you?”

“
I’m nobody. I’m just a
girl.” My breath came shallow. “I ran away! I got lost, and now I’m
here.”

“
You were in the
Perstaun
. Nobody comes to the
Perstaun
by
choice.”

Two breaths. Steady. I struggled to stand a
little taller.

“
Maybe I came looking for
you.”

I clacked my jaws shut, but too late. The
words were already out there.
Brilliant, Merelin. Provoke the
thing. What are you thinking?

The candle flickered with a sudden grinding
of stone on stone. No new light appeared, but I could hear more
footsteps – another Ungulion. My interrogator went to join the
newcomer, the two of them standing so that they blocked my view of
the candle.

“
Has she said
anything?”

“
Not yet. She’s insolent,
and useless. Let me kill her and be done with it. We have the
other. We can break him eventually.”

“
Did you search
her?”

“
She had nothing. Strange
garments, but nothing of interest.”

One of them came over to me. I felt more
than saw it beside me. Their voices sounded similar, but somehow I
knew that this was the new Ungulion looming over me, so close that
if it had been a person, I would have felt its breath. Not feeling
anything terrified me. Even worse, a rotten stench drifted around
its lipless mouth as it spoke.

“
Where are you
from?”

My thoughts raced. They certainly wouldn’t
believe I was nobody if they knew I’d come from Earth. But I didn’t
know anything at all about this place. No names, no geography,
nothing. I didn’t even know how the people lived. All I’d seen was
the camp, but I couldn’t imagine everyone here lived like
nomads.

“
From…my village,” I said.
“It’s, uh, near the desert.”

“
How do you know
Yatol?”

I swallowed hard. “Who’s that?”

For a moment neither of them spoke or moved.
I wondered if I’d fooled them, but my optimism was short-lived. I
suddenly got that feeling again, like their nails were picking into
my thoughts. I screamed in fury and jerked against the chains, but
couldn’t raise my hands to my head to block out the sensation. When
a surge of electrifying pain shot through my head, my head snapped
back and hit the stone with a sharp crack. My stomach churned. I
shook my head violently, willing away the memories. I couldn’t let
them see what I knew. Wouldn’t.

Seconds or minutes later they abruptly
ceased their efforts. With the soft clap of metal soles on stone
they retreated to the far side of the room.

“
Was she this much trouble
when you brought her?”

“
Yes.”

The stone doorway scraped open again.

“
Unusual.”

“
She’s lying.”

“
Do you suppose she has
anything to do with him?”

“
I don’t know, but I
suspect she does.”

“
I suppose we must break
her. Summon…”

I couldn’t hear what else was said. As the
door shut, the draft extinguished the candle.

* * *

The next thing I knew I was back in my cell,
lying crumpled in the corner. My head screamed with pain, and my
mouth still tasted like blood. For a few minutes I lay quietly,
trying to calm my breathing and gather my thoughts. They swam
around in my mind in muddled confusion, snatches of worries and
fears that I couldn’t catch and comprehend. Yatol. Ungulion. Summon
what?

I propped myself up on my elbow, pulling
strands of hair from my sticky mouth. Had they summoned it,
whatever
it
was? Did I give them information?
Think,
Merelin.
But I couldn’t remember anything after the candle went
out.

“
Merelin!”

Yatol? His voice sounded weak, a bare rasp
in the silence. I crawled over to the wall, resting my forehead
against the stone.

“
I’m here,” I said when I
managed to find my voice.

“
Are you hurt? Are you all
right?”

I just wanted to curl up in bed with my head
under the pillow and try to make sense of the pain. I couldn’t tell
him that, though. I couldn’t answer at all. After a moment I felt
little vibrations in the wall as he began pulling away the chunks
of stone on the other side.

“
Yatol, they were going to
summon something.”

My voice quavered, pathetic.

“
Azik,” Yatol said. “The
Breaker.”

That didn’t sound good.

“
I think I fainted. I don’t
know if I told him anything.”

“
He hasn’t arrived
yet.”

“
How do you
know?”

The long silence made me nervous, then
finally he said, “You wouldn’t be here now if you’d seen him.”

“
Have you ever seen
him?”

He didn’t answer. After a moment the
scraping of rock resumed, and I forced my hands to make an effort
at helping him. The first chunk of rock dislodged Pyelthan. I
caught it before it hit the floor, wrapping my fingers gratefully
around the cool circle before tucking it back into my pocket.
Leaving it behind, unguarded, had been a huge risk. It had worked
out fine – in fact I was pretty sure I’d been right to hide it.
Somehow I think they had been looking for it, when the one Ungulion
asked the other if I’d had anything interesting on me.