Realm Of Light Part 10

"If you are told my name, will you let us leave?"

"No one leaves the realm of shadow."

She gazed up at the monster and never hesitated. "Kostimon, emperor of the world of light, pa.s.sed through the realm of shadow and left it. He has done so many times."

A dry, rasping noise filled the air. After a moment, Caelan realized it was laughter. The sound chilled him.

"The emperor of light may do many things denied to men ... or donares," donares," the Guardian replied. the Guardian replied.

Caelan drew a quick breath and tightened his grip on her hand. "Don't-"

But she ignored him. Her gaze remained on the Guardian. She held her head high. Proudly, she said, "I am the empress of light. I may pa.s.s through the realm of shadow and leave it, as may my escort."

The Guardian's shoulders drew up, and it lowered its head toward her like a predator. It hissed in satisfaction. "You are the woman called Ela in Kostimon's dreams. You are the one we have searched for. The Master wants you."

Caelan saw her face go white. His own felt cold and drained of blood. "No," he whispered.

"Stay calm, donare," donare," the Guardian said without glancing his way. "You have not the strength to fight me." the Guardian said without glancing his way. "You have not the strength to fight me."

Elandra's face held no color. Her eyes looked huge, but she did not quail. To the Guardian, she said, "Kostimon dreams of many women. Kostimon owns many women. I am the empress sovereign. Grant me pa.s.sage."

"You are the woman called Ela-"

"That is not my name!" she shouted. "In the name of the force that rules you, stand aside and let me pa.s.s!"

The Guardian stood silent and unmoving, its implacable gaze locked on Elandra.

Her eyes dropped shut. "Sweet mother G.o.ddess, bless the weavers of Mahira and their protection."

"Amen," Caelan responded, although he wasn't sure if the G.o.ddess would be insulted by the prayer of a man.

"You will speak your name."

"I am the empress sovereign," she replied. "That is name enough. I am one with Kostimon."

The Guardian uttered a low, grumbling sound of displeasure. "Kostimon has not spoken your name to the Master, but he will. Kostimon has not told the Master he gave sovereignty to a wife, but he will explain. Kostimon has not mentioned that his wife keeps a donare donare as a pet, no, not after Kostimon promised the Master he would have no such creatures-no as a pet, no, not after Kostimon promised the Master he would have no such creatures-no donares, donares, no no jinjas, jinjas, no Penestricans, no seers-in his palace to interfere with the plans of the Master. Kostimon has kept many secrets, but soon he will tell them." no Penestricans, no seers-in his palace to interfere with the plans of the Master. Kostimon has kept many secrets, but soon he will tell them."

"Let Kostimon give the answers," she said boldly, her face ashen. "That is his place, not mine. Let me pa.s.s, as he has pa.s.sed."

"Kostimon went not through my gate," the Guardian said. "Kostimon does not come to the temple of Beloth except to drink from the Cup of Immortality."

As it spoke, the Guardian turned to one side and gestured below at the bottom of the amphitheater, where stood an altar stained with blood and ringed with flames that burned in midair.

"Do you ask for this cup?" the Guardian asked.

"We do not," Caelan said firmly before Elandra could answer. "We ask only for pa.s.sage through the gate."

Again there came the rasping sound that was the Guardian's laughter. "Do you know where the gate leads, donare?" donare?"

Another trick question. Caelan's spirits dropped, but he allowed himself to show no hesitation. "It leads to the world of light."

"I guard the Gate of Sorrows. Will you pay the toll?"

"What toll?" Caelan asked warily.

The Guardian's glowing eyes blazed into his and held them before he could look away. "If you go through it, you must return."

"No!" Elandra said before Caelan could speak. "He is here only because of me. I will pay the toll for both of us."

Aghast, Caelan looked at her in horror. "You don't know what you're doing. Make no bargain, Majesty." He turned to the Guardian. "She is the empress. Her pa.s.sage is free."

"Not in the world of shadow, mortal," the Guardian said angrily. "Take care. She rules in light, but here in darkness our lady is Mael and her name stands supreme beside the Master's."

Caelan found his mouth so dry it took two swallows for him to speak again. "I am corrected," he said at last, cautiously.

The Guardian stared at him, then at Elandra. "Very well," it said. "Pa.s.sage is granted for both, in exchange for the price you will pay."

"No," Caelan said in horror. "Please, don't-"

"What is your price?" Elandra asked.

"You will know, when the time comes to pay."

Caelan frowned, unable to believe Elandra was considering this. "Don't agree," he said sharply to her. "He's influencing your mind. Don't listen."

"I agree," Elandra said. Her voice did not falter.

The Guardian extended its gloved hand to Elandra. "Touch me to seal your word."

"No!" Caelan cried hoa.r.s.ely, but Elandra put her hand in the clasp of the Guardian. She flinched and for a moment her eyes went blank. Then she was frowning and pulling free.

Caelan felt hollow with despair at what she'd done. But it was too late now to stop her. He couldn't believe that now, at this final moment, he had failed to protect her.

Taking Elandra's hand, Caelan faced the Guardian. "Let us go," he said angrily.

The Guardian turned its back on them and glided away. Caelan followed, leading Elandra, who was weeping. She covered her face with her free hand and would not look at him.

Ahead of them, yellowish green light glowed between the two tall pillars. As before, when Caelan gazed at it, his eyes began to itch and burn. What would happen when they stepped into that light? What would it do to them? He did not want to know, yet it was the only way out.

The Guardian drew its cowl over its head, concealing its terrible visage at last, and stopped by the gate so that the eerie light shone over its black robes. It raised both hands, and the soldiers jumped to their feet, roaring a deafening torrent of sound.

It was louder than anything Caelan had ever heard in the arena, savage and l.u.s.tful and triumphant. He did not know why they were cheering. He did not think he wanted to know.

The roar went on and on until the ground shook with it. The Guardian spoke, but its words could not be heard in the din. Words appeared in the air, hanging there, burning there for a moment, before fading with little wisps of black smoke.

The Guardian pointed at the gateway, and Caelan drew in a deep breath. He held tightly to Elandra's hand, determined not to lose her now, yet knowing he already had.

"The Gate of Sorrows," the Guardian said, still pointing. "Go."

Caelan glanced at Elandra, who stood with her face averted from his. "Be brave," he said, as much to encourage himself as her. "We're nearly there."

She did not respond.

Without further hesitation, he stepped between the pillars and led her into the light.

Part Two

Chapter Eight.

He was cold, terribly cold. Rousing slowly, at first he was conscious only of the stiff ache of his muscles, of how tightly his arms were clamped to his sides in an effort to conserve warmth.

Something feather-light tickled his face. He frowned, struggling against the mist of sleep. A pungent scent of pine needles filled his nostrils, awakening him further. From overhead, he heard the sharp, raucous cry of jackdaws. The sound and scent reminded him of home, except that he used to sleep warm and snug in his chamber.

The tickling sensation came again, brus.h.i.+ng his cheek, his eyelashes, his nose.

Opening his eyes, Caelan saw falling snow, the fat wet flakes spiraling down through a gray mist. He was lying outside on the ground, and it was snowing on him. Small wonder he felt so cold.

Then the fragrance of evergreens registered fully in his muddled senses. He blinked and focused on the nearby pines and spruces.

Abruptly he sat bolt upright and looked around.

He was in a small clearing, a recent one by the look of the freshly cut stumps still sticky with golden resin. The ground of spongy forest earth and layers of brown needles looked trampled and sc.r.a.ped by the logs that had been cut and dragged away.

And yet... and yet... he knew this ominous sky that was the color of tarnished silver. Drawing in another breath, he let the clean scents of snow and forest clear his mind. The falling snow, fluffy soft, melting as soon as the flakes landed, greeted him like an old friend.

He was home.

Caelan drew a breath so rapid and sharp it hurt his lungs.

Digging his hands into the soil, he lifted dirt and pine needles to his face and inhaled the moist, earthy fragrance.

Then his hands began to tremble, and the soil crumbled through his fingers. Kneeling, he lifted his face to the sky, blinking a little against the falling snow, and let tears fill his eyes.

To be in Trau again. It was as if years had dropped away and he was a boy again. Just an ordinary boy full of dreams and mischief, not yet tainted by evil or cruelty or betrayal. A boy who had not yet killed. A boy not yet tested to the depths of his scarred soul.

Hope filled him, and he dared believe that by some miracle the shadow G.o.ds had returned him to the past, where he could start again, try again, avoid the mistakes that had cost him so dearly.

But then he glanced down and saw the crimson folds of his cloak spread on the ground about him. It looked like blood here in the mist and snow. He drew a deep breath and felt the solid constriction of his armor. There was no going back, ever. There was only the bitter present, harsh and worn. Trau legends said a man carried his sins in a basket on his back, like firewood, and as each man walked his path of life, collecting sticks, the basket grew heavier.

It was true.

"Caelan?"

The voice startled him. Snapping his head around, he saw Elandra threading her way through the stumps. In her cloak of golden wool and cream-colored gown, her auburn hair streaming free over her shoulders, she looked like a maiden of the woods, as golden and vivid as autumn itself. But there was a frown on her face, and as she drew near, her eyes looked puzzled.

She stopped and stared at him, still kneeling with a clot of earth clenched in his hand. "Are you unwell?"

Embarra.s.sed to be caught like this, with his emotions exposed and naked, Caelan hastily shook his head.

"Then rise and tell me where we are. I have never seen such strange trees. And what is this that falls from the sky? Snow?"

"Yes," he said.

"I was told it could snow in Imperia, but rarely. I have never seen anything like this."

She looked impatient and wonderstruck at the same time. He gazed up at her, captured anew by her beauty and vitality, and lost his heart to her all over again.

Her presence drove away the ghosts. He felt stronger and more in command of himself. "It will snow all night," he predicted, suddenly enjoying the opportunity to introduce her to the weather of a real winter. "By dawn, you will no longer see the ground. All will be covered in white snow, as though magic has been worked."

Her frown deepened, indicating that his description had failed to enchant her. "Magic?" she echoed. "Yes, I would say it has been worked. Where are we?"

"Trau."

Her mouth fell open, but it was a moment before she spoke. "I don't believe it."

Caelan got stiffly to his feet, then stood still for a moment as a wave of dizziness washed over him. As soon as it pa.s.sed, he opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. "Trau," he said firmly.

"We are a thousand leagues from where we need to be. What game did the Guardian play with us?"

Caelan had no answer for her. "At least we are no longer in the realm of shadow."

She gestured impatiently and began to pace back and forth. "Yes, but that hardly matters now. What of Kostimon? What of the army? How am I to join them if I am in Trau?" Trau?"

Caelan stopped listening. Turning aside, he glanced up and saw the jagged peaks of the Cascades looming high on the horizon. Caelan felt the wind in his face, gentle as yet, but with a threat of sharpness. It had s.h.i.+fted since he first awakened. It was blowing off the glacier now, and that meant a storm was coming. He suspected it was mid-afternoon if not later, and they had little time to find shelter. Then it was as though the sight of the mountain fully registered in his mind. He let his jaw drop open while he stared.

"Caelan!" Elandra said sharply, recapturing his attention. "Are you listening to anything I say?"

He turned to her slowly, feeling stunned and not quite in possession of his wits. "I am home," he said, and even his voice sounded hollow.

Impatience crossed her face. "Yes, and I am freezing," she said angrily. "Of course you are home. You have already said this is Trau."

"No," he said. A chill that had nothing to do with the falling temperature ran through him. "Home. "Home. This is E'non land." This is E'non land."

She stared at him, her eyes slowly widening. "Are you sure?"

He pointed. "There are the mountains. Up there is the glacier I used to ride across as a boy, loving the cold. I called it the top of the world."

"Did you bargain with the Guardian for this?" she asked. "When you communed with it in silence, so that I could not hear what was said, is this what you asked for? Did you think I would be a willing party to this abduction?"

He stared at her, taken aback by her anger. "What?"