Not alive.
CHAPTER NINE
The Central Outlands
Eleanon had left, together with those Lealfast who could fly. Axis had no way of
numbering them, but they had made a vast cloud as they lifted into the air and flew slowly
northward.
But however vast that cloud had been, there were still many thousands left on the ground.
Axis had finished stitching Inardle”s wound, and now helped her to her feet.
“There is no chance you can fly?” he said, desperately wanting her to get to safety
somehow.
He knew the answer before she spoke. Inardle was so weak she could barely stand, and
Axis had to support her to keep her upright.
“My wing is too stiff,” she said. “Axis, you should go.”
“I am going to be the only thing that might keep you alive,” he said.
“The woman is right, Axis,” said Zeboath, walking out of the night. “You should go. I”ve
heard that Armat is close. There”s no reason for you to stay.”
“And you?” said Axis.
“There are wounded who need my attention,” said Zeboath, “and—”
“Then I am staying,” Axis said. He began to say something else, but then everyone
stiffened at the sound of a horse”s hooves. They relaxed, if only slightly, when Georgdi rode his
horse into their range of vision.
“Oh, for the gods” sakes,” Axis said. “What are you doing back?”
“I won”t leave you,” said Georgdi. “My men are riding for Serpent”s Nest, and have
orders to gather there along with those other of my men who can leave their families. But you
thought that I would just ride away?”
“You”re dead if you stay,” Axis said.
Georgdi dismounted, patting his horse on the neck once he”d jumped to the ground. “I”m
as dead as you are, Axis,” he said, “which is to say not very much. We”re both too valuable to
Armat, as is Zeboath. No general, even in his most maddened moments, ever killed a physician.”
Axis noted that Georgdi had left Inardle out of the list of those sure to be spared. He
wasted a moment wondering if he”d ever felt this useless before. There were thousands upon
thousands of Lealfast left, desperately wounded, and no means to protect them.
“You did the right thing, Axis,” Georgdi said softly, watching the emotions play about
Axis” face. “There was no point keeping soldiers here to fight. They would have died uselessly.”
“Armat hates me,” said Axis. “He will take it out on—” He couldn”t finish.
“Listen,” said Georgdi.
They stood, listening to the sounds around them: the soft voices of some Lealfast;
someone crying in pain, very quietly; the footfalls of one of Zeboath”s assistants as he moved
from one Lealfast to another.
The sound, very low, of horses” bits.
Axis glanced at Georgdi”s horse, now wandered away a few paces to graze.
The sound hadn”t come from him, and the next moment Axis heard the sound again,
louder this time.
Many horses.
“Armat,” he said.
CHAPTER TEN
On the Road to Serpent’s Nest
Ishbel spiraled down into darkness. She followed the route that the god priests had taken
when first they”d torn the soul from the body of the living man and imprisoned it in the bronze
statue.
She followed the trail of pain.
The pain Ishbel could steel herself against, even though it was frightful— gods, what had
the god priests done to this man? —but it was the sense of despair that almost murdered her. This man, whoever he was, had somehow known from a very early age that this was his fate, and that
he was destined to be abandoned.
The sense of abandonment; that was what was so frightful. This man had been abandoned
in every sense. His parents had turned their backs on him. His brother, also. He”d been sent from
his home—Serpent”s Nest! He had come from Serpent”s Nest!—to this fate, and no one had tried
to save him, or had ever thought of him again.
No one had ever remembered him. He had been lost within the bronze, and no one, no
one, had cared.
Ishbel moaned, and for the longest time it was as if she were trapped again in her parents”
house, the rotting bodies of her family about her, and the bleak crowd outside, shouting at her to
die, die soon, so that they might burn the house.
And turn their backs, and forget her.
Maximilian glanced at StarDrifter, who had shifted uncomfortably, then looked back to
Ishbel. She sat cross-legged, the Weeper resting in her lap, her hands resting gently atop it. Her
eyes were closed, her head very slightly thrown back, a wisp of her fair hair caught across one
cheek. Maximilian wanted to reach out and tuck it behind an ear—it irritated him, that wisp of
hair—but he did not want to break Ishbel”s concentration.
She moaned, very softly, and Maximilian tensed. He looked at StarDrifter, who gave a
slight shrug of his shoulders.
I don’t know. I cannot tell.
Maximilian looked quickly at the rest of the group—everyone had their eyes locked on
Ishbel—then looked back to Ishbel.
There were colors and textures about her now. Initially, Ishbel”s journey had been
through darkness, but after what had felt like endless pain and despair different emotions and
sensations began to trickle in.
Fright.
The man had initially been overwhelmed by pain and despair, but he”d managed to
conquer them, or at least set them partially to one side. But in doing that, he”d allowed other
emotions to beset him.
Fright.
Not so much at what was happening to him, but at the thought that he”d not ever be able
to endure. He”d believed that he wasn”t strong enough, and that he would fail. He”d wept. The
god priests had been torturing him, slowly and with infinite pleasure, and the man had wept. Not
from the pain or the hatred that surrounded him, but from the thought that he”d not be able to
endure.
He”d been sent to suffer this fate for a reason…it was not happenchance that the god
priests had seized him, but someone…someone…His father! His father had sent him.
“Go and be destroyed,” his father had said, “for it will serve my purpose well.”
Ishbel wept.
His father had been the Lord of Elcho Falling.
Venetia sat alone in her tent. Like Ishbel she was cross-legged, her head thrown back a
little, her eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, rapid breaths and her pale skin
gleamed with perspiration.
She was in a forest, following Ishbel down, deeper and deeper into the Weeper.
Into a forest of pain and despair and terror and such aching loneliness that Venetia could
hardly bear it.
Ishbel did not know of it, but Venetia could feel another in that forest, trailing her to one
side, all her attention fixed on Ishbel.
The colors were harsh and textured. They hid shapes, but Ishbel could not determine
them. It was as if she were in a maze of sensation, and she could no longer decide which way she
should go. The path had been clear, now it was muddled.
The god priests had left traps.
Ishbel was starting to sweat now, and was very, very pale. Her hands trembled slightly
where they rested on the Weeper.
I don’t like this, Maximilian thought. He wished he could follow Ishbel, but he did not
have the knowledge or power to penetrate the Weeper.
He wished also that he hadn”t asked Ishbel to do this. It was so dangerous, and
Maximilian very suddenly and very painfully realized how deeply he cared for Ishbel.
“StarDrifter?” he said.
StarDrifter shook his head. “This is magic unknown to me, Maxel. I wish…oh stars, I
wish I could help, but there is nothing I can do.”
Now Maximilian looked to Garth.
“I can”t touch her,” Garth said. “I can”t touch her with my hand or my Touch. Anything
like that will disturb and distract and likely kill her.”
“Hello, Ishbel,” Ravenna said, and stepped through the colors to block Ishbel”s path.
Ishbel stopped dead, forcing herself not to panic and to keep her focus.
“All I need do,” said Ravenna, “is to break your concentration, and you”re trapped here.
Your soul, that is. The rest of you will die when your heart stops.”
“Let me pass, Ravenna.”
“No. I”m sorry, Ishbel. Under different circumstances I think I may have liked you. But
you are so bad for Maxel, and for the land.”
“Ravenna—”
“You can”t attack me,” said Ravenna. “I can see how intently you maintain your
concentration just in conversation. You cannot accomplish anything more without losing the
faint strands of connection back to your own body.”
“Ravenna, I won”t harm Maximilian! All I want is to help—”
“You mean well, Ishbel. I know you do. I am sorry, but the only way for you to help
Maximilian is to die.”
Then Ravenna leapt forward, catching Ishbel about the throat.
Venetia cried out, “Ravenna!”