Sara Douglass. The Twisted Citadel. DarkGlass Mountain: Book Two

She tried to move faster, move to where she could see the forms of Ishbel and Ravenna

struggling deeper within the forest of memory and pain, but, oh, it was so hard to move, so hard,

and Venetia struggled to maintain both her determination to reach Ishbel and Ravenna, and her

hold on the life force of her body that lay slumped in its tent.

Ishbel closed her eyes. Ravenna had her by the throat and was strangling her, but Ishbel

did nothing to throw off the woman. She focussed her entire being on holding her concentration,

on her desperately fragile hold over the links which led back to her body, and on ignoring

Ravenna as best she could.

That was difficult, given that Ravenna was sinking her fingers deeper and deeper into her

throat.

Ishbel? Ishbel jerked, her eyes opening.

Ishbel? Hold on just a moment, hang on to my voice. Help is coming.

It was the Weeper, or the soul which inhabited it, and Ishbel clung to the sound of his

voice with all her strength. He kept talking, murmuring her name over and over, his voice

forming a pathway of light deeper and deeper into the sorceries that bound him.

Ravenna tightened her grip, strengthening her efforts to either kill Ishbel or force the

woman to lose her concentration and her hold on her physical body.

Then, unbelievably, Ravenna let go, staring over Ishbel”s shoulder in amazement.

Venetia was there, fighting with everything she had to maintain her own concentration.

“Stop,” she said to her daughter. “Are you mad, to so dishonor the marshlands and your

mother?”

Ravenna was, for the moment, so shocked by her mother”s appearance that she did

nothing.

“Run,” Venetia said to Ishbel. “Run now, and leave me with my daughter.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Central Outlands

Axis SunSoar. Where the glory now, eh?” Armat lifted a leg over the wither of his horse

and slid to the ground.

All around Axis could hear columns of horsemen moving to surround the wounded

Lealfast.

Armat came to stand directly before Axis, who was still supporting Inardle. Armat looked

at her, then back at Axis.

“They”re very pretty, Axis,” Armat said, “but what in the world ever made you think they

could fight? They have shamed you…or…is it that they are but a reflection of your own

shameful lack of ability?”

Axis said nothing.

Again Armat slid his eyes back to Inardle. “They are pitiful. Pathetic.” He moved his

eyes about the group. “Georgdi, and Zeboath. Is this all that is left?”

“You will not catch the others,” said Georgdi.

“Was that a challenge?” Armat said, a smile of what appeared to be genuine amusement

on his face. “I do not need to catch the others, Georgdi. Not just yet. Looks like there is work for

me to do here. Why did you stay?”

“I would not leave the wounded,” said Axis.

“Ah, he speaks,” Armat said. “And so nobly. „I would not leave the wounded.” Just this

one, Axis,” he nodded at Inardle, “or do you feel emotional toward the entire lot?”

“They are my responsibility,” Axis said.

“Not for much longer,” Armat said, and he lifted a hand to signal to his men.

“Stop!” said Axis. “For gods” sakes, Armat, these wounded are of no danger to you.

They—”

“They are lying here dying in slow degrees,” said Armat. “I am merely being efficient in

hurrying them along a little. Even if I were not here, Axis, what could you do to aid them?

Zeboath is a good man, but by the gods, even this lot might stretch his capabilities.” He lifted his

hand again, then brought it down in a swift movement.

Axis did not so much hear as sense the movement in the dark behind him. He thrust

Inardle into Zeboath”s arms, then took several steps toward where the mass of Lealfast were

lying.

There were shapes moving through the darkness, bending down to the first ranks of the

Lealfast.

“No!” Axis cried. “For the gods” sakes, stop this—”

Then there came a great blow to the back of his head, and the darkness consumed him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

On the Road to Serpent’s Nest

Ishbel”s body jerked, and her hands half raised.

Dark bruises appeared about her throat.

Ravenna. Maximilian almost panicked. He knew instantly what it was—Ravenna had

managed to follow Ishbel deep into the Weeper—but he had no idea what to do. To touch Ishbel

could be catastrophic.

StarDrifter had started forward, but Garth held him back.

“Don”t touch her,” Garth said. “Don’t touch her! ”

“Oh gods, Ishbel,” Maximilian murmured. He was on one knee before her, one hand

partly extended. Ishbel…

Ishbel”s breath wheezed in her throat, and then, suddenly, just as Maximilian thought he

could not bear it any longer, her entire body relaxed, her breathing grew easy, and the bruises

about her throat, although they did not vanish entirely, became far less marked.

Maximilian”s shoulders slumped in relief, and he allowed his hand to rest on Ishbel”s

knee, knowing instinctively that his touch would no longer disturb her.

“Maxel,” Garth said, his voice tight. “Look at the Weeper.”

It was icing over.

There was a battle going on behind her, but Ishbel ignored it. Any further distraction and

she knew she”d lose her focus.

She followed the voice, now almost a soft litany in her mind— Ishbel, Ishbel, Ishbel—like

a pathway. The sorceries still twisted about her, the pain and despair and terror still battered at

her, but the man”s voice tolled like a temple bell on a snowy night.

All she had to do was to concentrate on his voice.

Then, suddenly, horrifically, death seethed down behind her.

Maximilian cried out, jerking to one side as Ishbel”s face and body spattered with blood.

In an instant Garth was at his side, one hand grabbing at Maximilian”s shoulder. “It isn”t

her blood, Maxel. It isn’t her blood!”

Maximilian forced himself to look at Ishbel, sure he would see her slack in death, despite

what Garth had said.

But Ishbel wasn”t dead. Instead, she wore a faint smile on her face.

Death surged up behind her, then as suddenly receded, and Ishbel was free. She fled

down the path, following the light of the man”s voice.

“Ishbel? You must be able to hear me audibly now. Can you see my hand?”

“Yes, yes, I can see it. Where is Ravenna?”

“Too far behind now to catch you.”

“Venetia?”

“She is dead. I am sorry. Come, take my hand.”

“She saved my life.”

“Yes, she did. Ishbel. Come, come, take my hand.”

Then, suddenly, there it was, and Ishbel reached out and took it in both of hers.

Everyone in Maximilian”s command tent jumped and cried out in surprise as the bronze

statue in Ishbel”s hands suddenly exploded into thousands of tiny pieces.

Maximilian grabbed at Ishbel, pulling her head against his shoulder and shielding her

face from the flying shards of metal. He closed his own eyes and turned his face aside, hoping

everyone inside the tent would escape the flying shrapnel. Several of the shards caught one of his

cheeks, causing some minor scratches, but when he opened his eyes again he saw that no one had

suffered any serious injuries by the disintegrating bronze statue.

He blinked, using his free hand to brush some of the debris out of his hair, and looked

about, expecting to see…well, someone extra.

There was no one.

Very carefully, Maximilian looked at Ishbel. She was breathing easily, but was not

conscious. Garth raised an eyebrow at Maximilian, then laid a hand on one of hers at

Maximilian”s nod.

“She is all right, Maxel,” Garth said. “For the moment she is in a deep sleep—a reaction

against where she has been, and the effort it took. My guess is that she will sleep for several

hours at least.”

“Thank you,” Maximilian said. “Salome, Garth, can you look after her for the moment?”

Then he rose, and left the tent.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

On the Road to Serpent’s Nest

What have you done?”

Ravenna turned about as Maximilian entered her tent. “You speak so harshly to me,” she

said.

Maximilian barely managed to keep his anger under control. Gods, the nerve of the

woman! She stood so pale, her eyes so huge, her hand just so faintly trembling as it hung at her side, and all of it, he knew, was pretense.

“You tried to kill Ishbel,” he said, coming to a halt and trying, largely unsuccessfully, to

keep his hands from clenching at his sides.

“I tried to help you.”

“You—”

“Maxel, please, listen to me! I know you love Ishbel, but—”

“Do you have any idea how sick I am of hearing this petty chorus?”

“You have seen the vision! Do you have any idea of how heartsick I am that you continue

to ignore it?”

Maximilian half turned away, hands now on hips, smothering a curse.

“Ishbel loves you, but she will murder you, Maxel, and murder Elcho Falling. Nothing

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