Authors: Deborah Chester
He could save
Elandra, or he could believe this lying priest possessed the ability to
manipulate the past enough for Lea to be saved.
Caelan clenched
his free hand at his side until his powerful body trembled. Either way, the
price was too high. How could he make such a choice?
“Caelan.” Elandra
whispered his name.
He turned his head
toward her. The way she stood before him would be forever etched in his memory.
Her ivory skin, the flawless beauty of her face, the burnished glints of
candlelight in her auburn hair. Caelan felt emotions stir and awaken in him, a
force fiery and hard to control. It was as though he were suddenly dipped in
heat, his ears on fire and roaring, his eyes burning in their sockets, his
breath seared in his lungs. He stood suspended in the spell of her luminous
eyes, helpless in his new knowledge of himself and her.
Her eyes glistened
as she gazed back at him with understanding and compassion. A tear brimmed over
and fell down her cheek. Still meeting his gaze, she shook her head. “Don’t—”
“Caelan.”
A different voice
uttered his name this time. The sound of it gave him a profound shock. His gaze
snapped away from Elandra, and he saw Lea kneeling on the ground less than two
strides away.
The child crouched
there, hugging herself beneath her scarlet cloak and shivering violently. Her
golden curls straggled from the edge of her hood, as bright and pretty as ever,
but her face was pinched and gray; her lips were bloodless with cold. Dark
smudges lay under her eyes, which were dull with suffering. She was starving to
death, freezing to death. He could feel the icy blast of wind off the glacier.
Its force was brutal, merciless.
Lea whimpered.
Shivering so hard her teeth chattered, she knelt there for what seemed like an
eternity, while he watched helplessly, his grief like a stone in his chest.
Finally she struggled to her feet and walked on, bent nearly double against the
howling wind.
Caelan opened his
mouth, but no sound came out. He could smell the crisp scent of the pines. He
could smell the sickly sweet scent of the child’s skin, and knew it signified
starvation. How long had she been walking in the snowy woods? Her boots were
ragged and worn through. She staggered in a zigzag pattern, floundering in the
deep snow, and fell.
“Caelan!” she
cried, lifting her face to the heavens. “Help me!”
Her plea tore his
heart. With a wordless moan, Caelan ran to her and reached out.
The vision of Lea
vanished as though she had never been there. Anguished, he dropped to his knees
and wept for her.
“I’m sorry,” he
whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“What good are
apologies?” Sien asked from behind him. “You and I can walk around time and go
back to that fateful day in the snowy forests of Trau, when you abandoned the
only person you loved. Save her, Caelan. You seem to have a strong urge to save
people, like an overgrown dog. You could save the empress by turning on me and
striking me down. My spell on the doorway would end, and she could go through.
But why not save the one person who really mattered to you? Why not save the
one person who needed you ? Who depended on you? Lea. A pretty name. A pretty,
precious child. Lea.”
Caelan gulped, his
throat working. “Don’t say her name.”
“Lea.”
He jumped to his
feet and whirled on the priest with insane fury, striking the man with his fist
and sending Sien reeling against the wall. “Don’t say her name!”
The invisible
barrier across the doorway suddenly shimmered into a tangible rainbow of color,
like a bubbled pane of mouth-blown glass. The guardsmen on the other side
blurred and nearly faded from sight.
Dabbing at the
trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth, Sien nodded. “Anger is a
good step. Take another. Embrace the rage, Caelan.”
Caelan glared at
him through a murderous haze, the dagger pulsing as though alive in his fist.
He felt the tug at his emotions, felt the seduction calling to him from Sien.
The need for completion, for
sevaisin,
stirred within him. It would be
so easy to surrender to it, so easy ...
He
severed
,
going deep into the coldness as though he plunged himself into a glacial lake.
This time he did not care if he
severed
so far he could never return.
All he wanted was an end to the hurting, an end to the memories, an end to the
guilty attempts to serve others in atonement. He would put himself where Sien
could never reach him.
A wall of ice
appeared before him. He saw how it separated him from the priest. Through its
transparent sides he could see the priest gesturing, could see Sien’s lips
moving. But he heard no more insidious urgings, no more vile persuasions. He
felt no more temptations. He could not see Elandra at all. There was only the
void and the compelling coldness that made him brittle, calm, and
unapproachable.
In the very great
distance, far, far beyond the wall of ice, he saw a column of icy mist that
eventually transformed itself into the vague figure of a man.
The figure
beckoned to him.
Caelan recognized
Beva, and his heart grew even colder. He did not want his father’s approval. He
had not come into this place to earn that.
Turning his back
on both his father and the priest, Caelan set his face into a bitter wind and
trudged away. He would go deep into the void, never to return. He would vanish.
He would cease to exist. He would escape all responsibility forever.
But before him
stretched the threads of life, a shining network of iridescent strands
stretching into the sky and vanishing out of sight in the gray clouds.
Frowning, Caelan stopped and looked back.
He saw Sien’s
silhouette against the icy mist, a dark shadow standing near the entrance to a
cavern. One of Sien’s hands was outstretched. From each of his fingers
stretched multiple threads, and the black strands were woven across the mouth
of the cavern.
Caelan hesitated
only a moment, knowing that
severance
was his last true secret kept from
the priest. If he used it, Sien would seek him out again to wrest the gift from
him or turn it into something evil.
But there was no
other way. He could not vanish into the void. Escape was not possible, for even
here in
severance
he carried himself with him. All his guilt and
feelings journeyed with him, as though in a basket he could not drop on the
wayside.
Gathering his
strength, Caelan advanced on Sien. He
severed
the threads of the spell.
Fire exploded in the mouth of the cavern, sending him reeling back; then
reality snapped around him, and he found himself stumbling into the corridor
wall. Gasping, he pressed his hands to the wall and struggled to regain his equilibrium.
To his right,
Elandra stood staring at him with her hands pressed to her mouth. Her eyes were
huge with fear and something he could not identify.
Sien was huddled
down, swearing to himself and clutching his hand. The skin was charred black,
as though he had stuck it into a fire.
Regaining his
wits, Caelan strode to the doorway and stepped through it. He paused there and
glanced back at Elandra.
He reached out to
her. “Come. Quickly.”
She hesitated,
still staring at him as though he was a monster, but she came. Slowly at first,
then running the last few steps. She clutched his hand, and he pulled her
through the doorway.
The cavern rang
with noise as men hurried about their tasks. There were fewer soldiers than
Caelan had hoped to see. Too few, in fact, but at that moment he didn’t care.
Relieved, he
smiled down at Elandra. The fear vanished from her eyes, and she smiled back.
Then her smile faded, and she looked troubled again. She squeezed his hand. “Your
sister—Lea—what Lord Sien said about her—”
“He was lying,”
Caelan said, forcing his voice to be light. “Think no more about it.”
She searched his
eyes. “Are you sure? I—”
“The empress!”
someone shouted. “Look! It’s her Majesty. She’s alive!”
Elandra broke off
what she’d been about to say and dropped Caelan’s hand. She frowned, looking
flustered.
He bowed to her. “Go
to your husband, Majesty. Let him know you are safely delivered.”
Several
expressions flitted across her face. Finally she smiled again. “Thank you,” she
said with heartfelt sincerity. “I shall never forget all you have done for me.”
Then she was gone,
hurrying into the confusion only to be met by Sergeant Baiter, who saluted her
with a beaming smile and led her toward the emperor’s banner.
Caelan watched her
for a moment, filled with the bittersweet satisfaction of knowing this time he
had done the right thing. He had not failed his true responsibilities.
“Caelan E’non.”
Startled, he
turned and warily faced Sien. The priest stood on the other side of the
doorway, gazing out at him.
Still nursing his
burned hand, Sien looked wide-eyed and astonished. “You vanished,” he said. He
reached out his hand, then drew it back without touching Caelan. “For an
instant, as I was talking to you, you simply ceased to exist. Where did you go?
How did you break the power of Beloth to stop the spell?”
Caelan stared hard
at him without any emotion at all. “You have already taken all the answers you
will ever get from me.”
Anger replaced the
astonishment in Sien’s leathery face. “Impertinent fool! You are trampling on
that which you do not understand. You—”
“She is out of
your hands,” Caelan broke in. “Whatever meddling you wrought with Kostimon’s
mind to make him forget her has ceased to work. She is back where she belongs,
despite your plots, shadows, invaders, and spells.”
Fury twisted Sien’s
face. He lifted his burned hand as though to hurl magic at Caelan. “Yo—”
Caelan sprang at
him and gripped his injured hand, squeezing it with all his strength.
A strangled scream
of agony burst from Sien. He crumpled at Caelan’s feet without resistance.
Caelan released
him and stood glaring down at the man without any mercy. “Save your spells for
the Madruns,” he said harshly. “Conceal this entrance once again, so that when
they come at last to this cavern, they will never find it. Nor will they find
the secret ways. Nor will they follow where Kostimon goes.”
Breathing hard,
his eyes still slitted with pain, Sien glared up at him. “You dare order me?”
“I dare,” Caelan
said coldly. “I could have taken your life as easily as I took away the spell.
Remember that you called me a taker. Remember that you taunted me for enjoying
what I do. Now consider our new bargain. You will conceal this cavern so that
when the savages come, they will look but never see what lies here. Do it, or I
swear I will destroy you.”
Hatred filled Sien’s
face. “You cannot!” he boasted hoarsely. “Not while I serve the darkness.”
“Can you find the
darkness now?” Caelan mocked him. “Can you feel it strong and powerful within
you as it was a few moments before? While its connection to you is withered and
damaged, you are merely a man. Nothing more.”
Sien’s scowl
deepened. Finally, resentfully, he nodded. “Very well, I shall do as you say. I
have enough strength left to cast the spell that you request. But this is not
the last of us, Traulander. When I am once again fully rejoined with my master,
I shall hunt you down. No matter how far you journey, I will find you. Remember
that I have a piece of you. It will lead me to you, anywhere on this earth, or
beyond it.”
Caelan listened to
his threat without fear. He thought of that future encounter and knew he would
welcome it. Right now, as much as he would like to finish Sien once and for
all, he knew it was not the time. They needed Sien and his despicable dark magic
to fool the Madruns searching for them.
Meeting Sien’s
gaze, Caelan held it a long while, until the priest’s gaze dropped first. Color
suffused Sien’s cheeks, and he started to say something else, but Caelan was
finished with the man. It was time to seek out the emperor, time to rejoin his
fellow guardsmen, time to resume his duty.
There was, after
all, an empire to rebuild.
Turning his back
on the defeated priest, Caelan walked away.