“The seer made no mention of it. However, it was clear to me he thought it best left buried.”
The queen gave a slight nod, her gaze moving across the statues until it rested on the bearded man. “This is truly him?” she asked with a dubious glance at the Ally, who had begun to whimper.
“Yes, Highness.”
“How far we can fall,” she mused softly, eyes returning to the noble lines of the bearded man’s face, “if we surrender to malice.” She turned back to the stone, gesturing for Frentis to bring the Ally.
He railed. He screamed. He struggled, collapsing and clawing at the floor with his nails, obliging Vaelin to assist his brother in dragging him to the stone where he thrashed himself to exhaustion, eventually sagging between them, head lowered as he wept piteous sobs. “Just,” he gasped, “Just kill me . . . All my gifts are gone, the Beyond will not snare me.”
“That would require the death of the body you stole,” Vaelin replied. “And I made a promise to its owner.”
“You are a fool!” The Ally’s head snapped up, spittle flying as he lurched at Vaelin. “You don’t know what this thing is!”
“A gateway to another place, somewhere I suspect you will be more at home.”
“You don’t understand.” His eyes widened as they played over the smooth surface of the stone, unblinking, fixed in terror, his voice dropping to a grating whisper. “When I touched it, when I received my gift, I looked into that world . . . and something looked back, something vast, and hungry.”
Vaelin looked at the Ally’s sweat-covered face, his unblinking eyes, seeing no vestige of a lie. He began to demand clarification but Lyrna reached out to take hold of the Ally’s wrist. “Then let’s feed it,” she said, slamming his hand to the stone.
There was no sound, no glimmer of light from the blank depths of the stone, not even the faintest change to the musty air of the chamber. The Ally gave a short intake of breath then froze, Vaelin seeing the light fade from his eyes, features soon becoming slack, devoid of all animation.
They held him in place a moment longer, Lyrna’s gaze searching the empty features of what had been Erlin’s face. Vaelin released him and stood back, Frentis and Lyrna also retreating from the still and silent man as his hand slid limp to his side.
“Well,” Reva said, tapping her boot against the stone. “What do we do with it?”
? ? ?
“The mountain folk will not be so friendly this time.”
“Rather them than the big water.” Alturk threw a blanket across his horse’s back and settled the saddlebags over it. The Tahlessa moved with a noticeable limp these days, alleviated slightly by the salve Brother Kehlan had provided to anoint his wound, the only gift he would accept from the Merim Her. “And we have him to speak for us.” Alturk jerked his head at Lekran, bidding farewell to Frentis a few strides away.
The former Kuritai had caused something of a stir when presented to the queen the day before, failing to bow and instead making a formal declaration of love and proposal of marriage. She had listened patiently to his lengthy list of victories, his apologies for not providing the heads as proof, and confident assurance that, should she agree to the union, he would happily kill the requisite number of enemies in less than five years, his life being forfeit should he fail.
“Only a thousand?” she had asked, breaking the tense silence that followed. “Make it three and I’ll deign to consider it. In the interim you can have a captaincy in my guard and I’ll make you ambassador to your people. Go back to the mountains and tell them the slaving days are over and we’ll pay a fair price for whatever metals they care to sell us.”
“You truly intend to brave the ice once more?” Vaelin asked Alturk.
“The shaman says it’s easier in summer months. And it will make a fine story.” He tightened a strap on the horse’s bridle and paused. “She was a good woman,” he said. “I will be proud to tell her story and have it placed in the Mahlessa’s library. For she was Lonak, and we should not forget our kind, whatever names they choose.”
Vaelin stood back as the Tahlessa climbed onto his horse, hefting his war club. “Thank you.”
Alturk looked down at him, eyes arch beneath his heavy brows. “One day . . .” he began.
“The Lonak will sweep the Merim Her into the sea,” Vaelin finished. “I know.”
“No.” Alturk shook his head. “One day the Lonak will fade, scattered and slaughtered in war or our blood mixed with the Merim Her until our stories are forgotten. It will be so with the Seordah, the Eorhil, the ice people and the mountain folk. I see it now. The Mahlessa has been trying to shield us from our fate, we have become like stones clinging to a mountainside. But the mountains always shake, and the stones always fall.”