Page 89 of Vow of the Shadow King

Suddenly, I feel a blast of cool air on my face. The next moment the opening comes into view, a circle gazing out into the awful vastness of the Surface World sky. Distant stars twinkle in their celestial dance above. It’s enough to make my heart quail.

“Drag-or!”I growl and drive Knar on, between the massive tooth-like stalactites, up to that patch of sky. The morleth gnashes his teeth. Sparks shoot from his nostrils.

The next moment, we emerge in a cloud of smoke, up from the rock and soil, streaking straight out into that terrible night. My senses whirl, sick with dread as I feel all that openness around me. After everything else I’ve recently endured, this is almost too much to bear.

I haul on Knar’s reins, reclaiming control. He puffs and growls but obeys when I guide him back down. We skim above the tall grasses. Knar’s cloven hooves shred through the delicate flowers, tossing leaves and petals, but never touch solid ground. The world around is all very wide and wild and barren, rolling fields beneath open sky, purple with twilight and alight with a million stars. I remember vividly what it was like to ride under such a sky on my way to Beldroth. I remember the sensation of Faraine’s fingers lightly touching the back of my wrist, the sudden calm which came over me. I’d guessed at the time that she’d worked her gods-gift on me. But I never dreamed the true potential of her power.

We leave the fields behind at last and come to a rocky place. There I search for the signs Ar described. It would be easier to fly higher and look from above, but I fear I might miss my destination entirely in this unfamiliar world. Down low, the pathway markers are easier to detect—large, gaudy red flowers on tall green stalks. Fire lilies. Their finger-length petals reach like hands to the heavens, gleaming unnaturally bright in the twilight.

I turn Knar’s head. We pursue the path the lilies mark. They grow at intervals, tucked away, half-hidden among the rocks. I must take care not to miss them. I hate this pace, hate the moments I feel slipping away. Faraine grows colder in my arms, but I won’t let go of hope. Not yet.

At last, I spy a stone hut with a rough-thatched roof perched on an outcropping, just as Ar had described. Warm light glows from the small windows. Orange light; sunfire rather than moonfire.

I stop Knar with a word and slip from the saddle, careful not to jostle Faraine more than necessary. Leaving the morleth behind to chomp on lilies, I stride up the rest of the narrow path and come to a halt just beyond the reach of the light. “Maylin!” I cry. “Mistress Maylin! I seek your aid.”

For a long moment, no answer comes. Blood throbs in my ears. This was a mistake. I should never have come to this place. I should turn around right now, flee while I still can. Before that door opens, before . . .

I growl, shake my head hard. What cowardice is this? “Maylin!” I shout again. “I command you: come forth!”

“Command me, do you?” A flicker of shadow passes across one of the windows. The next moment, the door creaks slowly open. “Far be it for me to deny the commands of a king.”

My heart leaps to my throat. In the doorway stands a small, slim, slightly stooped figure in a deep hood and heavy cloak. She rests her weight on a crooked walking stick. Her hands tremble slightly. Though her back is to her fire, the many-stranded crystal necklace she wears glints and shines, illuminating the lower half of her face, her jaw, her mouth.

She seems to study me, her eyes hidden by the shadow of her hood. At long last, her lips part.“Grakol-dura,King Vor,” she says, her troldish strongly accented but understandable. “I wondered if you would someday find your way to my doorstep.”

I widen my stance as though for battle. “I’ve come with one purpose and one alone. I wish neither to speak nor to barter.” I lift Faraine slightly. Some of the orange light falls across her still face. “I need you to reconnect this woman’s living soul to her body. I will pay whatever price you demand.”

The woman’s chin tilts as she redirects her hidden gaze. I feel the intensity of her scrutiny like an electric charge in the air. After a moment, she ventures forward, her cane tapping on the stones of the path. Her movements are slow, awkward, a little pained. Though she is small, she casts a long shadow before her. I shiver when it falls across me. She draws near enough that I could reach out and touch her if I dared, then moves her hood back slightly, revealing the barest glimpse of her cheek and nose. The sight twists my heart. I look away quickly. Unconcerned, she bends over Faraine, studies her closely,hmmmingsoftly to herself. Finally, she lets her hood drop back into place. “So. She used the Urzulhar stones, did she?”

I nod.

“Overextended herself. The resonance ripped right through her I’m afraid.”

I don’t pretend to understand. “Whatever she did, she did to defend Mythanar. She saved them all. My city. My people.”

The woman tilts her head back, her unseen eyes fixed on my face once more. The line of her jaw tightens. It’s such a familiar sight, my throat thickens. I hastily avert my gaze, looking down at Faraine.

“I felt the recent stirrings,” the old witch says at last, her voice a little softer. “There was a bad one a few days ago, yes? I felt it all the way up here on the surface. Mythanar hasn’t got much time left.”

“That is not your concern.” The words snap from my teeth like a bite. “You need only name your price, witch. Tell me how to save this woman.”

She sighs and shakes her head slowly. Then: “There may be something I can do. But it won’t be pleasant.”

I frown. “Will it hurt her?”

The witch snorts. “She’s already dead. How much more do you think I can do to her at this point?”

Still, I hesitate. Dead or alive, I don’t want to do anything to cause Faraine distress. If she’s already beyond pain, is it not kinder simply to let her go?

But no. No! I won’t do it. Not until I’ve had a chance to tell her the truth. To speak all the things I should have said hours ago when I had the chance. Before the stirring, before the horror, before the deaths and devastation. When we were just two people lying in a tumble of limbs atop rumpled blankets. I should have spoken, even as my lips explored her body and my hands caressed her skin. I should have murmured the words as I slipped down to her secret places, as I made her moan and writhe. Or when we lay together after, when I gazed into her face, alight and shining with warmth, with passion.

All those moments, lost forever, recklessly wasted. Yet, here I am. Begging the gods for one moment more.

“Do what you must,” I growl.

A low, knowing,“Hmmmm,”sounds from beneath that dark hood. Then the witch steps back and waves a hand. “Lay her down. Gentle as you can.”

I hasten to obey. The witch kneels beside Faraine and opens the front of her gown, exposing her pale bosom. From her own neck, she takes a glowing strand of crystals and drapes them across Faraine’s body. Carefully, she positions the largest crystal over her heart. This done, she looks up at me. I catch a flash of her golden eyes. “This part may be unpleasant.”

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