Page 17 of Heart of the Shadow King

I know who they are. The citizens of Hoknath. First caught in a cloud of poisonous gas that rose from the deeps of the world, then trapped by the dark magic of theva-jorceremony performed with the blood of an unwilling sacrifice. So they remain, neither dead nor alive, but in this state between.

There are so many of them. Hundreds, thousands. All those suffering souls, imprisoned in their madness, their rage. Horror floods my spirit. It’s too much. I want to flee this realm, to hurtle through the veils of reality back into a world of physical matter where I need not be faced with such abomination. But how can I abandon them? These are my people. Citizens of the Under Realm, children of the Deeper Dark.I must help them.

Warily I approach the nearest lumpen mass. Strands of white hair brush its shoulders, the only outward sign of the living being it once was. Why do I feel as though I know her? Memory fills my mind: dark water closing overhead, manic eyes staring up at me from an otherwise immobile face. Yes, I’m sure of it—she is the woman from Lake Hoknath, the one who tried to pull Hael under. Still trapped in this stone form, still suffering the rages ofraogpoison.

I reach out, tearing at the stone over her face with my bare hands. A useless endeavor. Channeling all the strength I can from theVulug Ugdth,I pound with my fists, desperate to break through. Useless, useless! I venture deeper into the crowd of thousands, tearing at this one, pounding at that. All to no avail. The whole force of my will has no effect on this spell. A world away, my physical body bows, bends, threatens to break. My lifeforce strains, barely held together by the song and the crystal. But I cannot stop. I cannot go back to my own world, leaving these people to suffer.

Their voices creep in on the edges of my awareness. Small at first but growing louder and louder into a storm of pain and fury.

YOU DID NOT SAVE US.

YOU LEFT US.

YOU LEFT US SUFFERING.

WE BURN.

WE ACHE.

WE DIE.

WE LIVE.

All those voices in my mind, echoing and reechoing, driving out thought and reason.

WHERE WERE YOU WHEN WE NEEDED YOU?

WHEN THE POISON FILLED OUR CITY?

WHEN WE TURNED ON ONE ANOTHER?

WHERE WERE YOU WHEN WE SLAYED OUR FRIENDS?

OUR PARENTS?

OUR CHILDREN?

WHERE WERE YOU WHEN WE DIED YET COULD NOT DIE?

“I’m here!” I cry, throwing the words to the tumultuous ether above. “I’m here now! And I will help you. I will not leave you.” But my voice cannot penetrate the stone. I feel as though I’m sinking. As though the ground beneath me is slowly falling away, and I am going with it, and all those souls of Hoknath will fall on top of me, crushing me under their terrible weight. Because I could not save them. Because I—

“Vor.”

Hands grasp mine.

I open my eyes, stare into a face so near to me. She is pale and phantom-like, a shadowy image in this world of harsh light and black stone. But I would know her anywhere, in any world.

“Faraine!” Her name bursts from my lips like a prayer. “What are you doing here?”

She smiles that small, gentle smile I’ve come to know so well. “I am your queen. Remember?” With those words, she stands, turns, and surveys the enstoned dead. “They are in pain.”

Is their pain causing her pain in turn? She told me once about the nature of her gods-gift, how the emotions of others influence her body and soul. Surely suffering on this magnitude is far beyond her ability to bear. “Faraine,” I say, my voice deep and urgent, “you must go. There are too many of them.”

She shakes her head. Stretching out her other hand, she touches the nearest of the stone figures, a massive, hunched trolde man. Vibrations ripple through her, through me, pouring out from the world where the song and the crystals reverberate together into this realm of existence. I feel the delicate filaments of my being hum and strain, ready to snap. “Faraine!” I cry. “Faraine, stop! It’ll kill you.” I try to yank her back, to wrench her away from that stone. But she will not be moved. It’s as though she too has become stone. She merely turns and looks at me. Both her eyes shine brilliant blue.

“Together,” she says.

The song of theVulug Ugdthswells. I hold her tight, still trying in vain to rip her away and hurl her back into our world. But there’s no stopping this now. Her gods-gift takes the power offered by the crystal and the song, channels it profoundly through her small frame. But it passes through me first, and I pray it will not shatter her to pieces.

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