Page 92 of Heart of the Shadow King

“Watch out!” Hael grabs me by the collar and yanks me back just before a small avalanche crashes into the space where I stood. Coughing, we wave our hands before our faces to clear the dust, while Theodre sputters curses. But when the cloud clears, it reveals a way through the passage. I take a lunging step, only for Hael to lay a hand on my shoulder. She’s too weak to restrain me, but she catches my eye. “What are you going to do?” she asks.

“Find Faraine.”

“Do you know where she’s gone?”

I don’t. But something tells me she’ll be drawn back to that same place I have twice before found her. It’s like the gods themselves keep driving her there, though for what purpose I cannot comprehend. “I have an idea,” I say darkly.

Hael’s grip on my shoulder tightens. “You cannot stop her, Vor.”

“She’s already enstoned our people, Hael,” I growl. “What more do you think she can do?”

Though her arm shakes with weariness, her grip doesn’t slacken. “She is theAlmuth tor Grakanak.The Fist of the Deeper Dark. She will stop Arraog’s rise. She will save us.”

I wrench away, staggering several paces as I shake my head. “She is not what you think she is. She is not some tool of the gods.”

“You cannot stop it, Vor. No one can.”

My teeth grind in a grimace. “Watch me.”

Pivoting on heel, I leap for the opening even as the floor and ceiling begin to shake once more. “Find a morleth!” I toss back over my shoulder, uncertain she can hear me above the roar of breaking stone. “Meet me at the Urzulhar Circle. If I’m not there, then make for the surface and get out of here. Get out before the end. That’s an order, Captain!”

39

FARAINE

Maylin leads me to a crack in the world. There she stops, swaying as the ground trembles again, threatening to throw her down. Her hood is back, her white hair loose and phantomlike in the weird semi-darkness of dust anddimness.

“Here, girl,” she says, turning to me. “Here is where you must make your descent.”

I wait for the tremor to pass before I approach the cleft. Looking down, I expect to see jagged stone, a newly-opened fissure, like so many others now ripping through these gardens. But my eyes are met with . . . a stairway. A long stairway, leading straight down. It’s so natural, one could easily believe it was shaped by the forces of the world, not carved by any hand. It looks as though it’s been waiting for millennia only to be revealed now as this world comes apart.

“Did you think the Urzulhar was enough for what you must do?” Maylin studies me closely as though trying to read my face. There’s nothing to read—no fear, no surprise. No emotion. I am empty. I amjor.I merely observe what is without feeling. “Queen Org of ancient days built all of Mythanar around the Urzulhar,” the old witch continues, her matter-of-fact voice underscored by the threatening rumble underfoot. “But those outer stones were merely the topmost branches. The true heart stone lies below.”

No light penetrates beyond the first few steps. Further down is complete darkness. But I don’t mind. I don’t need light to see. Not anymore. “What will I do when I find the heart stone?” I ask.

“You must use it to connect to all otherurzulin this world. Only the combined resonance will generate enough power for ava-jorof this scale. Then you will bind Arraog in stone.”

I nod. Though I’ve never attempted a working of this magnitude, there’s a certainty about this moment. Of course, I was brought here. Of course, I must do this. Did not the gods ordain it?

The world shakes. Maylin plants the end of her walking stick, just catching her balance, still poised on the brink of that drop. Though she wears nojor,her eyes blaze bright gold, flaring with her gift. She fixes those eyes on me, holding me in her gaze until the stirring passes. Then: “It’s time to give it all up, my girl. Let go of anything that binds you to your fleshly form, even your love for Vor. It is a powerful thing, true love. But if you would save him, you must release him.” She grimaces, the lines of her haggard face gruesome with grief. “That is where I failed. I could not give Zur up. Not even when he begged me to with his dying breath.”

Reaching out with one arm, she catches my chin in her hand. The sharp edges of jutting crystals cut into her unprotected skin. Blood wells, drips, and the shattered Urzulhar stirs in response, hungry still. “Do this for me, child,” she says. “Do this for him. For my Zur. For my Vor.”

I drop my gaze to those splashes of blood at our feet. “What of the sacrifice?” I ask. “What of the lifeblood?”

“It will be provided.” The witch lets go of me and takes a step back, gripping her staff with both hands. “Leave that to me.”

The world moves again. A blast of hot air erupts from below. All Mythanar seems to scream in pain. Myjorprotects me, but Maylin is vulnerable. She shrieks and staggers, blisters bubbling across her exposed skin. I reach for her, some distant part of my soul still capable of concern. But she curses and flings out a burned arm, pointing one trembling finger. “Go! Go now! Find the heart stone and join with it. Save this world,kurspari-glur.”

I draw back, staring into the pain-maddened eyes of this woman, who has been my teacher. This woman who has shaped and molded me according to her will. This small, compact force of spirit who would even now throw herself headlong into battle against one of the Great Dragons. If in that moment I could love her, I would. If I could hate her, I would do that as well. I would fear her, pity her, wish to comfort and calm her.

But I feel none of these things. Not anymore.

I turn, face that dark stairway. Then I begin my slow descent into the depths of this world, even as shimmering heat ripples around me, and the stone crust of myjorhide glows red. Within a few paces, I leave all light behind.

40

VOR

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