Unbroken Chain: The Darker Road

CHAPTER NINETEEN

On the lakeshore, Cree fended off a swipe from one of the animated trees. As far as he could tell, the treants directed the whole forest to attack them, but the animated creatures looked very different from the pines they’d walked among earlier that day. They were taller than man height, their branches and needles twisted and bent to assume a vaguely human shape. Their knobby heads had no eyes or mouths, yet they descended upon the Rashemi in swarms, rough limbs tearing through the warriors’ armor and clawing at their eyes.

“Careful, Brother,” Cree said as he sliced off one of the stabbing limbs before it could land a blow to Skagi’s face. “We can’t afford to lose any more eyes between us.”

“Just keep them back,” Skagi snarled at him, “and check him again.”

“I tell you, he’s gone,” Cree said. He went down on one knee under two of the flailing creatures, but Skagi hacked them away with his falchion. “We need to fall back to a more defensible position, or they’re going to overwhelm us.”

“I’m not leaving him.” Skagi stomped on the animated tree when it fell and hacked at its limbs until it lay in pieces on the ground. “Damn the witches, but I’ll set the whole place on fire before I leave his body to them.”

Cree glanced at Ashok, who still lay prone on the lakeshore. The other Rashemi fought the animated trees, but the treants were breaking through their lines toward the water.

“The torches,” Cree said. “If we can free them from the ice-”

“I already tried,” Skagi said, “while you were trying to revive him. The ice is like stone. I can’t get to the flame.”

“The witches didn’t take any chances,” Cree muttered. He glanced out to the lake. The circle of masked women huddled together. Their chants rose to the night sky. He couldn’t see Ilvani or the child in their midst. He glanced back at Ashok’s body. “They must have done something to him.”

“But why-” Skagi roared in pain as one of the tree spirits raked its branches across his back. He dropped to the ground and squashed the creature beneath him until its wood talons released him. He rolled to one side and let Cree hack the thing to pieces before it could rise up again.

“I don’t know,” Cree said. “It makes no sense. Why would they slay one of their own defenders?”

“Godsdamnit!” Skagi batted aside another of the clawing spirits. “Take me back to the Shadowdark and give me a worthy opponent, not a stick!”

“We have to fall back,” Cree said. “Help me carry him.”

Skagi waved his falchion to push the swarm back long enough to give them an opening. They hoisted Ashok’s corpse between them and carried him to the dock where the Rashemi warriors gathered in a line.

“What are they doing?” Skagi cried.

Cree looked and saw that the gathered warriors had lowered their weapons. Low murmurs escaped their lips, as if they were praying for renewed strength.

“The gods may not be busy, but we could use aid,” Cree shouted angrily. The warriors ignored him and continued their low chant.

“Ah well, time to wade in and choose our deaths, Brother,” Skagi said. He twirled his falchion and spread his hands to welcome the approaching treants.

Cree clapped his brother on the shoulder and looked through his single eye at the mad onslaught of fey. The life flowing through him was like nothing he’d felt since the day they’d run through the caves of Ashok’s enclave with death just a pace behind them.

“Tempus, remember Ashok,” Cree prayed aloud. “He is the warrior, the beast tamer, the soul’s path through the shadows. He is the shadar-kai-and your servant, whether he knows it or not. Praise Tempus.”

“Praise Tempus,” Skagi echoed.

Their prayer ended, and at the same time, the Rashemi’s chant became screams.

Skagi and Cree turned to see the warriors in the full grip of their berserker rage. Their faces contorted, eyes unfocused, the Rashemi howled and attacked the rampaging spirits with renewed energy.

“Gods,” Cree murmured in awe as the sea of violence flowed past him and his brother.

Skagi grinned at him. “We might live through this after all.”

Ashok dodged Sree’s attack and held out his hands. The chain stretched between his fists blocked the dagger blade. He twisted and wrenched the weapon from her hands. It landed in the water and sank. Both of them stared at where the weapon had been, too stunned to move. When Ashok finally looked at Sree, her face was a hard mask almost as unreadable as the wooden one.

“You tried to kill me,” Ashok said. He felt that surge of fear again. “You’re trying to disrupt the ritual. Why?”

“The ritual will continue,” Sree said. “No harm will come to my sisters or Elina.”

“It’s Ilvani,” Ashok said. He took a step forward, clutching the spiked chain until he felt blood on the metal. “You’re after her.”

“I would not have involved you,” Sree said, “but I couldn’t take the chance that you might see what was happening to her and try to intervene. I must destroy the link to Yaraella. It’s the only way to quell the telthors.”

“What about the ritual!” Ashok cried. “Your sisters are trying to do that-”

“They will fail,” Sree said.

“The wychlaran don’t believe that,” Ashok said. “Agny doesn’t know you’re acting on your own, does she? You’re hiding something from all of them.”

“Don’t presume to know our ways, soulless one,” Sree said. “You willingly put yourself in our power. Now I do what I must.”

“It’s Yaraella, isn’t it?” Ashok said. “You don’t want the wychlaran to communicate with her spirit. What will she tell them, Sree?”

The witch looked at him a long time. Resignation crept into her expression, and a guilt so profound it made him want to reach out to her, despite the risk of attack. Ashok could scarcely believe how easy it was to uncover her secrets, now that she no longer wore a mask.

They are so accustomed to having shields, Ashok thought, but this realm, wherever it is, stripped away all the barriers. She can’t hide anymore.

“Yaraella will say that a monster hunts her in death,” Sree said at last, “a monster I created.”

“Yaraella didn’t kill herself, did she?” Ashok said. “It was you.”

“I loved Yaraella. I love her child. But she made a choice, and I had to make one too.”

“You murdered her,” Ashok said.

“You wouldn’t understand because you are not of our people,” Sree said. There was no derision in her tone this time. “This is a harsh land, surrounded by enemies who would see us annihilated or enslaved. The wychlaran are this land’s only defense against that doom. It’s our duty to defend our people. I tried to tell Yaraella this, but she never listened.”

“She was in pain,” Ashok said, remembering Ilvani’s words that night when they’d laid the Tuigan spirit to rest. “Her burden-”

“Would have been eased by her sisters,” Sree cried. “Our magic and guidance could have helped her cope with her powers. We would not have left her alone with the voices of the spirits. Her bond with the spirit realm could have been a powerful tool to drive back the darkness, but she refused to use it in that way.”

“So you killed her for it,” Ashok said, “as punishment?” Her coldness stunned him.

“Not a punishment,” Sree said, “but a means to an end. If Yaraella refused to help us, I knew there was another.”

“You wanted Elina,” Ashok said. “It was about her all along. You wanted her power.”

“If I raise her, I can train her to be the link we need between this world and the spirit world,” Sree said. The passion in her voice bordered on desperation. “Don’t you see? Her gifts are too vital to waste.”

“Are her gifts worth the cost?” Ashok asked. “How many have suffered because of your betrayal? Your sisters are risking their lives to correct your mistakes-”

“I didn’t know the spirits would be angered!” For the first time, Sree’s resolve faltered. Her voice shook. “I acted for the good of all.”

“You spoke of trusting the gods, and all the while you played their part,” Ashok said. “You stood before me, the hypocrite, asking me to have faith.” He laughed at the futility of it all. “It’s certain I have none left now.”

It was Sree’s turn to laugh at him. “Of course you do, soulless one. You scream as one of the faithful, rail at the gods for all the terrible things that happen to your loved ones, and you ask them to change fate. Tempus’s hands are upon you, and now you want to guide His hands, but it doesn’t work that way, mortal man. The gods do not exist to serve our vanity.”

“Then we should be able to change our own fates,” Ashok said. “To make the choices that-”

“Bring death and destruction upon us and those we love,” Sree said. “Yes, Ashok, we all have a choice.” Grief constricted her features for a breath, but she shook it away in anger. “And most of the time, we choose wrongly.”

“I’m sorry for your choices,” Ashok said. “But you can end this now. Tell the others what you’ve done. Put your fate in their hands.”

“They would kill me,” Sree said. “I can accept that fate, but my work is not done. The child must be taught, protected. I knew Yaraella better than anyone. Her child loves me.”

“The child doesn’t know you killed her mother.”

“Her mother squandered her gifts, and she was going to lead her child down the same path. The spirits speak to them. The telthors whispered secrets to Yaraella that they would tell no others. Do you know what that’s worth?”

“No,” Ashok said. “But I’ve seen the other part of that gift. When the spirits won’t stop speaking, and the shadows move constantly, so you don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. I walked in that world for a time, and the terror of the place almost destroyed me. It haunts my dreams even now.”

Sree glanced away, and Ashok saw the look of grief and regret that marked her features.

“When I drove the knife into her, up to the moment I saw the look of hatred in her eyes, I thought I was doing right,” Sree said. “I thought she wanted the kind of peace that only death could bring. She might be terrified for an instant, but then I imagined she would thank me for ending her suffering.”

“But she didn’t,” Ashok said.

“I see the look of hatred she turned on me every time I close my eyes,” Sree said. “I betrayed her. There is no forgiveness for me. The spirits show their hatred by attacking what I love-this village and the people I’ve spent my life protecting. All I have left is to train the child. Elina is the future of our sisterhood. I will teach her to use her gifts and become an othlor. When I’ve accomplished my task, I will join Yaraella in death. No one will be quicker than me to enact punishment on that day.”

Ashok believed her, but it wasn’t enough. “I won’t let you kill Ilvani.”

Sree shook her head. “It’s too late. The poison I put in that vial has already infected your blood. Your companions will think you faded.”

Ashok stepped toward her. He rattled his chain. “I don’t feel any pain,” he said. “Your poison isn’t very effective.”

She gave him a look of pity. “We stand in the realm of the spirits. The witches may bide here for a time, and your Ilvani, too, but it’s no place for you, save in death.”

Ashok stiffened. “You’re lying,” he said automatically. “The ritual-”

“Is happening as we speak,” Sree said. “I can feel the presence of my sisters, the power of the circle. I feel Ilvani too. When I take her, I swear to you it will be fast and painless, just as your death was.”

“No,” Ashok snarled. He took another step forward.

“You can’t harm me here, Ashok,” Sree said, but Ashok saw the uncertainty in her eyes. It gave him hope. His limbs trembled with suppressed anger. He let one end of his chain drop to the raft and snapped the other to strike at Sree’s face.

“Let’s find out,” he said.

The witch dodged the blow but not completely. A red line appeared on her right cheek, and a thin stream of blood ran down her face. She pressed one hand to the wound, and her eyes filled with fury.

“I should have known a creature of shadow would cling to this realm tooth and claw. I’ll see you dragged to the void!” She threw up her hands and spoke words filled with power.

Lightning struck the lake and gathered into a blinding ball that rolled across the surface of the water. Sree clenched her fists, and the ball split and took on the shape of two great hawks-birds made of lightning that swooped down upon Ashok.

Out of instinct, Ashok fell into a crouch and raised his chain. He realized, too late, that metal was the worst defense against such magic. The birds struck him in the chest and legs. His muscles trembled uncontrollably as waves of pain rolled through his body. His heart stopped beating-he couldn’t catch his breath until the white fire rolled through him and dissipated.

Ashok fell heavily on the raft. The pain sharpened his wits, but the lightning still affected his muscles. His body wouldn’t respond when he tried to push himself up. All he could do was curl into a ball as the witch strode toward him, her hands outstretched.

“Some spirits still answer my call,” the hathran said with renewed confidence. “I am the protector of hearth and home, and I have fire too.”

Ashok managed to roll onto his back. He met Sree’s eyes, but then his vision filled with the flames descending from her hands.

Ilvani opened her eyes and found herself in the heart of the storm.

She stood on the raft while the water churned and lightning split the sky. She felt the shock of it in her breast. The sky was black and starless, a void that centered on the lake and moved toward her, swallowing everything in its path.

Yaraella’s monster, Ilvani thought, the force that denies us both peace.

She looked down, and her heart leaped.

The child Elina crouched beside her, a tiny speck in the violence. Ilvani reached for the girl, meaning to put herself between Elina and the storm. The child squirmed away from her grasp and pushed instead toward the heart of the storm, her arms outstretched and eyes full of desperate longing.

In that instant, Ilvani understood everything, and cursed herself for a fool.

Grabbing the child by the arm, Ilvani dragged Elina behind her. Thunder roared across the lake, deafening her, but Ilvani watched the black void descend upon her without fear.

“Little snow rabbit,” she said. “You had more power than I thought.”

Ashok rolled away from the flames, though he smelled his own charred hair and flesh. Again he absorbed the pain-the flames did not burn as hot as those in the nightmare. He laughed aloud.

“Poor, insane creature.” Sree’s voice followed him as Ashok crawled to the edge of the raft to put the flames out in the water. “Haven’t you had enough of pain and suffering? Why won’t you lie down and let the shadows claim you?”

Ashok bent over the side of the raft. A flicker of movement in the deep waters caught his attention. Human shapes rose up all around the raft, floating toward the surface, long pale hair drifting around their beautiful feminine faces. Ashok thought he heard whispers coming from the water.

They were the voices of the spirits-Ilvani’s whisperers.

“You don’t understand,” he told Sree mockingly. He rolled onto his back to extinguish the flames. “You’re not one of our people.”

“Thank the gods for that,” Sree said. She raised her hands again, but a sudden explosion of water extinguished the fire that rolled from her hands. The lake spirits rose up-Ashok counted at least five of them-and snatched at Sree’s hair and cloak. Hissing and cooing, they dragged her across the raft.

“No, wait! I must-” The hathran’s screams echoed in Ashok’s ears. She hurled fire at random. The lake spirits hissed in pain. Two of them dropped back into the water. “I must finish my task!”

Ashok whipped his chain out. The end snagged Sree’s arm. Her casting disrupted, the witch fell to her knees under the weight of the spirits.

“How does it feel to have them clawing at you?” Ashok said. Ruthless, he pulled his end of the chain. Off balance, Sree stumbled to the edge of the raft.

Her eyes wide with shock and terror, she focused on Ashok an instant before the telthors pulled her into the lake. They dragged her beneath the churning water.

Exhausted and trembling, Ashok closed his eyes. He didn’t have the strength to fight them if the telthors decided to take him too. A breath later, he heard the spirits dive back into the depths of the lake. The water from their passing fell on Ashok’s face.

Ilvani, he thought, as his awareness started to fade, the path is clear now. Tempus, grant her peace.

Ashok felt a burst of bitter amusement, that his final thoughts should include Tempus after all. Uwan would be pleased.

“Enough,” Ilvani shouted at the void. “I know your name now-bitterness, rage, pain. Face me and answer for what you’ve done.”

Lightning struck the raft at Ilvani’s feet, throwing her back. The force tore Elina from her-the child cowered at the raft’s edge, terrified. In the wake of the lightning, the void shrank back, and Yaraella stepped onto the raft.

Her hair was wild, and a bloodstain covered the front of her dress. Something of the void lingered in her eyes, turning them black and fathomless like a shadar-kai’s.

“It’s done,” she said, her voice full of such dark satisfaction that Ilvani shuddered. This was not the same woman she had encountered in the pinewoods. Hatred consumed this twisted creature. “I felt her die. Now we can be together, the three of us.”

“You were the monster,” Ilvani said. “No spirit prevented you from passing on from this world.”

“You’re right,” Yaraella said. “I stretched out my hands, and you took them. You anchored me to the world-you and Elina.” Her gaze rested on her child, and the shift in her emotions was stunning. Her face filled with love and tenderness that for an instant transformed her into a pure soul. But Ilvani wouldn’t be fooled again. She knew the threat Yaraella posed now.

“You used my hands for your vengeance,” Ilvani said. She discovered her voice was strangely calm, remote. “Your hate burst out of me and the child and corrupted all it touched. It was my fault,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t know how to see through you. What will you do now, snow rabbit? You have no one left to hate.”

“I will live on in my child and in you,” Yaraella said. She went down on her knees and reached out for Elina. “Our spirits are entwined.”

Ilvani stepped forward to grab the child before she could run to her mother. “It will drive her mad and destroy us just as you’ve destroyed yourself. You’ve been here too long, little dead rabbit. You don’t have a body to go back to, and this child’s is too pure for you.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Yaraella said, her eyes alight with amusement that sickened Ilvani. “I need a vessel that’s already been tainted. What a mad, powerful witch we would make, Ilvani. Wychlaran and shadar-kai-the fey realm and the shadow. No world could hide from us.”

At that, Ilvani smiled. Her reaction gave Yaraella pause. “You want to feel a shadar-kai’s soul? Little rabbit, that knife wound in your belly was nothing to the kind of pain you’ll know at my touch. You should leave this place while you still know yourself.”

Yaraella lunged at her. Ilvani let her clawlike hands fasten onto her upper arms. Yaraella’s black gaze bored into her. Ilvani calmly leaned forward and pressed her lips against the witch’s.

The Veil between the worlds, she thought, is no more difficult to penetrate than the barrier between souls.

Ilvani ripped open the Veil between them.

“First you’ll feel pain,” Ilvani said against the witch’s mouth. She parted her lips and poured blackfire into Yaraella. “If you don’t fight it, the pain can be the lover’s touch. If you resist …”

Yaraella’s body trembled. She held on to Ilvani to keep from falling. The blackfire filled her and spilled out of her eyes and mouth. She coughed and gagged and tried to breathe. Her hands went to Ilvani’s throat.

“Pain … isn’t enough,” Yaraella said, her voice shredded by the fire. She dug her fingers into Ilvani’s throat.

Ilvani reached up and tore the witch’s hands away. She was stronger than the snow rabbit now. “You’re wrong. The pain is everything. You’ll see. My soul is inside you now. You’ll see.”

Yaraella cried out. Ilvani touched the witch’s chest and felt her heart beating a hard, erratic rhythm. Then her awareness narrowed. Her body faded, and she was somewhere else, in the dark.

For a breath, Ilvani faltered. She didn’t know her way. Her soul flew free from her body, absorbed in Yaraella, in the darkness with the touch of the Feywild upon her. She didn’t know this place. What if she lost herself here-trapped and joined to the twisted witch forever? Yaraella would get what she wanted.

Ilvani clenched her hand into a fist and felt an object scrape her palm. In the dark, she couldn’t see it, but she knew what it was-the piece of obsidian Ashok had given her. The difference between what was real and what wasn’t lay with her.

“I’m still Ilvani,” she said. She gripped the stone until it pierced her flesh. The blood flowed like cleansing water. Ilvani let herself go, screaming as she released the pain and the blackfire in a wild rush.

She heard Yaraella’s answering cry of anguish, but she didn’t relent. Her awareness was everywhere. Her soul overwhelmed Yaraella, tearing her apart as the wychlaran had tried to shatter Ilvani.

“This is a shadar-kai soul,” Ilvani said. “Only a shadar-kai can survive the pain.”

When it was over, Ilvani was a long time coming back to herself. She gathered up every piece of her soul, drawing them in protectively to the small light that was her essence.

She was Ilvani, with souls and boxes of memories. Her flesh was the box. All she had to do was keep the box safe, the lid closed.

All the while, she felt Elina’s presence, distant yet always beside her. But when she awoke, the little girl was gone. She was still on the raft, and she felt that the bonds of the ritual still held her.

Why? Ilvani thought. Why hasn’t the circle been broken?

Panic seized her. Had she truly banished Yaraella, or was she still here, holding Ilvani captive?

Then she saw him on the lakeshore-the reason she was still here.

Ilvani kneeled next to Ashok’s lifeless body. She clutched the obsidian stone-her lifeline. It had their blood on it, hers and Ashok’s.

His eyes were closed. His scarred face looked more at peace than she’d ever seen it. She reached out her free hand, her fingers hovering above the skin of his face, his neck, and chest. Shadows bled from his body and encircled her hand.

In a violent motion, she hurled the stone away and tried to grasp the dim vapor with her hands. There was no way to hold it. Her hands were useless again, always useless.

“It’s too easy,” Ilvani whispered. Tears ran down her face, but she barely felt them. Her body was frozen. She couldn’t breathe under the weight of the ice. Playfully, mockingly, the shadows lingered at her fingertips, but when she moved, they scattered. Even her breath drove them away.

She looked up and saw a figure striding toward her across the vast nowhere realm. He had to walk a long way, but when Ilvani saw his face at last, the ice tightened around her heart. Another moment and it would crush her.

“Brother,” she said in a voice dredged up from the deep, frozen sea.

“Well met, Ilvani,” Natan said. The cleric kneeled in front of her, with Ashok’s body between them. He touched Ashok’s chest, and more of the shadows drifted away. “You shouldn’t linger here, Sister. Living people aren’t welcome.”

“Why did He let it happen?” Ilvani asked, her voice trembling.

Natan said gently, “Why don’t you ask Him?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Still stubborn. But you’ve come far, Sister, and I’m proud of you. You’re becoming what you were meant to be.”

“What was he meant to be?” Ilvani said, looking down at Ashok’s dead face. “A shadow in the void?”

Natan’s expression was full of sorrow. “Part of him wanted this, Sister-he welcomed it. Now that Ashok has seen it, a part of him thinks the void is inevitable. Death is the only certainty, so he embraced it harder than ever so the fear of it would not destroy him.”

“Too easy,” she repeated in a hard voice. “Tempus must claim him.”

Mild surprise lit Natan’s face. “Are you asking on his behalf?”

“I shouldn’t have to!” Ilvani cried. “The gods don’t need my plea.”

“Tempus does,” Natan said. “He cannot claim Ashok because Ashok shuns the gods. No one can touch his soul-”

“Then I claim it,” Ilvani said. “By the Veil between this world and all others, I will keep his soul for him, until he decides where it belongs.”

“You don’t have the power to change his fate,” Natan said. “Don’t you remember your own words, Sister?”

“Then what’s the purpose!” Ilvani clenched her hands into fists and watched the shadows fly from her. “Why do I hear the whispers in the dark? Why do the spirits, the telthors, and the hateful ghosts pluck at me? What’s the purpose of making me see things that burn my eyes if I can’t change their fates?”

Natan closed his eyes. A light suffused his skin and flushed the gray color golden. He was so beautiful, his scent so warm and real that Ilvani wanted to bury herself in it and fade away. When he opened his eyes, he looked content, full of something that blossomed from deep within him. Ilvani knew that look well. In life, he’d worn it every time Tempus spoke to him in a vision. The rapture was all the more intense in death. Natan was with her and yet far beyond her reach-he was at one with his god. She felt joy for him and at the same time an intense hatred and envy of Tempus.

“There is a price for what you ask,” Natan said.

“I’ll pay it,” Ilvani said immediately.

Natan sighed. “You were always reckless, Sister.”

I have nothing left to be afraid of, Ilvani thought. “What does Tempus ask?”

Natan’s expression softened. “He wants you to be whole-to know that when you’re alone in the dark, you don’t have to hear the whispers unless you wish to. There are ways to silence the shadows, Ilvani, to see the deceptions in the void. The witches know. Tempus wants you to learn from them. You must find the strength to stand on your own for what’s to come.”

She read the sadness in his eyes and understood. “You won’t come to me again, will you?”

“I’m sorry,” her brother said. “You have everything you need, Ilvani. This last thing I can do for you, I do with joy.”

Ilvani looked down. Natan held his hands out to her across Ashok’s chest. She clasped them, and the sensation almost broke her, it hurt so much. She let one choked sob escape and bent to kiss his knuckles.

“I miss you,” she said.

“And I you.”

The golden light filled Ilvani’s hands. She looked up. Natan was gone, but the light spread from her hands to Ashok’s body and trapped the shadows.

Finally, Ilvani thought. Souls were precious as memories and as insubstantial. But for this one moment, she held them in her hands. She wouldn’t let them fly away.

She flung her arms wide to gather all the shadows.

Ashok awoke to warmth and disorienting silence. He was lying on the raft in the middle of the witch’s circle. Sree was gone. The landscape-the lake and surrounding forest-was serene and quiet.

Logically-if he could use the word-he knew he was dead, that this was some sort of spirit world, a mirror of Rashemen, but he wasn’t afraid. This was nothing like the realm of shadows where his father and brothers waited for him. And he wasn’t alone.

Ilvani lay asleep beside him, her head resting on his chest.

Ashok didn’t move, not wanting to disturb her peace. He felt her warm breath on his skin as she slept. The sky above them was full of slowly moving stars, turning and turning inward toward an inevitable vortex. They flashed red and blue, and they blazed brilliant white against the black field. Beneath the spiral, the moon rose, its crater face spilling milk white pools like waterfalls on the ground. Ashok felt utterly peaceful, but he wasn’t afraid of the sensation. His soul had never felt so fully a part of his physical form-whole and inviolate.

He wondered vaguely how long they would stay in this mirror world. Not long, perhaps, and in a sudden flash of knowledge, Ashok understood that he wouldn’t remember this other realm, its moon, and its gently flowing stars. Nor would he be able to recall this sensation of completeness. He wondered if this was the mythical Feywild spoken of by the witches. Or was he truly dead? Had he shed the physical realm completely to become a pure soul?

But Ilvani was there, an anchor in the peaceful, surreal landscape. Maybe she would be able to explain what it all meant. He was too tired to think about it now, so he let his eyes close. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he felt Ilvani’s hand touch his own. His fingers brushed her skin and the edges of a stone clutched in her palm. He held on to both and slept.

Ilvani awoke from the ritual to violence.

The treants came out of their madness, but not in time to stop their children from destroying the raft and breaking the ritual circle. Ilvani had the sensation of falling and heard the cries of the witches a breath before the lake swallowed all sound.

The freezing water shocked her back to full awareness. She fumbled at the clasp of her long cloak. The weight of the saturated fabric and chains threatened to drag her down, but she ripped the garment over her head and thrust it away.

She started to claw her way to the surface, when she sensed a presence near her in the water. It could have easily been an enemy, but something told her it wasn’t. Without thinking, she dived down and swam. The presence grew more distinct, and Ilvani reached out in the darkness.

She grasped a handful of wet wool, hair, and skin. A feeling of familiarity overwhelmed her. She remembered grasping Yaraella’s arms in her dreams, trying futilely to keep her from the storm’s grasp. Each time, she’d failed to save her. But she could save Yaraella’s child.

Ilvani pulled the girl against her chest and kicked toward the surface. The freezing water deadened her sense of touch. When her head finally broke the surface, Ilvani could barely feel the child she clutched in her arms.

She swam toward the dock, but her strength flagged. When she thought she would go under, hands caught her and hoisted her out of the water. She made out the dim outline of the dock by the torchlight. Someone spoke, and more hands came and took the child from her limp grasp.

Blankets fell on her, the heavy, warm weights settling against her skin and lulling her into a half sleep of exhaustion. Voices echoed above her-sometimes she could understand them, sometimes not.

“Are they all out of the water?”

“Yes, but at least one didn’t survive the ritual.”

“Who?”

“The hathran Sree. Agny is tending to the rest. Her magic won’t let them freeze to death.”

“Then our duty is to see to our own fallen.”

Ilvani thought she recognized the voice of the Rashemi warriors. She fought against unconsciousness, tried to speak, but her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

“What of the shadar-kai?”

“They live; they can see to themselves.”

“One didn’t. I saw his corpse.”

Laughter sounded. “Your eyes deceived you. The corpse walks and breathes. He’s treating the others’ wounds.”

Ilvani relaxed and stopped trying to speak. Ashok lived. Yaraella’s child lived. She thought she could ignore the voices now and sleep.