Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [11]
“Get back,” the priest said fiercely. He held up a goblet, and Elandra could see ruby-colored wine swirling inside it. “Drink this. Majesty.”
“Help me,” Kostimon begged piteously. “I am fainting. I cannot go on—”
“You will be well again,” the priest assured him, holding the goblet to his lips. “Drink deeply. This will restore you.”
Kostimon’s fingers groped and clasped the rim of the goblet. He drank noisily, choking on the liquid.
Glancing at the guardsmen who had already drunk the potion, Elandra did not like their glazed looks and semivacant faces. “They look drunk!” she cried. “What have you given them?”
“Forgetfulness,” Lord Sien replied smoothly.
She gasped at the sound of his voice and glanced around swiftly. He was nowhere to be seen, yet his voice was unmistakable.
The priest, thin and serious of expression, walked over to her and lifted the goblet.
From the air, Sien’s voice said, “To walk through the mouth of Beloth is not easy. It is not for the faint of heart, not for the unbelievers.”
“We do not worship the shadow god here!” she said. “Do not utter his dire name in my presence.”
Lord Sien laughed, his voice thin and ghostly. The shadows within the cavern seemed to grow darker as though the torchlight was burning out. The Vindicant priest stood motionless and vacant-eyed, holding the cup.
“Drink, my lady, what this man offers you. Do not refuse what you do not understand.”
“Oh, I understand,” she said grimly, goose bumps rising across her skin.
“It is through Beloth’s mercy that you will escape the trap surrounding you. Drink from the goblet. It will ease you.”
“No, I thank you,” she refused him curtly. “I need no potion of yours.”
“Fool!” Sien’s voice blared loud enough to make the walls of the cavern shake. Elandra’s horse shied, and she struggled to control the animal. Finally the animal quieted.
Elandra drew in a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder at Caelan, who stood apart from her and the others. She could see repudiation and disgust in his face.
“Do you hear Sien’s voice?” she asked.
He glanced at her, his eyes blazing an intense blue, and nodded without speaking.
Elandra heard the sound of splintering wood. Looking back across the cavern, she saw an axe blade cleave through the wooden panels of the door. Suddenly she could hear shouts and war cries.
Her heart lurched anew. “Madruns! They have found us. The spell is not holding.”
“He has released it,” Caelan corrected her angrily.
Kostimon straightened in the saddle and picked up the reins lying slack on his horse’s neck. Turning, the priest hurried back to him and pointed the head of Kostimon’s horse toward the open portal within the open jaws of the stone beast.
“Go,” he commanded, and the horse walked forward.
To Elandra, whatever lay on the other side looked pitch black. A cold air blew forth, and it stank of something she could not identify. She averted her eyes, shivering.
“The emperor knows the way through,” Lord Sien said from his invisible position.
The priest handed a burning torch to Kostimon, who took it without expression. The emperor’s face was slack and strangely empty.
“He has gone this way many times,” Sien’s voice said. “Follow him, and you will be safe.”
“Majesty, no—” Elandra called after her husband, but Kostimon did not look back. Afraid for him, she started to call again, but Caelan touched her foot to silence her.
“He does not hear you,” Caelan said quietly. “Or if he does, it makes no difference to him now.”
Kostimon rode through the portal, lazily ducking his head just in time to go under the low entrance. The darkness engulfed him instantly, and Captain Vysal rode in after him. The other mounted guardsmen followed, then the men on foot. Sergeant Baiter brought up the rear.
The sergeant glanced back at Elandra, who still hesitated.
The door at the other end of the cavern gave way with a splintering crash, and Madruns poured through. She stared at them, caught between two very different kinds of danger, and felt her own resistance give way.
“Caelan,” she said, hearing