Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [33]
Only then did he feel as though he had escaped. The weight of Beloth’s forbidden name was no longer inside him.
“You are ill,” Elandra said in concern. She touched his sleeve, and through the quick flow of sevaisin between them, he knew she had encountered Beloth herself before, and escaped through the intervention of the earth mother.
Caelan shut his eyes a moment. Ancient magic, natural magic ... the kind that Lea had understood.
“We must get out of here,” he said in a low voice.
“But where?” she asked in despair.
He pointed at the slope of another hill rising beyond the ruins. Noise and light came from that direction, the only signs of life in this dead place.
“Are you certain?” Elandra asked him.
He nodded, still feeling clammy and weak. His sense of danger was growing stronger.
“We must hurry,” he said. “I’ll explain later, but whatever you do, don’t look at the tomb.”
“I understand,” she said, and her voice was stark with fear.
A rat ventured forth from among the rocks to lap up what Caelan had spewed. Disgusted, he turned away swiftly and led Elandra down the hill.
They skirted the city and the mist, lacking the courage to venture into either. Gripping Elandra’s hand tightly, Caelan severed himself in order to see with truth and strode grim and fast over the blighted ground.
Occasionally a shyriea flew overhead, and red eyes glowed furtively at them from the ruins. Caelan heard shrieks now and then as something fought and died. But obviously Beloth’s powers remained limited, even here. And perhaps not all the denizens of the realm of shadow could see Caelan while he was severed. Or perhaps they dared not attack someone capable of resisting their dire lord and master.
Past the ruins at the base of the next hill, Caelan and Elandra came to a stone amphitheater shaped like a deep crater. Its steps descended far below to a stage lit by flaming torches. Smoke and mist obscured what was happening down there. Caelan glimpsed an altar and moving figures. The seats themselves were filled with an assembly of warriors in black cloaks, helmets, and armor.
Beside him, Elandra gasped. “The army of—”
He put his hand swiftly across her lips, but she had already silenced herself. A low rumble passed through the ground underfoot as though Beloth had heard her near mistake. Neither of them must speak the god’s name.
They hurried on, skirting the theater, keeping to the scant cover offered. The sentries standing at the top of the theater were seemingly mesmerized by the activity on the stage. They did not look elsewhere.
Eerie trails of light rose into the air, mingling with the smoke. The scorched smell of dark, forbidden magic filled Caelan’s nostrils, making him feel dizzy.
Still holding Elandra’s hand, his sword gripped in his other fist, Caelan ran for the slope and started picking his way up the steep, rocky trail. At the top he could see two tall stone pillars where a strange, yellowish green light glowed brightly. When Caelan looked at it too long, his eyes burned and watered. He knew that was the gateway back to their world. He could see the truth beyond it, could sense the realm of light past its barrier.
Elandra stopped and ducked behind a large boulder, pulling him down with her.
Impatient by this delay, he tugged at her hand, but she would not budge. “You can’t go up there,” she whispered.
He frowned. What had happened to her courage? They were practically to the gateway. After all they had gone through, she could not stop now.
“Come,” he said.
“No! Don’t you see them? Take care,” she said in warning.
His frown deepened. What was she talking about? He saw nothing except the gateway, shining brighter than ever. Great rays of its light shone down the hill toward them, as though reaching out. He could see a dark figure silhouetted up there, but nothing else.
But Elandra herself was barely more than an aura shining beside him. He was deeply severed, to the point where he saw only the essence of things.