Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [35]
His speed made more helmeted heads turn. They could not see him, but their unease was noticed by the Guardian. Robed and hooded in black, this figure stepped forward just as Caelan reached the top of the hill.
A voice, deep and monstrous, spoke a single word to him. It was not Beloth’s voice, but the sound resonated loudly enough to make the ground shake beneath Caelan’s feet. Hot wind lashed his face, blowing his cloak back from his shoulders. He glanced up, and saw ancient symbols burning in the air before they faded like dying embers and their ashes blew away.
Fear twisted through Caelan. His control of severance was unraveling, and the world seemed to tilt and shift around him before he regained mastery of himself. He felt a stab of pain in his chest from the effort he was expending. He felt also Elandra’s fear and exhaustion, as well as the swirling confusion in her mind. She was unprepared for any of this; her courage was starting to fail.
Desperately Caelan focused on the gateway, using all his strength, all his force, all his essence to envision it opening.
The Guardian’s voice thundered again, making the world shake. A blast of heat scorched Caelan, making him cry out. The yellowish green light between the pillars began to dim. As it did so, he glimpsed the world beyond. His world of sunlight and blue sky and verdant life.
Struggling, Caelan took yet another step forward. The pain in him grew sharp—a sawing, gouging pain similar to what he used to feel during lessons at Rieschelhold years before. It used to hurt to sever. It hurt now to maintain it. This task was beyond his abilities, beyond his powers.
Yet he had to accomplish it. Gathering all his reserves, he hurled everything he had, every bit of will, every ounce of desperation at the force that held him back.
He felt the invisible bond give way, and he shouted in triumph, taking two strides forward before he was stopped again.
Pain burst through his chest, and he sagged to his knees in defeat. Spent, he closed his eyes while his breath rasped in his lungs. His chest was on fire. His mind was on fire. He had given everything he had, more than he had. Now, he could do no more.
Something unseen but very powerful struck him, and the last of his severance crumbled.
Once again, the world shifted and tilted around him. He opened his eyes with a gasp, only to see nothing but darkness. Then there was a flash of light, dazzling him with such brilliance he cringed and flung up his forearm to shield his eyes.
He was vaguely aware of sevaisin fading within him too, of Elandra slipping from him, of a tearing sense of separation. Then he saw her, white-faced and terrified, kneeling beside him. She was breathing hard as though she had been running. Her eyes stared past him, wide and mesmerized. Now and then a tremor ran through her body.
He reached out to her, and started to speak her name in reassurance. But instead he saw the Guardian looming over them. The Guardian reached up with both gloved hands and pushed back the hood.
Caelan stared at the revealed face. His breath lodged in his throat; his body turned rigid and unable to move.
Beside him, Elandra screamed.
Chapter Seven
The face of the Guardian was that of Beva E’non. Northern pale, drawn thin beneath the prominent cheekbones, the mouth a thin, uncompromising line. Bleak gray eyes that bored into Caelan’s soul.
He stared, unable to believe it. “Father?” he whispered.
Almost as he spoke, Elandra tugged at his hand as though she wanted to break free. Her gaze remained centered on the Guardian as though she were mesmerized.
“Bixia?” she said. “How come you to this place?”
The Guardian swung its eyes toward Elandra and spoke something, but Caelan could not hear the words it said.
He frowned, his puzzlement and sense of alarm intensifying. This could not be his father. Beva was dead, killed by Thyzarene raiders years before. His soul had been released into the world of spirits,