Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [38]
“The emperor of light may do many things denied to men ... or donares,” the Guardian replied.
Caelan drew a quick breath and tightened his grip on her hand. “Don’t—”
But she ignored him. Her gaze remained on the Guardian. She held her head high. Proudly, she said, “I am the empress of light. I may pass through the realm of shadow and leave it, as may my escort.”
The Guardian’s shoulders drew up, and it lowered its head toward her like a predator. It hissed in satisfaction. “You are the woman called Ela in Kostimon’s dreams. You are the one we have searched for. The Master wants you.”
Caelan saw her face go white. His own felt cold and drained of blood. “No,” he whispered.
“Stay calm, donare,” the Guardian said without glancing his way. “You have not the strength to fight me.”
Elandra’s face held no color. Her eyes looked huge, but she did not quail. To the Guardian, she said, “Kostimon dreams of many women. Kostimon owns many women. I am the empress sovereign. Grant me passage.”
“You are the woman called Ela—”
“That is not my name!” she shouted. “In the name of the force that rules you, stand aside and let me pass!”
The Guardian stood silent and unmoving, its implacable gaze locked on Elandra.
Her eyes dropped shut. “Sweet mother goddess, bless the weavers of Mahira and their protection.”
“Amen,” Caelan responded, although he wasn’t sure if the goddess would be insulted by the prayer of a man.
“You will speak your name.”
“I am the empress sovereign,” she replied. “That is name enough. I am one with Kostimon.”
The Guardian uttered a low, grumbling sound of displeasure. “Kostimon has not spoken your name to the Master, but he will. Kostimon has not told the Master he gave sovereignty to a wife, but he will explain. Kostimon has not mentioned that his wife keeps a donare as a pet, no, not after Kostimon promised the Master he would have no such creatures—no donares, no jinjas, no Penestricans, no seers—in his palace to interfere with the plans of the Master. Kostimon has kept many secrets, but soon he will tell them.”
“Let Kostimon give the answers,” she said boldly, her face ashen. “That is his place, not mine. Let me pass, as he has passed.”
“Kostimon went not through my gate,” the Guardian said. “Kostimon does not come to the temple of Beloth except to drink from the Cup of Immortality.”
As it spoke, the Guardian turned to one side and gestured below at the bottom of the amphitheater, where stood an altar stained with blood and ringed with flames that burned in midair.
“Do you ask for this cup?” the Guardian asked.
“We do not,” Caelan said firmly before Elandra could answer. “We ask only for passage through the gate.”
Again there came the rasping sound that was the Guardian’s laughter. “Do you know where the gate leads, donare?”
Another trick question. Caelan’s spirits dropped, but he allowed himself to show no hesitation. “It leads to the world of light.”
“I guard the Gate of Sorrows. Will you pay the toll?”
“What toll?” Caelan asked warily.
The Guardian’s glowing eyes blazed into his and held them before he could look away. “If you go through it, you must return.”
“No!” Elandra said before Caelan could speak. “He is here only because of me. I will pay the toll for both of us.”
Aghast, Caelan looked at her in horror. “You don’t know what you’re doing. Make no bargain, Majesty.” He turned to the Guardian. “She is the empress. Her passage is free.”
“Not in the world of shadow, mortal,” the Guardian said angrily. “Take care. She rules in light, but here in darkness our lady is Mael and her name stands supreme beside the Master’s.”
Caelan found his mouth so dry it took two swallows for him to speak again. “I am corrected,” he said at last, cautiously.
The Guardian stared at him, then at Elandra. “Very well,” it said. “Passage is granted for both, in exchange for the price you will pay.”
“No,” Caelan said in horror. “Please, don’t—”
“What is your price?” Elandra asked.
“You will know, when the time comes to pay.