Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [40]
To be in Trau again. It was as if years had dropped away and he was a boy again. Just an ordinary boy full of dreams and mischief, not yet tainted by evil or cruelty or betrayal. A boy who had not yet killed. A boy not yet tested to the depths of his scarred soul.
Hope filled him, and he dared believe that by some miracle the shadow gods had returned him to the past, where he could start again, try again, avoid the mistakes that had cost him so dearly.
But then he glanced down and saw the crimson folds of his cloak spread on the ground about him. It looked like blood here in the mist and snow. He drew a deep breath and felt the solid constriction of his armor. There was no going back, ever. There was only the bitter present, harsh and worn. Trau legends said a man carried his sins in a basket on his back, like firewood, and as each man walked his path of life, collecting sticks, the basket grew heavier.
It was true.
“Caelan?”
The voice startled him. Snapping his head around, he saw Elandra threading her way through the stumps. In her cloak of golden wool and cream-colored gown, her auburn hair streaming free over her shoulders, she looked like a maiden of the woods, as golden and vivid as autumn itself. But there was a frown on her face, and as she drew near, her eyes looked puzzled.
She stopped and stared at him, still kneeling with a clot of earth clenched in his hand. “Are you unwell?”
Embarrassed to be caught like this, with his emotions exposed and naked, Caelan hastily shook his head.
“Then rise and tell me where we are. I have never seen such strange trees. And what is this that falls from the sky? Snow?”
“Yes,” he said.
“I was told it could snow in Imperia, but rarely. I have never seen anything like this.”
She looked impatient and wonderstruck at the same time. He gazed up at her, captured anew by her beauty and vitality, and lost his heart to her all over again.
Her presence drove away the ghosts. He felt stronger and more in command of himself. “It will snow all night,” he predicted, suddenly enjoying the opportunity to introduce her to the weather of a real winter. “By dawn, you will no longer see the ground. All will be covered in white snow, as though magic has been worked.”
Her frown deepened, indicating that his description had failed to enchant her. “Magic?” she echoed. “Yes, I would say it has been worked. Where are we?”
“Trau.”
Her mouth fell open, but it was a moment before she spoke. “I don’t believe it.”
Caelan got stiffly to his feet, then stood still for a moment as a wave of dizziness washed over him. As soon as it passed, he opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. “Trau,” he said firmly.
“We are a thousand leagues from where we need to be. What game did the Guardian play with us?”
Caelan had no answer for her. “At least we are no longer in the realm of shadow.”
She gestured impatiently and began to pace back and forth. “Yes, but that hardly matters now. What of Kostimon? What of the army? How am I to join them if I am in Trau?”
Caelan stopped listening. Turning aside, he glanced up and saw the jagged peaks of the Cascades looming high on the horizon. Caelan felt the wind in his face, gentle as yet, but with a threat of sharpness. It had shifted since he first awakened. It was blowing off the glacier now, and that meant a storm was coming. He suspected it was mid-afternoon if not later, and they had little time to find shelter. Then it was as though the sight of the mountain fully registered in his mind. He let his jaw drop open while he stared.
“Caelan!” Elandra said sharply, recapturing his attention. “Are you listening to anything I say?”
He turned to her slowly, feeling stunned and not quite in possession of his wits. “I am home,” he said, and even his voice sounded hollow.
Impatience crossed her face. “Yes, and I am freezing,” she said angrily. “Of course you are home. You have already said this is Trau.”
“No,” he said. A