Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [48]
He kissed her forehead and moved away from her. For now, he had done all he could for Elandra.
Another task lay before him. It was time to face it. Guilt, no matter how strongly deserved, was a burden that could grow too heavy for anyone to bear. It was time to hunt the ghosts and lay the memories to rest.
Turning away from Elandra, he lit a stick from the fire. Holding it aloft as a torch, he headed deeper into the cave, in search of his sister’s bones.
At the very rear of the cave, a folded curtain of stone hung from the ceiling. Some instinct made Caelan approach it. Putting out his hand, he curled his fingers around the edge of the curtain and found empty space behind it. A narrow fissure led into another room beyond the first.
This cave was sheathed in ice, as cold as the outdoors, and utterly silent as though no living thing had ever entered it. The moment he set foot in it, something began to glitter around him, like stars cast down from the night sky. They winked and twinkled from the ceiling overhead, from the ground before him, from the walls.
Raising his small torch higher in an effort to see, he realized that these were emeralds embedded in the ice. Polished and cut like fine jewels, they were reflecting back his torch.
They were too many to count. Dazzled by their beauty as well as by the wealth they represented, he stared at the sight for a moment. With these, he could buy an army of his own. He could buy the empire itself, if he chose.
When he realized what he was thinking, Caelan was flooded with shame. He bowed his head and cursed himself. How could he think of his own ambitions at a time like this? He might as well be a boy again, full of his own plans and tempted to steal his little sister’s emeralds to buy a commission in the army.
“No, Caelan.”
Startled, he glanced up and around but saw no one. He listened a moment. “Elandra?”
She did not respond.
He stepped back to the fissure and listened again, feeling he should return to her. She needed him by her side. He must not linger here.
Anxious now to finish his search, he crossed the icy cavern, trying to ignore the beauty of the emeralds as he sought evidence of his sister. Then the feeble torchlight fell upon a tiny mound of fabric.
Hurrying over to it, he crouched and picked up the red cloak that Lea had been wearing the last time he saw her.
Summer moths had eaten holes in it. A rodent had gnawed away one corner. It was covered with dust that floated in the air as he shook the cloth.
He half feared he would find her remains beneath the garment, but there was only the ice-encrusted floor.
Dropping the torch, he clutched the cloak in both hands, seeking answers to the questions that haunted him.
Had she stayed here in the cave as he had told her? Had she waited until she starved? Or had she ventured out, trying to follow the stream to E’raumhold? If so, why had she left her cloak behind? Where had she gone? What had become of her? Had her end been swift and merciful, or slow torture? At the end, had she still hoped he would return as promised? Or had she died knowing he betrayed her?
“Oh, Lea,” he whispered aloud, bending over the cloak. “I came back. I did keep my promise.”
Too late, said the guilt in his mind. Too late.
The scent of flowers filled the air, and suddenly the cave felt warm and almost pleasant.
“It is never too late, Caelan,” said a feminine voice. “Love is always in time.”
Startled, he looked up to find the cave filled with a clear, pale light. A slender maiden stood before him, gowned in pine green with a wreath of flowers entwined in her golden hair. A thick braid reached down over her left shoulder, the way his mother used to wear hers. Blue eyes, both merry and wise, twinkled at him.
“Welcome, dearest brother,” she said.
Still kneeling, he stared up at her, unable to speak, unable to think. Surely his hunger was making him see things.
“I am fourteen now,