Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [60]
Caelan’s senses swirled. He felt dizzy and lost. Severance was gone as though he had never had it. Perhaps this was the ultimate end of reaching into the void. Perhaps he was already completely severed and did not realize it. He felt as though his own threads of life had been cut. Now he drifted here between the physical and spirit worlds, part of neither. And he heard the grumble of the ice below him, heard the ponderous shift and grind of its infinitely slow progress. More than that, he heard its song—a low keening like the sound from the rim of a crystal goblet when rubbed.
Sevaisin pulled him to it. For a moment longer—perhaps the space of a heartbeat—Caelan resisted. Then with a sigh, he stopped fighting and allowed himself to join with the ice, to become one with the glacier.
There was a brief jolt of incredible cold, as though he had been frozen solid in an instant, and then light flashed through him. It was like physically exploding, except he felt no pain. And he found himself in a roofless temple, a place of peace and calm harmony. He stood on a slab of pale marble surrounded by twelve marble columns reaching high above him. Another row of columns, too many to count, stretched into the distance without end. There was no sky, no horizon. It was neither day nor night. Yet he saw everything with complete clarity. The air was the perfect temperature, neither hot nor cold. He heard the gentle sound of running water in the distance. It was a soothing noise. Mentally he felt renewed, restored. His naked body stood strong and whole. For once, perhaps the first time in his life, he felt centered and complete, as though he had found balance.
The quiet sound of footsteps made him turn around.
Robed in white and wearing a soft, brimless cap of silver cloth, Moah approached him with the peculiar gliding stride of the Choven. Although Caelan could feel no wind here, Moah’s silk robes billowed around his squat frame in constant motion.
Seeing Moah, some of Caelan’s peace faded. He sighed, but made no move to evade this meeting.
Moah stopped a short distance from him and stood regarding him in silence.
Meeting Moah’s liquid gaze directly, Caelan squared his shoulders and said, “Am I dead?”
Something unreadable glimmered in Moah’s rough-textured face. “Do you believe you are in death?”
“Didn’t I freeze to death on the glacier?”
“Did you?”
Caelan frowned. He had no patience for such puzzles. “Why else would I be here?”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know,” Caelan said, holding onto his temper with difficulty. Already he was finding it difficult to keep his resolution. “This looks like a temple of some kind. Am I at the edge of the spirit world?”
“No.”
It was the first solid answer Moah had given him, but it wasn’t very informative.
Caelan’s frown deepened. “Then where am I?”
“Where do you think you are?”
“I don’t know. I’ve already given you my best guess.”
Moah raised one long, dark finger. It looked like a twig. “Guess is unnecessary. Think.”
Caelan didn’t appreciate being treated like a schoolboy. “I’m in no mood for lessons,” he said sharply. “Why have I been brought here? What do you want from me?”
“I want nothing,” Moah replied, unruffled. “You are seeking to learn. Will you take learning from us?”
The fear that Caelan had known earlier among the tents came back. “No,” he said. “Why should I?”
“You fear me.”
Caelan’s mouth was dry, but he answered with the truth. “Yes. I fear you.”
“Why?”
“Because—” Caelan stopped, his thoughts and emotions a chaotic tangle in his mind.
“Because you were taught to be afraid?” Moah suggested quietly.
“You are not part of our world,” Caelan said, defiant and angry. “You have powers from—from the gods that men may not have. You follow the ancient ways, ways that are forbidden. How do I know what you will do to me? You can probably turn me into smoke at will.”
“Not smoke,” Moah said. “Ice.”
Caelan swallowed hard and held his tongue. He’d said too much already.
“On the glacier,” Moah said,