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Chapter 50
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“We’re all set,” Ralion said through Marc’s receiver, making him jump. “Their Majesties are on board. Dynan and Shalis are next. The route is secure. Do you know where Dain is?”
“He was right here a minute ago.”
“He isn’t now.”
“All right, hold on.” He couldn’t tell where Dain was or what he was doing because Dain was blocking him. Marc frowned a little at that, and turned to Dynan, who was watching the proceedings from the top stair outside the Palace front doors. “Where’s Dain?”
“Don’t worry about him, Marc.”
“What do you mean don’t worry about him?” When Dynan explained that his brother was quietly getting Ambrose out of the Palace, Marc didn’t feel less inclined to be concerned. Taking the former King to Taldic’s funeral was a huge risk. The entire expedition into Rianamar was a risk, but Ambrose’s presence needlessly added to the overall difficulty of it. “Thanks for letting me know about this.”
Dynan laughed. “Oh, you’re welcome my Lord Chancellor. As if you have any room to complain.” He laughed again as they started down the stairs. They were the last to board, and Marc climbed in after him. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”
Marc shook his head. He couldn’t tell him that he was terrified of going to the sanctuary where the High Bishop would preside over the funeral services. He lied, saying it was just a general unease about their leaving the Palace. Nothing to really worry about. Dynan seemed satisfied with the explanation.
They made the trip to the Governor’s Hall in silence, leaving Marc to dwell on a growing sense of dread. He fully expected the High Bishop to confront him again, and he wasn’t ready for it. He doubted he ever would be. To take his mind off of it, he listened to the guards’ reports as they progressed. They hit a crowd when they reached the main road, except Marc couldn’t tell because they stood so quietly along the procession route. There wasn’t any cheering this time when they reached the Governor’s Hall, but silence, filled only by the slight rustle of movement by so many thousands of people.
In the Chambers of the Governor’s Hall, Gemern Taldic’s body lay in state, and they all entered for one last viewing before he was entombed. To Marc, it seemed a lot of moving around. After they’d all filed past the body of the slain Governor, and everyone had said their piece, the eulogies were lengthy; it was back to the carriages for all the Royals. The Regional Governors of Cobalt would walk from the Hall to the sanctuary. More traditions that Marc thought were insane to adhere to at the moment. He refused to allow Dynan to join them, and this time he listened without argument.
They plodded along with excruciating slowness, allowing more time for thought. Fear increased, unreasoning in its intensity, bordering on panic. He couldn’t go into that hallowed building and survive. It was a thought he couldn’t escape and he didn’t know how he could get out of it. Allowing Dynan to see how afraid he was would require an explanation he wasn’t capable of giving. The block against saying anything about the High Bishop’s involvement remained fully enforced. He fought to keep his breath even, and the effort made his hands shake. He clasped them together, and when that didn’t work, he folded his arms.
The carriage moved through an arched tunnel that entered on the sanctuary compound. Hooded monks lined the stone road on either side, their heads bowed and hands folded back under the sleeves of their white robes. They were singing in a mesmerizing chant, slow and grieving. A grey mist swirled before Marc’s eyes and he realized he could see. He didn’t know how it was possible and he couldn’t make it stop. A stab of pain moved through Marc, doubling him over. He couldn’t breathe, and a wave of nausea left him shaking. He felt Maralt beating against the confines of his prison.
Marc knew then that it was his proximity to the other orbs that made him so much more aware of Maralt’s presence. He fought against the sudden loss of control, struggling through pain to seal away the force that raged against him. He heard voices swirling through his mind, incomprehensible and distant, but inherently evil. They were all of them there, trying to reach him.
Marc felt Shalis with him then and heard Dynan telling him to hold on. Pain receded slowly and he was able to straighten. His fear abated and he understood it. He’d thought it a fear of facing the High Bishop, when it was an inner warning to stay away from this place of power. “I’m all right,” he said, holding Shalis for a moment to assure her of it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect that. It was Maralt, trying to get out. It’s all right now.”
“What happened?” Dynan asked.
“I’m not sure. It’s over, but I think it might be better if I stay here. The others are waiting. You go ahead.”
The door opened and Dain looked in. “What’s the problem?”
Marc shook his head, urging Dynan and Shalis to go ahead. He saw the High Bishop moving to stand at the top stair before the open sanctuary doors to receive them. While Marc’s terror of seeing him had gone, he wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea either. When Dain heard what had happened, he wanted to stay with him, fearing that he’d drawn too much of his strength when they’d gone to the beach again that morning.
“You gave it all right back, so that’s not it. I’m going to stay out here. I hate funerals anyway. Go on.”
Dain wasn’t paying attention to him any more, but staring sharply at the High Bishop. Marc thought he could almost see a visible shield around him, and understood why. Dain’s other half was with him and they meant to keep the two apart.
“You’re sure you’ll be all right?”
“Yes, Dain. I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again, and if it does, I don’t want it to happen in public.”
Dain nodded, still preoccupied with the High Bishop. Marc didn’t think he understood the source of his confusion, and he finally shrugged.
“Where’s Father?” Dynan asked as he helped Shalis out of the carriage.
“Inside.”
“And so is everyone else,” Marc said. “Go on.”
They did finally; escorted by the High Bishop, with their guards following. Marc sat back in his seat as the carriage pulled off. It stopped a few minutes later, circling back to the rear of the building where the horses could be tended. Marc watched the handlers doing that for a minute, trying to ignore the general discomfort that continued to plague him. After a while, the carriage felt too confining, and despite the chill, he decided that being outside was preferable to a growing claustrophobia. The sensation didn’t ease much, but as he walked farther from the sanctuary, he began to feel better. At the same time, he felt a strong compunction to turn around and go inside. He put his hand over the orb, tightening his fist around it.
He walked into an immaculately tended glade of trees and found a bench perfectly situated to catch the sun’s warmth. He stood there for a time looking around himself, wondering what made him feel so tense. There seemed to be two different forces at work, one repelling one enticing. He grunted at that.
“Of course there are two opposed forces, stupid. Look where you are, and at what you hold.”
He sat on the bench, shaking his head at himself, and tried to ignore the strong sense he had of being watched. He craned his head back to look up at the tower and thought he saw movement behind the window. He pulled in a breath, wishing that he hadn’t come at all.
“It would have been better if you hadn’t,” Carryn said from behind, startling him to his feet. “But you didn’t know, and we prepared as best we could for the possibility.”
Marc swallowed back another jolt of fear. “Dynan is really angry with you.”
“I know, Marc.”
“What’s with the disappearing act?”
“It wasn’t my choice. We aren’t supposed to interfere.”
“Interfere? With what?”
“You mostly.”
“Then what are you doing here now?” he asked and sat back down.
Carryn smiled and joined him on the bench. “It was given to me that I could come talk to you.” She shrugged. “You looked like you needed the company.”
“Why can I see?”
“That goes back to why your sight was taken in the first place. It no longer serves any useful purpose. You’ve learned what you needed to from it; how to block.”
“You did this to me?”
“You did it to yourself.” Carryn smiled at his surprise. “You should listen to Loren more often.”
“How can I do something to myself that I have no awareness of? How does that work?”
“We also thought it better that we give sight rather than have you waste your energies on it. With the number of people you’re shielding right now, you don’t need the distraction. Call it a gift.”
“Do I get to keep this one?”
“Yes.”
Marc watched her, wondering what Carryn wanted to talk to him about. She wouldn’t be making this appearance without a reason, especially if they weren’t supposed to interfere. When he asked, Carryn shook her head.
“Nothing specific. Rather, I’m here to answer what questions I can.”
“What you’re allowed to answer.”
“If it is given, I’ll tell you.”
Marc thought the only answers he was going to get would be the ones he didn’t want to ask about. “Do you know anything about the Alcasians?”
“Only that they are inextricably involved in this, as you are. In that, you’ll have to trust in Faith. The Gods, fully restored, will provide the answer or solution to the Alcasian arrival here.”
“Then they’re coming.”
“Yes, but we don’t know why, only that your presence brings them.”
“Dynan is sending a ship.”
“And you told him what would happen. It will, just as you thought.”
“He isn’t going to like this.”
“Then you’ll have to stop him from doing anything rash. One of your many responsibilities as Lord Chancellor.”
“What’s going to happen to Ambrose?”
“Unknown,” Carryn said.
“Loren?”
“You know the saying.”
“Right.” Marc shook his head and stood. “She’ll be all right. I don’t really need to ask about her. I know she’ll survive what ever happens here. She’s like that.”
“She’ll get through it.”
Marc nodded, but knew she would also be faced with his death. If she didn’t have Dynan to help her, the way she survived it would dramatically change. Any semblance of happiness would be a long time in returning, if it ever did. He felt cowardly for refusing to tell her what would happen to him. She wouldn’t likely ever forgive Dynan for not telling her.
“Why don’t you?” Carryn asked him. “I can tell what you’re thinking by looking at you, Marc, nothing more than that.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why? To spare her or yourself?”
“Both.” He shook his head then. “Just me. I want someone to be able to look at me, talk to me and not think about it. I don’t want them to treat me differently.”
“She’ll forgive Dynan. She’ll forgive you too.”
Marc didn’t think he could ask about Shalis. He wouldn’t get an answer about her either. “I can’t tell her. Either of them.”
“Then don’t.”
“I’m not going to.”
“I’m not trying to suggest otherwise.”
“Seems that way to me.”
“That would be your own conscience, not mine.”
“You just think I should tell them.”
“No, I don’t.”
Marc turned from her, and looked over the rolling grounds, chewing his lip. He didn’t want to hear what he already knew. Somehow, Carryn saying it made it more undeniable. Not telling Loren and Shalis was part of that too. “What’s going to happen to me after all this? I know I’m going to die. I mean after that. The High Bishop said that I would suffer the same fate. Does that mean there aren’t any Rites of Transition for me either?”
He saw that Carryn didn’t want to tell him and that was answer enough. “I don’t think there will be anything left to cross over. You’re bound so closely now to Maralt and his existence must be completely effaced, for now and all time.”
Marc nodded after a while, feeling the truth of it in the pit of his soul. “I must have committed some really horrible sin somewhere along the way to deserve this.”
“You haven’t, though it must seem that way. An accident of birth. Fate, or whatever you want to call it. You were chosen by the Gods and that choice was made a thousand years ago, guaranteed by the actions of our ancestors, yours and mine.”
Marc sat and felt tears sting his eyes, hating that they were there. “Doesn’t offer much in the way of incentive, does it? Can you promise me one thing? Swear it? Will they be stopped this time, for all time, if I do this?”
“They will be stopped. I swear it, on my life and yours.” She kissed her fingertips, leaned over and touched Marc’s forehead.
Marc nodded when he didn’t want to. “You have to take care of Dain. He’s going to need it.”
“I will.”
“Dynan will be all right. Dain might not ever be. I think this last bit of injustice will break him. This is a fight he can’t win.”
“And Dain doesn’t like to lose. I know.”
“How’s the other one doing?” Marc asked, hearing the exasperation in Carryn’s voice.
“Being a pain on most days.” Carryn smiled a little at that.
“Good,” he said, thinking that Carryn deserved it. “He’s with the High Bishop today.”
Carryn glanced at him, then nodded. “Yes. A necessity.”
“He’s dying.”
“This struggle has proved extremely difficult for him. As the Gods weaken, so does he.”
“He’s a gateway too.”
“As you are, yes.”
“You’ll take his place,” Marc said.
“Perhaps. If I can.”
“Does he still hate me for what I did?”
“He never hated you, Marc. He was afraid, as we all were, that you wouldn’t be able to control what you’d learned. He spoke out of that fear and thought to take you before you lost all control. He was wrong to do that.”
“Wrong? The High Bishop?”
“I had the same reaction. He is only a man, prone to the same fallacies and weaknesses as you or I.”
“I don’t know if I can ever face him, Carryn. I know I have to, that I’m supposed to. There’s something inside me, and it’s not Maralt either, that wants to run away as fast as I can whenever I see him. It happened at Kamien’s funeral. It happened today. So far I haven’t been able to overcome it.”
“I can’t help you with that, except to say that I know what kind of man you are. Somewhere inside you exists a will strong enough to face this fear. Otherwise, you would not have been chosen.”
“I think the Gods made a mistake.”
“They didn’t. Of that, I’m certain.”
“When will I be?”
“When it’s time.” Carryn smiled when Marc frowned at her. “Sorry. You and Dain share the most amazing intolerance for those sort of answers.”
“With good reason.”
“Perhaps.”
Marc pulled in a breath. He’d asked all that he could. Gotten more answers than he thought, but fewer than he needed. “Can you come see Dynan?”
“No.”
“Some help you are,” he said, but he smiled. Even though all the news was bad, he felt better having heard it. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She stood and held down her hand. “I doubt that you’ll see me again.”
Marc wasn’t at all prepared for that, but it didn’t surprise him that Carryn was the first to say goodbye, and the first to forewarn him that this would happen again. It was another reality Marc had to accept. He nodded finally, and pushed himself to his feet, still wishing it weren’t true. “Don’t say it.”
“All right. I won’t.” Carryn smiled and let him go. It was harder to watch her walk away. Marc would be faced with letting go of so many other people he cared about. Carryn made this parting easier by initiating it herself. Marc doubted he’d be that lucky with anyone else.
“Goodbye Carryn.”
She turned where she was at the edge of the glade to look back at him, offering a smile and a nod before she disappeared from sight.
Marc stayed where he was for a long time. When he wanted to let the tears come, they wouldn’t. He didn’t want to think about it any more. He left the glade, wandering through the sanctuary grounds. He still felt like he was being watched and looked up at the tower again. Another wave of unease moved through him.
He felt the ground shudder, a groaning rumble that caused a bolt of sudden fear, wave on wave boiling out from the sanctuary.
Suddenly, he realized it was Dynan and Dain and all his friends suddenly plunged into terror.
Marc reached for Dain, meaning to shift to him, disregarding his own fear of the place. He felt the contact and moved. An invisible wall stopped him, knocking the air from his lungs on impact and he fell on the stone roadway that circuited the building. At the same time, he saw a lone monk entering through a side door, hurrying inside as though called. Marc moved to follow him, but found the same barrier blocked his way.
Marc didn’t understand it, or its source. He didn’t have time to consider it longer. Dynan was in danger and Marc had to get to him. He was completely cut off from him, unable to communicate. The metallic buzz in his ear told him the receivers weren’t working.
Anger boiled into his mind, coupled with desperation. Marc bent his will against the barrier, drawing strength from the orb. He set his hand against the invisible shield and a booming crack erupted around him. The barrier disintegrated before him.
Inside the door, he found the bodies of two monks. Another hurried away from him down a stone hall. Marc followed, but stopped at the next intersection of corridors. This one would take him back toward the front of the building to the temple where Dynan was. Ahead of him, the monk drew back his hood, smiling back at him before he turned down another hall and disappeared.
“Logue,” Marc snarled under his breath and raced after him. A corridor opened to his left and right. The shorter of the two ended in a door on his right. Logue had gone the longer route, leading farther into the sanctuary. Marc turned to follow, but didn’t see him. He passed a maze of corridors and doors that opened on either side, searching quickly down each, pulling open doors that led to other rooms. All of them empty. He heard a noise coming from the last corridor on the left; a body thudding to the floor.
A monk lay before another junction of halls. His eyes were pinched from pain, close to death and when Marc leaned over him, they widened in panic. The monk choked on his works, clutching at Marc, pulling at him to stop him. The man died even as Marc meant to try and heal him, still grasping his cloak with fingers that had to be pried open.
Marc looked down the hall, staring suddenly because it ended in a wall of black. He knew where he was then, memory of the room that held the orbs returning in a flash that left him shaking. If he wanted to capture Logue and take what he held, he had to go in.
Fear and instinct joined to stop him. Gradyn Vall had warned him against entering that room. Marc discounted the advice. He hadn’t been as strong then, he reasoned. Things had changed. He’d learned and grown since, and he wanted the last part of Maralt dealt with. The danger Dynan faced would stop when he was taken.
Marc took a step forward. A barrier rose behind him, cutting off escape and the black veil boiled toward him, encompassing him in the next instant. He was trapped.
