Tendrils sprouted from Multani, catching hold of a nearby network of vines. Without pause, he drew himself and Hanna smoothly over the rail and began his descent.
Gerrard watched, his gaze dipping lower and lower until she disappeared from sight. A shuddering breath moved through him.
A hand settled on his shoulder, startling him. He turned, seeing Eladamri's solemn face-prominent nose and chin, eyes profound and piercing. It was no wonder the elves saw a leader in this man.
"Choose the ten who believe most in you. I will take Liin Sivi and the nine who believe most in me. Their faith will help."
Nodding numbly, Gerrard leaned on the rail, staring.
"I would be… honored to be included in the company," came a solemn rumble at his side. Gerrard looked up to see Tahngarth, no more than a looming shadow in that bright company.
Once, the minotaur had considered Gerrard a spoiled, selfish, and angry young man. Somewhere along the line, the bull-man's opinion had changed-perhaps because Gerrard had changed.
He clutched the minotaur's four-fingered hand. "I would be honored."
"You'd have to drive me off with a stick," Sisay volunteered, coming up behind the minotaur.
"Squee too," the goblin said on his other side. He crouched back from Gerrard's desolated stare, lifting his hand as though he expected a stick to fall any moment.
"Sisay, Squee, Orim, Tahngarth-yes, thank you all," Gerrard said gratefully.
Something massive moved among the kneeling soldiers. They scurried up and back. A gasp went through the group. In their midst rose a steaming specter. Hissing heat peeled away from muscles of silver.
"Would anyone like a shoulder ride?" Karn asked.
Gerrard, Eladamri, and their comrades descended within the Palace Tree. They gradually left behind the sounds of festival. First came the creak of growing wood, then the slosh of subterranean seas beyond the root walls. At last, only stone silence remained.
All the while, the party's lanterns bathed the tortuous descent in flickering light. Ragged splinters jutted from every wall. Giant cobwebs laced the spiraling way. The corpses had been removed, but still it was a haunted place.
Eladamri abjured the company to banish doubt and embrace hope. He sang a cycle of elven songs. His folk joined him, all but the ever-watchful Liin Sivi.
Gerrard and Weatherlight's command crew meanwhile traded stories of their travels-of Hanna steering the ship past the Rathi slivers, of her heroism inside the Stronghold, of her encyclopedic understanding of Weatherlight, of her pinpoint navigation, her shy wit, her laughter. They spoke of courage, strength, and wisdom, not illness or death.
At last, the way opened. Eladamri's songs grew only louder as he progressed beneath a series of ribbed archways and down into the Dreaming Caves. Beautiful visions flowed from the singers' mouths and coiled in air around them.
Eladamri lifted his lantern. The light reached out across the cavern and splashed tepidly over a figure below.
Multani had formed himself into a great, woody altar, cradling the sick woman. Hanna seemed a figure laid on a pyre. It was clear she had not healed a whit.
Gerrard stopped in his tracks, panting. He closed his eyes and stooped, setting hands on his knees as if he had been struck in the belly.
Eladamri approached. "You must bring her back, Gerrard. Bring her into our minds-whole and healthy and happy."
Breath hitching in him, Gerrard stood. A manic light came to his face. He smiled a cheerless smile. He raised the wick of his lantern so that his face glared brilliantly.
"Have I told you, Eladamri, of the woman I love?"
An approving look came into the elf's eyes. "No. Not nearly enough. Tell me about her."
"She has the most beautiful hair," Gerrard said, blinking. "The color of wheat-spun gold. She doesn't ever do anything with it. She just pins it back out of her way. She doesn't have to do anything with it-"
"She puts grease in it," Squee blurted.
Gerrard laughed, a little too harshly. "Yes, bearing grease and engine oil and soot from a coal box-this is her makeup kit. She always looks great." Images of Hanna formed in the air-her smile, her glad eyes, her lithe figure kneeling beside some hunk of hardware.
"Yes," Eladamri said. "I see her. Tell me more."
Gerrard grasped Eladamri's shoulders and said fervently. "Did I tell you she saved my life on Mercadia? She pretended to be an elevator mechanic. Dressed up in Mercadian laborer's clothes. She tried to make herself look fat and grubby, but she's too tall, too statuesque, and even with grease and soot she's about the cleanest looking creature in the multiverse."
Before Tahngarth's eyes swam visions of that bright day, Hanna and Squee and the boy Atalla plotting to free the captives.
"More. Tell us more," Eladamri insisted.
"She sabotaged that cage pretty well. She shut it down for a week. Fact was, next time we left the city, we flew out on wings of cloth, like angels…" Gerrard gagged on his words. He reached out to his comrades. "She's the smartest one on board, don't you think?-trained on Tolaria. Hanna's dad is the Mage Master Barrin, but she outstrips him in artifact knowledge. Remember her rebuilding the engine in Mercadia? Remember her threading the needle over Benalia? Remember?"
Visions swam brightly before the eyes of the comrades.
"Come!" Gerrard said. "See for yourselves. Look on her perfect skin, her blushing cheeks-the sweetest smile you ever saw. Come over here, let me show you. So thin and strong, perfect health! Let me introduce you."
Dragging at Eladamri, Gerrard led the group rapidly, excitedly to the place where Hanna lay. The swarming visions followed them. Airy spirits encircled the woman, caressing her. They seemed at first to be holy raiments and then to be healthy flesh. The mists wrapped her atrophied muscles and filled them out. Belief cloaked her gaunt frame in strength. The grim set of her teeth became a smile, the sunken sockets became bright blue eyes. It was the old
Hanna-strong and glad and whole.
"Do you see?" Gerrard shouted. "Do you see?"
"Yes!" Eladamri replied. "I see!"
Gerrard slid his hands under Hanna and lifted her. "Do you see!"
The glamour did not come with her. The delusion of health peeled away from her skin. Misty muscle dissipated to gaunt infirmity. The eyes that had seemed open were closed now, had never opened. Her loveliness was a skull.
"Oh!" Gerrard said in sudden shock. "Oh!"
Eladamri clasped his arm. "It's all right. It's all right."
"No, it's not all right! Nothing is all right!"
"You did all you could," Eladamri soothed. "Our belief can't heal her-I realize that now. It is only her belief that could heal her. If she could awaken from this coma, she could save herself. Otherwise… You did all you could."
"Oh!" Gerrard repeated, falling to his knees. He looked up piteously at his comrades. "She is so light!"
Chapter 28
Thaddeus awoke, pinioned beneath the spider woman Tsabo Tavoc. Her compound eyes gleamed like twin gemstones in her pallid face. Her mouth segments twitched in concentration as she stared down at him. The massive weight of her body pressed on him in eight spike-tipped feet. Above her head, a smooth rock ceiling gleamed with myriad lanterns. They sent tendrils of smoke up across the wall to gather and coil in the vault. The swirling soot made a black halo above the spider woman's head.