"Where are we?" Nestor asked.
"I think this is the Sorrowland," Elezar said.
Nestor looked suddenly very frightened and lifted one hand as if shielding himself from the view of the surrounding blackness.
"What's the Sorrowland?" Kiram asked.
Elezar glanced only briefly to Kiram. "The dead must cross the Sorrowland to reach heaven. It's filled with the regrets and losses of a lifetime. If they lure you into the darkness, your soul is lost for eternity."
Kiram frowned at the answer. He only half believed in much of his own religion, and he certainly didn't hold with any Cadeleonian beliefs. Still, Kiram couldn't deny that Elezar seemed to be right.
Memories of his grandmother, the warmth and comfort she had always offered him, haunted Kiram. He wished, not for the first time, that he'd been able to tell her how much he loved her before she'd died. He thought he could hear her crying but didn't dare to look out into the darkness again. He concentrated on Javier's straight back, desperately trying to ignore the ghostly images flickering at the edges of his vision.
Kiram pondered how it was possible that Elezar so easily maintained his focus on Javier. But then Kiram wondered if Javier was the single greatest loss in Elezar's life. Nothing in the surrounding darkness could inspire more desire or regret. Nothing else could feel as lost to him.
As for what Javier himself saw, Kiram had no idea. He prayed that is was nothing, that the light of the shajdi protected him, because of all of them he had known the most grief and suffered the deepest losses.
But Javier didn't waver from his path. He never slowed or called out into the surrounding black. He rode and they followed. And it seemed that their constant chase would never end. Kiram's entire body hurt from the pounding rhythm of riding. He didn't know how the horses could keep moving or how he could remain awake. Sometimes it seemed like the light radiating from Javier held them all in one endless motion and only its constancy kept them all from plunging into complete oblivion.
Then suddenly a dusky sky broke overhead and the horses' hooves clattered against cobblestones. Kiram blinked at the evening stars and the moon as if he were looking at a blazing sun. He'd grown so used to pitch blackness that twilight seemed bright, almost luminous.
Glancing again to the moon, Kiram realized that it was now full, which meant that nearly three days had passed since they had entered the archway. Three days of riding without food, water or rest. He had no idea how they had done it or even how far they had come.
Slowly, he picked out the details of their surroundings. Apple trees lined the winding road. Low, stone walls divided open fields where young stalks of sunflowers stood among rows of spring wheat. Before them the road wound up to the dark fortress of the Sagrada Academy.
"Thank God!" Nestor cried. His voice sounded dry and cracked.
"I don't think God had much to do with it," Elezar told Nestor.
The light of the moon seemed to burn away Javier's dark form. Kiram studied his hunched back. He swayed in his saddle with his head bowed low and the reins hanging limply from his hands. Suddenly Kiram realized that he was about to fall.
Kiram spurred Verano ahead and caught Javier before he toppled from Lunaluz's back. He reeked of sweat, smoke and dry blood. The sharp angles of his body seemed terribly pronounced as if he'd been starved for weeks. His dark eyes looked hollow and haunted.
"Kiram?" Javier's voice came out in a rasp.
"I'm here," Kiram assured him.
Javier grasped his hand with silent desperation. He said nothing but bowed his head against Kiram's shoulder and held him as if he could not bear to let go. Kiram couldn't imagine what visions Javier had endured in the Sorrowland. He could only return Javier's embrace with all his strength and try not to think of what Nestor or Elezar made of their display. He held Javier and forgot everything else.
Then Lunaluz gave an exasperated snort and Javier drew back from Kiram.
"Apparently we're boring my horse." Javier patted the stallion's muscular neck. Then he sighed and turned his gaze to the dark silhouette of the Sagrada Academy. "Well, I suppose there's still much to be done."
He straightened in his saddle, composure lending him an air of command despite his obvious exhaustion. Then he turned to address Elezar and Nestor. "Are you still with me?"
Elezar nodded his assent. Nestor gaped for a moment but then he too agreed.
When they reached the academy grounds they found them mostly deserted. One groom greeted them at the stable but didn't rouse himself when Javier assured him that they could stable their own horses. However, as they left the stables Kiram noticed blue jays gathering in the surrounding trees and circling the academy roofs.
"That's odd," Nestor commented as he peered up at the birds.
"What are they looking for?" Elezar asked.
"Us." Javier sped up his pace.
"Are they your teacher's birds?" Nestor asked hopefully.
"No, they belong to our enemy," Kiram replied. The surrounding trees looked like they had bloomed with thousands of brilliant blue bodies.
"I think we might be in trouble," Kiram said. They were still yards from the dormitory and too far from the stables to retreat there for shelter.
Then the jays dived them.
"Run!" Javier shouted and they all bolted for the dormitory. Talons clawed at their scalps and exposed arms. Hard beaks slashed and stabbed. Blood dribbled into Kiram's eyes as a jay lacerated his brow. Kiram struck back at the small bodies but there were so many. For each one that he knocked away another swept down.
In the flurry of wings and beaks, Elezar swore and Nestor howled. Javier snarled a low grating word and flames gushed up to engulf the birds soaring above them. The jays shrieked and burning bodies fell from the air, but moments later more took flight, pursuing Kiram, Elezar, Javier and Nestor as they raced to the doors of the dormitory.
Inside, Elezar barred the doors and continued to swear at the jays under his breath. Blood trickled from a cut across his nose and his hands were a mass of scratches. Nestor pressed his hand against a gash in his cheek. His gold spectacles had been torn away and his calf was bleeding.
Javier leaned against a wall, breathing hard. He too bore a multitude of small scrapes and cuts but they didn't worry Kiram as much as Javier's pure exhaustion. Javier closed his eyes and swayed on his feet, seeming to be on the edge of collapse, but he caught himself.
He needed to sleep. Kiram wondered how well the wards up in their old tower room would protect Javier. Could he afford to rest up there for a few hours?
"We need to get Kiram to the infirmary," Javier said. Both Elezar and Nestor glanced to Kiram in alarm.
"I need to get to the mechanical cure that Scholar Donamillo created. They aren't what we thought they were, but if I'm right we can still use them," Kiram said. Now even Javier regarded him curiously. "I'll tell you everything on the way there."
As they staggered and limped through the halls, Kiram explained what he'd discovered in Yassin's journal and Scholar Donamillo's diary. Both Nestor and Elezar were horrified. Javier looked desolate.
"Every time I took him to a treatment," Javier murmured, "I was killing him."
"You couldn't have known, Javier," Elezar said. "None of us knew."
"He's right," Kiram agreed. "You aren't to blame. You thought you were protecting him and you did everything you could to help him."
"But I wasn't helping him at all."
"Now we will," Kiram assured him. "Fedeles is still there, I'm sure. Donamillo hasn't won yet."
As they moved deeper into the building, they passed servants dressed in the Sagrada colors. All of the men stared at their bloody, filthy condition, but strangely said nothing.