Rhanu and his company joined with the lines of soldiers that disappeared into the fog. The ground rumbled with the sound of armored feet. Condensation beaded on the soldiers' armor as they entered the mist. Rhanu glanced at Ayna, whose face was somber. "Is something wrong?"
She shook her head. "I cannot tell. The closer we get to this fog, the more muffled my senses become. As if all ahead is swathed in darkness. It will be hard to predict what danger comes for us."
"Then we will have to look out for one another." He gestured to Han, Meshella, and the others, who nodded in agreement. "As we are used to doing."
Meshella gave him a fond look. "It is good to have you back, Rhanu. I was afraid we would have to do this without you."
He smiled. "What am I, some good luck talisman?"
"No. You are the one who leads us."
He took a look at their surroundings. "One last time, perhaps. I do not need foresight to know we may not come out of this accursed fog alive."
"We will be fine, Ra. All of us are coming back together."
"As you say, Meshella."
When they stepped deeper into the clamminess of the fog, their good humor evaporated instantly. A sense of dread fell on Rhanu like unseen cobwebs. He clenched his jaw as he looked at the half-formed silhouettes around him. They were beyond the point of return. The only direction was forward, blindly into the billowing mists.
The air was damp and smelled of death.
Chapter 59: Nyori
The Night Mare reared, billowing flame and screaming her terrible challenge. In the saddle, the Reaver unsheathed an onyx sword that dimmed the light with its presence. Alaric's face was perfectly calm when he turned and reached for Nyori's hand. His eyes were sapphires, glittering gems that transfixed her, held her captive by their power.
Their fingers touched.
She had heard stories of whirlpools at sea, great sucking currents of water that pulled entire boats to a watery grave at the bottom of the ocean. She could think of nothing else as she was snatched off her feet by the force. It was a vortex like the Pools when they transported her to Everfell, but darkness surrounded her instead of glowing waters. She felt the sensation of motion as though storm winds carried her. Alaric was a frozen figure with flailing silver hair ahead of her. His hand gripped hers tightly.
She looked down to a view of nothing. Only eternal blackness as far as she could see. She wanted to scream but was afraid everything would shatter if she made a sound, they would scatter across the darkness forever.
Just as suddenly, it was over.
They exited from the shadows into a colossal chamber. Intricately engraved ivory pillars soared into a ceiling so high it was almost lost to sight. Slivers of multihued colors streamed from windows of stained glass. Even the floor was laden with silver and gold tracings on glazed tiles of embossed art.
Her head still spun from the disturbing mode of travel. She half-stumbled, bewildered by the sudden change from nightmare darkness to gold-dusted dream.
Alaric steadied her with a gentle hand on her arm. "I apologize, Shama Nyori. Shadowmelds are an uneasy way to travel even for those experienced. I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now."
"You used no words."
Confusion flickered across his face. "No words?"
"You spoke no Apokrypy when you used the Shadowmeld. No symbols. Nothing." Nyori spoke more by rote than on purpose, still disoriented by the sudden change of settings.
"Ah." Alaric smiled. "I was told you were a student of the utmost adeptness. Ever curious, even in the face of what must appear a terrible situation. Your Apokrypy is only a crude form of what the Aelon can do simply by focus and command of our mental prowess. We are not handicapped by such things as words and symbols. They have long been committed to our consciousness and are no longer necessary."
His two companions stepped from the shadows of the pillars, alert and wary as they searched the room for any sign of danger.
Alaric waved them away. "I am unharmed. Ready the soldiers, for the Reaver is surely on its way here."
They bowed and quickly left the room. Alaric returned his attention to Nyori. She tried to summon her courage and met his gaze without flinching.
"Why did you bring me here?"
Alaric gave her a searching look. "You already know the answer to that, Nyori. When we last met you took something I desperately needed. I realize Leilavin's deceit influenced your actions, but I must insist on rectifying that mistake immediately."
Nyori pulled away from him. Her hand automatically drifted to the pouch on her waist, where Eymunder was safely tucked away. Her heart pounded when she found nothing there. The pouch was missing.
When she looked up, the satchel was in Alaric's hand. He held it by the drawstrings in an almost careless manner; his shimmering eyes fixed on her face.
"Eymunder belongs to me," Nyori said. "You cannot have it."
He quirked his lips in an amused manner. "I wish there was a better way to do this. But you are wrong. I must have Eymunder, and I will."
He opened the pouch, revealing the glimmering wand. The amber orb flashed in the light.
Nyori waited for his hand to be repelled as Ayna's was. Her breath caught when Alaric's fingers closed around Eymunder with no ill effects at all. Nyori lifted her arm and took a half step forward despite herself.
Alaric calmly lifted Eymunder to the light and spoke softly, almost to himself. "To think that I have waited centuries to gain possession of this. So long. Such a paltry thing to pin the fate of an entire people upon." He inhaled slowly, as though breathing in the scent of absolution.
His gaze sharpened when he looked at her. "You appear shocked, Nyori. Were you expecting Eymunder's wards to affect me? I am an Aelon. We toiled at the construction of the fusorbs, and so know all of their secrets."
"You are not an Aelon." Nyori knew the words to be false even as she uttered them. She had never seen anyone more majestic than Alaric save for Riodran, in the temple of Asfrior. Though their physical characteristics were different, he and Riodran both shared the same regal manner and flawless features. It was difficult to resist the Co'nane king when the aura of his presence nearly shouted that she meekly submit.
Alaric slowly circled her. "And what know you of the Aelon, Shama? You are but a child, a novice even by your mortal standards. The lore the Sha pride themselves on protecting is nothing more than breadcrumbs fit for sparrows. Did your wise and knowing Sha tell you that Eymunder is one of the Six? That when combined with its companions, it can open a Threshold in Narak, freeing Stygan from his imprisonment?"
Nyori could only stare blankly. Alaric nodded at her expression. "As I feared. You could not possibly know how dangerous Eymunder is in the hands of one ignorant of its design. It is best for it to remain here in Aceldama, with those who understand how to protect it."
"You could have taken Eymunder from me at any time," Nyori said. "But you came for me yourself, at great risk by exposing yourself to the Reaver. Why go through the trouble of bringing me here?"
Alaric gazed at her for a moment, his eyes practically inhuman. Nyori felt a mouse under the study of a hawk. She could only stand frozen until his gaze finally shifted to the crystallized wand in his hand.
"You are wiser than your years, Shama. It is true; I could have come to you at any time and removed Eymunder if I so wished. But as you are no doubt beginning to suspect, it would have accomplished nothing. So long as you are bound to the fusorb, I cannot use it. That is why you must surrender it to me."