Part 3 (1/2)
”You'll have to return it to him later,” Beltan said. ”I really don't think we should keep my uncle waiting.”
”Or Melia,” Falken said.
They urged their horses into a trot. Grace's heart soared as she saw the faces of her friends. Aryn looked more beautiful than ever, and older as well. She stood beside Melia, who appeared as regal and ageless as ever, though she clapped her hands together in a display of youthful enthusiasm as the riders drew near. Sir Tarus wore a broad grin, and even King Boreas looked fiercely happy, a toothy smile showing through his black beard.
The only one who wasn't smiling was the slender young man clad all in black. Grace had never seen him before, but all the same she recognized him. Teravian would never be powerfully built like his father, the king of Calavan, and his features were finer, but there was the same sharp, compelling look to his face. At the moment, though, that face was marred by a sullen look. Teravian let out a bored sigh and started to look away-then stopped. His eyes shone, locked on Lirith.
They brought their horses to a halt. Grace didn't wait for Durge to help her, but instead slid from the saddle and raced forward.
”Aryn!” She caught the baroness in a tight hug. The young woman returned the embrace with her left arm.
”Grace, you're here-you're really here!”
Talking long distance over the Weirding had been wonderful, but it couldn't compare to this-the real, living touch of someone she loved.
Grace was aware of the others crowding around. Falken was whirling Melia in an embrace, and Melia was actually laughing. She heard Boreas's booming voice, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Sir Tarus hesitate, then grip Beltan's arms, his expression full of warmth.
For so long they had all been apart, lost in different lands and on different worlds. Now, at last, they were all where they belonged-here, together. For that moment, Grace let herself believe they would never be apart again.
At last, reluctantly, she pulled away from Aryn and turned to greet the king.
”It's about time you paid your obeisance, my lady,” Boreas said with a snort, hands on his hips.
”Greetings, Your Majesty.” Grace curtsied, and with only a slight wobble. When she rose, she was surprised to see the king's smile gone and a thoughtful look in his eyes. ”What is it, Your Majesty?”
”Nothing,” he said, his voice gruff, ”save that I'm not certain it's you who should be paying obeisance. Your Majesty.” He started to move, as if he would kneel before her.
Grace stared, horror flooding her. Boreas was so bold, so proud. He was a king, and she didn't believe there was a stronger man on this or any world. He should never bow before her, no matter what dead kingdom she was supposedly the queen of.
She opened her mouth to stop him, but her words were lost in a peal of thunder.
A shock wave hit her, and a ringing sounded in her ears, shrill as a siren, transporting her for a moment back to the Emergency Department at Denver Memorial Hospital. How many times had she heard that wail approaching as she stood in the ambulance entrance, waiting to put broken people back together? The lightning must have hit close.
Except, last she noticed, the sky had been clear.
Another deafening boom boom ripped through the air, and it wasn't thunder. She heard cries of dismay, and Beltan swore an oath as he pointed. However, by then Grace already saw it: A white cloud of dust and smoke billowed up from the base of the castle's southeastern tower. It shuddered once, then with beautiful slowness slumped and fell over, sliding down the hill in a heap of rubble. ripped through the air, and it wasn't thunder. She heard cries of dismay, and Beltan swore an oath as he pointed. However, by then Grace already saw it: A white cloud of dust and smoke billowed up from the base of the castle's southeastern tower. It shuddered once, then with beautiful slowness slumped and fell over, sliding down the hill in a heap of rubble.
Travis couldn't hear.
People were shouting all around him, but their mouths moved in silence. A suffocating pall enveloped him, like the time he was bound to the null stone outside the Gray Tower of the Runespeakers, and ancient magic had kept him from speaking the runes that would free him.
Beltan and Durge grabbed for the reins of the horses, which were stamping and bucking. Lirith hurried over, moving among the animals, pressing a hand against their necks. As she touched them, the horses grew calmer, though their eyes were still wild. Boreas seemed to be shouting at the guardsmen. Travis couldn't hear what he was saying, though it seemed the men did, for they turned and dashed back through the castle gate, Sir Tarus with them. The king turned around, and his expression was not one of confusion or shock, but one of fury.
The rest of them watched, motionless, as the remains of the stone tower careened down the slope of the hill on which Calavere was built. Although he appeared as surprised as anyone, there was a look of fascination on Prince Teravian's face. Aryn's eyes were shut, but whether it was because she could not bear to witness this sight, or for some other purpose, Travis didn't know.
Like a rockslide in the Colorado mountains, the wreckage of the tower poured over a stretch of the road that led up to the castle. As far as Travis could tell, no one was caught in its path. A few stray blocks of stone spun down the hillside, then all was still. Travis felt a sharp pang in his gut. He had once studied with the runespeakers Rin and Jemis in that tower. Now it was gone.
The others began moving toward the gates, following after Tarus and the guards, and Beltan pulled at Travis's arm. He was saying something, though Travis couldn't make out the knight's words over the ringing in his ears. The sound of the explosion must have deafened him, along with the crash of the wreckage. Only now his hearing was returning, and when Beltan spoke again Travis barely made out his shouted words.
”I've got to go with Tarus to see what happened. Do you want to stay out here?”
Travis shook his head. ”I'm coming with you.”
So was everyone else. Travis found himself next to Grace as they jogged beneath the raised portcullis, through a tunnel, and into the castle's lower bailey. Lords, ladies, peasants, and merchants alike stood frozen in the midst of their comings and goings, staring at the column of smoke and dust that rose into the sky where a tower had stood moments ago.
”What's happening, Grace?” Travis said, trying not to shout even though it was hard to hear his own words.
”I don't know.” Tira's arms seemed welded around her neck. ”As far as I know, castles don't just blow up. What could cause that kind of explosion?”
”Grain?” Travis said, trying to think over the ringing in his ears. ”Back when I was a kid in Illinois, a silo exploded at the farm down the road. The grain dust hanging on the air was so thick it was combustible. A spark from a frayed wire set it off.” Except the fallen spire had been the tower of the castle's runespeakers, not a grain tower. And he doubted there had been any electrical wiring inside.
Grace's face was pale, determined. ”It doesn't matter what caused it. There could be people injured. I've got to go see.” Gently, deliberately, she set Tira on the ground. ”Stay close to Melia.”
Travis gripped her arm. ”It could be dangerous. There could still be falling stones.”
Before Grace could protest, a stooped figure limped across the bailey toward them, white hair fluttering. ”Your Majesty! You must come quickly! There's been-”
”I know, Lord Farvel,” Boreas growled. ”I have eyes-I saw the tower fall. Do you know anything about it?”
”No, Your Majesty. I've sent guards to investigate.”
”As have I, and Sir Tarus is with them. We will get to the bottom of this.” The king turned toward Beltan. ”Nephew, I want you and Sir Durge to see if-”
The king's words were lost as another explosion sundered air and stone. The concussion was instantaneous, slapping Travis to the ground next to Grace. The sky went dark, then sharp fragments of stone began falling in a deadly hail. Before he could scramble to his feet, a crus.h.i.+ng weight landed on top of him.
At first he thought it was a rock, pressing the life out of him. Then he groped, feeling hard muscles, and realized it was Durge. The Embarran had thrown his body over Travis and Grace, protecting them from the falling stone.
Travis clenched his jaw, waiting for the second explosion. Hadn't there been two when the runespeakers' spire fell? However, the second report never came. The sound of thunder rolled away; the ping ping of falling stones slowed and ceased. For an awful moment there was silence. Then a new sound rose on the air all around: wails of pain and confusion. of falling stones slowed and ceased. For an awful moment there was silence. Then a new sound rose on the air all around: wails of pain and confusion.
Travis couldn't breathe. Durge wasn't a rock, but he was every bit as solid as one.
”Durge,” Grace said. ”Off.”
The knight scrambled up, then reached down to help Grace stand; her riding gown was caked with mud. She searched around, looking for Tira, but the girl was safe, clinging to Melia's skirt. Travis staggered to his feet. He might have fallen back down, but strong hands gripped him.
”Are you injured?” Vani said, her gold eyes holding him as surely as her hands. Her black leathers were spotless, as if she had simply dodged the falling debris.
”I'm fine. What about everyone else?”
Travis turned. One of the blocky guard towers that stood above the castle gate tilted at an odd angle. A hole yawned in its side like a mouth full of broken teeth; black smoke poured out its upper windows as if it were a chimney. The tunnel through which all of them had run just moments ago was now half-filled with rubble. If they had been in there . . .
He tried not to think about it. Most of them were scuffed and battered, and Lord Farvel was trembling and could not keep his feet without Falken's a.s.sistance. However, after a moment, it became clear the only one who was actually hurt was King Boreas.
”It's nothing,” the king said with a grunt as Grace probed the rapidly growing lump on the top of his head. Blood matted his black hair. ”It was a pebble, that's all. You needn't fuss.”
The king's credibility was immediately countered by the way his knees buckled. Beltan caught him under the armpits to keep him from falling.
”You could have a concussion,” Grace said, and Travis doubted she noticed that she had forgotten to call him Your Majesty Your Majesty. She shut her eyes, then opened them again. ”In fact, you do. It's mild. You're not in serious danger-as long as you lie still and do nothing.”