Part 24 (2/2)
”To the death, Bontarc,” Retoc said softly, savagely, as they approached.
Bontarc shook his head imperceptibly. He was no coward, but knew he was no match for Retoc and didn't see why he should lay down his life on the amphitheater sands. ”I'll not fight you to the death, Retoc of Abaria,” he said.
Retoc shrugged as if it weren't very important. ”Well,” he said slowly, ”if you don't want to kill the slayer of your brother....”
Bontarc charged.
Laughing, Retoc was ready for him.
”... Please ... please ... you're just wasting your time. I ... won't ...
tell you.”
”No?” Pirum said, panting. He saw the girl through a haze of anger, frustration, and desire. She was naked, her lips were b.l.o.o.d.y, but her eyes still flashed defiance. Pirum, like most Abarians, was something of a s.a.d.i.s.t.
”Oh, you'll talk,” he said. ”You'll talk.”
”... never....”
He dug his strong finger cruelly into her tender body.
”Bram Forest....” she cried.
The policeman behind the desk was saying things. Bram Forest heard the droning voice, but not the words. Ylia, he thought. Ylia. A moment before, he actually believed he heard her cry out to him in pain. But that couldn't be. Besides, what could he do about it? He was trapped forever on Earth, without the bracelet which could send him, almost on the wings of thought, back to Tarth, to Ylia, to his destiny.
_I love you, girl of Tarth, he thought. I love you, Ylia, more than words and more than worlds._
Something whisperingly cold plucked at him, and for an instant his heart was stilled.
_Ylia!_
Could his love for the girl of Tarth draw him across the unthinkable abyss?
”... immodestly attired and ...” the desk sergeant was saying.
_Ylia, Ylia, call me! Draw me to you, girl of Tarth._
_... bramforesthelp...._
_Ylia! I hear you! I hear you!_
”What the heck's he doing? Praying?” the patrolman asked.
For Bram Forest was staring devoutly at nothing, staring at the air in front of his face there in the mundane precinct room as if it held a radiant vision.
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