Part 41 (2/2)
”Azilis? Where are you?” The anguished question echoed around the Rift, a rumble of distant thunder. ”Why can't I hear your voice anymore?”
A dark, disturbing aura was emanating from the stranger-powerful yet bitter, poisoned with despair. As Rieuk crouched, watching, the daemon walked away into the darkness, still calling forlornly, ”My daughter? Where are you?”
It was only when the daemon had gone that he noticed another faint s.h.i.+mmer overhead; the ghost of the emerald moon had momentarily reappeared as the clouds of dust and shadow scudded past. And by its uncertain light, he saw at last what he had been searching for: the tall silhouette of the Emerald Tower in the far distance.
A soft light suffused Rieuk's dreams, leading him slowly back to consciousness. At first he just gazed at the white walls of his chamber, recognizing familiar objects: the jewel-bright wall hanging from the silk weavers of Tyriana; the crystals he had fas.h.i.+oned for his own amus.e.m.e.nt into the shapes of hawks; his books of lore, collected on his travels...
”Am I really back?” he asked aloud. ”Or am I still dreaming?”
”So you're awake at last.” Lord Estael stood in the doorway.
”How-how long have I been away?”
Estael opened the shutters. The daylight seared Rieuk's sight; he turned his head away. He had become a creature of the night, forgetting how mercilessly strong the light of the Enhirran sun could be.
”We thought we'd lost you,” said Estael bluntly. ”I sent Almiras in after you but when he could find no trace of Ormas, we thought you were gone too.”
Rieuk's time in the caves of aethyr crystal had already begun to seem like a dream; his recollection was becoming blurred and unreliable. ”Was it days? Weeks?”
Estael hesitated. ”Over three years.”
”Three years?” Rieuk grabbed Estael by the shoulder, pulling his face close to his own. ”Don't lie to me.” ”Don't lie to me.”
”Time flows differently in the Rift,” Estael said contemptuously. ”Why else would we have put Imri's body to rest in there? Have you learned nothing?”
Rieuk was too weak to keep his grip on Estael; his hand dropped back to his side. ”But Imri was dead. For the living...”
”Only those with mage blood can survive that long in there; an ordinary mortal would have died.”
”I only had a bottle of water... a loaf of bread, cheese, dates...” Rieuk closed his eyes, exhausted by the effort of puzzling out what had happened to him. ”How could I survive three years on such meager rations?”
”How long did it seem to you?” Estael's voice penetrated his stupor.
”A week, maybe two. It took me a while to locate the crystal cave. Then I couldn't find my way back; the whole landscape of the Rift had altered and I couldn't see the Emerald Tower any longer.” Against the darkness he saw again the terrifying shadow of the Drakhaoul stalking through the darkness. ”Until he he appeared.” appeared.”
”He?” Estael bent over him. ”You don't mean-”
”The Drakhaoul. He was searching for his daughter. He called her Azilis.”
”You saw Prince Nagazdiel in the Rift?” Estael's tone had become urgent, excited. ”We must tell the Arkhan. This is... extraordinary.”
”The Arkhan?” Rieuk felt the old loathing rise up within him. ”Are you still in thrall to that madman, Estael? Hasn't one of you had the guts to stand up to him? After all he's put you through?”
”Lord Estael!” Men's voices could be heard from outside the tower. Estael left his bedside while Rieuk drifted uneasily between sleep and consciousness.
”Rieuk Mordiern,” said a stern voice. He opened his eyes to see one of Sardion's captains standing over him. ”The Arkhan has ordered me to bring you to him. Straightaway.”
CHAPTER 2.
Kaspar Linnaius brought the sky craft slowly down, circling above the Swanholm estate, affording King Enguerrand a magnificent view of the Emperor's palace. But Enguerrand, still suffering from airsickness, was in no condition to appreciate the grandeur of his rival's home. Clutching the side of the craft for dear life, he closed his eyes and prayed for a safe landing while Aude held his other hand and whispered comforting words in his ear.
”Welcome to Swanholm!” The Emperor rose to greet Enguerrand with open arms.
Enguerrand, his knees trembling from the flight, tottered forward, and was surprised when Eugene embraced him heartily. ”You're not well,” the Emperor said in concerned tones. ”I'll have my personal physician attend you.”
”Forgive me.” As Eugene helped him into a chair, Enguerrand realized how grateful he felt. He caught hold of his hand and said, ”Your imperial highness, I don't know how to begin to thank you-”
”Please, call me Eugene. We'll talk later when you've recovered from the journey.”
While Enguerrand and Aude were shown to their guest rooms and Gustave was making arrangements to summon Doctor Amandel, the Emperor took Linnaius through to his private apartments.
”Thanks to you, my dear Kaspar, we hold a trump card in our hands.”
Linnaius nodded. He was very weary. The long journey back to Swanholm had been difficult-partly because of his concerns over Enguerrand's frail state of health, and partly due to his own failing powers. But Eugene seemed even more energetic than usual, pacing his study restlessly as he outlined his plans aloud.
”I've given orders that no one is to leave the estate. Our royal guest's ident.i.ty must remain a secret until we are ready to act. The element of surprise is still ours, and we must use it to our best advantage.” Linnaius recognized that crafty gleam in Eugene's eyes; the Emperor was in his element, devising a strategy to outwit the Francian government. ”But what happens next depends largely on Enguerrand.”
The inner door opened and Astasia came running in.
”Where's Andrei?”
”He's safe and well in Serindher, imperial highness.”
”He's alive? You've seen him?” Astasia's eyes brimmed with tears. ”But why didn't you bring him back, Magus?” she cried accusingly.
Linnaius sighed. He had not been looking forward to breaking the news to the Empress. ”He chose to stay behind and help the priests rebuild the mission.”
”He-?” Astasia stopped, obviously at a loss for words. ”My brother?”
”It's an admirable choice,” said Eugene, slipping his arm around his wife's waist and steering her out of his study. ”I can't think of a better way for him to employ his time productively. Perhaps we should appoint him as our next amba.s.sador to Serindher...”
When he returned a few minutes later, he said quietly to Linnaius, ”She's not been sleeping well of late. She claims to... have seen a ghost.”
”What manner of ghost?” Linnaius inquired, puzzled.
”Valery Va.s.sian. The one who died protecting her from her brother's Drakhaoul. Of course, I'd normally say that it's just her imagination if it weren't for the fact that...”
”That you've seen the ghost too?”
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