“What happened, Damian?”
Damian sat down beside me and took my hand. “When Yatol came back, none of us could talk to him. We didn’t know what had happened, except I knew you had called me to open the portal.”
“Was he angry?”
“I don’t think so. He seemed…desolate. Not angry. Certainly not at you.”
Desolate. Oh God… I covered my mouth with my other hand.
“He fought alongside us as we retreated, but there was just this look in his eyes…I don’t know what it was. Resignation, perhaps. Maybe anticipation. But Tyhlaur was so upset – he kept talking to Enhyla, and trying to talk to Yatol, but Yatol wouldn’t say anything to him. Aniira too. Until she got wounded, she and Tyhlaur were always with him. It went on like that for days. He fought so hard we were mostly just glad to have his help, but I wished I could do something for him.
“Then suddenly the Ungulion began withdrawing, not marching away, but it was like they were being torn away and dragged somewhere else. And then I heard you calling me, and Mykyl came and told me to open and guard the portal. Yatol told me that the Ungulion would be too many and too strong for me to hold the portal by myself. He said it wasn’t enough to guard this side alone. I begged him not to go, but he said, ‘It is my gift, and now is my hour.’ Onethyl went through the portal, and Mykyl carried Yatol through. You know the rest.”
“He told me once about that…gift.” I choked on the word, then said through my tears, “He told me it was a death-gift, but I never understood. Oh, Damian, if only the Brethren could bring him back now, like they did before…”
I gazed across the glade as I spoke, and saw Akhmar coming toward us. I broke down and ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck.
“Akhmar!”
“Child, look at me.”
I wavered, then turned my eyes to his.
“Do not weep for him.”
“How can you understand?” I cried, tearing away from him. “It can’t be any different for you now. But for us he’s gone! He’s gone…and I’ll never see him again.”
“But he sees you,” he said gently. His gaze shifted past me. “The others have come. Go and do him honor.”
I glanced back at them, then as I turned to say something to Akhmar, I found he was gone. And I knew without anyone telling me that it was the last time I would see him.
I returned to the others, watching them work, cold and desolate. Dad, Kurtis and Enhyla took down one of the blue-cascade trees and cut away two of its faces to reveal the satin-smooth, pewter flesh within. Mr. Dansy helped them carry it to the other side of the glade where the trees grew close and tall, and laid it between the trunks.
I thought I heard the faintest strain of music, like chimes piercing a quiet night. It almost seemed the trees bowed their sapphire heads over the length of trunk, forming a bower of starlit blue. I watched Tyhlaur bathe Yatol’s arms and face, the water streaming from his skin tinged red. When the blood had been washed away they carried him to the bier of silver wood. Enhyla had strewn handfuls of tiny flowers over it, their honey-sweet scent drifting like incense under the blue cascades.
I heard Enhyla sing, saw Tyhlaur still overwrought with grief. My dad too…his eyes shone with tears. Kurtis and Damian stood a little withdrawn, and no one paid me any attention where I sat leaning against one of the trees. I was glad of the solitude. I wondered if Yatol was, too. My eyes closed and I let myself drift in that numb, obscure space, with Enhyla’s voice weaving plaintive around me, and the wind soft on my face. When the song ended, my father bade Enhyla and Tyhlaur farewell. Footsteps shuffled past in the verdant grass, then someone took my hands in a warm clasp. I opened my eyes and found Tyhlaur kneeling before me.
I couldn’t say a word to him. But the grief in his eyes mirrored my own, and I only sat holding his gaze, trying to hold back my tears. I threw my arms around him.
“I’m so sorry,” I wept. “Be consoled, Tyhlaur.”
“And you.” He withdrew, smiling sadly at me and gripping my hands. “Farewell, Merelin.”
I watched him go, and realized that I was alone. Only Yatol remained, silent and still under a canopy of stars. I sat a while unmoving, staring at the table of living wood bathed in silver-blue light. After a moment, I crept to the bier and knelt beside it, gazing down at Yatol’s tranquil face.
“It seems so strange,” I murmured to him, the sound of my voice in the quiet jarring me. “I don’t want to go home. This is my home. Oh God, Yatol, how can I go back?” I paused, then said with sudden bitterness, “I wish I had died in K’hama, because then I could have been laid to rest here in the Branhau with you, and I’d never have to leave this place. I can’t bear the thought of going and never coming back. But…you have.” My throat closed and my vision swam. “So maybe it’s not so hard. You always gave me strength, Yatol. Give me strength now. I just wish I’d had a chance to thank you. To tell you…I love you.”
I dropped my head onto his hands, sobbing. Why wasn’t he waking up? Didn’t that always happen in the stories? I laid my hand on his cheek, brushed back the tangled strands of hair. Wake up…
Golden light washed over me, mingled with opaline blue. I wiped away my tears as I turned to see who had come. Onethyl and Mykyl. Soon they too would be lost to me.
Mykyl held out his hand. In it was the Blade of Heaven.
“Once I gave this blade to Yatol,” he said. “It was my arming dagger from the Battle of Heaven before the dawn of the universe. I give it to you now, to do with as you please.”
I hesitated before taking the blade. “He never told me what it was,” I whispered. “I’m not worthy to keep this gift, though I thank you for it with all my heart.” I turned back to the bier, placed the hilt in Yatol’s radiant palm, and pressed it against his breast. “It belongs to the man who first bore it,” I said. Whispered, “Goodbye, Yatol.”
I bent and kissed his forehead, my tears falling in his hair. Then I drew a deep breath and closed my eyes.
“I will go home now, Onethyl.”
Epilogue
In August we had our family reunion, the first one in four years that felt complete. It was a huge party too, for Dad’s return, for Maggie’s commencement of college, and the celebration of a cousin’s thirteenth birthday. It was a scalding day, cerulean-skied and cloudless, tolerable only with the dry wind out of the southwest. We drank lemonade by the gallon, and our dog Jas and several of my cousins planted themselves under the cool spray of a mister.
I sat with Dad and Damian under the old magnolia, Dad with his mint julep and Damian and I sipping icy pink lemonade. We weren’t talking – we still had a hard time not talking to each other in the tongue of Arah Byen. So we sat in pleasant silence under the dark magnolia boughs, watching the happy chaos around us. My cousins started a water balloon fight, accidentally breaking one over the table of salads. Two of my uncles were grilling bratwurst on the grill, but no one complained when the salads got splashed or two of the sausages burned. It was one of those happy days when nothing could go wrong, when we laughed at every silly accident because there was no point in getting upset.
Dad went to help with the grill, and a moment later Damian went into the house to get something for one of my younger cousins. I felt no inclination to move. I leaned against the tree trunk, smiling briefly for Maggie who was taking pictures on her new camera. She must have taken over a hundred pictures already, acting as self-appointed official reunion photographer. After a while she dragged an older cousin over to a table to review her work. They laughed over some of the photos, and crooned over others – probably pictures of my Aunt Celeste’s new baby. My cousin demanded one or two be deleted, and was indignant when Maggie refused.
“Oh, Mer!” Maggie called suddenly. “Come see this!” I got up and ambled over, hearing her say to my cousin, “I’ve discovered my hidden talent. I should be a photographer.” I joined them and she held out the camera. “That’s the one I just took of you. Awesome, right?”
I peered at the picture. I grimaced at first – Damian was the photogenic one, not me. Then my breath caught, and tears stung my eyes.
There, just past my left shoulder, was a shimmer of light.
Sneak Peek: Subverter (The Sequel to Down a Lost Road)
Chapter 1
It had only been three months since I’d seen him, so I didn’t expect that I wouldn’t recognize him.
My gaze flitted over the rows of shaved heads and green-on-green athletic uniforms lining up in front of us. I searched each stern, unsmiling face, trying desperately to find Damian’s. Finally I saw him, third from the left in the second row, staring straight ahead like the other recruits. Without all his hair he looked so much older. I couldn’t say he seemed stronger or tougher or more serious – I’d seen all those qualities in him since the day we returned from Arah Byen. He’d seen the face of war, and it had never left him. Somehow I’d always known he would end up in the military.
Maggie and my best friend Darcy crowded close beside me, almost making me deaf with their cheer and whistles. I couldn’t seem to find my voice. I’d gotten over the whole crying thing a year ago, but this scene threatened to break my record. Then everyone fell silent to listen as someone who looked important started talking about how he had turned these recruits into Marines. The platoon was called to attention.
Vaguely I felt Darcy shaking me, heard Mom asking if I’d seen him. Saying how strong he looked. I watched, numb, as the platoon turned and jogged off to finish their motivational run.
The next few hours passed in a blur. We were herded from one place to the next, ending up on bleachers to watch the parade. Finally my excitement caught up with me. I counted minutes until I could finally hug him, talk to him, ask him how he was. Tell him how proud I was. Tell him how much I’d missed him. God, I’d really missed him.
The platoons reappeared, marching now to the cadence of the military band. I didn’t pay any attention to the things that were said, the words of advice for families, instructions to the recruits. I just kept my gaze fixed on Damian’s platoon. Then, abruptly, everything dissolved into a chaos of activity. The platoons broke up, the people in the stands were cheering, shouting, and clapping, shoving past and trying to track down loved ones. I stood close to Darcy, trying to avoid being trampled.
“Go find Damian,” Mom said, shoving us gently. “We’ll wait here. Better not make everyone crowd down there.”
Darcy grabbed my arm and hauled me forward before I even had a chance to consider the suggestion. We edged through the herds of people, sidestepping enthusiastic hugs and screaming mothers. Where was Damian? I could’ve sworn I’d just seen him standing near his platoon, but with the forest of people around me, most of them significantly taller than me, I’d lost him.
“Mer!”
I spun around. Damian appeared through a chasm in the crowd, pushing his way toward me, his face one huge grin. I barreled toward him and threw my arms around his neck. He lifted me clear off the ground as he hugged me, but as he released me the grin on his face faded to a strange, sad smile.
Okay, he had changed. He’d changed a lot.
I took half a step back, studying him as if he were some strange exhibit in a museum. My mind couldn’t quite process it all. I didn’t know what to think, what to feel. I wondered if I’d changed as much as he had. Everyone told me I had, since I’d come back from Arah Byen a year ago. I had lost friends over it, friends who couldn’t understand why I was so much more serious, so much more distant than I’d been a few months before. The friends who had stayed friends didn’t understand either, as Darcy always reminded me, but they stood by me anyway.
And while Damian had come back knowing exactly who he was and what he wanted to be, all I seemed to understand was who I wasn’t, what I didn’t want to be. Somehow I’d muddled through senior year, at some point applying for my dad’s university and getting accepted. Now I had a shiny schedule of classes all set to start in a few days, and I hardly cared. All I really wanted was to go back to Arah Byen, but that option simply wasn’t one. Besides, the only person I wanted to go back for wasn’t there anymore, either. I had nothing. My heart was torn between two worlds, belonging to neither. An exile, still. I envied Damian his certainty.
He was hugging Darcy now, grinning at me sidelong as she squeezed him tight, her cheeks bright red against her golden hair. She’d always had a thing for him. Apparently he didn’t mind. Past Damian I made out my parents and Maggie coming toward us, too impatient to wait for us to bring him to them. My mom reached us first, and Damian stooped to receive her proud hug. She clung to him with tears in her eyes, and after a moment I realized he wasn’t just tolerating it. He hung on to her with the same fierce emotion, brows knotted and eyes squeezed shut.
“You must be so proud of yourself,” Mom murmured, patting him on the back.
He lifted a hand to his eyes, while I stared disbelieving. Half of me wanted to look away, but I really just wanted to console him. I wondered if I would ever really be able to understand, or share, what he’d been through those three months. Then he pulled himself together, extracted himself from Mom’s hug, and turned to Dad and Maggie. Maggie rubbed his shaved head with big sister attitude, but Dad just clasped his hand, met his gaze firmly, then embraced him without any words at all. That was so like Dad. He was never one for words when silence could speak just as clearly.
Damian turned away a split second, dashing his hands across his eyes again. I could tell he was trying not to show it, but he failed miserably. We all pretended not to notice.
“Where’s Tony?” he asked, voice husky, as he turned back around.
And that was the question I’d really hoped he wouldn’t ask. Mom smiled at him, sadly, taking hold of one of his strong arms.
“He couldn’t make it, Damian. He sends you his best, though. Wishes he could be here.”
I wondered if Damian could tell it wasn’t true. Poor Mom. I knew from the sincerity in her voice that she desperately wanted it to be true. Tony hadn’t been the same either, since Dad returned with Damian and me last summer. We’d never really been able to explain to him and Maggie where we’d gone, or where Dad had been all those years. It wasn’t the sort of thing that could just be casually explained and then forgotten. And so Tony had reacted to Dad’s return by distancing himself from the family.
I could tell Damian had been hoping that things had improved. But Mom didn’t fool him – I could tell by the sadness in his eyes. He didn’t say anything to upset her, though, just returned her smile and nodded.
“So what should we do now?” Maggie asked.
Damian suddenly spun around, head swinging back and forth as he scanned the crowds. After a moment he stopped looking and beckoned to the person he had located.
“Mom, do you guys mind if a friend of mine comes with us? He doesn’t have anyone here with him.”
My mom’s mouth dropped open with complete horror. “What, no family? No friends?”
“Family’s not on good terms,” Damian said. “It’d mean a lot to him. And to me. He’s like a brother.”
The word held the very faintest touch of venom. I thought of our absent brother, then pushed the thought away. Tony wasn’t going to spoil this for us. After a moment I realized that everyone was nodding approval, but Damian’s gaze was fixed on me. I smiled and shrugged, the best affirmation I could give. I couldn’t really say no. Even I couldn’t be that heartless.
I watched Damian’s friend stride toward us, and Darcy gave me a significant jab in the ribs. My heart sank, just a little. He was tall, well built like all of the recruits, at least as far as I could tell through the bulk of his cammies. Good-looking, I had to give him that. Why did he have to be good-looking? He carried himself just like a Marine, too, hands clasped behind his back, head high, but there was a huge, silly grin on his face. His dark eyes flitted over our little group, and the smile got even bigger when his gaze fell on me. I blushed and stared at the ground.
/>
“Guys, this is Eduardo Garcia. Eddie, my fam.”
As soon we’d all been identified, my mom seized Eduardo in a tight hug.
“We are so proud of you,” she said warmly, as if she’d adopted him then and there.
My dad shook his hand and gripped his shoulder, then Maggie gave him a hug too. Fantastic. Thank you, Mom and sis, for setting a precedent I would have to follow. Still, my heart went out to Eddie. No one should have to face graduation all alone, without anyone to cheer you on, to tell you they were proud of you. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. And from the way his grin had gotten wider than ever I could tell that their hugs meant the world to him.
He turned to me expectantly. Damian was watching me, too, equally expectant. Better and better – apparently my brother had joined the conspiracy against me. I sighed, just a little, and opened my arms. I gave an unintentional gasp of surprise as Eddie practically threw himself into my hug, squeezing me tight like I was a long-lost best friend or a long-absent girlfriend. Yuck.
In some corner of my mind, I remembered the last guy – not related to me – I’d let hold me like that. Yatol. I could still feel his arms tight around me. Hear his words creeping back into my memory,
“I would go anywhere for you.”
“I stood at the gates of Hell for you.”
I jerked away from Eduardo, heart hammering. Oh God, I’d heard him. Heard his voice, right there. Right behind me. I swung around, scanning the mass of humanity, but I only saw crowds of families, friends, and young recruits. My hands started shaking, then after a moment I noticed everyone in the group was staring at me. I tried not to look at Eddie, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him with his hands still extended, his face a perfect mixture of confusion and embarrassment.
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