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Nightlord: Sunset

Page 102

by Garon Whited


  I gave my head a shake. It didn’t come apart, but a reddish film seemed to obscure my vision. Something in my chest felt missing, as though a hole had been carved through me. I hadn’t realized how important she was to me.

  Shada is gone. Laughing eyes and smiling lips…

  Linnaeus had Firebrand; he held it out and I took it. I got to my feet. I felt a slow throb, somewhere inside. It wasn’t a heartbeat, no—it was more like a rhythmic flexing of my every cell of my body, of my blood, in time with the adagio pulse of the universe.

  Shada is gone. Soft hands and soft voice…

  Keria was still screaming something, trying to get me to answer her while the horde of Things came closer at a slithering, hopping, scrambling run. Linnaeus was trying to add his two cents to whatever she was saying.

  I looked at them and tried to say something. I don’t know what. All I heard was a low, animal snarl. Keria’s eyes and mouth flew open, three perfect circles of shock and terror, and she promptly ran. Something in me thought that was a good thing. Another part wanted to chase her down and kill her—she was running, after all. Linnaeus stood his ground and lowered his eyes—I think he sensed something atavistic and primal surfacing.

  Shada… is dead.

  But here are a lot of Things, and all of them are running. Running toward me instead of away, foolish Things. There are people here, hurting them, even killing them, but the humans will not interfere with me. Firebrand feels light and quick in my grip as I move toward the Things, bounding down the tiers like a dancer. All the world is reddish, hazy. Fury escapes my heart at last, flooding outward like liquid fire, filling my body and mind.

  I move forward to kill.

  EPILOGUE

  It was dark. This was not the seething blackness of the Devourer-cloud, nor the cold emptiness of outer space. It wasn’t the not-being-ness of nothing. This was a warm darkness, like an old bed at night.

  “Sleep, shadow-child.”

  I heard the voice, not as a voice, but as an awareness of intent. I was so tired it felt and sounded like a very good idea. But that curiosity itch…

  “Who are you?”

  I felt amusement in the voice. “The aunt who took you home. The goddess you glorify.”

  “That doesn’t really tell me anything.”

  “You will discover my identity for yourself. In that way, you will know, rather than simply be told.”

  That made a sort of sense. The lessons you learn on your own are yours forever. I realized I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was so tired.

  “Why is it so dark?” I asked.

  I felt lips once more upon my brow.

  “You have done much in a short time, and it is a difficult thing to shift the fate of a world. You are wearied and must take a great sleep. You live longer than mortal men; you must sleep longer, as well.”

  I didn’t want to, but I was so tired. I sank down into sleep like death. Dimly, I heard the voice again.

  “I will wake you when it is time.”

  And then I knew no more.

  Table of Contents

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  EPILOGUE

 

 

 


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