by Linda Palmer
Chapter Fifteen
Evil Incarnate
"Just a sec." I pulled away from Matt and turned back toward the entrance. "You know we can’t leave the poPs behind—"
"Fine then. Do what you have to do. I’m going,"
Not sure how to react, I thought quickly. Matt was right, we needed to follow the Sairons. But the kids were in a strange environment. Call it Guardian—or just plain maternal—instinct, but I knew I couldn’t abandon them without some explanation.
Rocc.
Knowing that Tirafalen now ministered to him at the healing center, I mentally called out. Would he be able to answer me, I wondered, since he'd had trouble with this way of communicating in the past? Surprisingly, he answered at once, his presence almost as strong and healthy as usual. With relief washing over me, I explained that I'd return in a little while. I asked him to have one of the teens watch the kids.
Sensing his agreement, I broke the mental connection...or tried to. An image of Tirafalen with a knowing smile popped into my head at the last second. I took that as a promise the Sunsanean would look after Rocc. That was as disconcerting as it was comforting. I got the distinct impression that she had somehow aided Rocc in our mental connection.
"Through with your mental catch-up?" Matt sounded impatient. "We’re going to lose sight of them."
"You've forgotten that older Sairons aren’t particularly good at hide-and-seek, at least in the dark."
"Yeah, well, it's getting lighter by the minute."
It wasn’t long before we spotted the familiar Sairon glow not too far ahead. Matt's stealth, a reminder that trailing our hosts might be considered rude, unnerved me. I realized that my heart now pounded so loudly I could actually hear it. Or could I?
"Drums." I noted that their steady rhythm mimicked my rapid heartbeat.
We soon left the village behind us and after what felt like an eternity, the Sairons slowed to a near halt. The sun, still below the horizon, gave off little light, so it was all Matt and I could do to keep from stumbling on the loose pebbles that littered the path.
I wondered why the Sairons didn't notice our presence. Either they didn't mind being followed or they were so focused on their mission that they actually did not sense us. I suspected the latter. Something told me I now walked where few Ionians had walked before, and might not be welcome.
A sudden shrill cry and the flutter of wings made Matt start and step back, barely missing my toes. I threw out my hands to catch him. "Just a clangor. That's a bird, Matt. Nothing to worry about."
"So they don't attack?"
"Nope."
"Good. For a second there, I was almost wishing we were back in Bingo Land."
"Why would you?"
"It was weird, too, but harmless. I’m not so sure about Balmythra."
Matt's criticism of my homeland hurt. "But this is such a gentle place…" I shut up when I remembered the Dagonel.
"At least I know how that thing got its name." Matt slapped his right ear as though he'd temporarily lost his hearing. Meanwhile, the bird's abrasive cry faded in the distance.
The sun finally rose, but quickly hid behind low storm clouds. We could make out more details of the rugged landscape, though. The Sairons appeared to be headed to a crack in the wall of a mountain just ahead.
Had we walked all the way to Mount Memnoptar? I struggled to regain my Balmythran sense of direction. Then a memory, an unfamiliar one, confirmed that this was, indeed, Memnoptar, one of my favorite childhood places and one of the higher peaks in the Palmandarius region.
Stopping a moment to catch the breath I'd lost climbing the sharp incline, I noted there were no children among the group. That ruled out one of the ordinary morning services that I’d observed when I was young. I recalled that Sairons had way more ceremonies than any other Balmythran inhabitants and loved to have guests in attendance. Briefly, I searched my new mental data bank, but found no explanations for what they might be doing now.
"Whoa!" Matt whispered. "Did someone just pull a Gandalf?"
I saw that a section of the rock was now an arched doorway. We watched the Sairons file into the mountain. The next instant, I recoiled.
Matt stopped and turned to me. "What's wrong?"
"Maybe we shouldn’t.... I mean, the Sairons are very private people." I couldn’t help feeling hesitant. Following them was more than rude, it was disrespectful, and my conscience naturally bothered me. "This could be a simple meeting...."
"Look, Leah, I may not be one bit psychic, but I picked up some pretty bad vibes when I saw them skulk off a while ago."
"Sairons don’t skulk."
Matt ignored that and stayed put while the last one vanished. He turned his full attention on me. "Aren't you feeling anything?"
I shook my head.
With obvious exasperation, Matt pivoted sharply and headed up the path, which turned downwards and then leveled off again before sloping up the side of the mountain.
I followed more slowly. The oddest of sensations began to bombard me—sensations I struggled to put a name to. "Ancient."
Matt glanced back. "What is?"
"Not sure. This ceremony, maybe? The Sairons themselves? It's just an impression I’m getting." An uncomfortable, prickly hunch slowly solidified into firm thought as we moved nearer the dark crevice. I began to breathe even harder, but didn't know if it was from the elevation or fear.
The heartbeat of the drum grew louder as we neared the door-like fissure into the mountain. Really close now, I realized it was the entrance to what appeared to be a deep cave. The drumbeat now reverberated, and I felt its vibration to my very bones.
Sweat beaded my upper lip. My stomach knotted in anticipation of something horrible. Disturbing impressions of shadowy darkness began slamming my consciousness, a thousand times worse than what I'd felt at Pringle's. I made myself follow Matt through the cave opening.
On the brink of the cool, dark cavern, the drums sounded even louder, faster, and more primitive. I heard a high, piercing chant. At once, my need to know everything abandoned me, but Matt moved farther into the cave. I didn't need to follow; I already saw everything too clearly in my mind. Mouth dry, hands like ice, I bolted from the site. My feet slipped on the rocks, and I tumbled right down the trail, crashing just a few yards from the doorway. Pain stabbed my ankle. Matt followed seconds later, spraying dirt and gravel as he slid down the bank to reach me. "Damn Leah. Are you okay?"
I couldn't answer. An image seared my mind—an image of glowing Sairons encircling an infinite abyss. To the accompaniment of rhythmic chanting, they held hands while an amorphous blackness, a vile thing with a life of its own, writhed and rose above them.
"Answer me. Are. You. Okay?"
I tried to block my mind's eye, but visualized every detail clearly, right down to each facial expression. I saw Jor—heard him chanting with the others. His furrowed brow, flushed face, and glistening skin revealed the intensity of his concentration. A sudden spasm rocked his body, and a dark entity emerged from it, swirling into the blackness that hovered overhead. I felt as much as saw the immediate change in him. He opened his eyes and smiled in triumph, an expression mirrored on the faces of all the other Sairons present. Above them, their hideous creation pulsed with evil, a direct contrast to the joyful celebration below.
"You're freezing cold."
The chanting grew louder as Matt pulled me close and tried to rub some warmth back into my limp arms. But no amount of effort could penetrate the chill that now consumed me. The chanting became one long wail.
"Hang in there, okay? One of us has to see what’s happening." Matt eased me to the ground and into a sitting position before scrambling back up to the entrance. I saw him slip through it again, knew he hovered just inside the door where he couldn’t possibly see what I saw now.
The foul thing the Sairons had made, now engorged and thrashing, sank slowly into the deep crevasse. Malevolence permeated as the eerie sound began to fade, and an image fl
ashed in my mind's eye. The gorgol! I fell back in horror. The world went gray and began closing in on me. But before I drowned in my own personal void, a burst of life force escaped the dark abyss and pierced my heart like an arrow.
My parents!
And then they were gone.
Gravel showered my legs and feet as Matt slid to a stop at my elbow once again. "We've gotta get out of here." He began tugging me up and hefted me into his arms.
Sobbing, frantic, I was no help at all as he lifted me. "They’ve got Mom and Dad, Matt. They've got them."
"Who has?"
"The Sairons."
That decided him. "I've got to get you to the healer." Matt struggled to descend the sharp incline, but my dead weight made balancing difficult. "Could you help me just a little here?"
I automatically wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. Behind, we heard scraping rocks and the low conversations of the Sairons leaving the cavern.
"Don’t guess you could walk." Matt was clearly struggling, thanks to the incline and thin mountain air. He shifted my body, a move that almost tripped him, and then continued on course with utmost care and much too slowly. "This is crazy. We've got to hide."
"Too late," I said even as Jor spotted us and probed my thoughts. I immediately shut him out. "They know we're here. Put me down."
Matt spit out a curse I'd never heard him use. I barely noticed. I felt so dead inside. Jor, my childhood idol, had betrayed us. How? Why? What could've happened to change him so much?
Matt walked to a patch of grass and lowered me to the ground again. Squatting next to me, he watched as a group of Sairons drew closer. "What should we do?"
"Wait."
As Jor came closer, he continued to seek access to my thoughts, probably because he sensed my tumultuous emotions. I steeled myself against him, knowing I could never confess the extent of what I now knew. My friends and I would be in terrible danger.
What else was he hiding from me? My brain avoided the question, probably because I couldn't handle any more revelations at the moment. Knowing that Sairons were capable of creating such evil, knowing that they held my parents captive...those truths were bad enough.
Just then, the sun popped out from behind a storm cloud and spilled golden light over the valley below, challenging my dark mood. I reached out to Rocc mentally, and, through his eyes, saw the poPs dressed in Balmythran clothes and lounging on luxurious pillows. They talked eagerly with Lucianis, Mandaus, and, I realized, Ilsada. Tirafalen was there, too.
I noted how my brother's gaze lingered on the mist being when projecting these images. Another time that might have amused me, but now I felt nothing but intense despair. I intended to keep these feelings from Rocc, of course. Though he sent me reassurances, I knew he hadn't fully recovered from Mad Matilda's shovel.
Were there any other Ionians in Saironalis? I sent out mental feelers and tried to connect with someone.
"Alleana."
That voice, so calm and familiar, reinforced my thoughts, and for a brief moment I was certain an Ionian had responded. Then Matt sharply elbowed me into the present. I realized Jor stood right in front of me.
"You’re hurt." He knelt and touched my ankle, an action that resulted in my involuntary recoil. Jor didn't seem to notice. Instead, he focused solely on healing me. Intense heat spread from his hands, around and through my bruised ankle. I knew the exact moment the muscles mended and quickly withdrew my leg from his grasp.
"It’s fine now." I stood up immediately to prove it.
Jor stared at me, his expression unreadable. Disconcerted, I looked away, glad that he no longer attempted to invade my thoughts. I wasn't sure how long I could hold out against him.
"Er, thanks." Motioning for Matt to follow me to the valley, I headed in that direction without looking back. I was Guardian now. I had to be strong. It was past time to do what I had to do, even if that meant facing the Dagonel.
As for the Sairons…
I shivered at the thought of them. Jor said he brought me home because Balmythra needed a Guardian, yet they had one in captivity. Was that going to be my fate, too?