“She told me of a compound she carries,” Erlin said, face tense as he stared into the fire. “Some ancient Lonak concoction that can instill pain, enough to bring a man to the point of death if used in sufficient quantity, or purge him of an unwanted soul.”
Vaelin nodded. Lyrna and Frentis had left him in no doubt of the power contained in the Mahlessa’s compound, though he had yet to see it for himself.
“The Ally had a gift,” Erlin went on. “The nature of which we do not understand, but it was powerful enough to bring down an entire civilisation. A gift he may well bring with him should he be drawn back from the Beyond.”
“I know,” Vaelin said. “But we have come to a point where I believe we have little option but to trust the words of the seer. You will touch the black stone in Volar, but it will not be you.”
“How do we know it will end this? How do we know it won’t simply make him stronger? You saw him in the memory stone, he wanted to touch it.”
“But he also feared it, enough to have it secreted away for centuries.”
Erlin’s hands trembled as he held them to the fire, Vaelin frowning at the grin that played over his lips. “I’m afraid, brother. All these years, so much seen and heard and tasted. And yet I still want more. My nameless wife was often heard to call me selfish, usually before she threw something.”
“You have saved many,” Vaelin reminded him. “Two of them children who grew into the brave people who ride with us now.”
“Just more selfishness, I’m afraid. If I saved enough, I imagined they would eventually fight the war for me, bring down the Ally, and spare me the trials of battle.” He gave Vaelin a sidelong glance. “What would your queen do, if she were presented with this particular dilemma?”
“She would act for the good of the Realm.”
Erlin grunted a laugh. “You mean she would have had me tied in a trice and force-fed the Mahlessa’s compound until the Ally was safely caged in my flesh. Should you prevail in this struggle, don’t you worry what she might become? I’ve seen many a monarch, brother, but none like her.”
“She is not the Ally. Nor will she ever be.”
“Are you so certain? You saw him in the city he built, the way his people loved him. And yet somehow his power grew to a point where it became absolute, and there was no one to stop him.”
“Lionen stopped him. He killed the Ally and sent him to the Beyond.”
Erlin lowered his hands, drawing them back to cross his arms. “We could wait, delay until we reach Volar . . .”
“His creature still has possession of a body in Alpira. If we delay, it might die, and the Ally could send it for you.”
Vaelin watched Erlin’s face for a moment, seeing the faint tic below his eye, the bulge of his jaw as he clenched his teeth. No notion of how many years he’s lived, witness to every wonder this world can offer, subject of myth and legend, now just a scared man shivering in a ruined hut.
“If it should come to pass that you can’t get him to the stone,” Erlin said, “I require your promise you will not kill this body. You will use the compound to return him to the Beyond.”
“You have it. I will preserve you.”
“Me?” Erlin bared his teeth in what might have been a smile. “I doubt there will be any me left when he’s done, brother.” He rose, still hugging himself tight and moving away with a stiff gait, his parting words little more than a whisper. “Give me tonight. We’ll see it done in the morning.”
• • •
He had Alturk see to the binding, the Lonak made strong rope and the Tahlessa’s knots were unlikely to loosen. “Room enough to breathe only,” Vaelin told him as he drew the rope tight around Erlin’s chest.
Kiral came forward as Alturk finished the final knot, Erlin wincing with the strain as he knelt, chest roped from shoulders to waist and his arms secured behind his back. Kiral took a deep breath as she undid the stopper on the flask. “I . . .” she began, crouched next to Erlin, her voice faltering. “This will . . . hurt. I’m sorry.”
He gave an impatient bob of his head. “So I’m told, my dear. Best get it done quickly then.”
She rose, placing a thin reed into the flask. “One drop to cast them out,” she said in a murmur, presumably reciting a lesson from the Mahlessa. “Two to draw them in.”
Erlin’s eyes flashed at Vaelin as she stepped closer. Words were irrelevant, the meaning clear in his moist gaze. Do not forget your promise.
Kiral drew the reed from the flask, the tip gleaming with something dark and viscous, then lowered it so two drops fell free to land on Erlin’s exposed skin. Vaelin had expected screams, but instead Erlin stiffened, teeth clenched together and neck bulging, his face transformed into a red mask of purest agony. After a second he collapsed, writhing on the ground as foam bubbled from his mouth, legs drumming the earth. The convulsions continued for a full minute until Erlin finally lay still, all animation seeming to seep from his limbs, his head lolling slack on his shoulders.
For a moment Vaelin was certain he had killed him, that this great design had been revealed as the desperate ploy of a grieving fool . . . But then, Erlin blinked.
He rolled upright, remaining on his knees, sparing a brief glance at the ropes that bound him before raising his gaze. His expression was curious, inquisitive, lacking malice or anger as his eyes tracked across them, lingering on Vaelin, whereupon he smiled. It was a genuine smile, warm, even appreciative, as was his voice when he spoke, Erlin’s polyglot accent moulded into something stronger, the tone deeper, “Thank you.”
He closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky, smiling yet wider as the air played over his skin.
“Kill it!” It was Kiral, standing well back from the bound man, face bleached to near whiteness as her cat crouched at her side, fangs bared. “This is wrong!”
“The decision is mine,” Vaelin told her. “Regardless of your song.”
“We should never have done this.” Her hand moved unconsciously to the knife in her belt. “My song screams it.” She started forward, drawing her knife.
“He needs to be taken to Volar,” Vaelin said, stepping into her path. “And I will take him there.”
“You don’t understand,” she hissed at him. “This entire journey, every life taken and lost, every battle fought. We have done everything it wants, taking it closer to its goal with every step.”
Vaelin turned to the bound man, now regarding him with placid features, free of fear or protestation. “We will make an ending, you and I,” he said, and began to laugh.
• • •
“What was your name?”
The bound man didn’t turn at Vaelin’s question. He sat at ease on the saddle he had been tied to, continually preoccupied with the passing landscape as Vaelin rode ahead leading his mount, eyes bright and wide as if trying to capture every detail. “My wife called me husband, my children called me father,” he said. “The only names I ever truly needed.”
Vaelin frowned in consternation. The idea of this thing fathering offspring was both absurd and appalling. “You had children?”
“Yes. Two boys and a girl.”
“What became of them?”
“I killed them.” The Ally looked up at the sky, a faint expression of wonder on his face as he spied a lone bird wheeling above, one of the broad-winged vultures common to the mountains.
“Why?” Vaelin asked.
The Ally’s face darkened a little as he turned to him, puzzlement and anger mingling on his brow. “A father’s duty is often a hard one, but cannot be shirked. A truth you will never discover, for which you should thank me.”
“So you intend to kill me?”
“You killed yourself the second you opened this body to me. The girl is right, this particular circumstance suits my purpose very well.”
“How? How does it suit your purpose?”
“You know I won’t tell you that, regardless of what tortures you might inflict on this flesh. Fear not though, the answers will not be long in coming.”
They rode in silence for much of the day, Orven’s guardsmen scouting ahead whilst the Sentar guarded the flanks and rear. Kiral kept close to Astorek, both staying far back along the line of march with his wolves close on all sides. From the continued paleness of her complexion Vaelin deduced her song hadn’t abated. Lorkan and Cara were less afraid, regarding the Ally with a wary curiosity, though so far only Vaelin had spoken to him.
“Why don’t you ask me?” the Ally said eventually, his eyes lingering on clouds gathering to shroud the late afternoon sun. “Surely you want to know if I caught her.”
Vaelin gripped the reins tighter, Scar issuing a faint snort as he sensed his rising anger. “Did you?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.
“Oh yes. And greatly diverting she was too, if tiresomely stubborn. I could see why you loved her, such a bright soul is rare. Had I the time, no doubt I could have shaped her, crafted a dream rich in all the necessary temptations. I did the same for your brother, Caenis was it?”
Vaelin came to a halt, the Ally’s mount bringing him closer until he was no more than a sword length away. He stared into the Ally’s blank, uncaring gaze, his hands trembling.
