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Authors: Tim Lebbon

Fallen (32 page)

BOOK: Fallen
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“I don't care,” the Serian responded. “I'm here until I find you. I'm here until I have those pages. If that means my sword is stained, then so be it.”

Ramus closed his eyes and it was no darker. He sighed. His mind felt full, ready to spew what he knew.

“Nomi said—”

Ramus spoke the words. They sounded just as unfamiliar as the last time he had uttered them, and equally unwelcome in his mouth. As the final word trailed off the darkness seemed to sigh.

“What's that?” the Serian shouted. “What speaks? What shouts?” Ramus heard movement to his left and there was a brief shower of sparks as metal slashed against stone. “Away!” the man shouted. “Come no closer! Ramus,
run!

It was those last two words that made Ramus close his eyes and hold his face, as if to clasp the pain pulsing behind his eyes.

The Serian shouted again, a word that turned into a pained, disbelieving growl, and then fell to the floor. More sparks came as he swept his sword left and right, and all they illuminated was the stark, wide-open eyes that held a dark fear that nothing could illuminate.

Ramus could not move. He should flee now, he knew, but his body would not obey.

The Serian stood again, growling instead of speaking, and started scuffing along the wall back toward the entrance. Ramus heard the Serian's labored breathing, the sound of leather against stone, metal clinking here and there . . . and then a single loud
crack.
Stone against stone.

The Serian cried out. It sounded as though his voice came through gravel.

Ramus listened to the agonized retreat, and when he could hear no more movement, he followed. The sound of flowing water led him around a corner, and then he could see the weak ocher illumination of the death moon fingering through the entrance hole.

What have I done?
he thought as he climbed. But there was something other than guilt plaguing him. Something very much like excitement.

 

“OH, RAMUS,” LULAH
called. “What have you done?”

“Ramus!” It was Ramin, roaring into the night yet not moving a step from where Konrad lay sprawled at his feet. The Serian must have rolled from the cairn and landed below, close to where Ramin and Lulah argued by the campfire, and the rain now splashed from his wide-open eyes.

Ramus walked from the darkness and into the fire's light. “I gave him the words Nomi seeks,” he said. “Now he can carry them back to her.” He was aware of Lulah and Ramin staring at him but they were only shapes, shadows beyond what he really had to look at—Konrad, squirming on the ground. A continuous low groan came from his mouth, changing tone every few beats, and Ramus realized it was the sound of the Serian's breathing.

“He's dying,” Ramin said. There was disbelief in his voice, and then anger as he stepped around his fallen cousin. “He's
dying!

Lulah pressed her sword across the side of Ramin's neck. He was a head taller than her and the weapon rested at an angle, but it was still obvious that she could inflict a terrible injury with just a flick of her wrist.

“We shan't fight,” Ramin said.

“No,” said Lulah, “and so you shan't fight him.”

Ramin glared at Ramus, then turned and knelt beside the writhing Serian. “Konrad,” he said gently. But he could only look on hopelessly as the man suffered.

“This is what Nomi wants so much,” Ramus said. He tried to inject venom into his voice but he felt suddenly wretched, looking down at the man he had doomed. Konrad's eyeballs were turning pale.
I did that,
Ramus thought. A bout of queasiness hit him and he closed his eyes, pain thumping down his spine.

“Help me with him,” Ramin said, but he was no longer talking to Ramus.

Lulah helped Ramin lift Konrad to his feet, the stricken man screaming as his joints ground and popped. The Serians dragged him across to his horse, moving carefully but still unable to prevent the pain. Together they helped him up onto his mount. Ramus was excluded now, the cause of this pain and yet not allowed to help.

And can I?
he thought.
Perhaps if I translate more of the parchments I'll find a cure?
But unlikely as that seemed right now, some deeper part of him—the new part that hearkened to the Sleeping God, perhaps—knew that this was an example that needed to be made. When Nomi discovered what he could do she would pursue him no longer. She would
fear
him.

I did that,
Ramus thought again.

Lulah stepped back with a startled cry when two of Konrad's fingers snapped off in her hand.

 

LULAH HELPED SECURE
the dying man to his saddle.

“Is there a cure?” Ramin asked, looking to Ramus. His voice was quiet, and in that hopelessness he already knew the answer.

Ramus shook his head.

For a few beats, Ramus thought that Lulah would mount up and ride away with the Serians. If that happened, he would not call her back, because Lulah could make up her own mind. He hoped that she would stay.

She stood beside Konrad's horse for a while, touching the slumped man on the cheek and snatching her hand back. She said something to Ramin, but Ramus could not hear her words through the rain.

Konrad's right arm looked gray and dead. His face was pale. His right hand was cracked and crazed, and it bore stumps instead of fingers.

Ramin mounted up and grabbed Konrad's reins, riding away without another word. He threw Ramus one final glance. There was hate there, and something else besides.
Fear,
Ramus thought. It was a new experience for him.

Lulah returned to the fire, keeping it between her and Ramus. “You did that?” she asked. “You did that with words?”

“More than words,” Ramus said. “I'm not sure what they are. I . . . was afraid.”

Lulah threw something through the dying flames, and it landed at his feet. “Konrad's fingers,” Lulah said. “You turned them to stone, and the rest of him is following. You've breathed another charm.”

Ramus took a step back, looking at the dark wet things before him. Firelight touched them and cast harsh shadows from their broken edges.

 

 

Chapter 12

 

THEY SAW NO
more marsh wisps. Nomi had ridden the rest of the previous day deeply troubled by the encounter, feeling as though the wisp had left her with something, changed her in some way. But she could not make out exactly what that was.

“Maybe you changed yourself,” Beko had said the previous night. They had sat close together at the fire for a while, and she had relished their proximity.

“How do you mean?” she had asked.

“You didn't believe the wisps existed. They do. Perhaps your world is opening up.”

“My world has never been closed,” she had said, but even as she uttered those words, the lie shone through.

Now, riding through the midday sun and starting to dwell upon whatever lay beyond the Pavissia Steppes, Nomi was startled by Rhiana's shout from ahead. The Serians blustered around her, Beko and Rhiana riding off to the east while Noon rode close to Nomi. She looked after Beko, trying to make out what had caused the upset, and then she saw the two shapes moving across a low ridge in the distance.

“Marauders?” she asked.

“Serians,” Noon said, but his voice was troubled.

Nomi squinted against the sun but could not see clearly. “And?”

“Two horses, only one rider,” Noon said.

Nomi brought her horse to a standstill and dismounted, walking slowly through the long grass to meet them.

 

IT WAS RAMIN.
Konrad had gone. The tall Serian rode in between Beko and Rhiana, guiding Konrad's riderless horse.

When they arrived, Ramin dismounted, sparing a brief glance for Nomi that held more than a little anger.

“Where's Konrad?” Noon said.

“Ramus killed him.”

“Ramus?” Nomi blurted. “He...” He wouldn't? Was that what she was going to say? Because she no longer believed that. Too much had changed for her to pretend to know him anymore.

Ramin began fumbling at Konrad's saddlebags.

“Have you brought the pages?” Nomi asked.

He looked at her properly this time, untying a heavy bag from the saddle as he did so. “Piss on your pages,” he said. He knelt beside the horse and opened the bag, rolling down the edges as though whatever was inside could be damaged by the gentlest of contacts. “And piss on you.”

Nomi let out a cry when she saw what the Serian had uncovered.

Beko slid from his saddle and backed away.

Rhiana closed her eyes.

In death, Konrad's stony visage still carried the terrible scars he had borne through life.

 

“IS THIS A
sick joke?” Noon asked. He stared at the stone head, unable to look away.

“Why would he make a cast of Konrad?” Rhiana asked.

“It's no cast,” Ramin said. “When I left Lulah and that bastard, Konrad was sitting on his horse behind me. I had to tie him on. Whatever Ramus had done had frozen him, and all he could do was scream. And even his screams...” He trailed off, and Nomi thought,
The head will finish his sentence.
The head will speak!
But its face remained unmoved.

“His screams?” Beko asked.

“Not his own,” Ramin said. “They were changed by whatever was changing him.”

Beko shook his head, as though to make sure he still could. “What happened?”

“Before we left Lulah, Konrad lost fingers. They broke off. Snapped. And as we rode I tried talking to him, listened for his reply, but he could not speak. I'm not sure he even heard. He kept his head down and barely moved, as if he'd forgotten how to ride. His horse became agitated. I was trying to watch out ahead and around us, as well as keeping one eye on Konrad. The rain was heavy, and for a while I felt things hitting my shoulders and head. Spiders, I think, though I couldn't see in the shadows. So I was looking out for them as well, and I wasn't looking when he fell from his horse. I only heard. A heavy impact. His horse kicked and stomped, happy to be free of the weight, perhaps, and my own mount threw me and ran. When I went back to Konrad he was... broken.”

Nomi looked at the stone head and wondered whether it was changed all the way through.

“Shattered,” Ramin said. “He shattered when he hit the ground, and I couldn't just leave him there. But the rest of him was too heavy for the horse. So...”

Beko stepped forward and knelt before the head, just out of touching distance. He looked at it for a while, then stood and backed away. “He still has his silver earring.”

“And Ramus did this?” Nomi asked. “You saw him?”

Ramin shook his head. “He ran from us, hid inside a burial cairn. Konrad went after him while Lulah and I faced each other down. He wasn't gone for long, and when he returned he was already... infected.”

“How did Ramus do it?”

Ramin shrugged. “I don't know. But he said he'd given Konrad the words you seek, and that Konrad could carry them back to you.”

“This is bad magichala,” Rhiana said. “Very bad. This is cursed work, and we should have nothing to do with it.”

“Just where are we going?” Ramin asked. He darted at Nomi, his usually cheerful demeanor now hard as stone.

Nomi took a step back but the big Serian had stopped before her. “The Great Divide,” she said.

“I've known that for a while. But what's there? Where do those pages come from that you and Ramus are so keen to own?”

“I
own them,” she said. “I bought—”

“Nobody owns such cursed magichala,” Rhiana said. “It's of the shadows and wilds. Beko, I'm telling you, we should turn around and go back.”

“What's there, Nomi?” Beko asked. “You said you'd tell me when the time is right. I believe now is that time.”

“I can't—” Nomi began, shaking her head.

“You will,” Rhiana said, “or I'll be the first to leave. And once one goes, others follow, and soon it'll be you, Ramus and that fool Lulah, with no one to protect you from whatever it is you seek.”

“Can't be protected,” Nomi said quietly. “Not from a Sleeping God.”

Silence fell like a mist of rain, cooling them all and concentrating their attention back on Konrad's head. His eyes were half closed, his mouth open in an endless scream of pain.

“They're a myth,” Rhiana said, but Nomi saw the fear in her eyes.

“A wanderer found the parchment pages at the foot of the Great Divide,” Nomi said, “on the body of someone who had fallen. I bought them. They showed what Ramus believed to be an unknown language that could have come from the top of the Divide, and images that hinted at a Sleeping God buried up there.”

“You should have told us,” Beko said.

“Would you have come?”

“No,” Rhiana said.

BOOK: Fallen
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