The Dark Remains (68 page)

“To keep you safe, dear. Wherever they came from, the
black knights had one goal in mind: to slay the heirs of Malachor. You were all that was left, and we knew it was only a matter of time before the knights discovered you were alive. Desperate measures were called for.”

Vani moved closer, leather creaking. “So you knew of this other world, this Earth, even as the Mournish did. I thought only the sorcerers of Morindu knew of the place that could be reached across the void—the
morndari
told them of it long ago, and that was why they built the gate artifacts.”

Melia patted Vani’s cheek—a gesture which seemed to shock the assassin.

“Don’t completely underestimate us, dear. Foolish and petty as we can be, we immortals do know a thing or two. We first became aware of the other world more than a millennium ago, when we aided the Old Gods in binding Mohg beyond the circle of Eldh. We glimpsed—if only for a moment—a world beyond what we knew.”

Travis gazed at Melia, his gray eyes thoughtful. “So the New Gods were able to open a gate to Earth.”

“It was not quite so easy as you make it sound. It took nearly all of us working in concert to do it—an alliance which I fear will never occur again. And even so, I do not think we would have succeeded if there had not been something working to open the way from the other side.”

Now Grace was completely lost. “What do you mean? What could have been working from the other side?”

However, before bard or lady could speak, Travis did. “It was this, wasn’t it?” He drew something out of his pocket: a gray-green Stone. Sinfathisar.

Falken nodded. “We believe so. Now, at least—for at the time we didn’t know the Stone of Twilight was on Earth. But its magic acted like a beacon for the power of the New Gods, drawing it to your Earth and opening a gate.”

“That’s why you came to Castle City, Grace,” Travis said. “And that’s why the people from the orphanage found
you there. It was because Jack Graystone had Sinfathisar. And I suppose that’s how the ironhearts and wraithlings ended up in Castle City last autumn. They were drawn there by the very thing they were seeking.” He tightened his fingers around the Stone.

“We can’t be sure,” Falken said. “But it makes sense. We know the Pale King had the Great Stone Gelthisar. It must be that its power was great enough for him to send some of his servants to your world. And just like Grace, they all ended up near the place where Sinfathisar was being kept.”

Grace’s eyes were hot, and she felt tears filling them. At last she knew she had not been abandoned as a child. They had loved her, and they had been trying to protect her. So why did she feel so lonely she couldn’t bear it?

“Why?” she whispered. “Why did you let me go there alone? Why did you send me …?”

Why did you send me there, to the orphanage, to the shadow?
she wanted to ask, but the words stuck in her throat.

Melia hesitated, then she took both of Grace’s hands in her own. “We didn’t send you alone, Grace. At least, we didn’t want to. Merric Warden held you as we opened the gateway. He was to go with you, to watch over you. But … something went wrong.”

Grace shook her head, beyond words now. Melia tightened her grip.

“You were so small, so fragile. You were wearing a dress Anilena had made for you, and Falken had placed the necklace around your neck, for he had found it on Anilena. Then, even as Merric went through the gate, we all sensed it: a presence on the other side. What it was—or who—we still do not know. But it was great, and powerful. And it was evil. I watched as Merric cried out in agony. I could see the other side of the gate—the mountain where they must have found you. With his last effort,
Merric heaved your tiny body forward. I saw you fall, tumbling to the grass, crying. Then Merric screamed again, and he was torn apart by something none of us could see. After that the gate closed, and we could not open it again.”

Now Melia released her hands. “I’m so sorry, Ralena. I’m so sorry we left you alone. We wanted to protect you, and I fear it was the opposite that happened. Please … can you ever find a way to forgive us?”

Grace tried to speak but could not. Instead a low moan escaped her as she shook her head. Pain hazed Melia’s visage, and the lady stepped back. No, she misunderstood. Desperate, Grace reached for words, found them, put them together.

“There’s nothing to forgive. You did everything you could for me. And I’m alive.”

And broken. But she did not speak those words aloud. That was not Melia’s fault, nor Falken’s. They had devoted their lives to protecting her family. If it were not for them, Grace never would have been born in the first place.

Falken was grinning now. “It doesn’t matter what happened, Grace. You’re well, and you’re here. That’s all that counts. And one day Malachor will shine again under your rule.”

These words were like a slap. However, before Grace could speak, Melia clapped her hands.

“Oh, Ralena! I had thought I would never see you again. Then, that day we came to Calavere last winter, and I saw you standing there—I thought my heart would shatter with joy.”

Falken’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “
What?
You mean, all this time, you knew Grace was Ralena?”

Melia smiled sweetly. “Of course, dear.”

The bard’s face turned a fascinating and completely unnatural shade of purple. “And you never thought it important to share this little fact with me?”

Melia rolled her eyes. “Well, I didn’t think it would
take you so long to figure it out. I recognized her at once—even if she did see fit to keep her necklace hidden. Only a child as lovely as Ralena could grow into a woman as beautiful as Grace. Besides, I imagine no one on any world has eyes quite like hers. They haven’t changed a bit, dear.”

Falken looked ready to explode, but before the bard could speak Durge stepped forward. His lined face was sober as always, but there was a light in his brown eyes Grace had never glimpsed before. It was certainly pride. It might also have been joy.

“I knew it,” he said softly. “You are indeed a queen. Of men, if not of fairies.” Then, to her astonishment, Durge knelt on the floor before her and bowed his head.

As if that were not enough, a moment later Falken followed suit, then Beltan, then all of the others. Travis knelt, grinning, and Lirith and Aryn with eyes sparkling. Even Melia, and Sareth and Vani. They all knelt on the floor before Grace.

This was horrible. Didn’t they understand? She couldn’t possibly be royalty, let alone a queen.

But you are a queen, Grace. Much as you’d like to deny it, you can’t, so you’d better get used to it. Besides, you’re the ruler of a kingdom that hasn’t existed for centuries. It’s not as if there’s anything to be queen of. So what is there to worry about?

Plenty. Falken’s blue eyes were brighter than she had ever seen them. It was clear the bard thought she was going to restore Malachor—the very kingdom all the legends said he had helped to bring down. She looked at Vani and Sareth. Why did everyone around here think she had a natural talent for resurrecting dead civilizations?

She wiped her tears from her cheeks, then reached down and gripped Durge’s thick shoulders, pulling him upward.

“Rise, Durge, please. All of you. Do you know how stupid you all look?”

Travis was still grinning as he stood. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

She glared at him. He was going to pay for that one, and by the way his grin turned into a grimace he knew it.

Sareth moved forward. “This is an amazing story you have told us Falken, Melindora. But may I remind you …”

Melia waved his words aside. “Yes, Sareth. We have hardly forgotten. Come, everyone. I imagine my requests to the emperor have been seen to. It is time we paid Ephesian our respects and said farewell.”

Grace followed the others from the hall, forcing her legs to function. She could feel the others gazing at her with a mixture of awe and respect. Even Travis. It was utterly dreadful. Then, thankfully, Aryn was there. The young woman gripped Grace’s hand in her own good one.

“So King Boreas was right all along, Grace. You really are royalty. Only you’re not a duchess, but a queen.”

Queen
. That was what Marji had called her. Why was Grace always the last to know?

“In fact,” Aryn went on, “as Queen of Lost Malachor, I imagine you’d even outrank Boreas.”

To her surprise, Grace found herself laughing, and the act was steadying, healing. “I don’t think I’m going to be the one who tells Boreas
that.
”

Aryn joined in her laughter. “Well, don’t look at me!”

They were still laughing when they reached the dais and Ephesian’s throne. The emperor’s myopic eyes lit up when Melia told him of their discovery and of Grace’s royal nature.

“We shall have a celebration!” Ephesian said after roaring with mirth. He turned his attention to Grace. “We’re cousins of a sort, Your Majesty. I am descended from Elsara’s eldest son, and you from her second. Thus I decree that all of Tarras will honor you. We’ll have nine days of feasting and music and dancing. What’s more, you and I can ride together in a parade on a golden barge, and
while the people watch I’ll give you some advice on how to run an empire.”

Grace had absolutely no idea what to say to that, so she simply murmured,
Thank you, Your Magnificence
.

Now Ephesian regarded Melia. “I must thank you, Melindora. This is quite possibly the most interesting day I’ve ever had.”

“And nor is it quite over yet, Your Magnificence,” Melia said. “So let’s not celebrate prematurely.”

Ephesian called forth one of his soldiers, who reported that the Etherion had been made ready as Melia commanded. After this, the companions bade their farewells to the emperor—with both Lirith and Grace promising to visit soon—then departed, marching across the vast throne room and leaving the emperor alone. The gilded doors of the palace swung shut behind them with a
boom
that reverberated through Grace’s body.

The vibration grew in force. A roaring filled the air, and the tiled surface of the courtyard rose and fell violently under Grace’s feet. She cried out as she and the others tumbled against one another. It wasn’t the vibration of the doors closing, Grace finally realized. The ground was shaking.

“What’s happening?” Falken shouted above the roar.

However, even as the bard spoke, the trembling of the ground ceased, and an eerie silence fell over the palace, punctuated by the distant barking of dogs.

Grace struggled to regain her feet, letting go of Sareth, whom she had clutched to keep from falling. A webwork of fine cracks covered the tiled courtyard. She was certain the cracks had not been there moments before.

“That felt like an earthquake,” Travis said.

“I do not like this,” Sareth said, gazing at Vani. “The cavern of the demon lies beneath the city. This trembling cannot bode well.”

Vani opened her mouth to answer, but a moan of
pain interrupted her. Nearby, Melia staggered, her face ashen.

Falken rushed to her. “Melia, are you hurt?”

She shook her head.

“What is it?”

At last Melia managed to croak a single word. “Misar …”

Grace knew enough of what had been happening in Tarras to understand. Another god was dead, consumed by the demon.

Travis craned his neck, gazing up at the blue dome high above. It was hard to believe it
wasn’t
the sky he was looking at. Birds dived and darted, then soared toward white clouds. It was only after staring for a minute that the illusion finally became apparent. The clouds never moved, painted in place. Melia had led them to a large balcony at the level of the sixth tier. Except for the birds, they had the place to themselves.

Grace stood a little apart from the rest of them, gazing at the white floor of the Etherion far below. Travis couldn’t help but grin. The first time he had met her, in the great hall of Calavere, he had assumed she was from Eldh. And even later, when he knew she had come from Denver, he had always felt like she belonged here in a way he never would.

It turns out you were right, Travis. She does belong on Eldh. And if Falken’s right, then I suppose a good chunk of Eldh belongs to her
.

Only why was there such a look of sadness on her face? Shouldn’t she have been happy to know the truth
about her parents? But maybe he knew the reason. Melia and Falken had sent her to Earth to protect her, only she had ended up at the Beckett-Strange Home for Children. And there she had found anything but safety. Travis knew; he had seen the shadow, her shadow.

Yet now she was back on Eldh, back where she belonged. Brother Cy had seen to that.

Travis reached into the pocket of his loose-fitting Mournish pants and pulled out the half-coin the strange preacher had given him, and which had twice transported him back to Earth. Grace had the other half of the silver coin, but not long after their return to Denver, Travis had placed the halves together to study the symbols on both sides.

With the coin complete, he had finally recognized one of the two symbols: a circle with a dot inside. It was the rune Eldh, the symbol of this world. Travis hadn’t recognized the rune on the other side of the coin—a triangle with a line above it. In a way it had reminded him of the rune of ice, but he guessed it had another meaning.

They’re just like two sides of the same coin, aren’t they, Travis? Sister Mirrim told you that—when one world burned, so did the other
.

The rune on the opposite side of the coin could only be the rune for Earth.

All right, that was one mystery solved, but it begged another—who was Brother Cy? And how could the preacher send Travis and Grace back and forth between the worlds with what amounted to a wave of his hand when other people, Duratek and the Scirathi included, were scrambling for magic blood and ancient artifacts to do the same thing?

Travis wasn’t sure. But the magic of the
morndari
seemed to allow passage across the void between the worlds. And clearly the Imsari did as well—that was how Jack Graystone had come to Earth. And once Jack was
there, Sinfathisar had functioned like a beacon, drawing Grace to Castle City. Along with the Pale King’s servants and the runelord Mindroth.