Angel Fall (30 page)

Then suddenly she awoke.

The horse had slowed. They were descending.
Where are we? Where’s he taking us now?

“To a terrible place.” Mirick spoke with great sadness. “What’s about to happen will be the most awful of all.”

What do you mean?
A cold knot formed in her stomach.

“Prepare your heart and pray for strength.”

She looked down. They were passing over a desolate mountain, and on its slopes stood a forest of dead trees. Stark and leafless, their twisted limbs reached up into the crimson moonlight.

“Below is the Mountain of the Faithful Ones. Long ago many brave people died here, murdered because they wouldn’t sacrifice their children.” Then Mirick’s voice changed. Somehow it became hard and soft all at the same time. “Tori of Earth, your heart is about to be broken. What you are going to see will test all of your faith and love.”

What am I going see?
Her mouth was dry.

“One of the greatest heroes who ever walked through this dark world, the bravest of the brave.”

The riders began to circle. Beneath them was a barren peak. At the very top, all alone, stood a small white tree. The leader on the stallion raised his hand, and ten horsemen followed him downward. One of them was the rider carrying Tori. They landed on the mountaintop. Then the Thing that was Alex dismounted. “Put her on the ground!”

The rider dropped Tori off the horse. She landed in a heap. As she struggled to get up, she suddenly saw something very odd—in the branches of the small dead tree there was a strange bundle. She took a step closer. What was it? It looked like a
baby
. She walked over. It
was
a baby; the bundle in the tree was a real baby held as though in a mother’s arms. And he was alive. His eyes were open. He was looking at her. Tori couldn’t believe it.

It’s the baby who was in the raft. What’s he doing here?

“Take the
thing
out of the tree!” The roaring command came from Alex’s mouth.

She turned and glared at him. “Why should I? You’re not the boss of me.”

“Obey!”

“Do it, Tori. Take the child.”

Giving a vile look to the Thing that was Alex, she began pulling back the dead branches, but as she did so, her eyes fixed on the trunk. She stared—what was that? There was a shape in the bark almost like a face. She bent closer. It
was
a face, a dead face, though its eyes were open.

Tori staggered back. She knew that face.

It was
Amanda
.

S
teady, child. Be strong,” Mirick whispered.

But Tori was screaming, “Is that my sister? That’s her, isn’t it? That’s her and she’s dead.”

Out of the Thing that was Alex came a horrible laugh. Shrieking, she rushed at him.

“You killed her! You killed my sister!” With all her strength she started hitting and pounding on him. He shoved her away, but she came back. He struck her.

“Tori, stop it!” Mirick yelled, but she didn’t stop. Finally the Thing that was Alex kicked her in the stomach. Gasping, she doubled over and dropped to the ground.

Mirick pleaded, “Tori, listen to me. Your sister was the bravest of the brave. She died trying to protect the baby. He needs you. Will you help him?”

Choking, sobbing, wanting to die, she lay with her face on the cold stone.

The command came again. “Take it out of the tree!”

“Look at him. Look at the baby,” Mirick whispered.

Though she didn’t want to, Tori raised her head and looked.

“What happens to him now depends on you. Amanda did all she could.”

Suddenly she thought she heard another voice calling softly to her from far away.

Tori, come to me
. It was her sister’s voice.

Sobbing, Tori struggled to her feet. Then, as though in a dream, she stumbled to the tree. From a broken heart she whispered, “Amanda, I love you, I love you.” And a sweet voice seemed to whisper back,
I love you too. Take him and don’t be afraid.

With tears streaming Tori began untangling the branches that had been her sister’s arms. The little boy was finally free. He was so light. He didn’t weigh anything. As he clung to her, she looked down into his eyes. She had never seen anything like them. Deep, not like a baby’s eyes. And as he looked up at her, she heard soft voices like mist, rising, falling, lilting in her soul, singing away the rage and horror, singing peace and strength beyond anything that she had ever known. And in the singing Tori changed forever. Within her heart a brave young woman was born. Holding the baby close, she whispered through her tears, “It’s all right. I’ve got you now.”

The Thing that was Alex climbed back on the stallion. “Take her!”

The rider who had carried her before reached down and jerked her up. But this time he didn’t lock her in with his arm. Instead, with one hand, he gripped a knot of clothes on her back and with the other her hair.

“Stop that! It hurts!” she yelled. But he kept on.

“Bring the filthy weed to burn on my altars,” the leader roared.

Two of the riders pulled the little tree from the ground. It was easy because it was small and the roots weren’t deep. After tying it on a horse, they mounted. Then all of them rose in a raging cloud and, with the army of shadows following, streamed away.

The rider behind Tori was still holding her by her clothes and hair.

“I told you to stop that! You’re hurting me!”

But the grip only tightened.

Why is he doing this? He didn’t do it before.

He’s afraid to touch the baby. To them he’s like poison.

Oh, really?
A nasty look came into her eyes. Jerking around, she pushed the little boy toward the rider and yelled, “Why don’t you grab
him
for awhile?”

The baby reached out a tiny hand that vanished into the mist around the creature’s body. Screaming as though it had been stabbed, the thing fell from the horse and disappeared into the hurricane. Instantly other riders moved in, but none touched her. Tori hugged the little boy. “I wish you could kill them all.”

As they flew on, she started crying.
I want to know about Amanda. What happened to her?

“She died trying to take the baby home.”

Where is that?

“The Great Mountain that stands above the world. You can’t see it because of the clouds, but it’s there. It’s the place I was taking you.”

And she was doing it all by herself?

“There was no one who could go with her.”

What about Bellwind?

“Not permitted. Her task has been to watch and remember for the record of the ages. If she or any creature from her island had stepped onto the shore, they would have died. It is the Law.”

So Amanda went alone. She was brave.

“Yes.”

Tori looked over at the little tree tied on the horse.
How did my sister die?

“Her enemies gave her a disease that changed her body.”

It must have been awful.

“She died in great pain, but she never gave up.”

I’m so proud of her
. She fought back tears.
Who is this baby? Why do they want him so bad?

“His name is Aloi, and he is the Angel of the Children.”

You mean, like an angel from Heaven?

“You can think of him that way. Long ago, when the sacrifices began, when the first drop of child blood fell from the dying, the heart of the Great Father was broken. As He watched from the mists, He heard every cry, from the tiniest whisper of one torn from a womb to the screams that rose from the altars. Ten thousand ways they killed them. And the death of each child was the agony of Heaven. From that agony Aloi was born. He is the angel of the innocent ones, the face of all their faces, the Spirit of Childhood that was meant to be, the promise of life for all the lives that were destroyed.”

Like the dead children in the cave?

“Those and countless more.”

Where has he been? He was with us on the raft when we first got here.

“He was hidden on your world, kept from the eyes of Lammortan until the prophecies could be fulfilled. Then the Darkness was allowed to find him. Now they want him to be the last sacrifice. If his blood is shed this world will belong to Lammortan and the children will sleep forever.”

That’s not going to happen, is it?

“Soon we will know. I have not understood many things until this moment. But now all is clear. Your sister lived and died to bring Aloi to the place where you could take him from her arms. ‘Hidden in weakness is the last. But to the last the first is given.’ That’s an ancient prophecy and it’s about you. You’re the last child of your mother and father, and Aloi was meant to be the first child of a new world. You are the one who has been chosen.”

Chosen for what?

“To stand against Lammortan face-to-face.”

I can’t do that.

“Yes, you can. You weren’t ready before, but you are now. And you won’t be alone. They thought they had killed the Carrier. But you are the Carrier.”

What’s going to happen?

“There is an ancient Law that even Lammortan must obey. It says that if Aloi is to be sacrificed, the offering must be made from the hands of a child from another world. That’s why you and your sister were brought here, at the end of time, to fulfill the final test.”

He wants me to kill the baby? I’ll never do it! Never!

“If you refuse, he will kill you.”

I don’t care.

“You see, you are ready.”

What about Alex? Could he do it?

“I don’t know. He isn’t a child, but he isn’t a man either. If Lammortan tried to use him, it would be a great risk. It might not work. And even to try, he would have to give up control of his mind and body. The sacrifice must be made in freedom.”

So he could still win even if I die?

It took a moment for the moth to answer. Finally he whispered, “Those who serve the Great Mountain must walk without seeing what lies ahead. But remember this—the One who loved the children loves them still. And it is He who guides our path.”

After a stomach-wrenching lurch, the riders began falling from the sky. Tori screamed as the horse plunged beneath her. Twisting, spiraling down she flew in a blur of smoke and shrieking wind, past moonlit cliffs into darkness. Her fall ended with a bone-jarring jerk deep inside a canyon. The horses began racing through an eerie gorge, between massive walls strewn with boulders. Tori gasped, trying to make her stomach leave her throat.
Why…did they…do that? Where are we going now?

“To the throne of evil.”

The gorge widened. The riders rounded a bend and Tori saw it. Straight ahead, high above, sprawled a vast building. Tortured walls and twisted pinnacles snaked for miles across a sheer cliff, and in the center stood a monstrous heap that looked like a tomb.

What is…that?
She could hardly form the words in her mind.

“The Cathedral of Lammortan.”

As she stared at it, a terrible coldness entered her heart. Something inside whispered that when she entered those walls she would die, but her eyes hardened and her mind answered,
Shut up. I don’t care.

Carved into the cliff leading up to the cathedral were a thousand stairs, and it was to these that the horses flew. On a wide landing halfway up they came to rest. The riders dismounted and the voice from Alex snarled at her, “Get down!”

Carefully she lowered herself and the baby onto the stone.

“Follow!” Then he began to climb.

Tori looked up. The stairs were so high and there was no railing. Worse, they were crumbled and covered with debris.

“Don’t be afraid,” Mirick whispered.

I’m…I’m okay. I’m gonna count. My mom taught me to do that when I was little so I wouldn’t be scared.
Carefully she started climbing and counting each step.

“One…two…. three…four…five…”

When she reached a hundred, she turned and looked back. Behind her was a vision that would have terrified the bravest man. Crawling up from the chasm were thousands of silhouettes shrouded in mist, the phantoms of the Lost Ones.

“You’re trembling,” Mirick whispered.

I…just feel a little weird.

“Well, I can understand that.”

I should be scared, but I’m not. And it makes me feel kind of freaky.

“Wait a minute. You’re trembling because you’re not scared?”

Yeah.

“Such a strange child.”

Tori began climbing and counting again. “One hundred one, one hundred two, one hundred three, one hundred four…”

Two hundred…

Three hundred…

Four hundred…

Suddenly she heard singing, a host of deep voices rising in a roaring chant. She looked up. Above her soared the vast cathedral, and its gigantic walls were encrusted with carvings. Broken bodies. Raging faces. Screaming gods and shrieking children. But the horror of it only made her eyes grow harder still.

Finally ten more steps…

Then two…

Then one…

And she was at the top. Before her, giant doors stood open, and from out of them poured waves of dripping steam. A rotten stench filled the air, and the ground shook with triumphant singing as the Thing that was her brother vanished inside.

“Remember, you are a queen,” Mirick whispered.

“But not a bug queen.” Her voice was steady.

When the moth spoke again, his was trembling. “No, not a bug queen, but a queen that the mightiest Larggen would follow forever. So hold your head high, Tori of Earth, for you are the Queen of the Children.”

Lifting her chin and hugging the baby, Tori walked through the doors…into the steaming glow.

H
igh above, on a Throne of starlight, there was One who saw. And in the seeing, knew that the night had come. Stepping down, He began the long descent, from the Crimson Mists toward the Cathedral of Sorrows, from glory into a humble form, from the Great Mountain…

Into the Night of Blood.