The Keeper's Shadow (47 page)

T
HE GREAT BIRD SQUAWKS AS IT STRUGGLES TO LATCH ONTO THE GRUESOME, GELATINOUS MASS COATING THE WALLS OF THE PIT
. B
UT AS SOON AS IT HAS HOLD, IT'S SURROUNDED BY THE THOUSANDS OF AMORPHOUS FORMS ACCUMULATING OVER THE
O
VERSHADOWER
. T
HEY CURL AND SNAP AND CLUTCH AT THE DAMAGED, BLOODIED WINGS
. F
OR EVERY ONE THAT
D
ARIUS BEATS AWAY, A HUNDRED MORE TAKE ITS PLACE
.

T
HREE BIRDS OF PREY SCRAPE AND CLAW THEIR WAY ACROSS THE VISCOUS WALLS TO PERCH ABOVE THE
K
EEPER OF THE
C
ITY
. D
ARIUS TRIES TO MOVE AWAY BUT THEY FORM A TRIANGLE AROUND HIM, COOING,
“Y
OU LEFT US TO DIE, CALLED US
M
AD, BUT WE KNEW
. W
E KNEW
. W
E'VE WAITED A LONG TIME FOR THIS,
D
ARIUS
. S
EE HOW YOUR LIFE-FORCE DRAWS THEM
. O
H, YES
. Y
OUR VICTIMS ARE VERY HUNGRY,
A
RCHBISHOP, VERY HUNGRY
.”

A
LL
R
OAN HAS TO DO IS EXTEND HIS HAND
. B
UT HE DOES NOT
. H
E FORCES HIMSELF TO WATCH AS, STILL THRASHING AND SCREAMING,
D
ARIUS, THE
E
LDEST,
K
EEPER OF THE
C
ITY,
A
RCHBISHOP OF THE
C
ONURBATION, THE GREAT SEER, IS EATEN ALIVE ONE TINY PIECE AT A TIME
.

R
OAN'S SO MESMERIZED THAT HE DOESN'T NOTICE HIS GRIP ON THE EDGE OF THE PIT SLIPPING UNTIL HE IS LASHED BY ONE OF THE
O
VERSHADOWER'S LONG CLAWS
. T
OSSED INTO THE CAVERNOUS MOUTH, HE STRADDLES THE DEAD GOD'S HORNS, CUTTING ONE AFTER ANOTHER OF THE DEMON'S ENDLESS ARMS UNTIL THERE ARE NO MORE
.

B
UT THE AIR CONTINUES TO BRISTLE WITH ANGUISH AS VAPOROUS SHAPES SCREAM ALL AROUND HIM
. D
ESPERATELY TRYING TO CLAW THEIR WAY OUT, THEY ARE STILL BEING SUCKED TOWARD THE BELLY OF THE BEAST BENEATH HIM
. H
OW
?

“W
HY AREN'T YOU DEAD
?” R
OAN CRIES OUT FURIOUSLY
. S
LASHING OVER AND OVER AT THE MASS BENEATH HIS FEET, HE WAILS,
“W
HAT DO
I
HAVE TO DO
? W
HAT
?” B
UT ALL HIS EFFORTS ARE USELESS
. H
IS BODY QUIVERING WITH EXERTION, TEARS MIX WITH THE GORE HE'S COVERED IN AS HE STARES HELPLESSLY AT ALL THE LIVES STOLEN BY
D
ARIUS ACCUMULATING AROUND HIM
. H
OW CAN HE HELP THEM
?

F
EELING SOMETHING TUG AT HIS LEG, HE RAISES HIS ARM TO STRIKE
. B
UT IT IS ONLY AN INFANT CHILD
. I
TS TINY LEGS WRAP AROUND ONE OF
R
OAN'S AND IT LEANS FORWARD
. I
T PAUSES ONLY A MOMENT BEFORE PLUNGING BOTH ITS CHUBBY ARMS TO THE SHOULDER INTO ONE OF THE
O
VERSHADOWER'S ROLLING EYES
. S
EEMINGLY WITHOUT EFFORT THE CHILD POPS THE EYE OUT
. D
RAWING ITSELF BACK TO LEAN AGAINST
R
OAN'S LEG, IT SUCKS OUT THE LIQUID UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING LEFT OF THE EYE BUT A PALE SHEATH
.

S
LURPING THE FILMY REMAINS, THE CHILD SAYS INGENUOUSLY,
“T
O KILL IT YOU HAVE TO CONSUME ITS EYES
. Y
OU SHOULD EAT THE OTHER ONE
.”

R
OAN STARES AT THE CHILD, PUZZLED
. I
TS FACE AND BODY ARE YOUNG, BUT IT LOOKS AT HIM WITH EYES THAT ARE OLD, VERY OLD
. A
S OLD AS AN ANCIENT GOD'S
.

“F
OREVER CHANGING, RESPONDING TO THE NEEDS OF A NEW WORLD,
”
THE CHILD SAYS WITH A MOURNFUL SMILE, CONFIRMING
R
OAN'S SUSPICIONS
. “T
HE
O
VERSHADOWER'S MEMORY IS IN ITS EYES AND IT REMEMBERS EVERY SHADE IT HAS EVER SWALLOWED,
”
THE
F
RIEND TELLS HIM
. “Y
OU NEED TO KNOW WHO IT IS THAT YOU HAVE FOUGHT FOR
.”

L
OOKING AT THE REMAINING EYE,
R
OAN HESITATES
.

“D
O YOU LEARN NOTHING FROM YOUR FRIENDS
? I
T IS NOT THE APPEARANCE OF A THING THAT MATTERS, BUT WHAT IT CONTAINS, WHAT LIES WITHIN
.”

R
OAN THINKS OF
L
UMPY
. H
OW PEOPLE RUN FROM HIM WHEN THERE IS NOTHING TO FEAR
. O
F THE FIRST TERMITE JERKY HE MADE AND ATE AT HIS SIDE, HOW REPULSED HE'D BEEN, BUT HOW IT HAD NOURISHED HIM
. H
E REACHES DOWN DEEP INTO THE SOCKET AND PLUCKS THE EYE OUT
.

T
HE MOMENT HE TOUCHES IT TO HIS LIPS, DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES FLOOD HIS CONSCIOUSNESS
. E
ACH EXPERIENCE DEMANDING HIS ATTENTION, CALLING OUT TO BE HEARD
. L
IVES AT THE MOMENT THEY WERE LOST
. A
LONE, DESPERATE
. A
N INFANT TORN FROM ITS MOTHER'S ARMS
. A
FARMER CUT DOWN BY MARAUDERS
. C
HILDREN SCREAMING THEIR LAST BENEATH THE BLADES OF THE
M
ASTER'S PHYSICIANS
. A
LL AT THE BRINK OF MADNESS FROM PAIN AND GRIEF AND TERROR
. R
OAN IS OVERCOME BY HELPLESSNESS, FUTILITY, BLINDING RAGE, AND SORROW
. E
NDLESS, ALL-CONSUMING SORROW
. A
ND IT'S TOO LATE TO HELP ANY OF THEM
. T
OO LATE
. F
OR THESE ARE MEMORIES
. T
HE MEMORIES OF A DYING DEMON
.

T
HE PIT QUAKES VIOLENTLY
. S
HAKEN FROM ITS WALLS, THE VAPOROUS FORMS RISE AS THE
S
PIRACAL WHIPS APART AND THE GREAT PIT ONCE AGAIN LIES UNCOVERED
.

T
HE
M
AD
M
ASTERS SOAR, CIRCLING THE FALLEN CONSTRUCTION ONLY FOR A MOMENT BEFORE VANISHING INTO THE DISSOLVING FUMES
. A
NOTHER TREMOR REVERBERATES ALONG THE CHANNEL THAT FEEDS THE
T
HRONE AND
D
ARIUS'S FINAL CONSTRUCTION EXPLODES IN A FLASH OF POISONOUS GREEN LIGHT
.

D
ARIUS IS DEAD, HIS
T
HRONE DESTROYED, AND
R
OAN'S GREAT-GRANDFATHER'S DREAM REALIZED
. B
UT
R
OAN IS REELING FROM EXHAUSTION AND ANGUISH
. S
O MANY
. T
HERE WERE SO MANY
. T
HOUGH HE KNOWS THERE WAS NOTHING HE COULD HAVE DONE EARLIER TO CHANGE THINGS, EVERY MOMENT HE RELAXED, EVERY SMILE AND CARELESS LAUGH LURCHES INTO HIS MIND
.

J
UST AS HE FEELS HIMSELF COLLAPSING, A BROWN SPECKLED RAT WHISPERS AT HIS SIDE,
“T
AKE ME IN YOUR HAND
.”

P
ERCHING ON THE HOOK-SWORD EMBEDDED IN
R
OAN'S PALM,
R
AT BLINKS
. A
ND FOR A MOMENT,
R
OAN CLOSES HIS EYES AND SLEEPS
.

W
HEN HE WAKES, HE'S AT THE
R
IFT
. T
HE CHILDREN ARE SPREAD PAINFULLY ACROSS IT, A MASSIVE NINE-HEADED HYDRA HOVERING OVER THEM
. A
LANDRA—THOUGH HE WOULD NEVER HAVE KNOWN IT IF
M
ABATAN HADN'T TOLD HIM
. H
E CAN SENSE NOTHING OF HIS FRIEND IN THE BEAST, ONLY A FIERCE DEVOTION, A WILLINGNESS TO PROTECT THE CHILDREN AT ALL COSTS
.

T
HE PEOPLE OF
L
ONGLIGHT ARE CIRCLED ABOVE THE
R
IFT, HUMMING IN UNISON, AN ETHEREAL, PULSATING TONE
. M
OVING INTO THE SPACE BETWEEN HIS MOTHER AND FATHER, HE LOOKS DOWN IN HORROR AT THE BLOODIED BLADE EXTENDING OUT OF HIS PALM
. B
UT HIS MOTHER REACHES OUT, AND TOGETHER WITH HIS FATHER, SHE PLACES HER HANDS OVER THE BLADE
. O
NE BY ONE THE PEOPLE OF
L
ONGLIGHT JOIN THEM
. T
HEY SING OVER THE WEAPON THAT IS HIS HAND
.

T
HE DRIED BLOOD ON ITS SURFACE BECOMES LIQUID ONCE MORE AND IT FALLS INTO THE ABYSS LIKE TEARS
. T
HE RUST BREAKS OFF THE BODIES OF THE
N
OVAKIN AND THE
R
IFT BEGINS TO MOVE, ONE SIDE JOINING THE OTHER UNTIL IT CLOSES COMPLETELY
.

R
ELEASED, THE CHILDREN HUG THE HYDRA'S MANY NECKS
. “W
E PROMISE WE WILL FIND A WAY TO BRING YOU BACK
.” T
HEY SMILE, POINTING TO
R
OAN
. “W
ITH HIS HELP
.”

H
E FEELS THEIR THANKS, LIKE A CARESS, TOUCH HIM BRIEFLY AND THEN THEY ARE GONE
.

T
HE SHADES OF
L
ONGLIGHT TAKE TO THE AIR AND
R
OAN FOLLOWS THROUGH THE ORANGE SKY
. B
ELOW, THE GREAT DESERT THAT WAS ONCE RULED BY THE
W
HORL IS ALREADY CHANGING COLOR, BURSTING WITH LIFE
. F
REED FROM ITS SHADOW, THE
W
ELL OF
O
BLIVION'S WATERS SWIRL HYPNOTICALLY
.

A
S THE SHADES OF
L
ONGLIGHT DESCEND ONE BY ONE INTO ITS DEPTHS, HE CLUTCHES HIS MOTHER'S SMALL HAND
.

H
ER DARK BROWN EYES SMILE KNOWINGLY INTO HIS
. “W
E'VE LONG AWAITED THIS MOMENT,
R
OAN
. H
OPED BEYOND HOPE THAT IT MIGHT COME TO PASS
. N
OW WE MUST DRINK OF THESE WATERS AND FORGET, SO THAT WE MAY LIVE AGAIN
.”

“I
WOULD LIKE TO FORGET,
M
OTHER
.”

“I
KNOW
. B
UT IT IS NOT YOUR TIME
. N
OT YET
. I
T IS FOR YOU TO REMEMBER AND TO PASS YOUR MEMORIES ON
. T
HAT IS THE WAY OF THE LIVING
.”

“B
UT WHAT DO
I
TELL
S
TOWE?
I
STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND
. I
S THAT WHAT YOU DIED FOR
? J
UST TO SING OVER MY BLADE
? W
HAT…
W
HAT IF…
I
HADN'T
?”

“W
E DIED FOR A HOPE,
R
OAN
. T
ELL HER WE DIED TO BRING HOPE TO YOUR FUTURE
.”

H
IS FATHER'S EMBRACE IS NOT LONG ENOUGH
. C
OULD NEVER BE ENOUGH
. “I
AM SO PROUD OF YOU,
”
HE WHISPERS
. H
E TAKES
R
OAN FIRMLY BY THE SHOULDERS BEFORE HE BACKS AWAY
. “Y
OUR LIFE IS YOUR OWN, SON
. N
OW YOU MUST LIVE IT
.”

A
S THEY TURN HAND IN HAND TOWARD THE WATERS OF THE
W
ELL,
R
OAN FEELS HIS PARENTS' LOVE ENVELOP HIM FOR A MOMENT
. A
ND THEN HE IS LEFT ALONE AS THEY SINK INTO OBLIVION'S GENTLE WAVES
.

The last crescent of moon slices the sun, as across the City its shadow races from rooftop to rooftop, heralding the return of day.

Lumpy stands over Roan, his hand outstretched. “I knew I could depend on you,” he says. But as he helps Roan up, he's not smiling. “Wolf and Stinger have secured the City. But we've lost twelve Apsara…Ende…”

Lumpy's eyes drift off to the east and Roan, following his gaze, sees the ghetto of the Absent. The total stillness. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people lying dead in the streets.

“Ende tried but they were hopelessly outnumbered…and then it was too late. It was...”

Roan wheels at the sound of an agonized moan. Stowe's kneeling over Willum, stroking his hair. She's covered in his blood. Moaning. Moaning.

Mabatan is standing over her, silent tears streaming down her face. “How is it, Roan of Longlight, that we have won our struggle only to end so lost?”

Just then, the apex of the Pyramid is flooded in the light of the newborn sun and they are all bathed in burnished gold.

KHUTUMI

DO NOT GRIEVE. ROAN OF LONGLIGHT HAS BEEN LIVING HIS GREAT-GRANDFATHER'S STORY AND NOW HE MUST SEARCH FOR A STORY OF HIS OWN. AND WHAT A TALE THAT WILL BE.

—LORE OF THE STORYTELLERS

O
N A SEA-SWEPT ISLAND RICH WITH TOWERING FIR TREES
AND STONY CLIFFS,
Roan stands before a mound of rocks, a small, wiry man with pixyish eyes beside him.

Two weeks ago in the City, Roan had said his goodbyes. The Council had been reconvened with the addition of Master Querin, and a prophecy had been read: “Those who were estranged shall be brought together. And though one of the Shunned, the Lieutenant will stand in the Prophet's stead and unite them.”

Lumpy resisted, but everyone had been in agreement. Roan's Lieutenant would become the new Keeper of the City.

The moment he was alone with Roan, though, the arguments began. “But the City needs you, Roan. Everyone wants—”

“Lumpy. Don't you believe in the prophecy?”

“Oh, no. You're not going to use that against me again.”

“As a friend, then. Please.”

Lumpy had followed his gaze into the deep double-crescent welt that scarred most of Roan's hand and in the end, he'd agreed…as long as a Council could be appointed to govern with him. So Kamyar, Wolf, Xxisos, Stinger, Querin, Gunther Number Six, Stowe, and Mabatan are, at least for the moment, united in their efforts to mend City and Farlands alike.