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time."
"Then it worked!" Alfred breathed. He sat up. Tears filled his eyes. "Our
magic worked! Death's Gate is "
"Closed," said Haplo and he smiled his quiet smile. "The Seventh Gate
destroyed. The magic dumped us here, apparently. And, like I said, we're going
to be here a while."
Alfred sat up. "Is there fighting?"
Haplo's face darkened. "About to begin, according to Vasu. He's been trying to
open negotiations with Ramu, but the Councillor refuses to even talk. Claims
it's only a trap."
"The wolfen and the chaodyn are massing for an assault," Marit added.
"There've already been skirmishes along the edges of the forest. If the Sartan
would join together with us, but " She shrugged, shook her head. "We thought
maybe you could talk to Ramu."
Alfred staggered to his feet. He still couldn't quite believe that he wasn't
dead. He gave himself a surreptitious pinch, winced in pain. Perhaps he was
alive . . .
"I don't think I'd be of much help," he said ruefully. "Ramu thinks I'm every
bit as bad as any Patryn who ever lived. Or maybe worse. And if he ever found
out I combined my magic with yours . . ."
"And that they worked," Haplo added, grinning.
Alfred nodded, smiled back. He knew he should be downhearted over this, but
couldn't help himself. Joy seemed to be bubbling up in his heart. He glanced
around his surroundings, caught his breath.
Two bodies lay on a bower of leaves in the center of a glade. One was clad in
black robes, gnarled hands rested across the chest. The other was the body of
a mensch, a human.
"Hugh the Hand!" Alfred didn't know whether to be glad or to weep. "Is he ...
is he .. ."
"He is dead," said Marit gently. "He gave his life fighting to defend my
people. We found him alongside the bodies of several chaodyn. He was as you
see him now. At rest, at peace. When I found him dead" her voice broke, and
Haplo moved near, put his arm around her "I knew that something awful had
happened in Death's Gate. And I knew I should be afraid, but I wasn't."
Alfred could only nod, unable to speak. Next to Hugh lay Xar, Lord of the
Nexus.
Haplo followed his gaze, guessed what he was thinking. "We found him here,
like this."
With subdued heart and a mixture of conflicting emotions, Alfred approached
the dead.
Xar's face, in death, looked far older than it had in life. Lines and wrinkles
that had been drawn to a taut fierceness by the lord's hatred and his
indomitable will sagged now, revealing hidden pain and suffering, deep and
abiding sorrow. He stared up at the sky with dark, unseeing eyes, stared up at
the sky of the prison house he had escaped, only to find himself back again.
Alfred knelt down beside the body. Reaching out a gentle hand, he closed the
staring eyes.
"He understood ... at the end," came a voice, very near them. "Do not grieve
for him."
Jonathon stood behind them.
And it was Jonathon! It wasn't the dreadful lazar, the walking corpse, covered
with its own blood, the marks of its painful death visible upon it. It was
Jonathon, the young man, as they had known him . . , "Alive!" Alfred cried.
Jonathon shook his head. "I am no longer one of the tormented undead. But
neither have I returned to life. Nor would I. As the prophecy foretold, the
Gate has opened. I will soon go back to the worlds and lead forth those souls
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trapped within them. I remained only to free these two."
He gestured to Lord Xar and to Hugh the Hand.
"They have both passed beyond. And this will be the last time I walk among the
living. Farewell."
Jonathon began to walk away. And, as he did so, his corporeal body started to
fade, until he became as dust, glittering faintly in a shaft of bright
sunlight.
"Wait!" Alfred cried desperately, running after, stumbling over rocks in his
effort to catch up with the ephemeral being. "Wait! You must tell me what has
happened. I don't understand!"
Jonathon did not pause.
"Please!" Alfred begged, "I feel strangely at peace. The same way I felt the
first time I was in the Chamber of the Damned. Does . . . does this mean I can
contact the higher power?"
There came no answer. Jonathon had disappeared.
"You rang?"
The pointed end of a disreputable-looking hat appeared from around the bole of
a tree. The rest of the hat followed along, bringing with it an old wizard in
mouse-colored robes.
"Zifnab," Haplo muttered. "Surely not "
"Don't call me Shirley!" the old man snapped. Entering the glade, he stared
around in vague confusion. "My name's . . . well . . . it's . . . Oh, the hell
with it! Call me Shirley if you want. Rather a pleasant name. Grows on you.
Now, what was the question?"
Alfred was staring at Zifnab in sudden, dawning comprehension. "You! You're
the higher power. You are God!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]