The Trials of Lance Eliot (18 page)

It was an experience unlike any other, like an outdoor bathtub, with children splashing in the shallows and a beautiful view of the mountains. There were nearly a dozen pools, ranging in temperature from icy to scalding.

We switched pools every twenty minutes or so, shivering in the cold. The boardwalks that connected the pools were perpetually wet. During one of our dashes from one pool to another, Regis slipped and slid right off the boardwalk into the snow. A soak in the warm water soothed his temper, and I laughed about the incident for the rest of the day.

Around noon, we changed into dry clothes and betook ourselves to a local restaurant for lunch. Our meal was followed by slices of apple pie, cups of chocolate and a few games of dealings. Regis won every game. My exasperation was cooled by another stroll, which ended in the town library. As Regis struck up a conversation with the pretty librarian, I perused the shelves and devoured passages from histories and essays.

At six o'clock we went dutifully to the inn to meet Tsurugi. He wasn't there. We ordered a light supper and ate. No sign of Tsurugi. I had two pints of beer, ignoring my companion's disapproving remarks. Tsurugi was nowhere to be seen. We decided to reserve a room. The gray-haired proprietor took us to the second story and showed us a room with three beds, a fireplace and a table.

“If you'll wait a bit, masters, I'll send up a porter to get a fire going.”

“Could you heat some bathwater for us?” I inquired.

“And could you send up a bowl of chestnuts?” added Regis.

The proprietor smiled, set his candle on the table and bowed himself out.

There soon came a knock on the door. I opened it and stood back as two porters maneuvered a tub of hot water into the room, set it on the floor and left. A third porter dumped an armload of wood in the fireplace and built up a cheerful little blaze. Before leaving, he put a bowl of chestnuts and a nutcracker on the table.

“I feel awfully cold,” said Regis, pretending to shiver. “Must be my fever coming back. I should bathe first.”

“That's
my
bathwater,” I said. “Keep warm with your chestnuts.”

“I'll flip a coin for that bathwater,” he said, holding out a ten-valor piece.

I took the coin, suspecting it was unbalanced or had the same image on both sides. To all appearances, it was a normal ten-valor piece.

“Heads or tails?” I asked.

“What?”

“The side with the emblem or the side with the inscription?”

“Inscription.”

I tossed the coin, caught it in my open palm and stared at it.
In the Shadow of the Throne, Year 712
shone up at me. I swore.

“Just my luck,” said Regis with a smile.

He undressed and stepped into the tub. Suppressing my annoyance, I took a chestnut from the bowl, cracked it open and began toasting the meat over the fire.

Seven or eight chestnuts later, the door opened and Tsurugi came in.

“Hullo Tsurugi,” I said. “Have a chestnut.”

I heard a sharp gasp. Regis sat upright in the tub, splashing water on the floor.

“What's wrong?” he said.

Tsurugi was crying.

“What's wrong?” repeated Regis. “Tsurugi, what happened?”

Tsurugi sat down on one of the beds. “Faurum is destroyed,” he said. He sounded very tired. “The Nomen took the city and killed everyone.”

“What about Kana?” demanded Regis.

Tsurugi didn't answer. Regis sank into the bathwater with a stunned expression.

“There's more,” said Tsurugi, and my heart froze as he turned to me. “The Nomen reached Riku.”

“What?”

“There were no survivors.”

“No!” I shouted, springing to my feet. “It can't be—hang it all, it
can't be
—she can't be dead.”

I ran from the room, stumbled down the steps, left the inn and blundered through the snow, hardly able to see through my tears. Kana was dead. Tamu was dead. Aidan was dead.

Maia was dead.

The only Vocomancer in Gea was dead, and I was stranded here for the rest of my life. Which, if I had my way, would be only another minute.

I reached the bridge over the river. The water rushed beneath me. I climbed onto the railing and gathered my nerve for the plunge.

My friend, I had never before considered suicide. I have not considered it since. It is truly terrible to stand at the brink, realizing you have the choice either to step back and save yourself or to step forward and die. I suffered many dark and awful moments throughout my adventures in Gea, yet that, my friend, was the darkest and most awful. Even the horrors that were to follow couldn't equal the terror of staring at death and realizing I didn't want to die.

I would have thrown myself into the rushing black water anyway, but for one thing. As I balanced atop the railing, trying to force myself to step forward, I saw a gleam of red out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to see what it was, lost my balance and fell backward into the snow on the bridge.

It was useless. My concentration was broken. There was no way I could work up the nerve to climb the railing again. I lay in the snow and cried.

When I awoke, I was in an unfamiliar place. I shut my eyes with a grimace. What a headache. Was I dead? If so, I thought, this must be the afterlife. It's not an inviting place. By Jove, what a headache. If this is the afterlife, it isn't heaven. But I don't see any fire—or lakes of ice, for that matter. In fact, it looks like a pub.

I was overwhelmed with relief. It's only a pub, I thought, and I'm hung over. Why was I drinking last night?

Memories crashed into my aching head. Faurum and Riku were destroyed. Maia was dead. I was trapped in Gea forever. I almost jumped off a bridge. I shuddered. I almost jumped off a bridge. Now that I was standing in the light of day, the thought made my heart faint.

“Oi, you there!” shouted someone. I winced. The noise didn't help my headache. “What are you still doing here? Get out! Get out or I'll throw you out.”

Looking around, I saw a burly young woman waving a filthy rag. “Pardon me,” I said as politely as I could (not very politely). “I didn't mean to—”

My apology was cut short by the rag, which smote my face like the stone that slew Goliath.

“Out!” shrilled the woman.

Pain shot through my head. Dropping the rag on a table, I blundered out of the room and into the street. The sunlight hurt my eyes, so I leaned against the wall of the building to get my bearings. I hadn't stood more than ten or fifteen seconds when the woman opened a window and dumped a basin of greasy cold dishwater on my head. Cursing and spluttering, I stumbled into the street and was almost run down by a hund-drawn cart.

When I made it back to the inn, desperate for a cup of blackroot and a hot bath, I found our room locked. I didn't have the key. Blistering the hallway paint with my curses, I sank to the floor and held my head in my hands. If I was going to live a new life in Gea, this was some way to start it.

“Lance!” cried a voice.

“My head,” I whimpered. “Hush, will you? I can hardly stand it.”

“Sorry,” whispered the voice. It was Regis. “How are you holding up, old boy?”

“I'm not,” I said. “Where the devil is Tsurugi?”

“Out looking for you. Here, let me open the door. Get in and warm yourself. I'll have the porters bring up some bathwater.”

“And a cup of blackroot,” I pleaded.

“And a cup of blackroot,” he promised.

I was soon washed and in dry clothes. Clutching my cup to my chest, I huddled against a wall and stared at the floor.

“I'm sorry,” said Regis in a thick voice. He sniffed and wiped away tears.

With a surge of guilt I remembered that he too had lost someone dear to him. “No, I'm sorry,” I said. “Kana was a good man.”

“I never apologized,” said Regis. “I never apologized for leaving him.”

“I'm stuck here,” I said. “I'll never see my parents or my chums in California or my mates in Oxford. I'm stuck here.”

Even the realization that I would never again confront the Skeleton brought me little consolation.

“Well, old boy, at least you've got us,” said Regis. “Not that we're much comfort. Not when we're as broken as you.”

“Is Tsurugi broken?”

“I think so.”

“Did he have family in Riku or Faurum?”

“I don't know. He keeps making gloomy remarks, but he hasn't shed a tear since last night. He's been as cold and distant as—”

“As a stuffed fish.”

We sat without speaking for a long time. When I could cry no more, I sipped my blackroot and found it was cold. Deciding cold blackroot was better than no blackroot, I poured it down my throat and gagged. It is not wise to drink blackroot on an empty stomach.

Tsurugi came into the room. “Where did you go?” he asked, looking at me with vacant eyes.

“A pub,” I said. “Drank myself to sleep. Sorry to worry you.”

Regis wiped his eyes. “What now? Faurum is gone. I can't go home. I don't want to wander anymore. I want to stay someplace.”

“Come with us,” I said.

“Where are you going?”

“I don't know.”

Tsurugi sat down on his bed. “The Resistance was based in Faurum. Now that the city is destroyed, the Resistance is ended.”

I hadn't thought I could feel any worse, but Tsurugi's words proved me absolutely wrong.

“So the kingdom is doomed,” I said. “We're all dead.”

“No,” he said.

I stared at him.

“There are members of the Resistance all over Rovenia. General Shoukan told them to assemble in Valdelaus if the Resistance failed. That way the capital would be secure even if the rest of the kingdom fell. If we can gather the stray members in Valdelaus, we can re-form the Resistance.”

“How can you think about the Resistance?” I asked. “Here we are, drowning in tears, and you're matter-of-factly planning our next move. Hang it, Tsurugi, aren't you even the tiniest bit affected by this tragedy? How stonehearted are you?”

“We don't have time for grief,” he replied, looking at the floor. “People died. More will die if we don't do something. There will be time for tears, but this isn't it. That's the folly of tears. They blind you to everything else.”

There was a long silence.

“Do what you will,” said Tsurugi. “I'm going to Valdelaus.”

My friend, never in my wildest dreams did I think I would volunteer to take part in a rebellion. Up to that point, I had (for the most part) acted with level-headed sense. My adventure was exciting, but I tried not to get swept away in it. I wanted to return to Terra alive.

My life lost its meaning the moment I heard Maia was dead. With no other reason to live, I didn't hesitate to throw it away on the first quixotic idea that came my way.

“I'm going with you,” I announced. “I haven't got anything else to do. I doubt Rovenia needs a literary critic.”

“I'll go too,” said Regis. “I'll find a job or something in Valdelaus. Maybe I'll join your Resistance. I don't know, old boy. I just don't know.”

“What's the name of the king?” I asked as Tsurugi blew life into the fire. “The usurper who killed Victor Bonroi and grabbed the throne?”

“Senshu,” he said.

“Can't we organize a coup and overthrow him? Without him, we could take control of the military and fight to keep Rovenia safe.”

“General Shoukan refused to overthrow Senshu. He was convinced a coup would end in bloodshed. But we have no choice. We'll have to try. We can't run the Resistance from the king's own city without his notice.”

“The Darkness!” I exclaimed, and swore. “I had forgotten about it. Tsurugi, what are we going to do about the Darkness?”

“What's the Darkness?” asked Regis.

Tsurugi briefly described the dark horror creeping over Rovenia from the east.

“I hadn't any idea,” said Regis with a shudder. “The Darkness makes the Nomen seem like no threat at all.”

“We've also got the Tyrians to worry about, and the dratted pirates,” I said, adding a few words that are better left unrecorded.

To be honest, my friend, I had hardly given these dangers any thought since leaving Faurum. I was so intent on returning to Oxford that I had almost forgotten the perils pressing in on Rovenia from every side. Now that I was stuck in Gea, it was an awful shock to realize I was in the same dreadful situation as everyone else.

“Things look grim, old boy,” said Regis. I had never seen him so dejected. “What are we going to do?”