The Walkers from the Crypt (5 page)

“We make a good team, Elyana,” Arcil was saying. “I think that was very nicely managed.” He stepped over to the Galtan necromancer, the man’s limbs still shaking at random intervals. “What shall we do with him?”

“Leave him,” Elyana said darkly, and sheathed her sword.

Arcil appeared unsure about that. When he bent down over the fellow, Elyana thought at first he meant to deliver a mercy blow, but instead he rifled through his belongings until he rose with a book. “I fancy learning that black tentacle spell,” he said.

“You’re not going to start dabbling in the dead, are you?” Elyana asked.

Arcil shuddered a little. “You’re joking, right?”

When they returned to the tower, Mirelle was waiting for them. The prince was gone.

“We were watching from the tower,” Mirelle told them. “He told me when he felt that the necklace was in use, and he grew very sad. But a short time later he turned to me with the most amazing smile. He tried to say something, but I couldn’t hear him, for at that very moment he faded away. It was like he had never been there at all.”

They rested in the tower for half the night. Elyana expected no trouble from any surviving Galtans, but she still roused her weary group before dawn, leaving the valley via its southern exit. Arcil might ordinarily have groused about having to share a horse, but he did not complain about having Mirelle pressed behind him on the saddle.

By dawn they were on the southern heights, and Elyana could not keep herself from taking a final look over the valley. In the dim light, it was almost possible to imagine the ruins as they must once have been, with folk leaving the houses for their fields, hoes slung over their backs. They would have walked forth in groups, their children running ahead. Others might have pushed carts toward the city square.

“We did it,” Arcil said. He had dropped off Mirelle’s horse to join Elyana.

“Yes.”

“You look sad. Against terrible odds, we came through alive. I can’t think of better reasons to be happy.”

“I was just thinking about the prince. He loved his people so much that he destroyed them.”

“Love,” Arcil said. “Sometimes I think we’re all better off without it.”

“Well, then we end up with the Galtans, don’t we? Justice beyond compassion. There must be a middle path.”

“Let me know if you find it,” Arcil said. “Right now, though, I would rather you focus on the trail home.”

“That I can do,” Elyana told him. “That I can do.” And she turned from her contemplation of the valley, climbed into her saddle, and headed for the woods.