AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shivers turned to convulsions. It was too damn cold.
I hummed the lullaby. It was all I had—that and the lamp—to keep the darkness at bay. I sang it like my mother had sung it for me, and the darkness gobbled up my voice. The dark was so large, so thick, it seemed to be a living thing, watching me pass through, singing, with my single tiny flame.“The fire has gone out, the night is cold, and my heart is heavy with sorrow, but I know that someday we’ll be together, and I’ll wait for that tomorrow.”
If I’d had my violin, I’d have played it and chased the dark away. But I only had my voice, and so I sang and shivered and walked, moving further and further from Arin, from Justice, from the shatterlands, from reality. Shadows moved in the darkness, swirls of dark on dark. My voice quivered. I stopped, listened.
It was nothing—just my mind playing tricks.
My halo of light washed over a vast wall barring the way. The wall was so large I couldn’t find its edges. Markings gleamed on its surface. I raised the lamp, illuminating a dull, painted scene. A puff set the dust free, and color exploded. The art spoke of battles and bloodshed. I raised the lamp, moving it along the scene. Four crowns came into sight, placed in a square. Whoever had made these markings had crafted similar art in War’s great pyramid temple. Here, like there, people knelt beneath the crowns, as though in worship.
No, not in worship. Their eyes— They’d been hollowed out, chipped from stone and left that way, without detail. These people weren’t worshiping the crowns, they were their slaves. The crowns themselves seemed peculiar. They almost appeared broken, or that could have been cracks in the ancient art; my flame was too poor to see in any great detail.
Perhaps the scenes in War’s pyramid had not been about just War’s crown. Perhaps they’d been echoes of a past, and a warning for whoever ventured down here. But why hide such a thing so far beneath Justice’s castle? Was this the great secret Razak had spoken of? It didn’t seem too great a thing. Certainly not enough to warrant hiding it.
“My heart is heavy with sorrow, but I know that someday we’ll be together, and I’ll wait for that tomorrow,”I sang softly.
My light slid across the art and pooled into a gap where the stone had crumbled away, exposing a hole. I crouched and angled the lamp inside. A breeze sucked at the flame, almost spluttering it out. A sense of space loomed beyond. There was a room on the other side of the wall.
Perhaps the wall was a door, and with my small light, I couldn’t see its edges.
I’d come this far. I couldn’t turn back without Pain’s crown. If Umair had found this, he’d have made his way through, seeking the font on the other side.
On my hands and knees, I shuffled through the cramped, jagged hole and clambered out the other side into silence. A teasing wind encircled me, but the darkness didn’t wane. If anything, it was heavier here, and beat against me in silent waves.
There had to be lamps or torches… something to light the way.
I stepped forward, once more using my tiny light to push the dark back. My toe struck rock—a channel of some kind. I followed it, then found a candelabra topped with half burned candles. I uncapped my lamp and lit the wicks, casting a larger glow, encompassing another collection of candles. I moved down the line, lighting each one, until I’d made a path of light to a column and the beginning of enormous stone blocks, stacked like giant steps.
This place had the feel of giants, like War’s great walls and its enormous gate. I’d felt so small.
A sack of rags had been dumped on the second step. I raised my lamp, drew closer, and as the light highlighted the mound, familiar features took shape. Boots clad a pair of legs. A long coat draped from narrow shoulders. He’d had a face, but it was gone now, ravaged by time and obscured by dust. And on his lap sat a silver crown, studded with purple amethysts.
“Hello, Father.”
My voice echoed in waves, coming back around, and then faded.
I climbed the first giant step and raised my lamp again. Light licked over amethyst gems and tarnished silver points. I’d thought War’s crown was brutal, but Pain’s was the most elaborate of all—and the sharpest. Thorns jutted from its sides, each one hungry for blood.
It gleamed, untouched by dust or dirt, as though it had been crafted just yesterday. Whereas time had devoured the body of the man who held it.
I climbed the next step and knelt beside him. He and I wore almost the exact same clothes, but his coat was long and woven with intricate purple roses. A coat fit for a king.
In the shifting shadows, I could almost see the ghost of his face. My memory filled in what decay had taken.
Umair.
“I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to see you again, but time has not been kind.”
I remembered the weight of his hand on my shoulder, steering me toward the hanging tree where my mother waited. Hands that were now bracketed against the crown. No, not bracketed—fixed in place by those vicious thorns.
But he wasn’t chained here. It was as though he’d stopped to rest on the steps and never moved again. There were no signs of a struggle, no weapons on him, or nearby. I looked back at the enormous wall, now lit by the candelabra.
He’d come here, to this strange place, seeking a power, but he’d died here, with the crown on his knees. Why?
A small corner of paper poked from his coat pocket. I reached in and plucked it free. “You won’t be needing this.” The paper dusted my fingers, disintegrating under my touch. I set the lamp down and eased the paper’s folded edges open.
My dear Umair, if there were one thing I’d wish, it would be for more time, but I see now we do not control our fates, and mine has come for me.
You must not blame our dear boy. He is but a babe, an innocent. I know this will be difficult. I know you will hurt, but I must walk again in the meadows. I wish you could have seen them. Perhaps one day, we will walk together again. Your beloved wife, Jocelyn.
