The Scourge of Muirwood
Page 96
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He looked at her in shock. “Tintern has already fallen, Lia. I tried to return there days ago but the portal was closed.”
She looked him hard in the eyes. “The Abbey may have fallen, but there is an Aldermaston there. I know he is there. He will direct you to the ships.”
Marciana grabbed Lia’s arm. “What will you do?”
“What I must. Go now, while you can.”
Kieran plunged into the tunnel shaft and helped Marciana come down after him. Lia felt the weight of the Abbey pressing on her. The fire pushed against her will, but she refused to let it win. Not yet¸ she ordered.
There was Sowe next, followed by Edmon. They both turned and helped Pasqua down, and it took time for her to manage the ladder steps.
“I am hurrying, quit fussing down there,” Pasqua snapped. “I was once as skinny as you two and could handle ladders quite with ease.” Her eyes gleamed with gratitude and relief when she looked at Lia. “I knew you would save us, child. I never doubted it.”
One by one, Lia helped them down, holding back the flames with sheer will. Siler and the children clambered past. One after another. The flames burned even hotter, and she realized that another presence was commanding them to burn faster. She knew it was Pareigis.
“Hurry!” Lia warned. Reome was next, her eyes wide with wonder and gave Lia a grateful smile. One after another they went, Prestwich lingering in the back, insisting that others go first. He coughed violently against his arm, for the smoke seeped into the lower chambers. Another family from the village went down. So few, Lia realized. So few had believed.
At last it was just her and Prestwich. The weight of the Abbey strained against her. She could not bear it any longer.
“Go,” she said with a moan, beckoning for Prestwich.
He shook his head. “I will die here, Lia. This is where I want my bones to sleep. With my Aldermaston.”
Lia stared at him hard, exhausted by the strain of holding back the Leerings.
“Prestwich,” she said.
He shook his head. “I am done, child. This Abbey was my life. The ships are too far. I would never make it.”
Lia clenched her teeth, shuddering under the weight. “I cannot hold it back. Go down. You are needed, Prestwich. Your wisdom. Your experience. The little children need you. Someone to tell them stories. Of what it was like before the Blight.” She groaned. “Please, Prestwich!”
His face wrinkled with livid emotions. “They are killing my Aldermaston,” he said with grief. “I cannot…abandon him.”
She looked at him, a strangling feeling in her throat. “I know, Prestwich. I know. But I am your Aldermaston now,” she said. “Please, Prestwich. There is nothing you can do to serve him more. Help these children escape. Do it for me.”
The look he gave her was raw with suffering. He nodded and then ambled down the passageway. He paused on the rungs, looking up at her. “Come down with me, Lia.”
Her hold on the Leerings failed. She felt the blast of fire already sucking through the shafts as she slammed the stone lid down and whirled. The torrent of flames came jetting at her from all sides.
Lia walked through the shroud of flames as if they were a gentle breeze. She went back up the stairs as huge chunks of burning rock hurtled from the weakened beams. They exploded around her, sparks and whorls of flame. She walked without thinking, without wondering whether a stone would strike her. She had no fear. Somehow, it was lost during the hetaera test. Remembering the kystrel she had taken from the lair, she removed it from her tunic and tossed it into the flames, watching the metal turn bright orange before becoming a puddle of sizzling dross. In her mind, she saw the Abbey consumed, the Apse Veil vanishing in the conflagration. The Rood Screen turned to ash. The floor tiles were all cracked and black with soot, the pewter and silver vases and stands warped. Her soul grieved seeing the ravaged insides of her precious Abbey. For moments, she stared at the devastation, tears streaming down her cheeks only to hiss and vanish when they struck the floor. It was midnight, she realized. The darkest hour. And somehow, deep inside, she realized with shock and sadness that there were no Abbeys left in all the world.
She felt a presence and turned, startled, seeing the Aldermaston walking towards her.
He walked through the flames in his golden robes, approaching down the long aisle. She knew it was him, even through the billows of smoke and flame. Yet she felt his presence more strongly than what her eyes beheld. She squinted, not sure what she saw in the smoke.
“Aldermaston?” she breathed in surprise.
There he was, a wraith, a shadow that was visible one moment, vanished the next. A glimmer of his former self. But she recognized who it was, she recognized his presence. She felt him looking at her.
She looked him hard in the eyes. “The Abbey may have fallen, but there is an Aldermaston there. I know he is there. He will direct you to the ships.”
Marciana grabbed Lia’s arm. “What will you do?”
“What I must. Go now, while you can.”
Kieran plunged into the tunnel shaft and helped Marciana come down after him. Lia felt the weight of the Abbey pressing on her. The fire pushed against her will, but she refused to let it win. Not yet¸ she ordered.
There was Sowe next, followed by Edmon. They both turned and helped Pasqua down, and it took time for her to manage the ladder steps.
“I am hurrying, quit fussing down there,” Pasqua snapped. “I was once as skinny as you two and could handle ladders quite with ease.” Her eyes gleamed with gratitude and relief when she looked at Lia. “I knew you would save us, child. I never doubted it.”
One by one, Lia helped them down, holding back the flames with sheer will. Siler and the children clambered past. One after another. The flames burned even hotter, and she realized that another presence was commanding them to burn faster. She knew it was Pareigis.
“Hurry!” Lia warned. Reome was next, her eyes wide with wonder and gave Lia a grateful smile. One after another they went, Prestwich lingering in the back, insisting that others go first. He coughed violently against his arm, for the smoke seeped into the lower chambers. Another family from the village went down. So few, Lia realized. So few had believed.
At last it was just her and Prestwich. The weight of the Abbey strained against her. She could not bear it any longer.
“Go,” she said with a moan, beckoning for Prestwich.
He shook his head. “I will die here, Lia. This is where I want my bones to sleep. With my Aldermaston.”
Lia stared at him hard, exhausted by the strain of holding back the Leerings.
“Prestwich,” she said.
He shook his head. “I am done, child. This Abbey was my life. The ships are too far. I would never make it.”
Lia clenched her teeth, shuddering under the weight. “I cannot hold it back. Go down. You are needed, Prestwich. Your wisdom. Your experience. The little children need you. Someone to tell them stories. Of what it was like before the Blight.” She groaned. “Please, Prestwich!”
His face wrinkled with livid emotions. “They are killing my Aldermaston,” he said with grief. “I cannot…abandon him.”
She looked at him, a strangling feeling in her throat. “I know, Prestwich. I know. But I am your Aldermaston now,” she said. “Please, Prestwich. There is nothing you can do to serve him more. Help these children escape. Do it for me.”
The look he gave her was raw with suffering. He nodded and then ambled down the passageway. He paused on the rungs, looking up at her. “Come down with me, Lia.”
Her hold on the Leerings failed. She felt the blast of fire already sucking through the shafts as she slammed the stone lid down and whirled. The torrent of flames came jetting at her from all sides.
Lia walked through the shroud of flames as if they were a gentle breeze. She went back up the stairs as huge chunks of burning rock hurtled from the weakened beams. They exploded around her, sparks and whorls of flame. She walked without thinking, without wondering whether a stone would strike her. She had no fear. Somehow, it was lost during the hetaera test. Remembering the kystrel she had taken from the lair, she removed it from her tunic and tossed it into the flames, watching the metal turn bright orange before becoming a puddle of sizzling dross. In her mind, she saw the Abbey consumed, the Apse Veil vanishing in the conflagration. The Rood Screen turned to ash. The floor tiles were all cracked and black with soot, the pewter and silver vases and stands warped. Her soul grieved seeing the ravaged insides of her precious Abbey. For moments, she stared at the devastation, tears streaming down her cheeks only to hiss and vanish when they struck the floor. It was midnight, she realized. The darkest hour. And somehow, deep inside, she realized with shock and sadness that there were no Abbeys left in all the world.
She felt a presence and turned, startled, seeing the Aldermaston walking towards her.
He walked through the flames in his golden robes, approaching down the long aisle. She knew it was him, even through the billows of smoke and flame. Yet she felt his presence more strongly than what her eyes beheld. She squinted, not sure what she saw in the smoke.
“Aldermaston?” she breathed in surprise.
There he was, a wraith, a shadow that was visible one moment, vanished the next. A glimmer of his former self. But she recognized who it was, she recognized his presence. She felt him looking at her.
