Song of Ashes

56: Bone Prison

Sarka had stopped screaming. It had not helped, and after a while, the screaming began to hurt her throat. But she did not stop fighting.

As the Beloved took them back down the golden path lined on either side by paradisaical gardens, Sarka fought them as desperately as she had fought the wildcat that nearly claimed her life in the ashlands. But her energy was not limitless, and her efforts were all in vain when matched against the supernatural strength of the Beloved.

They passed through the gates of Deyna's palace. It stood on a vast, grassy plain all its own; before they had entered Deyna's gates, Sarka had seen no other structures at all. But now, in the distance, Sarka saw another palace.

"There are magical modes of wayfinding in the Opal Realm," said Konn, who seemed altogether too calm. Sarka wondered if he was still in possession of his wits. Perhaps his age and the shock of their impending deaths had addled his brain. "Atai would explain it more clearly, but alas."

Trying to put one bare foot in front of the other to save her toes the pain of being dragged, Sarka looked round, seeking the reassuring countenance of the God of Lost Causes. He was not there.

Could this be too lost a cause even for the foolishly merciful Atai?

It took them what seemed like hours to reach Kogoren's palace. Throwing a glance behind her now and then, Sarka saw Deyna's holdings first retreat into the distance and then fade altogether from sight.

"Please," Sarka said to one of the two Beloved who dragged her over the grass. "You must listen-"

The other one who held her struck her. Sarka's head rocked back.

"Sarka!" cried Ro. "Don't touch her, you demons!"

Her vision went black for an instant, and when she saw again, the Beloved's snarling face was inches from hers. Be sssilent, he said into her mind. We will hear none of your treachery. None of your lies.

They began to move again, and Sarka allowed them to take her, tasting blood in her mouth.

At last, Kogoren's palace rose before them: tall gates of wrought-iron spires surmounted with spikes that looked like daggers, an unkempt stone path, and an imposing fortress with leaded glass windows. There were no gardens here, at least not any more; the gray skeletons of trees and the crumbling remains of a fountain suggested that, once upon a time, there had been something of beauty to be found in Kogoren's immortal home.

They saw Kogoren's palace in snatches as they were dragged through the long, dusty halls. There were broken windows, threadbare hangings, and winding staircases that seemed to go nowhere. There were no servants, no glittering jewels nor sumptuous gowns, and most of the doors hung ajar, giving the place a hollowed-out feeling. It was as if no one had lived there in a thousand years.

"Where are you taking us?" Sarka asked. Her voice was a whisper.

Where you belong, replied the same Beloved who had smacked her.

They passed through more ruined hallways and then down a broken stairway. The Beloved moved easily over rotten steps and shattered flagstones, but Sarka, Ro, and Konn struggled to keep up. Sarka stubbed her toe more than once, and by the time they reached their destination, her feet were bleeding.

Deep beneath the palace was a dungeon full of shadows. The cavernous chamber loomed before them, each wall lined with dank cells.

"Wait," Ro said as his ghostly guards shoved him into a cell. "Sarka-"

Sarka's own Beloved were pushing her into a separate cell. From where she was, she could see Ro and Konn, but they were out of reach. The Beloved swung the heavy, iron-barred doors shut, and in the instant Sarka and her fellow refugees were safely shut into their prisons, the Beloved disappeared.

Konn had the misfortune of sharing his cell: in the corner was a wasted human figure. Age and decay had stolen any clues as to its gender, but there could be no doubt as to the cause of his or her death. A rusted iron dagger protruded from the side of the corpse's neck.

"He killed himself," Ro said. The dread in the atmosphere was palpable; for a prisoner to have stabbed himself in the throat, what was waiting for them must be truly horrific.

Konn went to the corpse, bent down, and pulled the dagger from its neck. The blade came free with a dusty scraping sound that sent shivers down Sarka's limbs. The priest looked at the dagger for a moment, his expression soft with pity, and then he tucked it into the deep pocket of his robe.

"They won't let you keep that," said Ro, leaning against the bars of his cell.

"Why not?" asked Sarka. "It's not like he can use it to hurt anyone but himself. The Beloved cannot be touched, and even if a man-made dagger could have any affect on Kogoren, she will be well beyond our reach."

Ro acknowledged this with a sigh. He slid down to sit on the grimy floor of his cell, folding his arms across his knees. "Well, here we are."

"Here we are," said Konn. He grasped one of the bars and leaned forward to rest his forehead against it, closing his eyes.

Sarka paced from one end of her cell to the other, her arms folded around herself. It was cold, so cold that her breath turned to mist on every exhalation. She was grateful for the thick homespun of her robe, but her feet were going numb. "What will she do to us, Konn?"

"Kill us, of course," said the priest in the same mild tones he had used to observe that travel in the Opal Realm worked differently than it did in the world of men. "I imagine she will not make it easy, but at the end of it all, we will likely go to the realm beyond realms."

"It sounds like you find that a consolation," said Sarka.

"I do, after a fashion," replied the priest.

"If you we're gone for good, at least we won't hurt," said Ro. He shook his head. "I knew we never stood a chance. But do you know something, Sarka?"

She shot him a dark look, ready with a hot retort. She knew he would call her foolish, or stupid, or both. He would blame her for getting them into this predicament, and he would be completely right. But for him to be so cruel as to remind her now, now when she, too, faced death-

"It was worth the try," he said. "It was well worth the try."

Sarka deflated. She stared across the darkened dungeon at Ro, feeling empty.

Without anger, she was not sure what she had. She was lost. Where was Atai? And Tayo...

But Sarka knew Tayo was helpless to come to their aid, even had he known what was happening. He was not permitted within the walls of Kogoren's palace; she had cast him out, and he had lost his chance to win his way back into her graces by taking up with Sarka, a traitor.

Sarka had ruined Tayo's life much more thoroughly than she had ruined her own. And his life was eternal. He would live with what she had done for the rest of his immortal life.

"I'm sorry, Tayo," she whispered. "I tried."

"What?" asked Konn. "I do apologize, Sarka. I did not hear you."

"Never mind," she said.