Read Online Fall of Thanes by Brian Ruckley - Free Book Online
Authors: Brian Ruckley
Tags: dark fantasy
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came of their own accord. He suddenly felt guilty, even ashamed, that he had forced this. Yet it was necessary, his instincts insisted.
"Keep quiet," Yvane said.
Eshenna closed her eyes, bowed her head a little. Her breath fluttered out of her. Her shoulders sagged. She might almost have been falling asleep. K'rina remained wholly impassive. The two of them sat thus, linked in their different, unnatural trances, for so long that Orisian's doubts began to reassert themselves.
"It's not working," he whispered to Yvane. She splayed her hand at him, irritably demanding silence. She was frowning in concentration.
Somewhere outside, diminished by distance, Orisian thought he could just still hear the harsh calling of the crows. The sound seemed to him to have a hostile edge to it now, as if mocking his hopeless efforts to oppose forces that could not be opposed, or understood. He flailed about like a drowning man in a flood, he thought. Perhaps all he could hope for was that he did not drag too many others down with him. He caught himself before that despair took too firm a hold. Could he even trust it as wholly his own?
A faint hiss from Yvane brought him back from his dark, distracted reverie. Eshenna was gasping. Her jaw cracked open and shut, the joint creaking as her muscles spasmed. A blush was spreading through her cheeks and brow, brightening and deepening with every desperate breath.
Orisian looked at Yvane in concern. She narrowed her eyes.
"I don't know," she said. "I can't tell what's happening."
Eshenna jerked, almost as if she was trying to pull away from K'rina, but she did not--or could not--release her grip. Her spine curved and flexed, snapping her head back then down again into her chest.
Orisian saw Yvane wincing, her brow creasing. She shrank away from the other two na'kyrim .
"What is it?" he asked her.
"Something..." she whispered, then shook her head sharply, as if beset by a host of biting flies.
Orisian could hear--or feel --a roaring, like a distant waterfall, or a storm blowing through trees. But it was inside his head, not outside, in the bone of his skull and the substance of his thoughts. It bled darkness from the edges of its sound, blurring shadows across his vision. The world was tumbling away from him, or he from it. The cramped shed around him swelled, rushing out to become a vertiginously immense space.
"Separate them," he said, reeling at the dizzying sense of dislocation. He reached out and took hold of Eshenna's arm, trying to pull it away from K'rina. "Help me," he hissed at Yvane.
There was an instant of reluctance, a hesitant fear, and then Yvane too had hold of Eshenna, and was murmuring urgently to her.
"Come back, Eshenna. Come back. Can you hear me? Come back to yourself."
Orisian could barely hear her above the rushing within his skull. The sensation of falling was sickening.
It was only with the greatest difficulty that they could part the two of them. K'rina slumped limply to the straw. Eshenna fell back into Orisian's arms. He laid her down as gently as he could. She was calm now, though tremors still inhabited her hands, and when her eyes struggled open, her gaze was unfocused. Orisian found himself cradling her head, and could feel the dampness of sweat in her hair. Her stone-grey eyes blinked up at him.
"She's empty," Eshenna gasped. "Nothing there, just a pit that falls away for ever. Into nothingness. It wanted to take hold of me, and I could not prevent it. But it didn't know me. That's the only thing that saved me. It's made for someone else, waiting for someone else, or I would have been lost. Swallowed up and caged in there for ever."
She was crying, though whether it was from pain, or fear, or relief Orisian could not tell.
"Be still," said Yvane. She spoke to Eshenna, but it was K'rina she was looking at, in the flickering light of the candles, and it was a look of suppressed horror or perhaps grief.
"Was it Aeglyss?" Orisian asked.
"No, no," Eshenna
"Keep quiet," Yvane said.
Eshenna closed her eyes, bowed her head a little. Her breath fluttered out of her. Her shoulders sagged. She might almost have been falling asleep. K'rina remained wholly impassive. The two of them sat thus, linked in their different, unnatural trances, for so long that Orisian's doubts began to reassert themselves.
"It's not working," he whispered to Yvane. She splayed her hand at him, irritably demanding silence. She was frowning in concentration.
Somewhere outside, diminished by distance, Orisian thought he could just still hear the harsh calling of the crows. The sound seemed to him to have a hostile edge to it now, as if mocking his hopeless efforts to oppose forces that could not be opposed, or understood. He flailed about like a drowning man in a flood, he thought. Perhaps all he could hope for was that he did not drag too many others down with him. He caught himself before that despair took too firm a hold. Could he even trust it as wholly his own?
A faint hiss from Yvane brought him back from his dark, distracted reverie. Eshenna was gasping. Her jaw cracked open and shut, the joint creaking as her muscles spasmed. A blush was spreading through her cheeks and brow, brightening and deepening with every desperate breath.
Orisian looked at Yvane in concern. She narrowed her eyes.
"I don't know," she said. "I can't tell what's happening."
Eshenna jerked, almost as if she was trying to pull away from K'rina, but she did not--or could not--release her grip. Her spine curved and flexed, snapping her head back then down again into her chest.
Orisian saw Yvane wincing, her brow creasing. She shrank away from the other two na'kyrim .
"What is it?" he asked her.
"Something..." she whispered, then shook her head sharply, as if beset by a host of biting flies.
Orisian could hear--or feel --a roaring, like a distant waterfall, or a storm blowing through trees. But it was inside his head, not outside, in the bone of his skull and the substance of his thoughts. It bled darkness from the edges of its sound, blurring shadows across his vision. The world was tumbling away from him, or he from it. The cramped shed around him swelled, rushing out to become a vertiginously immense space.
"Separate them," he said, reeling at the dizzying sense of dislocation. He reached out and took hold of Eshenna's arm, trying to pull it away from K'rina. "Help me," he hissed at Yvane.
There was an instant of reluctance, a hesitant fear, and then Yvane too had hold of Eshenna, and was murmuring urgently to her.
"Come back, Eshenna. Come back. Can you hear me? Come back to yourself."
Orisian could barely hear her above the rushing within his skull. The sensation of falling was sickening.
It was only with the greatest difficulty that they could part the two of them. K'rina slumped limply to the straw. Eshenna fell back into Orisian's arms. He laid her down as gently as he could. She was calm now, though tremors still inhabited her hands, and when her eyes struggled open, her gaze was unfocused. Orisian found himself cradling her head, and could feel the dampness of sweat in her hair. Her stone-grey eyes blinked up at him.
"She's empty," Eshenna gasped. "Nothing there, just a pit that falls away for ever. Into nothingness. It wanted to take hold of me, and I could not prevent it. But it didn't know me. That's the only thing that saved me. It's made for someone else, waiting for someone else, or I would have been lost. Swallowed up and caged in there for ever."
She was crying, though whether it was from pain, or fear, or relief Orisian could not tell.
"Be still," said Yvane. She spoke to Eshenna, but it was K'rina she was looking at, in the flickering light of the candles, and it was a look of suppressed horror or perhaps grief.
"Was it Aeglyss?" Orisian asked.
"No, no," Eshenna
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