“You took our lives, you empty-headed fool,” Fiall interrupted him. “Oh, don’t give me that look. Certainly our lives aren’t something you could put in your pocket, but did you honestly, seriously think that you could blithely go around killing whomever you pleased and not feel the effects of it?”
“But the merchant-Reizger Lokkich-he said it would be all right, that I wouldn’t have any trouble going back after I did.”
Stowe chuckled. “And you believed him?”
“What about you? I killed you in my world.”
“Oh, I’m just here for the show.”
“You will have a reckoning in your world as soon as you have had one in ours,” Agrid said.
“It isn’t quite as Agrid states it,” the third elf said. “Your actions came at a cost to your soul-and now your soul must pay the price.”
“Who are you?” Daniel asked, looking him up and down. “I remember Agrid Fiall-Agrid Fiall who wanted to buy me and keep me as a pet-but I don’t remember you.”
“I was there.” The elf tilted his noble face upward. “I was following behind Fiall to relieve myself. I heard the explosions from the device that slew him-slew him almost instantly-and then you turned your machine at me. One piece of metal hit my chest.” He pulled at his cloak and revealed a white, smooth chest that suddenly warped and contorted before Daniel’s eyes, turning into a livid, diseased, purple-green infected hole. The skin separated in the centre of the ugly whorl and oozed puss and blood.
“Another,” the figure continued, “struck me here.” He passed a hand across his face and it was transformed to show a gash running from the edge of his chin up to his cheek and over his ear. The sickening discolouration filled the whole side of his face; his eye was blood red, with a completely black pupil.
Daniel breathed out and looked away.
“I did
Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel saw his face change back to the fine, unmarred, porcelain-like features of a few moments ago.
Daniel swallowed. “Were you a servant? Or a guard?” he asked. The elf’s bearing, his manner, suggested something regal, and Daniel had already begun to suspect, before the words were even out of the other’s mouth.
“I was not. I was Prince Lhiam-Lhiat. You assassinated one of the royal line.”
Daniel winced. “I’m. . sorry?” he said.
“Are you though? You must think it, I’m sure, but can you say you wouldn’t do it again? Seriously consider that, right now, before you answer.”
Daniel did think about it a moment. “You’re right, I would do it again.”
Lhiam-Lhiat smiled and nodded. “You do not lie. Good. I thought you would not be regretful. But tell me why.”
“Why not? You were evil, all of you, and this world-any world-is better for you not being in it.”
“Spiteful little pup!” Fiall spat venomously. “I’ll see you regret those words!” He leapt at Daniel, springing high into the air. Trying to twist out of the way, Daniel fell back but was too slow. The enraged elf’s outstretched hands met his chest and Daniel toppled backward. He hit the ground with Fiall’s knees on his chest. He saw hands raised against the evening sky, curled claw-like as they descended, slashing at his face and neck.
But there was no pain. Or, Daniel also saw, blood. Fiall’s fingers just bounced off of him with no effect or damage to either of them. When he realised this, he just laid back and let Fiall impotently continue. Fiall’s rage gradually fell from him and he stopped. Daniel shifted his weight, pushed Fiall off of him, and then stood. Fiall was on one side of him, Lhiam-Lhiat and Stowe on the other.
“That was fun. I guess. Is that what this is, then?” Daniel asked. “I’m going to be haunted by you and shown the error of my ways? Have a miraculous change of heart and find enlightenment? Are you going to show me my past, present, and future so I can see what a ruthless monster I am? Will you take me on a tour of all the lives I’ve destroyed because of my actions and reveal the connectedness and nobility of life? That might be entertaining. Go ahead, bring it on, because you’re right, I’m
Daniel stood opposite the two tall, gaunt, marble-like apparitions, his eyes blazing. He felt the electric fire of righteousness racing though him. Lhiam-Lhiat was smiling at him in that smug, self-satisfied way of his.
The sky seemed to be growing darker.
“Do you know,” Fiall said, “I do believe I’m going to enjoy this far more than I previously imagined.”
“This isn’t a lesson,” Lhiam-Lhiat said to him. “This isn’t forgiveness or an atonement-those rules work differently in this place. This is punishment, pure and simple.”
There was a twisting feeling in Daniel’s gut. The righteous fire of defiance inside of him faltered slightly. “Torture? Doesn’t matter, I’ll get through it somehow. I’ve got friends here, and in other places. They’ll find me and rescue me. I can hold out until then. I can survive. I can escape.”
“Can you run?” Fiall asked him.
“What?” Daniel asked.
Fiall’s eyes shifted to look behind Daniel, and Daniel turned. Behind him, the sun had been setting; minutes ago, deep reds and golden yellows lit the sky. Now the cold, purple expanse of twilight filled the air above him, and on the horizon-dark. But it wasn’t the dark that was an absence of light; it was the horrible, running darkness that chases after you in nightmares. It was darkness that had an edge to it-and a sharp edge, with teeth and claws. Although it was still a far ways off, and only flickering slightly, Daniel knew with the untold certainty of a nightmare that the darkness was alive, and angry, and coming after him.
“What is that?”
“When you were a child, were you ever afraid of the dark? It was because you had not forgotten the realm that came before existence. That is Night.”
“What does it want?”
“You. Forever.”
Daniel started running. He ran as fast and as long as he could, which was considerable, since he didn’t tire here, but he couldn’t outrun the turn of the planet.
The Night was behind him. Its arms reached for him and its jaws strained for him.
Daniel’s feet desperately pounded the ground. He had looked back once and almost burst into tears; he didn’t know exactly why, but the hard, bank of blackness was terrifying, bristling with unknown horrors that he somehow, instinctively, knew would destroy him.
He felt the chill on his back as darkness creeped in around him. He thought the fear entered into him then, but it didn’t; it merely quickened the panic already in Daniel’s breast, like a sympathetic note vibrating on the fear string of his heart.
And then the Night reached out and grabbed him, physically, reaching an inconceivably cold hand into his chest and yanking backward. Unable to breathe, Daniel flung his arms out into the darkness.
He only had a second to acknowledge the terror before pain became his world. He felt his skin tear, like it was being stripped, torn off of him one thread at a time, layer by layer, leaving the raw flesh beneath exposed. The pain was so excruciating he wished he would dissipate, like earlier. He cursed his body, his useless, pointless body that now only seemed to exist in order to house the pain.
He was screaming-at least, he thought he was screaming. He could hear nothing. The Night and its pain blocked out all noise.
He tumbled in torment for countless hours. Days? How could he stop the pain? How could he manage it?