Weis, Margaret - Deathgate Cycle 04 - Serpent Mage by Weis Margaret

Author:Weis, Margaret
Language: eng
Format: epub

Devon stared up at him, face anguished, twisted, bitter. "You had no right,"

he whispered hoarsely, his throat sore and bruised from the vine's grip. "I want to die! Let me die, damn you! Let me die!"

Alake cried out. "No, Devon! You don't know what you're saying!"

"He knows," said Haplo grimly. He sat back on his heels, wiped his hand across his sweaty forehead. "You and Grundle go on back to the path. Let me talk to him." "But—"

"Go!" Haplo yelled angrily.

Grundle tugged on Alake's hand. The two made their way back slowly through the trampled leaves and slashed plants to the path beyond.

"You want to die," Haplo said to the elf, who averted his head, shut his eyes.

"Go ahead, then. Hang yourself. I can't stop you. But I'd appreciate it if you'd wait until after we get all this business about the sun-chasers settled, because I assume there'll be another long period of grieving over you, and the delay could endanger your people."

The elf refused to look at him. "They'll be all right. They have something to live for. I don't." His words were a hoarse croak. He grimaced at the pain.

"Yeah? Well, what do you think your parents will have to live for after they cut your body down from that tree limb? You have any idea what their last memory of you will be? Your face bloated, skin discolored, black as rotting fungus; your eyes bugged out of your head, your tongue sticking out of your mouth?"

Devon blanched, cast Haplo a hate-filled glance, and turned his head again.

"Go away," he muttered.

"You know"—Haplo continued as if he hadn't heard—"if your body hangs there long enough, the carrion birds'll come. The first thing they go for is the eyes. Your parents may not even recognize their son—or what's left of him, when the birds are finished, not to mention the ants and the flies—"

"Stop!" Devon tried to shout, but it came out a sob.

"And there's Alake and Grundle. They lost one friend, now they'll lose another. You didn't give them a thought, either, I suppose? No, just yourself.

The pain, I can't bear the pain,' " Haplo mimicked the elf's light, piping voice.

"What do you know about it?" Devon cried.

"What do I know about it ... about pain," Haplo repeated softly. "Let me tell you a story, then I'll leave you to kill yourself, if that's what you want. I knew a man, once, in the Laby— a place I lived. He was in a fight, a terrible fight, for his life. In that place, you have to fight to stay alive, you don't fight to die. Anyway, this man was hurt horribly. Wounds ... all over his body. His suffering was beyond belief, beyond endurance.

"The man defeated his enemies. The chaodyn lay dead around him. But he couldn't go on. He hurt too much. He could have tried to heal himself with his magic, but it didn't seem to him to be worth the effort. He lay on the ground, letting the life seep out of him.

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