When the Heavens Fall by Turner Marc

Author:Turner, Marc [Turner, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781466831209
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

EVEN FROM several hundred paces away Parolla could see the Forest of Sighs was dying. The branches of the trees drooped as if drought stricken, and rust-colored leaves swirled between the boles. As the forest died it released a flood of necromantic energies, and Parolla inhaled them on every breath. The effect was intoxicating, a heady rush that made her heart thunder in her chest, made the darkness within her seethe and bubble. Looking down, she saw she was digging her fingernails into her palms. Blood trickled to her wrists, but there was no pain. The wounds healed immediately, the skin knitting together until not even the faintest scar remained.

The deserted tribal settlement she walked through was a haphazard cluster of huts built from planks overlaid with animal hides. At the center of the village was a stand of trees, all of which were dying. Small wonder the savages who’d once lived here had fled if even their sacred glades were succumbing to the infection. The branches of the trees were adorned with fetishes and strips of cloth similar to those that had decorated the glade where Parolla had met the dwarf. Strangely, however, the ditch surrounding the trees was empty of bones.

Pausing in the shade of a doorway, she unstoppered her flask and drank deeply. Water was no longer a necessity, because the death-magic emanating from the forest was all the nourishment she needed. Parolla, though, was wary about becoming dependent on its … sustenance. Already the dark energies were starting to stain her mood. Every time she closed her eyes her blood would rise to immerse her, and the black tide brought with it memories from parts of her mind she had long believed closed off. The recollections fanned to new life the flames of her bitterness, her yearning for vengeance. And as her resentment grew, so the voice of restraint inside her became harder to discern.

She should turn back now, she knew. Doubtless the effects of the death-magic would only become stronger as she traveled toward its source. And while she feared she might be overwhelmed by the darkness, she feared even more losing the will to fight it. There was so little in her past that was not tainted. How simple it would be to surrender to her blood and let it burn away the doubt and self-pity. Parolla laughed. Turn back, would she? What did she have to return to? Where would she go? Shaking her head, she replaced the cap in her water bottle. She had chosen her path a long time ago, and it was too late to stray from it now. Especially since she was so close to what she sought. The source of the strands of death-magic was somewhere within the forest, no more than a handful of days’ travel to the south and east.

Near enough for her to risk scouting what lay ahead.

Parolla sat down and closed her eyes, then felt a moment of light-headedness as her spirit floated free from her body.

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