Faces of Deception (Lost Empires) by Troy Denning

Author:Troy Denning [Denning, Troy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786962051
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

11

The fall took … how long? To Atreus, it seemed the mere flash of an instant and the endless drag of forever. Beneath him rose the thousand-spoked wheel, still spinning, as vast and as flat as a dead calm sea. The feathery snowflake in the center hovered motionless, growing neither larger nor smaller, but growing more brilliant with each passing moment. The long plummet made his stomach qualmish and hollow, and the brightening snowflake filled his eyes with a cold, scratchy ache. The chill air whipped past his face, tickling his flesh, drawing the heat from his body. His joints stiffened and his bones grew as heavy as ice. He plunged toward the frigid oblivion of the dead, blinded by the glare of that feathery, six-pointed star.

An eternity later, the snowflake melted into a dark-hearted halo. Something pressed itself against Atreus’s frozen lips. His numb flesh sensed only the weight, not the touch. Warm air swirled down through his throat and flooded his lungs. His pulse boomed to life. Blood rushed in his ears. The halo grew dim, and he saw Seema’s smooth cheek pressed close, her brown eyes staring down at him, her dark hair making a tent around their faces. Her soft lips were pressed against his and her mouth was working, her hot breath mingling with his. A sense of joyous wonder welled up inside him, and something more primal stirred lower down. He reached up, twined his fingers into her silky hair, and returned the kiss.

Seema pulled away, her brow arching in surprise.

Atreus took his hand out of Seema’s hair, dimly aware that he had made a terrible mistake. “I, uh … I thought.…” he trailed off, fearing he would only make matters worse. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It certainly felt like you meant to!” Seema’s cheeks darkened, then she laughed lightly and called over her shoulder, “Have no fear for your friend. He only lured me down here to steal a kiss.”

“Not at all!” said Atreus, mortified and struggling to identify where “here” was. “We were in Langdarma—”

“You have seen Langdarma?” Seema gasped.

“Yes,” Atreus said, thankful to talk about anything but the kiss. “It is … white … and beautiful … and we were inside a …”

The image faded even as he tried to describe it. He recalled only the peace, the feeling of falling, and a handsome face in a shimmering mirror. He closed his eyes, trying to recreate the memory through sheer will, but it was lost, wiped away when he kissed Seema.

Seema clasped his forearm. “You cannot describe Langdarma,” she told him, her voice warm and understanding. “Is bliss not different for everyone?”

“I … I don’t know,” Atreus answered, still confused by his surroundings.

He seemed to be lying in the bottom of a small white well, with Seema crammed in beside him. About six feet above her, Rishi and Yago were kneeling atop the wall, silhouetted against a brilliant blue sky, furiously dragging armfuls of snow away from the edge.

As soon as Atreus remembered the snow, comprehension came crashing in like the avalanche itself.

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