“Paladin Valen,” she said, “You have served me well. You have shown courage before the darkness that hunts mankind. You have extended courtesy and kindness to all who sought your aid, and done more even beyond that.”
He bowed his head. She was going to forgive him. She understood. All he had done was worth something.
“But you belong to the Foe in truth and so you are cast from our midst to the Void.”
He lifted his head back up and stared at her. A thousand words leapt to his tongue but they all died before those inhuman, ruthless eyes.
“I curse my own blindness. I was offered a child as I was offered many, and I saw no difference but his excellence. It was a trick.” Beneath Valen, the nothingness roiled, somehow seeming to reach upwards to him. He felt its touch in his bones, a mark he’d borne as long as he was alive. He saw it, too, now, like blacked burns across his body. “I used him to send forth the Temple with our anchors to a haven, and for that and his fine service I decline to burn him away. But I shall endure the consequences of my folly without protest.”
The tree-man’s branches rustled and that was how he spoke. “All motions seconded.”
“None of it was his doing,” Alberan said in a voice like dead leaves and falling stones, “They are all tainted.”
“This was a plot,” Lyrica said, “The stain is deep. The Foe’s will is stripped of its power by its mortal form’s awakening, but you know it will claim all it can from the shattered ones. The stain is too great a risk. We must stomp it out where we can.”
There were voices, then, a clamor of noises that hid words, all at once, then a sudden silence.
“The Paladin is banished to the Void. We shall not escort him through to the Seat of Paradise. Lyrica shall diminish,” the tree-man pronounced, “The Tribunal now opens the floor for nominations to her rank.”
Lyrica looked once at Valen, perhaps with pity, and threw out a golden arm.
Before Valen’s eyes, suddenly, was the wide door of the shrine. Smoke was heavy in the air. The ornate boots had not moved.
His heart was thundering, slowly, slower.
Then it stopped, and so did he.
About the Author
Kathryn Zurmehly is a U.S. Army veteran and a native of Phoenix, Arizona, where she currently lives. She received her undergraduate degree in history from Arizona State University and her Master’s degree from Grand Canyon University. She reads, writes, pets dogs, practices Krav Maga, and pays her bills. She would like the thank the readers who made it this far for doing what they can for her ‘whiskey and ammunition’ fund. Please visit her website at kathrynzurmehly.com to read her book reviews, writing tips, and news about the next book in the Paladon Trilogy.
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