The Forever Knight: A Novel of the Bronze Knight (Books of the Bronze Knight) by John Marco Page B

wondered if I had conjured him the way I’d conjured Cass’s voice.
    “I’m all alone, Malator,” I whispered. The desolation and empty road felt unbearable. “Why am I here? Why’d I come? I miss her so much. I
should
be with her. Really with her.”
    “She doesn’t want that, Lukien. She told you that. She wants you to live and find your destiny.”
    Malator didn’t understand. He’d spent his whole life fighting, back when he was alive. He’d never been in love. Not really. I sat down beside him in the dusty road, laying the sword across my lap. “Shouldn’t you be in here resting?” I asked, tapping the blade.
    “I’m all right now,” he said in a reedy voice. “Your loneliness woke me. I’m very angry with you.”
    “Angry? Why?”
    “For making me save you—again. You shouldn’t even be here talking to me. You should be floating around somewhere like a ghost. You know where you’d be if I let you die? In Arad. That would be your death place.”
    Like Cassandra in the apple orchard, a death place is where a soul resides when the body finally expires. But Cassandra’s orchard was a far better place to spend eternity than Arad.
    “That’s not what’s bothering you,” I said. “You’re angry because you think I tried to kill myself.”
    “Didn’t you? I thought I had you figured out, Lukien. I thought you wanted to die just to be with Cassandra again. Now I can’t tell if you’re trying to die or just trying to prove yourself.”
    “You saw what he did to Cricket, Malator. You know what he wanted. Wrestler deserved to die. And when I see him again he will.”
    “You mean when you go to Akyre?”
    “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You told me to come to the Bitter Kingdoms, remember? Well, here I am! I don’t see a whole lot of answers! What’s the point of me coming to this shithole? What am I supposed to find here?”
    Malator grinned. “Why ask, Lukien? You know I’m not going to tell you.”
    “You make me want to strangle you, Malator. But . . .” I leaned back. “Thank you for saving me. I was afraid when I was dying. Just floating in that darkness.” I looked at him. “What was that thing I saw, Malator? Tell me that at least.”
    “I still don’t know,” said Malator. “Maybe nothing. Maybe just a symbol.”
    “No, it was real. I saw it. It was dead like me, only it wasn’t.”
    “Just like you.”
    “That’s right. It was dead, and it wasn’t dead. What could be like that, Malator? You must know.”
    “I know a lot of things, Lukien. Some of them I can tell you, some of them I can’t.”
    “You drew that thing in the sand, then told me not to take Cricket with me. Is that thing after Cricket?”
    “I can’t answer. I told you that already.”
    “All right,” I said, “then what’s this Legion of the Lost that boy mentioned? Diriel’s death army?”
    Malator looked around, then up at the stars. “It’s dark. How is your vision, Lukien?”
    “No, don’t do that. Don’t ignore me.”
    “I’m not. How is your eye?”
    “My eye is fine, damn-it. Better than fine.”
    “And you feel good? Your neck feels good? You feel strong?”
    “Yes, I feel strong! Why?”
    Malator shrugged. “I give you what I can, Lukien. I give you
everything
I can. Do you realize how dark it is out here? The moon seems bright because you’re more than just a man now. I made you that way. Cricket or Marilius wouldn’t be able to find their shoes in this darkness. They’d have never made it to the road. So don’t ask me for answers I can’t give you, please. Just take what I offer.” He stood and glared down at me. “You can go on or you can turn back. It’s up to you. Or you can just go back to Torlis and spend your days babbling to Cassandra in the Story Garden. I don’t manipulate you, Lukien. It’s always been up to you.”
    “I know,” I grumbled.
    Malator held out an upturned palm, summoning a tiny yellow flame. He blew on the flame, making it grow