Longing Ring

33

J'role remained on his knees a long time, then, as if in a trance, feeling nothing and thinking nothing, he walked back down the corridors, searching for a way out. He ended up at the treasure room.

Blood had splattered all over the room's wealth, and the value of the gold and silver jewels seemed slight in comparison to the precious red fluid that stained them.

He saw that Garlthik still breathed. He walked quickly over to him, his feet stumbling on some coins. J'role knelt down beside the ork, and the old thief opened his one good eye.

"Ah, lad. Still alive? Good for you. That's the test."

Garlthik began to stand, and J’role tried to push him down. He could wait until help was brought.

"No, no. I want to move. Have to keep moving." He stood and said, "Come."

The two of them wandered down the corridor, using a torch to find a way out of the catacombs. J’role did not speak, for he was afraid of what would happen if he tried. The creature was no longer in his head, and that was good enough. That and walking alongside Garlthik again.

They made their way out into the sunlight and J'role had to cover his eyes with his hands against the sudden brightness. In the distance he heard people calling his name.

Garlthik cocked his head to one side at the sound of the cries. "Ah. I'd best be going.

People are coming for you."

J'role took hold of the ork's sleeve.

"No. No," Garlthik said. "It's better if I go on. They want you. I'm just a potential prisoner. Give me some time to get away, will you?”

J'role nodded.

Garlthik touched his hand to J'role's cheek. Then the one eyed ork ran off through the rotting, ruined streets of Parlainth.

"J'role!" Releana called, and he turned to see her and half a dozen dwarfs walking quickly toward him. The faces and armor of the dwarfs were blood-stained, but they wore smiles.

"Are you all right?" Releana asked as she rushed up to J'role and took his bleeding wrist.

His blood flowed over her hand.

Too many ideas and thoughts crowded into J'role's head. Without meaning to, and without understanding what he was doing, he opened his mouth and said, "I …"

The voice was like a baby's cry raspy and painful. He heard his first true utterance in more than half his life and crumpled to his knees, tears swelling in his eyes and running down his cheeks. He thought of his mother and his father and wondered how they could have done such a thing to him. And he wondered how he could have done what he had done to his father. He wanted forgiveness from his father, a forgiveness that would never come. And he wanted to forgive his parents, a forgiveness he thought he could never give.

Releana was kneeling beside him, holding his bloody hand. The others had also gathered around. J'role wanted to speak to her, to show her he had done it. He had gotten his voice back.

But the tears flowed too thick, and his voice cracked with sobs, and his throat was so thick with grief that he could not speak a single word.