The ork leader spoke in his own tongue to Mordom, and Mordom looked out past the crowd, toward the two sets of approaching riders. The smugness washed from his face.
He said something to the ork leader, who replied sharply, first sweeping his arm toward the flat hilltop, then pointing at Releana.
Mordom smiled down at her. "My barbaric associate tells me you know the words to bring the city back. Let's have them, quick. I think I've worked hard enough to gather the credit for saving this city." He glanced past J’role and the others again, and this time J'role turned as well. The elves and dwarfs would arrive in mere minutes.
Releana stood defiantly silent, Mordom threw up his hands. "Enough," he said, trusting his hand into the air and squeezing it into a fists Suddenly Releana gave out a gasp and clutched her chest. She stood precariously, as if about to fall over yet unable to. J'role started to rush forward, hut Garlthik grabbed him with his strong hand and held him in place.
"I can do many things to you, girl. This is just the beginning. If you don't tell me how to call the city back when I let you go, it will all get much worse."
The creature began writhing wildly in J'role's thoughts, as if in a: panic. "Do something,"
it hissed at him over and over. "Do something!"
J'role slipped out of Garlthik's grasp and rushed toward Mordom, his hands still bound.
The sudden action startled everyone present. All except for Slinsk, who laughed and slashed his blade at J'role even as J'role raced toward it.
Then Garlthik appeared at J'role's side, parrying the blow at the last — instant, the swords clanging against each other right next to J'role's ear. Garlthik gave out a cry as the orks around him cut him with their large blades. Through the cries of pain he shouted, "Speak the words! Damn your pride! The city is our only chance!"
J'role bowled straight into the surprised Mordom. The two of them tumbled to the ground. Over the rising din of approaching hoof beats, J'role heard Releana shout "You are found. There is a place for you in the world. Come home. "
With one hand Phlaren grabbed J'role roughly by the neck and raised him high, setting his face just in front of hers. "Do you know, I've wanted to kill you for so very, very long now." J'role remembered the man he'd knocked into the pit back at the kaer, and Phlaren's intense reaction to the news of the death. She had carried that hatred for weeks and weeks. With her free hand Phlaren drew a dagger from her belt.
Suddenly an arrow barbed with thorns sliced through her neck. She held J'role for a moment longer, then collapsed to the ground, dropping him as she did.
J'role whirled and saw the elves riding up, their skeleton steeds galloping wildly, their bowmen firing furiously into the ork raiders. The orks grabbed spears and shields and braced themselves for the elven assault. The dwarfs would arrive any moment.
Then something else caught J'role's attention. A shimmering of star-white walls, the dim shapes forming like fog on a spring evening.
The city was returning, but his view was suddenly cut off as the bleach-white bones of a horse galloped by. An ork leaped forward, driving his spear into the elf who rode the long-dead animal, piercing the elf's chest and knocking him to the ground. Dozens more elves arrived, wielding swords that glowed blue in the dying light of day. While the orks scrambled to reach their steeds, the elves struck them down to the right and the left.
J'role turned back too the city, the battle suddenly forgotten as he remembered his longing to find it, his desire to find the people who might help him. He stood, still and ridiculously placid as the battle swirled around him.
The walls formed.
They weren't new and shiny, as before. They were as Garlthik had seen them. Huge blocks that had collapsed onto each other decades before. Thick cracks cut through the ruined walls. Within the walls he saw Parlainth’s fallen towers, the remains of the city's great halls, the huge pyramids covered with gnarled gray vines.
Not a living thing stirred within the ruins.
J 'role dropped to his knees. Stunned.
The dwarfs arrived, reining in their ponies, shocked by the sight. Even the elves and orks brought their mounts to a stop. The silence descended heavily, broken only by the snorts and whinnies of the many riding beasts in the area. Everyone stared in amazement at the seemingly endless ruins of Parlainth. The city stretched on and on, the once glorious, astounding metropolis now the scene of fractures, cracks, rocks, and ruined buildings.
None of them had ever seen anything with as much promise of beauty.
The sight before J'role echoed in his thoughts. The arrival of the city had changed everything. Now all gathered here knew exactly what had been lost during the Scourge.
Then suddenly, inexplicably the fighting began again. Faces filled with fury, the dwarfs, the elves, the orks all raised their arms once more, shouting their battle cries, and rushing at one another. J'role looked around, incredulous. Only those who at any time had worn the ring of longing- Mordom, Slinsk, Garlthik, J'role, and one of the elves in fine clothes of silk and with the ring of longing on his finger-remained too entranced by the city to continue the fight.
An impulse overcame J'role, a sudden urge to rush toward the city walls. He dodged in and out of the fight, just avoiding death by sword, spear, and trampling. The others followed him, desperate to finally reach the city, to be where they had wanted to be for so long. Only Releana, of all those who had never worn the ring, joined the race toward the city, following her J'role.
When he reached Parlainth, J'role staggered once more to his knees, the sight draining him of strength. Shattered skeletons lay everywhere, in some spots become no more than scattered bones. Some of the skeletons had been driven through with swords and spears.
Others were no more than rib cages dangling from spires. But over this image J'role could still see clearly the splendor that had once been Parlainth. The contrast tore at him, and he thought he would die.
Then he spotted a street he recognized, even though he knew that was impossible, and he ran for it. Releana called after him. He ignored her.
Reaching the street, he turned right, and then left, passing ancient bones and ruined buildings, rotted fragments of once-glorious flying chariots. He followed a path he thought he knew, and as he ran J'role began to shake, as if taken by a fever. The sound of his footsteps began to pound loudly in his ears; the air seemed to tear at his flesh. Behind him he heard Releana calling for him. He had lost her, but did not care. What mattered was ahead of him. His "memories" led him forward.
He reached a fallen building. Its wide columns had collapsed and spilled out into the street; the doorways at the top of the steps lay crushed under the roof.
But that didn't matter. He needed to go down. Yes. Down. He ran down the side of the building, toward a door leading down…
Motion behind him. He whirled. A huge ha d grabbed his bound wrists.
Garlthik One-Eye.
He stared down at J'role serious. Terrified? Yes, terrified. The ork licked his lips. His voice was dry and cracked. "Not what I expected …"
J'role shook his head.
But then Garlthik smiled, a child trying to make things right with a wish. "But you know something, don't you? Don't you?" Garlthik did not wait for an answer, but grabbed J'role by the shoulders and shook him wildly. "You know something!" he whispered harshly. "I saw it in you. You know something."
J 'role nodded his head, desperate to please Garlthik so he would stop hurting him.
"Yes, yes," the ork mumbled and with his dagger cut the ropes that bound J'role. "Here,"
he said indicating the stairs leading down. "Down here?"
J'role nodded. Yes. Something important was down there.
"Lead on."
They descended the stairs and came to a heavy stone door. Working together they forced it open, but then had to turn away from the sickly smell that came pouring out, Garlthik raising his cloak before his mouth, J’role using his hands. J'role spotted a torch resting in a sconce. He pointed it out to Garlthik, who grabbed it and lit it with some flint from a sack on his belt.