The Power and the Glory

Book 3 Chapter XVII: No Escape

Hartanna froze. She and her husband rarely saw eye to eye on anything, but she had thought he knew better than to bring up that horrible incident. He continued in spite of her silence.

"My mother used to say the Sinistrah family is cursed. I think she was right. How else can you explain what happened to Imrahil?"

It had been years since anyone mentioned Imrahil. Hartanna tried not to think about him. She couldn't bear it. Hearing his name reminded her of the last time she'd ever seen him. He'd been dressed all in red, soaked in blood, and laughing. That laugh still rang in her ears over a thousand years after his death.

"Shut up," she snapped.

Mihrasin fell silent. After a minute he got up and left without another word. Hartanna sank back into her chair. A memory came back to her, of Imrahil playing with his pet rabbit. It changed to what had happened a month after that.

"Why did you kill the rabbit?"

Imrahil shrugged. "I wanted to see what would happen." His face changed and his voice distorted. "I wanted to see what would happen," he said, now looking and sounding exactly like Abihira. "I wanted to see-- I wanted to-- I wanted."

~~~~

Siarvin kept a close eye on Ilaran over the days following the possession. He didn't complain of being constantly hungry. He didn't get up in the middle of the night. He didn't lash out at anyone. In fact he seemed to be perfectly normal during the day. But during the night he tossed and turned for ages. Even when he lay still his breathing was too irregular for him to be asleep. After the second night Siarvin decided enough was enough.

"What's wrong?" he asked at breakfast the next morning.

Ilaran started. That was another difference. He was much more nervous than he ever had been before. The slightest sound would make him flinch. "Nothing," he said, stabbing his fork into his porridge. "Why would anything be wrong?"

Siarvin stared at him blankly. "...Are you joking?"

Ilaran bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. "What do you think?" His voice suddenly became much colder. "I've died, been brought back, been possessed, and eaten a corpse. I can still taste her blood in my mouth. What the hell do you think is wrong?"

Siarvin stared in horror. Ilaran dropped his fork and pushed his chair back. He was shaking now and he had gone a sickly shade of green.

"I'm sorry," he said in a calmer tone. "I didn't mean to shout at you. I just--"

He paled. Without a word he jumped up and ran out. Siarvin heard him retching in the bathroom.

When Ilaran came back he was still pale but slightly less green. Siarvin spoke before he had a chance to.

"I think it's time you went home."

Naturally Ilaran began to protest. He certainly had inherited Aderthril's stubbornness. "But I still have things to do here. I have to be there for Haliran's trial--"

"I can take care of everything for you," Siarvin interrupted. "As for the trial, that won't happen for at least a month. You know how long the legal system takes to do anything. You can come back for it. But in the meantime you need to go back to Tananerl. You're not going to recover here."

It took Ilaran a surprisingly short time to agree, which showed he must have been thinking along the same lines himself. For the rest of the morning they made plans for his return to Tananerl and what Siarvin would do while he was gone.

"I'll follow in about a week and bring Irímé with me," Siarvin said.

Ilaran nodded absently. He was thinking about something else again. He had that distracted look in his eyes that showed he wasn't really listening. "Have you heard anything from Abihira since... Since then?"