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he plink of water slowly oozing through the filth of the city high above drew Pendaran awake. Time was meaningless in the endless darkness, measured only in breath and heartbeat. He groaned in misery, curled around the agony of his guts. The water that sustained him had also brought him disease. Feverish, he strained on his belly toward the nearest edge that was within reach of his chains and vomited into the void.
Pain no longer seemed such a grand thing and he chided himself for once seeking it out. Withdrawing to the safety of the wall against his back, he lay trembling on the cold stone, faintly aware that part of him genuinely wanted to continue existing, dragging his weary soul along with it. The part that resided with his thoughts, however, was ready to move on. He would die soon regardless, whether by starvation or illness. It was a matter of time. Perhaps the foul water had been a small mercy.
"Luitha?" he croaked, wondering what had become of the ghost since their final angry encounter. She had been good to her word and abandoned him although his talents had occasionally detected the blue spark of her grief and anger lurking at the periphery of his consciousness, "I'm sorry I was so horrible to you."
The slow susurration of the rushing water far below swallowed his meager voice, smoothing over his words as if they had never existed. He imagined himself as little more than a pebble cast into a deep pool; a moment of brilliance, spreading ripples and then nothing.
"You're dying," Luitha said softly.
"I suppose you're something of an authority on that," he mused silently, too tired now to make an effort to speak, "How long have I got?"
The pale figure dazzled his light starved eyes as she knelt beside him, her translucent hands and face so perfect and beautiful as he gazed upon her. Sadness dwelt in her youthful visage.
"Two days if nature takes its course, a week if you will yourself to continue," she replied.
"How long has it been?"
"Ten days."
"No one is coming for me, are they?"
"The only way here was bricked in," Luitha replied sadly, "Kiku meant for you to starve to death. After going mad of course."
"Assuming I was not mad already."
A thrill of cold brushed his cheek as the ghost made an effort to touch him. He was weeping again and he felt foolish laying there so helpless and alone. Could he ever atone for what he had done? Would the mists part to reveal his loved ones waiting for him on the other side, or would the gods see fit to punish him for squandering the gift of life?
"So many regrets," Luitha sighed, perusing his mind, "If you could have fulfilled one of them, what would it be?"
"My greatest fear was being alone," Pendaran replied bitterly, "and yet I did everything in my power to ensure that it happened. I wish I had stayed with Clarissa."
The chains clinked as he lifted a hand to brush the ghost's dainty fingers. His arm trembled beneath the weight of his bonds and he let it fall, his breath catching in his throat as his innards heaved in pain.
"I'll be here to the end," Luitha soothed and he rolled onto his side to gaze up her, so lovely and forlorn through the blur of his tears. She was like an angel forged of light and purity. His nausea lifted a little and he relaxed, his breathing coming easier despite the sharp pains that needled his back and innards.
"Why was I able to see the sapphire around Uriel's neck?" he asked after a time, closing his eyes to welcome sleep, "No one can see it on me."
"I was ready to let go of her," Luitha sighed, "I was never meant to burden her."
"But I was?"
Luitha shrugged sadly.
"I cannot tell you, that is a condition of the curse."
"It always is. Perhaps then you will tell me how you came to be?"
"The usual way," she replied, "I had parents, I was born, and I died."
"But how did you get tied to the stone?"
"No more grief for you, Pendaran, you have your own death to consider now."
"To be honest, it would come as something of a relief to think about someone else for a change," he replied sadly.
Luitha smiled softly and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Her chill lips brushed his flesh and he wished she were alive and they could truly touch one another.
"I wish I could hold you," Luitha whispered, dismayed when he began weeping anew, "I'm sorry, Pendaran. You did not deserve this."
Exhausted beyond measure, he grew still once more as the ghost looked down upon him, her soft features full of woe. He remarked the richness of her translucent dress, the seed pearls and embroidery etched in an iridescent glow. And he saw a darkness in her chest, a knot of shadow like a bloodstain over her heart.
"Tell me how you were tied to the stone," he coughed, "Please, I need a story to send me to sleep."
"Very well," she whispered, settling down beside him so that he could gaze into her face without stirring.
"My home was in the land known now as Orr," she began, her voice little more than a sigh, "but my people are gone now. Not even ruins remain and all of our works are dust. We served the gods that came before, cruel gods that demanded blood upon their altars. People might fear Grenth, but he is just and kind compared to the one he replaced.
"I was a noble, destined to marry and live well, provided I did not spurn nor abuse my suitors, for I was also proud. I delighted in humiliating them and I sent many away angry or wounded. In my arrogance, I used them for my amusement and yielded to none.
"But war tore our three kingdoms apart and, there being no trust between our nations, the people appealed to the holy men and women to find a way to restore the uneasy peace of yesterday. And so they made their prayers and danced their rituals and determined that the source of aggression was as a result of mistrust and mistrust could only be combated with truth.
"Thus the priests of the old gods requested a noble sacrifice, a priceless treasure given by each of the three warring kingdoms that we might be unified in peace. From the first came a sapphire of infinite beauty shaped in the form of a tear to represent the bitterness of war. From the second a choker of purest white platinum to lie over the throat as a reminder of the power of truth. And from my kingdom, a noble virgin whose pure blood would bind the power of the old gods to the whole.
"That is how the curse was laid, my life force expended and my soul forever bound to the stone. The cruel and fickle gods sought to mock us for they delighted in war and twisted the pure intentions of the kingdoms. So it was that when the jewel was placed at the throats of the diplomats and generals, they spoke not only of their plans for peace, but also of their desire for vengeance and plunder and dominion.
"And that is why the three kingdoms are no more," she said bitterly, "for in the end, the jewel fomented greater hatred and the lands were slaked with the blood of our people. All of our sacrifices were for naught."
"How sad," Pendaran replied, opening his eyes to look upon her agonized face, "How long has it been?"
Luitha burned brightly for a moment, then faded to the shimmer of moonlight on water.
"I do not know, Pendaran," she whispered, "The centuries pass one after another and still I endure. I have walked this weary path with nine others but only Uriel carried me with love and gentleness."
"I'll love you in the time remains to me," Pendaran said gently, "Stay by me and I'll sing to you."
"No, beloved, rest."
"I'd rather sing to you while my life remains. I will be silent soon enough."
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