“No!” said Emer. “Be silent! Release the man or he will die!”
One last wild protest, broken short by the iron purpose of the Wise Ones. A moment of hesitation—a stab of pain too deep for human understanding—and then the barrier was gone.
The alien presence, the unholy sharing of the flesh, were gone and the mind of Matthew Carse closed over the shadow and hid it. The voice of Rhiannon was stilled.
Like a dead man Carse sagged against his bonds. The light went out of the crystal. Emer let her hands fall. Her head bent forward so that her bright hair veiled her face and the Wise Ones covered their faces also and remained motionless. The Sea Kings, Ywain, even Boghaz, were held speechless, like men who have narrowly escaped destruction and only realized later how close death has come.
Carse moaned once. For a long time that and his harsh gasping breath were the only sounds.
Then Emer said, “The man must die.”
There was nothing in her now but weariness and a grim truth. Carse heard dimly Rold’s heavy answer.
“Aye. There is no other way.”
Boghaz would have spoken but they silenced him.
Carse said thickly, “It isn’t true. Such things can’t be.”