Healed by Hope by Jim Melvin

know things that Yama-Deva should not know. How much of Mala remains within you?”
    If the snow giant was offended, he did not show it. “I remember . . . everything ,” Deva said sadly. “But it is as if I have memorized the tales of someone else’s life. I am aware of all of Mala’s atrocities, but it does not feel to me as if Deva performed them. Does that make sense, Asēkha?”
    “Yes, it does,” Podhana admitted.
    As they continued their march, Podhana lost track of time. Was it day or night? Who knew? The company had gathered enough supplies in Avici to last for at least a week, but their appetites were dampened. They walked slowly, like hunched old men, and stopped to rest far more often than was necessary. Sleep came too easily in the blackness. If not for the Golden Road, they all might have wandered into oblivion. But the stone at their feet steadied them.
    Eventually, the darkness dissipated, and an overcast morning emerged. That day they walked a little faster and covered twelve leagues before dusk, though they still felt weary and slept all through the night. A bright sunrise greeted them the next morning, renewing their spirits. Soon Kilesa came into view, a stone city no match for Avici in scope but formidable nonetheless.
    Deva halted. Podhana looked at him curiously. “Are we in danger?” Podhana said. Then he noticed that tears were welling in the snow giant’s large eyes.
    “Do you not sense it?” Deva said in barely a whisper. Then without warning, he stampeded into the city.
    “Wait!” Podhana said, but to no avail. He shouted to the others: “Follow him, but remain wary.”
    Maynard Tew stepped forward. “Master Asēkha,” he said to Podhana. “I know the best way to the catacombs, if that is where the snow giant is going. I have been to Kilesa many times, though I’m no longer proud of it. Me and my boys brought the Daasa here . . . thousands and thousands. We didn’t know what the sorcerer was doing with them, but he paid in gold, so we didn’t ask.” Then Tew looked at Dhītar, who stood nearby. “I’m a different guy now, I promise.”
    Podhana grunted. “Show us the way.”
    Tew led them to a causeway framed by weeping willows that had dropped their leaves. The drooping branches resembled wiry hair. Beyond the trees loomed Kilesa, a grotesque assemblage of square stone buildings, most just a single story in height. There were many doors made of strange white metal, but few windows. Vents sprang from the flat rooftops, and from them issued foul-smelling smoke. The ground was hard-packed, gray, and dead—and upon it Deva had left no tracks.
    An elaborate maze of alleyways ran between the snuggly fitted buildings, and Podhana realized that it would have been easy for even a Tugar to become disoriented. But Tew never halted or appeared confused, always choosing the middle path whenever there was more than one way to proceed. It wasn’t until late afternoon that they came upon a pair of huge doors that had been torn from their bolted hinges and cast aside.
    “I think he went that way,” Tew said in understated fashion.
    Podhana arched an eyebrow. “Where does it lead?”
    “It dives deep underground. The way is steep but wide. That’s one of the main places where the Daasa were herded.”
    “Is it wide enough for all of us?” Podhana said.
    “For a while, at least,” Tew said. “But it smells weird down there, and it’s kinda spooky. I wish the snow giant had waited for us. I’d feel better if he was leading the way.”
    “It appears that he is,” Bruugash said, his protruding eyes wobbling.
    Podhana left an Asēkha and half the Tugars to guard the entrance and then descended with the others into the catacombs. They filed through the battered opening and down a steep stone decline before spilling into a broad chamber that was well-lighted by peculiar glass lamps. Waist-high railings with deep-set grooves lined each wall.
    “We put yokes around the