She could only return his gaze, sorrowfully and in silence. A tender and wistful smile half-parted her lips. He knew she was past the point of being able to speak. There was a frightened look in his eyes. The same fear seized him as had his first grief.

"It must not be," he said in a broken voice. "You cannot leave me. Do not die. You must not die, not now. What shall I do without you?" The very tissue of his aching heart was wounded and damaged by the coming of death. He gathered her to him, holding her as firmly as his strength allowed. His fingers wandered over her cheek piteously. Her name came to his lips in a quiet sob.

It seemed she was staring beyond him into eternity. Trembling, he lowered his face until his lips were on hers lightly, but lingeringly. Then drawing back he gazed into her face once more, seeing it dimly through tears. A pale unearthly beauty had overspread it, and she was gazing with those open, unconscious eyes. It seemed that the last kindle of life was dying.

At last freed, Cedrik and Derek were hurrying toward them, when the older brother suddenly halted and put out his arm, preventing the other from going further. Something in the situation impressed him with a sense of fatality. Together they stood watching, helpless and struck motionless.

In his embrace Magenta seemed slowly to pa.s.s from him. All life seemed gone out of her. There was no motion, not even the slight tremble which he had felt shudder in her frame. Her heart had slowed to an almost imperceptible pulse, and all bodily functions that were not required began to close down. Her breath softened to an undetectable whisper. Her body making an attempt to restore itself, she entered a state where the deep unconscious mind was invoked to repair and regenerate, diverting all energy to preserve life.

In this state of healing, she pa.s.sed into an oblivion that appeared like death. Her delicate features a.s.sumed a deathlike pallor. No sign of life was visible in her body nor face. The progress was strangely gentle, so gradual Deacon could scarce believe that this was life pa.s.sing into death. Yet her face was pale, unchanging and unmoving. Her eyes slowly closed, and it appeared as if she had fallen into a repose so profound it could end only in death. In whispered anguish he repeated her name again and again, stroking her cheek as if to stir in her the sign of life which he asked for, but she lay in a deep state from which it was impossible for him to rouse her.

At the precise moment he saw that she was gone from him, he felt his heart die within him, and, with unutterable anguish, he stared into her lifeless face till he trembled with sorrow. All at once his seared, ruined heart released him from this transfixion. His face broke, and in a sudden burst of grief, his head slowly bent down, choking on the tears that came upon him suddenly and violently.

When Cedrik saw this he closed his mouth and eyes, overcome by a sense of loss. Next to him stood Derek, who reflected his despair. After a moment they started toward their cousin, but stopped. With a sob of effort, Deacon staggered to his feet, trying to lift the limp form into his arms. The embrace with which he tried to clasp her was unsuccessful. He could not carry her. With an earnest persistence that was heart-rending to witness, he fought against his weariness, attempting to drag her, proudly choking back the tears. His expression was a piteous contrast to the helpless gesture.

"Help me!" he cried. Notes of desperation broke his voice. "Don't let her be left here." He sobbed with the excessive effort.

Cedrik and Derek looked on helplessly. He had not got far when he groaned like a goaded beast and collapsed, as if any prolonged exertion was beyond his power. On his knees, with bowed head, he clutched her against himself, her body partly supported by his encircling arms, her deathly form wan, but lovely. He drew his breath in suffocating shudders, whimpering with bitter pleas to the G.o.ds to restore her to him. He cradled her gently and clung so tenderly that for long minutes the two watching stood away.

Presently Cedrik came to stand by him, and for a moment could not speak. He laid a sympathetic hand on Deacon, and said, in a low utterance, "Save your strength. We shall return her to the earth tomorrow."

Deacon clenched his teeth but did not look up. He could have struck him down for those words. "You'll not touch her," he said, thrusting him aside. "I would sooner burn her!"

For several minutes Cedrik preserved a respectful silence, then crouched down. "Will you let me see the extent of your injury?" Cedrik attempted once to turn him, then left him there. Like some wounded animal, Deacon would not let any separate him from the death-like form to which he clung.

"Don't touch her! You'll not put her in the ground."

"You're bleeding," Cedrik pleaded.

"It's not mine, it's hers." Burying his face against her, he broke down altogether, sobbing despondent words. Cedrik arose and stood a moment at a loss. His cousin's grief moved him to tears. Soon Cedrik went away, leaving him still sitting there on the ground, bent over.

The night had set in dark and mournful. Not knowing what else to do, Cedrik started a fire. He said not a word, stricken with the same grief as Derek. They did not want to remain here but were too weary to move on. The shadowy presences, lurking in the darkness, posed no threat, but feeling their ever-present evil added to the weight of their already burdened hearts. Often their gazes went over to Deacon, but neither dared approach him. Alone and despondent with exhausted grief, he was as motionless as the form he lay beside. He had the look of a man who had been robbed of his last motive for existence. His face was set, lifeless and with resignation, as though he awaited his own death.

Lying here, he was left with the anguish of consciousness, while she was lost deep in oblivion. He continued to gaze upon the unearthly loveliness. Its mysterious appearance of life with no consciousness in it possessed him with a feeling that in this state she would endlessly endure, in this changeless unawakening repose, and he would be left alone. He could not endure the thought of his loneliness. He hid his face against her. Deep strong sobs convulsed his body.

Half the night Deacon remained in this condition of lifelessness. Every now and then his frame would shudder. This was a great relief to Cedrik, to see there was life in him still. Cedrik could not sleep, but kept close observation of his cousin.

His brother, who had unwillingly fallen into an unhappy somnolence, lay near to him. Sometime late in the night, exhaustion weighing heavily, Cedrik closed his eyes briefly. He didn't realize it, but he must have slept, if only for a few minutes, for when he opened his eyes he discovered that though Magenta remained, Deacon was gone. His cloak was draped over her, as if she was merely sleeping.

Tree of Life Tree of Life Part II Part II June 2011 June 2011 www.treeoflifethebook.com www.treeoflifethebook.com www.elitadaniels.com www.elitadaniels.com