“Told you,” Sean said, his eyes on the melt around him.
“We need to be ready soon. I hear the river below us. I pray I can swim it,” she said, listening to the sound of fish swimming in the deep, cold water. “The water has to cool enough for us to jump into it, but if it cools too much, the tunnel will refreeze and close. Be ready soon. Sean, you’re the best swimmer. Lead us out of here.”
The boy looked at her, grateful for her trust. Shortly afterward he jumped into the hole, and as he slid down the ice tube, the water warmed and comforted him in the eerie darkness surrounding him. He prayed some through his fear, wondering what lay below the ice, hoping he would survive.
Tom went after Sean, the fear of deep water almost overwhelming his fear of the small space in the ice tube. When he was a wee boy he’d almost drowned in the Tribon, and would have if his poppa hadn’t grabbed his suspenders and tied them tightly to the loop on his britches to haul him to shore. He could feel the smoothness of the ice, its cold, slick sides reminding him of what waited below, and he wondered if and when he should hold his breath. Finally he hit the cold water and Sean grabbed him. The river split below the ice cave, sending both of them into a deep eddy that kept them circling, unable to do anything except keep their heads above water.
Breanna was next, her hands above her head trailing fire behind her, closing off the hole in the ice, hoping it sufficient to block the way of the filthy Orbels that might follow them. The feel of warm melt followed her, the slickness of the ice tube projecting her even faster with the water from above. She found it hard to breathe inside the dark tube, covered in the warm water. Her body shot forth at a tremendous rate of speed. Suddenly everything went even blacker, and the extreme cold returned as the tube dumped her head over feet into the river, where she plummeted to its sandy bottom.
Coughing and spitting, Breanna shot to the surface, gasping for air as she broke through and began searching for the shore. As far as she could see, there was nothing but water. Around a bend she saw icy banks with tall, slick edges, and a tumultuous current as the water slammed against the caves and broke away in green foam. She tried to find a foothold to jump from the river, but there was nothing to brace against. She was cold, as cold as she had been in the ice cave, and out of breath. Her head ached from using the memory of fire, and the pain shot through her, leaving her gasping.
Mara’s gift for sight in darkness allowed Breanna to see everything as though it was light, but she found no sign of Tom and Sean, nor any way out of the deep river. Then, miraculously, a branch hanging from a large tree appeared ahead, above the plane of the water. She was moving fast toward it, and prepared herself to lunge upward as she was carried quickly by the push of the river’s current. She jumped, but her right hand missed. Even so, she grabbed on with her left hand and held. Pain filled her body as her arm and shoulder were jerked backward from the momentum of the roaring water. Breanna panicked when one of the smaller branches cracked, but she quickly grabbed higher with her right hand. Hand over hand she worked her way across the roiling current until the edge of the river’s bank was finally in reach. She found a rocky outcropping for her feet and jumped from the water to the bank several feet above her head.
Silently thanking her benefactors for getting her out of the cave and onto dry land, Breanna took a moment to reflect on the situation around her. Somewhere near was the joining of the two rivers, where the Tribon and the Iree came together. Tom and Sean had to get out before then. The currents of the two water ways would surge even more and take them far away, probably drowning both.
It was then she saw them, Tom and Sean, treading water, trying to stay on the surface after they had broken free of the circling current. Off to the side of the bank, Breanna spied a long, heavy branch from one of the trees. She grabbed it and dragged it to the river’s edge, then dropped it into the water above her two friends. She held on tightly and yelled for Sean, hoping he would see her above the river.
“Sean,” she screamed over the roar of the river, “Sean, grab on.” Dragging the branch over the water, she neared the boy, giving him time to reach before planting herself firmly on the ground. “Tom,” she yelled. “Tom, take Sean’s hand.”
Her strength is slim, but her will mighty. The ancients invoked power to the memories and waited.
The two bodies at the end of the branch were each heavier than Breanna, and either should easily have pulled her back into the river. Walking backward, she dug one foot in, and then the other, as her slender arms pulled the branch with more than her own might. Finally, her two friends’ feet touched the river’s bottom and they climbed onto the bank, surprised to be alive.
They all lay exhausted for a moment but soon jumped up, knowing they weren’t safe.
“We need to get away before they come looking for us. Tom, where should we go?” Breanna pulled herself to stand, feeling the ache in her head even more than before. The pain overwhelmed her, but her fear of being caught again took control.
“I want me cart and Sam and Paddy back. That’s where I’m going,” he said tiredly. “The ugly grumpkin is not permitted to eat my friends. But before I go, I need to show you something, lass, if you’ll take a minute for old Tom.”
“A’right, Tom, but we should hurry before they know we’re missing.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it—they want us to freeze good and proper before the nasty creatures look at us again.”
“What is it, Tom? What do you want to show me?” Breanna asked quietly.
“Well, it’s here, child, where we come out of the water and where you were standing. Would you look there?”
She stared at the green grass, toward the footprints in the hard soil, each a foot deep where her steps had taken her backward, away from the water, pulling the branch. She looked up at Tom and gave him a helpless shrug.
“I’m elven. My step is deep,” she said, glancing away from his inquiring eyes. “And before you ask about the ice, my hands are very warm.”
“Told you. Don’t ask,” Sean said from behind Tom. “I’m just glad she was here to save us.”
“Aye,” Tom replied, his eyes on Breanna. “If you ever want to tell me how you do these things, I’ll be more than willing to listen, but for now, let’s go save Paddy and Sam.”
The two oxen stood grazing close to the opening into the ice caves, near where Tom’s cart was parked. Breanna looked at Tom, who pointed at the cart then at the oxen. She supposed he meant to reconnect them and drive it away—a feat of bravery, in her opinion. After she nodded her agreement, they all moved toward it with great stealth, closer and closer, all the while listening to the sound ahead. A quick discovery told them the noise emanated from the Ice King, whose snoring would have been famous no matter where he lived. It was louder than the roar of the Tribon River.
A series of other snores and snorts mixed with the giant’s sounds; the Orbels must have been napping also. Tom led Sam to the cart, and behind him Breanna and Sean led the still chewing Paddy. After what seemed half a lifetime, the cart was ready to depart, with the two oxen eager to leave. Breanna had whispered in their ears the giant’s intentions to have them for supper, and the animals were inspired to move quickly.
The trip across the ice bridge was noisy and slippery, with Paddy and Sam sliding on the water-slicked top. To make the surface of the bridge even more slippery, Breanna melted the ice behind them as they walked. Finally, after looking backward several times, Breanna saw one of the Orbels come out of the cave and stare without comprehending that their captives had escaped. She watched as the creature ran back inside, and a moment later was followed by the king, who roared at them to stop, just as they came to the end of the bridge.
“Sure, we’ll stop,” Tom yelled, nudging the oxen to move faster.
A large group of Orbels hit the bridge and slid this way and that on their cloven hooves. Some slipped and fell directly into the water, but the rest charged forward, determined to retrieve their supper.
>
“Breanna, you’d best finish your work, child. They’ll be here with us in bit,” Tom said softly, yet firmly, without hesitation.
She gave him a deep, searching look before extending her hand toward the bridge. Calling on her mother’s gift, she issued great streams of blue-green fire, the hottest kind. Posts and beams crumbled, and the bridge floor melted and broke in great chunks that dumped into the maw of the hungry river. The ice arc disappeared, taking all the charging, non-swimming Orbels along. Into the deep water they sank, and there they stayed.
Across the bridgeless river, the giant screamed as his army was decimated by two weak humans and one Qay girl. His anger knew no bounds, and his huge stomach growled. The last they saw of the Ice King, he was pounding his huge fists against the ice caves, demanding food. It appeared to the three travelers that without the Orbels to feed him, the king would neither spin ice bridges, nor capture travelers from the river road for a long, long time.
They looked at one another and laughed for the blessed relief of being alive.
“Enough time spent here, lad and lassie,” Tom said. “’Tis good we move on.”
“A’right, let’s go,” Sean said, more hopeful now of finding his sister after being so close to losing his own life.
Breanna lay in the back of the cart, the pain in her head taking away the pleasure of winning the battle against the giant and the Orbels. Each time she used the memories, it seemed to get worse. She fell asleep as the cart bounced along the roadway, her dreams centering on her home, as the ache finally receded. In her dreams, an old elf smoking a long-handled pipe spoke to her directly.
“You are a conduit of the gifts’ power, champion. When you take them as your own, there will be no more pain.”
“Tom, why do you suppose Bree won’t tell us how she does things like building a fire with her fingers, or jumping down off a rooftop and not getting hurt, or, you know, pulling us out of the water when maybe you or me couldn’t have done the same.”
“’Tis a mystery, lad. The elfish folk have strange ways, and even though our Breanna ain’t full elf, she’s a lot like them—gentler, though, than those folks, for elves are a harsher lot, caring not much for souls such as us. I suppose her being the councilor’s kin, she may have a touch of family loyalty, keeping her secrets. We’d be doing her a favor to not ask too much, just as you said.”
Sean nodded and looked down the road. He was hungry and tired, and missing his own family. The fox sat beside him, panting after running hard to catch up with the cart.
“Do you know what the day might be? I think it’s Elida’s birthday,” Sean said unenthusiastically. “Could we make our camp soon?”
“’Tis the third day, of the third month of spring, boy. Is that the day of her birth? How many years will she be, if ’tis?”
“Nine,” Sean answered. “Still a little girl.”
“Aye, then we’ll hope for a happy day for the child. We’ve reached a good place, and no enemy on our track. We’ll build a fire to keep the beasts away and celebrate.”
“Beasts? What kind of beasts?” Sean asked, scratching Kit’s ears. “I hoped we would be safe for a while.”
“Lad, I’d say from here to the end of this journey, there’s not much in the way of safe places. Practice that bow of yours. You might be needing it afore long.”
The place where the rivers merged was spectacular, a sight so terribly powerful that Sean woke Breanna so she wouldn’t miss it. She rose off the seat of the cart and sat behind the two in front, watching the rivers as Tom, in control of the two faithful oxen, sent the cart down the road. When he reminded her of Elida’s birthday and Sean’s sadness, she hugged the boy against her and reassured him they would find his sister.
The Iree was a giant river, three times the size of the Tribon, as it joined others in a path to the sea and finally emerged leagues away in a huge loop across the Qadra and around the southwestern territory where they now traveled. Large boats carrying silks, spices, and mutton and other foodstuffs traveled up and down the waterway, some stopping along the way, while others never slowed for a moment as they headed to a faraway port. A few bright red ships with black sails went one after the other the first day, getting far downriver, leaving the cart and other road travelers far behind.
“Tom, have you ever seen so many ships?” Breanna asked, trying to understand the size of the world around her. How could so many ships have a place of destination? The breadth of the river was amazing and wonderfully fearful. Surely they would never find Elida in such a wide world. She watched the ships without tiring as the cart moved along.
“Aye, there’s plenty there, child. Ahead is a great port, but we’ll camp on this side. If you children must go into the city, disguise yourselves as one of them what live there. Little Kit must stay in your pack or in the wagon, or someone will skin it for the fur, with no ‘by your leave’ or ‘sorry for it.’ And you, lass, cover your hair, and black yourself under the eyes as a char girl. Them what follows the witch will be in and about the city, checking the ships for anyone arriving. Won’t matter if you came by cart; they’ll see you and stop you, and unless you’re ready to fight the witch, act like you don’t talk. Point to your tongue and your ears. They might be fooled, though ’twon’t be easy. Some are smart. Others are just rotten stupid. Could roll a barrel over ’em and they wouldn’t see nothing wrong. Trouble being, you don’t know which’en will be stopping you. So be ready for both.”
It was a long speech for the cart man, and both Sean and Breanna listened closely to his warnings. He seemed to know the territory, and that was a great deal more than they knew. Sean had learned his lesson about listening to the old tinker, and made certain he got every word.
Tom set up their camp in the forest to avoid being seen by the ships and small boats on the river. The passengers of those vessels might have curious questions in their pockets, and pull them for speculations later when port was reached, speculations that could sink their plans to surprise the witch. Tom suggested they go east by ship and cross the Qadra Sea, heading for the part of the world where Yahmara laid her head at night and little Elida was being held. The journey was far, far ahead, and no task for oxen and cart.
Yes, a ship is necessary, but we have no money for transport across such a great stretch of water, Breanna thought. She heard Tom reminding her that the big celebration of witches was less than a half-year away, and a child was to be sacrificed unless they could stop it. There was little doubt the child was Elida. Breanna only hoped Sean knew nothing of the witch’s plan.
The opposite of Tom’s fears occurred the first night, for all was quiet, with little to disturb their sleep. The cart had two layers: one was a high bed where Breanna slept with little Kit, while the other was the floor with pallets where Tom and Sean laid their heads, one on each end. The chamber pot sat in a closet, its door curtained since the boy and girl had arrived. Breanna had sewed the curtain during their travels, and it afforded her a little privacy once it was hung. The cart was cold, for Tom refused to use the pot-bellied heater. He had a fear of setting his home afire.
For two days they traveled the road, stopping every now and again to speak to a stranger, to ask the news of the region. They learned very little, except several new ships had docked in the harbor of Lutz, the city by the sea. When asked the fare for passengers on the ships, they were given no information, for each price was different according to the time of year and the danger of pirates on the water.
On the third day of their journey, navigating the Lutz harbor road, they saw brilliantly colored ships ready to dock, with sails lowered and flags displayed under the ship’s name. Breanna admired one ship for its size, neither too large nor too small. Above the wheelhouse, it had a blue-lettered sign that read Mede Truheart. Its edges had peeled somewhat from exposure to salt and wind, but Breanna liked that about the ship.
“Tom, we have to find a way to get on the Mede Truheart. It has a friendly look about it. Do you suppose w
e can find the coin to pay our passage?”
“Lass, I don’t see a way to do it without trickery, or fighting our way aboard, for we have nothing of value. Course, there’s the cart, and Sam and Paddy. They might bring a few coins.”
“No,” she said, “you can’t sell your home and your friends. Even so, Tom, you can’t take them on a ship, so what will you do?” Breanna hadn’t considered the difficulties involved with sea travel. Not only must they purchase passage without currency, there were the arrangements to be made for their possessions. She felt truly ignorant for her assumptions all would be well when they found the right ship.
“Aye, ’tis considerations, and hard decisions. In the meanwhile, you two stay in the wagon whilst old Tom goes to the city to take care of a bit of business.”
“What if you don’t come back?” Breanna asked.
“Do you want us to wait for you beyond a day or two?” Sean asked, for he hated to idle time away while his sister was being held captive.
“Shh, Sean,” Breanna said. “We’ll be fine, Tom. Go and take care of your business. We can keep out of the way till you return.”
“But Bree, he can’t just leave us like this,” Sean insisted as Tom walked toward the busy port. “What will we do without him if he doesn’t come back?”
“The same as we did before, Sean. You and I will get by using our wits. Now let’s get the camp set up while Tom is gone.”
Two days came and went and still Tom hadn’t returned, causing Breanna and the boy to worry for the old man’s safety. They had become comfortable with Tom, and the three of them were almost like a family. Now he was missing, and they didn’t know what to do to get him back.
The third morning Breanna rose early and dressed in her most ragged clothing, tucked her hair under her shawl, and dug some of the charred wood from the cold fire pit. She painted under her eyes as Tom had suggested, disguising herself as a workingwoman from one of the inns. After waking Sean, she told him she was going to find Tom, and he must stay and take care of their possessions, else there would be naught left to trade for passage on the ship. He was resentful about staying, but understood the necessity, for Breanna was much more equipped to defend herself among strangers.
The Gantlet Page 13