by BJ Hanlon
Edin sensed small bits of energy, he sensed it in the trees, in the snow, in his companions. Somehow beneath him, he felt an underground water source. It was far below and the water was stagnant and freezing. There was such little energy, even his two companions.
Edin pictured it in his mind. He saw the energy flowing around him and felt the presence. Faint and sometimes seemingly unobtainable, but it was there.
Suddenly, Arianne tensed her thighs. He could feel it through her body. Edin looked up and saw her head staring off to their left.
Dorset whispered. “Hear that?”
Arianne nodded. She carefully pulled a leg out and let Edin’s head down on the hard earth. She was out of sight for a moment but he heard her soft footsteps padding away.
Dorset drew his blade.
Edin tried to turn his head to see, he tried rocking it but his muscles felt like gelatin. His eyes began hurting from trying to look to the left for so long. The pain was resting in almost the center of his nose.
He could feel his pulse racing and his palms tickling.
He could feel his palms.
Edin blinked. The tickling was growing from once every few seconds to a little more frequently. Edin tried to clench his fist but couldn’t. His hands were there, he felt them, heck, he could see them.
“Dorset. It I.” A choppy voice called from out of sight. Yechill.
Henny called. “Where is he?” The big man stumbled into view and bent over Edin picking him up like a woman does a lazy cat. The fire went out and they were jogging through the dark.
Using the stars, or what little he knew of them, Edin guessed they were heading north. The hibernating tree limbs blazed past them in almost a blur and their feet clomped on icy snow and broken branches. It’d gotten colder. They moved at a brisk pace and above him Henny’s face was as red as Berka’s hair.
They stopped often, Edin would be set down while the group rested. Edin could feel his toes after the first jaunt. His tongue could move slightly as well though he still couldn’t speak.
Dorset brewed another quick batch of the nasty tea and poured it down Edin’s throat.
“Smells like the stables,” Henny bellowed. “Or the latrines.”
Edin closed his eyes and tried to find more energy. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a fir tree, still green. Edin reached for it with his mind, he felt himself grasping with an invisible hand. Edin imagined the pinpricks as he took a limb in his palm, the bending of the needles, the stickiness of the sap. He nearly spoke to the tree as if it could reply. A glow pulsed in his mind.
Teeth chattered and suddenly, he heard a cry of pain. Edin quickly dropped it and looked up into web of tree limbs as the tingling disappeared.
Dorset appeared with hands shaking so wildly that the little tea that did get into his mouth was barely a spoon full.
“Wait on it,” Arianne said, her voice chattering. “I don’t know if we should go on tonight…”
“They could be right behind us,” Dorset argued. He spoke in Yechill’s language. “We’re only four leagues from the village.”
Did they hear that cry of pain? Edin thought. Who made it?
“Has Yechill realized we may be leading them right to his village?”
“It’s empty, save El, Berka, and her grandparents.”
“How long will we be able to stay? The city doesn’t even have walls. And what about the snow drifts? Will Henny be able to carry him through those?”
“Rest…” Edin tried to say but his voice felt more like a hiss and tasted horrible. Edin closed his eyes.
It was morning when he woke, maybe late morning and he was being carried by Henny. The movement was much slower and jerkier. Henny was taking high steps and Edin imagined deep snow below them. He tried rolling his head and found that it worked, just slightly, and he was able to look ahead of them. It was only Yechill breaking the snow in a white graveyard of trees sparse with pine and firs.
“Close?” Edin whispered, not his normal voice, a crackled version like trying to speak with a mouthful of gravel.
Henny nodded, but said nothing. Or at least Edin thought he nodded. His head kept bouncing up and down. The sun was out now, and it beat sweetly on his face.
A warm day. He imagined it was one of those early spring days where short-sleeve tunics could be worn and much of the snow melts.
He saw the open air in front of them and a gray smoke blowing slightly to the northeast and up the glacier-ridden mountains. A bit later the outskirts of the village appeared.
Henny paused, his warm breath was dancing on Edin’s face as he panted. They were back, and the fire still burned.
They reached the door to the long house and Yechill pounded. There was no answer. He pushed and the door swung open revealing the fire had burnt down to a few remaining charcoaled logs.
Berka and the family were gone.
Edin knew that right away. He left as soon as he had a chance and would make his way back to civilization. What would he do then? He’d tell the Inquisitor and Edin guessed he’d tell exactly where Edin was, and where he was headed.
Edin needed to rest, and most of all, he needed a drink. Ale would’ve been nice, whiskey better.
He could feel his arms now, though they were weak. Like babies’ arms. They were only for aesthetic reasons.
“We do not know how far back they are… but we must flee soon,” Dorset said.
“I can’t carry him anymore,” Henny nearly cried. “I can’t walk anymore… this was a bad idea.”
Edin rolled his head and looked at Arianne. “Scry…” he whispered and closed his eyes.
“It’s a good idea,” Arianne answered clearly not surprised to hear him speak.
“At least Berka left a note,” Dorset said helping to sit Edin up and lean his back against the strong wooden bench. “They headed straight east just after Henny left.”
Edin said nothing. He was tired, completely helpless. He couldn’t even grab his sword.
After a few minutes, Arianne appeared next to him. “I saw a force marching around the south of the lake… a large one.” She pressed her hand to his head. “You’re warm…”
Edin just looked up at her. Speaking was painful and took a lot of energy.
“Any sign of them closer?” Dorset asked.
“Not that I could see.”
“We rest then,” Dorset said. “We have a day at least.” Dorset repeated his words to Yechill who was curled up on the far side of the fire.
“I cannot keep carrying him.”
Dorset nodded. “I have an idea for that.”
It was dark and freezing outside but dawn was only a short time away. Edin was still unable to move, though he could feel his body again. At one point, he got a finger to twitch and rocked a foot, but that was it.
They made a sort of stretcher from one of the benches and added flexible skis to the bottom. Then they tied Edin to it. Henny pulled arm straps around his shoulders in a way reminiscent of the yokes they’d use on the farm.
They set out just as the sun rose and climbed the soft eastern slope of the col. It was slow with both Yechill braking the snow and Henny pulling. Arianne took up the rear with Edin being carried like a feeble geezer while staring back at her.
As they rose, Edin looked at the darkened huts and wondered if any human would ever look upon this quaint village again. The dematians were coming, demons that had a powerful object.
Edin remembered the boom and the vibrations in his body.
Now, they were running. Fleeing east again much like his flight from Yaultan.
The air felt clean, cold, and fresh. They crested the hill and began straight east over an open plain. The orange sun was rising casting a blinding glare on the iced mountains to the north. The plain they were crossing was a long narrow field where the tribesmen did a bit of farming.
They stopped about an hour in and switched. Then again an hour later. Each time they waited about fifteen minutes just to unhook
the makeshift straps of the sled, set Edin down and then attach it to the new person. Or mule.
The sun continued to rise and after a few hours, he began to see the forest and far beyond, the landscape that tumbled and rose for leagues. He could see vast distances of trees and mountains and flats.
They slogged along, it was a smooth and warm ride and Edin was comfortable except for the random bump. At Edin’s feet near the bottom of the sled, much of their wares had been stowed.
The group carried only their weapons on their persons.
Edin was feeling worthless, he hated not doing anything. The doldrums, that is what his mother had called it when he was excessively bored and lazy.
He slept for much of the day but there’d been little progress. Sometime near nightfall the forest had surrounded them again. Mountains grew closer to them and were nearly straight up like huge cliffs. They towered and, in some parts, the snow seemed to hang precariously above them. If those huge glaciers decided to let loose, they’d be buried beneath thousands of pounds of snow and ice.
They camped on the lee side of a tall berm. There were small blades of still-green grass poking out from a soft covering of snow like fish during the rainy season.
It was too cold not to have a fire and Dorset had brought along a homemade unending torch that they carried in case wood could not be found.
The next morning,
Edin could raise an arm, but that was the extent of his recovery. He guessed that in a fortnight, he may be able to stand. Edin hoped it’d be sooner.
Whatever it was that hit him wasn’t of this world.
The gods cursed him…
The night previous, his mind played with the thought as he laid next to Arianne. He could barely talk, the few words he said were throaty and caused pain and coughing fits.
They continued the next few days. The forest grew larger and the snow mounds grew and dropped, the dwindled to nothing then rose like a wall to block cut their progress off.
His friends looked miserable, even Yechill who’d lived in this world. They crowded together in a cleft for a couple of hours on the fourth night out from the village.
The sixth night, Edin could raise both hands and almost stand, though not for long. He’d fallen in a thick snowdrift and cold snow dust dripped down the back of his white cloak.
They were headed straight east, as far as he knew, and hopefully Yechill knew a way to bypass that swamp. Even so, what would they do then? Where would they go? Edin didn’t know the landscape out here or what was waiting for them. He still had to somehow make the fjords.
Was that even possible now? He was in what some people would call, a condition, a nice way to say he was not worth the air he breathed.
They began circling an increasing number of rocky mounds that seemed to have been thrust from the earth before them it impede progress.
Edin’s hopes of Yechill knowing what was up next were dashed when Dorset told him Yechill had never gone this far east. He’d only heard that this land was barren and wild and no man could farm it for it was under the protection of a great spirit.
Like the gods, Edin didn’t know about spirits, though if the gods were real, possibly, what else was?
They were running low on food and had to begin rationing what little they had.
Edin had forgotten what day it was when he began to hear water. It was flowing water from somewhere around them. The snow was thick and echoed somehow.
“Ice bridge…” Arianne yelled out from the rear of the group. “Careful.”
They moved slower, Henny who carried the sled the most, stepped gingerly as they crossed. The sound of the water came from below him. Edin had no idea how thick the ice was atop the river, nor how wide but by the sound, it moved swiftly beneath them.
Like a hammer taken to a piece of wood, a loud creak came from just beyond Edin’s head. Henny paused as did Arianne. Edin looked directly at her and she stared at him. Her eyes were wide and there was fear in them. If someone broke through…
Edin didn’t want to think about it. The bridge had to hold. Edin didn’t have the strength to shore up the ice with the talent.
The night before, Arianne had helped him take a pair of steps. He was like a toddler, shaky and uneasy with two bean wobbly poles extending from his hips. Edin knew how to walk, that was easy; it was just that his body wasn’t firing like it used to. Like a river being dammed up and having to pause before finding a new route.
Henny took another step.
Crack.
The sound was longer and somehow deeper as if the break was actually in Edin’s body.
He stared at Arianne. It was going to break. There was no doubt about that and Edin was helpless and standing on the precipice.
Arianne raised her hands.
“No!” Edin screamed. With a great burst of air and a tornado of snowflakes, the sled, Henny, and he went flying forward. They yelled, cried out, Henny for fear of what hit him, Edin for fear of what came next.
A moment later. The ice snapped and with a frightened gaze in her eyes. Arianne disappeared beyond the precipice.
10
Lost
In both mind and soul, he was lost. For just a moment he knew not what just happened.
Then he did.
Edin fumbled with his straps. The fingers were tingling from the ice and his paralysis. Tears sailed down his face and froze in rising globs like a wagon train stuck in a blizzard.
The stretcher had hit an escarpment hard and cracked. The bottom half snapped off and nearly tore Edin’s legs with it.
The strain had been immense but he landed somehow face up in a snowbank.
“Help… get me out…” Edin cried. He reached for the knot and began tugging. It slowly released. Edin struggled to sit up. He was at a precarious angle and sliding down the face of the sled as he groped for the knot around his legs.
Digging his fingers in, he felt nothing but fear and rage roll through him. He summoned all the strength he could. He reached down and plucked the knot.
It didn’t budge in his hand. He needed his sword. It was somewhere strapped to the sled but he knew he couldn’t lift it.
An ethereal blade? Possibly. He felt empty of the talent and of all energy. Edin was like a fire with the last log that had already turned snowy white and deep black.
He held his hand out and willed it to form in his hands. His stomach churned like boiling tar but he knew he had it.
Edin slashed at the rope splitting it and taking a chunk out of the sled. Edin tumbled down and over on the snowbank. He took a face full of the stinging and burning snow and tried to push himself up. He heard people shouting from somewhere behind him. They were calling her name and it was echoing without a response.
Edin used his arms and flapped them over tilting himself from his face to his back and sliding down a few inches until he reached flat earth.
Edin tried sitting. His energy had faded precipitously after the use of the talent, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.
Arianne needed him. She was down there somewhere in that dark and freezing river.
Edin shoved his weak arms back and pushed with all of his might. His arms wobbled and shook violently. His core muscles did nothing to help. Edin screamed as tears dropped and curses flowed from his mouth. Words he didn’t even know, incoherent wails even to him.
He sat, his arms behind him making an odd, shaky triangle with the snow. He turned to his side and flipped his left arm over his body to catch himself.
It responded and somehow it caught him. Edin pushed himself back so he was kneeling upright. His body swayed as he tried to stand.
One foot, then the other. Edin stood. He drew himself up fully and took a hesitant step forward. Then another. He saw Dorset and Yechill standing silently at the edge of a deep, unnaturally blue gap in the snow.
It was crystal blue, sapphire blue like the gem around Arianne’s neck. The tears blinded him again as he stepped forward. The world took on
a watery white hue that looked as if it were from some other universe. Some other planet maybe.
Another step, another. He wouldn’t collapse, he wouldn’t let her go there by herself. Edin was five feet from the edge and his legs failed him. He couldn’t brace himself and fell into the snow, his forehead breaching the precipice.
He pulled himself up and felt the cracked shards of ice digging into his fingertips. He screamed and kicked. Almost there.
Hands grabbed him and pulled him back.
“Let me go…” he shouted through tears, “I can…”
“She’s gone Edin…” It was Dorset and there were tears in his voice.
He saw the blue tunnel and the flowing river pouring into the blackening cavern beneath the ice. Edin was pulled backward, he was limp and unable to do anything.
In his mind, he saw glimpses of the manor and Grent pulling him away as his mother was burned alive. Kes was burned alive.
“No…” he cried and tried to fight them. If he had his strength, his talent, he could’ve gotten away from their vice grip. Instead, he was wrestled to the cold snowy ground and Dorset sat on his chest with his arms pinned.
She wasn’t dead. There was no way it was possible.
“It’s too powerful, you cannot survive like you are,” Dorset screamed at him, his voice quavering.
Edin shook trying to get Dorset to flip off him. He slammed his head back into the snow and kicked his feet.
His face felt red and his body quaked. He wouldn’t give up. Not on her, not ever. He felt like a child having a tantrum and being held down by his stronger parents. Somehow, he lost everything, all energy, all pain, all desire. Maybe it was ten minutes or an hour or ten hours he didn’t know. Tears flowed until he hadn’t anymore. Edin was weak and his face was nearly a sheet of ice. Then they brought him to the small flame.
Henny was being treated for a broken arm from the crash but at least he lived. Thank you Arianne…
The thought of that brought more pain in his head, in his gut and heart. Edin wrapped his weakened arms around his legs and buried his head in his knees. He didn’t look at any of them. It was too much. He needed a drink. Something that’d make him forget, though he’d never forget what happened and why.