by David Bokman
“Oh, for the Gods’ sakes,” muttered Cad. “Nobody is jumping into any damn rifts, okay?”
“So what, then? Apart from the dormant rift, we’ve barely made any progress at all, and I don’t think any of us are keen on staying up here any longer. So do you suggest we just go back to Stonehand and tell him we couldn’t figure it out, Cadwell?”
The big man was momentarily taken aback by Samson’s outburst. “Of course not. But I’d rather die from hanging than from jumping—”
“I think Na is right.”
“There we go, thank you, Mae!”
“Okay, stop, all of you,” said Cad. “Remind me what our mission is again. Precisely what it is.”
“To figure out a way to close the rifts?”
“Exactly. And how will we achieve that by jumping into one?”
“I’m still not sure I want to close them, though,” said Na. “And neither is—”
“I think we should close them,” said Mae, before Na had a chance to finish.
“We can discuss that later, but maybe this ‘leap of faith’ is the last clue we need to figure out how to do just that! And it’s sort of the only lead we have left, isn’t it?”
Cadwell gave a defeated sigh. “What the hell, it’s only our lives we’re gambling with, and I seem to be outnumbered. Fine, let’s go find a damn rift.”
As they ascended from the tunnels the heralds were met by a fleeting sun. They would have perhaps a few hours of travel before darkness set, which would make the cold unbearable. “Unless we find a new rift along the way, the rift we met Oso and his friends at is probably our best bet,” suggested Na. “But that’s still a few days away at best.” Florianna did not know if it was her imagination, but it felt like every day became clearly colder up here in the north. What is it like in the winter? Does it ever stop getting colder? She decided she did not wish to know the answer to those questions.
“If we make camp here, where we camped earlier, we at least have some protection against the northern winds,” said Cad, not being too keen on conducting any more travel today.
“Not freezing to death would be good, yes,” Sam agreed. “So, make camp now, travel south at first light tomorrow?”
“Or maybe at second light? It’s terribly cold in the morning, too.”
Cadwell was not sure when first light ended and second light began, but by the time they finally packed up camp in the morning, he judged the sun must have already passed third light. Today, thankfully, seemed to be a warm day, at least by the north’s standards. And it had better stay that way if we’re to make any ground, thought Cad. Although, given what our goal is, perhaps it would be preferable not to make any ground at all. Regardless, their task had been decided, and Cadwell was not going to be the one to back out. If it was one thing the military taught me, it was to follow orders you disagree with. In any case, travelling south was a welcome feeling, and made the journey feel far more bearable. And we better get back south quickly. I haven’t had this big a beard since my military days, and I haven’t missed it. Cadwell missed having a horse, though. I’m too old to travel on foot. I’m too old for most things, truth be told.
“Where do you think Jaio is now?” Na asked after a while on the road.
“Maybe not too far away from us, actually. He said he was going far north, and we’re far north too, aren’t we?” Na was not sure if Sam was saying it because he believed it or to make her happy.
“If he took a ship north, he’s likely far more north than we are. Or perhaps he lied and has gone south. Or perhaps he’s dead.”
“I don’t think he’s dead. He can take care of himself.”
“Doesn’t do us any good worrying about that traitor, anyway. Dead, alive, north, south, makes no difference.”
“I’m surprised you two didn’t get along better, then,” said Sam. “Both of you being branded as traitors, I mean.”
“Careful, Aeni.”
Most of the day passed in silence. It was a rare feeling to know that if you yourself did not speak, the entire vicinity would be shrouded in silence. A feeling all the heralds seemed set on utilizing while they still could.
The heralds’ endeavour south would be a calm one until the sun reached its highest point on the second day, at which point Mae judged they had covered at least half of the distance to the rift. Samson had started complaining about feeling uneasy a few hours prior, saying that he feared they were not alone. Not even his superior vision could help him prove his point, though, so he had eventually conceded.
Now, a few hours later, it seemed his fears may have been warranted. This time, though, it was not Oso or Ark or Bol skulking in the shadows. No, the creatures that were tracking them today did not need shadows to hide in, for their icy, spiky fur was the same color as the cold snow and ice. To add to the heralds’ troubles, this time it was not two ice wolves they encountered, but four. These ones were close and did not seem nearly as uninterested as the last time. By the time Samson finally spotted them, they were already within two hundred feet, and although the young Aeni had never seen an ice wolf running, he thought it safe to assume that they were faster than he was. “We’ve got company.” He drew his dirk.
Cadwell, seeing Sam draw his weapon, quickly drew his own, even though he had not yet seen or heard the wolves. The Dart reached to grab her daggers, but in the same instance as she thought about arming herself, the blade of Undying Ice manifested itself in her hand once more, and she found herself gripping it almost instinctively, as if it was a blade she had used a hundred times.
“Mae?” shouted Na. “How do we fight these things?”
“Don’t get bit!” The Dart was not sure if it was her own thoughts or if she was somehow influenced by the blade’s magic, but she somehow felt more confident with the ice sword than with her daggers. She picked up a dagger with her weak hand anyway, just in case.
The most fearsome trait of the ice wolf was not its spiky fur or deadly claws, but its sharp intellect. While a normal wolf could pride itself with a clearer mind than most animals, the ice wolf stood head and shoulders above even its cousin. It would not require an especially smart animal to understand that its prey was going to put up a fight, though. Upon realizing that the heralds had spotted them, the wolves quickly converged, as if they were a single entity. Running next to each other, the four predators seemed to have tunnel-visioned entirely on The Dart, their closest prey. She did not fancy her chances against four of them at once. Born in the north, dead in the north, she thought to herself. It seems they were right. Nobody truly escapes this place. She stood her ground, mostly because she would rather go down fighting than fleeing. Let’s hope it’s quick. I’ve seen what ice wolves can do to people. The beasts were no more than thirty feet away now, sprinting across the snowy ground, light on their feet. The Dart stood firm on the road, although she could barely feel the rock beneath all the snow.
Fifteen feet now, and closing. She shifted her weight from left to right in anticipation. Ten feet. She tensed her muscles, bracing for the inevitable pain. Five feet. The wolves leapt towards her in unison, and, without intending to, The Dart swung the sword of Undying Ice with more strength than she knew she had, cleaving the first wolf clean in two while simultaneously deflecting the teeth and claws of the second one. The ice blade felt sharper and more precise than any steel The Dart had ever used, and she could only imagine the additional damage it inflicted due to its coldness. The other two wolves managed to strike glancing blows, but it was nothing that posed mortal danger to her just yet. The sword, after having struck the first wolf, now seemed to emanate an even stronger blue glow, as if the ice was being fueled by the bloodshed. The remaining three wolves seemed to notice it too, and it gave them momentary pause. They likely recognized the ice, given that they roamed much of the northern lands, but they had probably never seen it behave in this fashion before. Most surprised of all, though, was The Dart. I didn’t mean to do that. That wasn’t me.
This brie
f respite from the attack allowed both Cad and Sam to get into position, and there were now three of them against three of the wolves, with Florianna standing by, waiting for her moment. Instead of mounting another charge the wolves began pacing around the group, trying to find a weak link to strike at, always keeping a watchful eye on The Dart’s ice sword. The Dart, starting to realize the power of the weapon she wielded, dropped the knife and grabbed the sword with both hands, wielding it as one would wield a broadsword or a great battleaxe. One of the wolves tried a quick lunge at Samson. He brought his dirk up to defend against the wolf’s teeth, but did not have the time nor the tools to protect himself against the claws. They struck him in his side, bringing him down to a knee before Cadwell forced the wolf back with a swing from his broadsword.
The second wolf tried its luck against Cadwell, seeing that he was busy dealing with the first one. The Dart, with a move that would have angered every military commander in the nation, broke the formation and took a step forward. With a methodical strike she pierced the wolf’s resilient fur as if she was cutting through cake. The third wolf saw her friend’s death as an opportunity to strike, as The Dart’s back was now fully exposed. The wolf, which was the biggest of the four, her claws a good inch or two longer than the others’, slashed towards The Dart’s back, and…
Missed. Right when contact should have been made, a small, concentrated gust of wind hit the she-wolf, pushing her a few feet away in the middle of her strike. At the origin of the gust stood Na, her hands extended, sweat dripping from her brow. Not as good as The Atlas, but it’ll do.
With the first of the two remaining wolves repelled by Cadwell, and the second pushed away by Na, the battle once more reached a moment of tranquility. The two wolves looked at each other, then at their fallen comrades, then at The Dart’s shining blue sword of Undying Ice. It did not take them long to form a unanimous decision. They fled, seeking less aggressive prey.
“Everyone alright?” Cadwell, as had become his custom over the years, had buried the blade of his sword in the ground, resting some of his weight against it.
“I’m fine!” said Na, sitting down to collect herself.
Mae gave a nod but was probably less fine than she was letting on. Her sword of Undying Ice had disappeared, as if it knew it was no longer needed.
Samson did not respond. He was sitting down, holding a piece of cloth against his side, squirming.
“Sam?”
“Yeah I’ll… I’ll live.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as the others.
Cadwell nodded. “Probably. Let me take a look at it, though.” The old man walked up to his colleague and pulled his hand away. Not great, he thought upon seeing what was hiding beneath the cloth. The ice wolf had gotten a clean swipe at Sam, and he had four slash marks, one for each claw, adorning the side of his torso. He’s not going to enjoy it, but he should survive.
“How does it look?”
“Right now, it looks like shit. In a year, it’s going to look like four battle-scars. You’ll get to experience the joy of wound-healing in cold temperatures first, though.”
“Is it worse in the cold?”
Cad shrugged. “I don’t know about worse, but it takes a damn eternity. You have a shirt or something that you’re not using?”
Sam pointed to his smaller backpack, in which Cadwell found a suitable shirt, and tied it around the wound as best as he could. “It won’t help much with the pain, but it’ll give the wound some protection, stop it from getting infected. It should also stop you from bleeding out.”
“Should?”
“Well, you aeni have less blood to spare, don’t you?”
Mae, realizing her wound would not tend to itself, and keen not to have Cadwell rummaging through her belongings, ripped a piece of fabric from one of her stashed shirts and began tying it around her wounds. Although she had only suffered two small glancing blows - one to each side - she still knew they would cause her grief for the better part of a week. “Will they be back?” asked Na.
“I don’t know, let’s go and ask them, shall we?”
“I think we’re safe for a while,” said Cad. “If they act like the predators I know, they'll at least gather some reinforcements before striking again. They’re not too different from us humans in that regard.”
“How about we make sure we’re long gone by then?” Sam suggested.
“Yeah. As soon as you and Mae are ready to move, we continue south.”
The heralds did not cover much ground before nightfall. Although the ice wolves had only slowed them down momentarily, the injuries would slow them down for the remainder of the journey, but thankfully neither Sam nor Mae seemed to be getting worse, at least not yet. Cadwell’s guess seemed good too; no ice wolves bothered them for the rest of the day, and by nightfall, they were close enough to Vestrok that the risk of wild ice wolves was so low that even Sam could sleep relatively easily. How in the world did the northerners manage to tame those beasts? he wondered, before drifting off to sleep. I wouldn’t ever dream of petting one, let alone riding one, befriending one. How many northerners have been eaten trying to domesticate these wolves? Then again, perhaps Cad had only been playing tricks when he had said there were those who rode the beasts. Wouldn’t be out of character for the old man to play me for a fool.
Mae was the first to rise the following morning. She had not gotten much sleep, for she had been occupied on two fronts. Her body had been dealing with her wounds, while her mind had been dealing with The Atlas’ words, twisting and turning them around in her head. Whichever way she turned them, they gave her the same conclusion. My quest has been a pointless one. I have been searching for a way back for so long, and when I finally think I’ve found it, I find out my destination is not worth going back to. I find out that the last… however many years it has been, they have all been a waste of time. So what do I do instead?
It was around midday when Florianna realized what had been bugging her since she woke up. She had not quite been able to put her finger on it, but something had been feeling wrong for a while. It’s the rifts. There aren’t any here. It seemed during their travels that the rifts had begun appearing more and more often, but here in the north, that was not the case. Or perhaps we’ve just missed them all. In any case, apart from the rift they were now heading to, they had not seen a single rift, dormant or active, north of Vestrok. Even though we’ve travelled for what, a week? Perhaps, if Mae’s theory was right, there had not been a lot of battles fought in the north, and so not a lot of places for rifts to open. Or perhaps Mae was wrong, and there was another reason for the scarcity. Or perhaps there was no reason at all. Whatever it was, Na was excited about the prospect of visiting a rift again. There’s still so much about them left to explore, to understand. It almost made her angry at Sam and Mae. If you had been more careful we could have been travelling faster. We could have already been there by now. We have no time to lose now that we are this close. Mae reassured her they were only a day away, but Na was still not fully content.
On the fourth day after they left The Atlas, the group finally spotted the rift. Were it not for the fact that it lay next to the road, finding it would have been almost impossible; out here, everything looked the same. It was late afternoon by the time they reached it, so thankfully they were alone, though they had no doubt that many inhabitants of Vestrok had seen and investigated the rift by now. So long as they haven’t figured out a way to close it, it makes no difference, Na thought, her excitement rekindled. Luckily, it appeared such knowledge was beyond what the people of Vestrok possessed, as the rift still looked as active as when they had come across it a week ago. Mae quickly noted a difference, though.
“They have hacked at the edges.”
“What?”
She walked to the edge of the rift, crouched down, and pointed. “With pickaxes, looks like. They’ve made the hole bigger, probably to see if the rift would expand with it.” She paused for a moment. “Why
haven’t we thought of that?”
“Did it work?” asked Na.
“What?”
“Did they manage to expand the rift?”
Mae took a closer look. It looked like the edge had been increased by an inch, although it did not run any deeper than half a foot. “No, the piece they cut out doesn’t look to be glowing. Just means there’s a small indent here at the edge. Might be because they couldn’t hack it down as far as the rift goes, or, more likely, because the rift doesn’t work like that.”
“If you don’t understand it, hack at it with a pickaxe and hope it dies. If it doesn’t die, leave it alone. Solid approach.”
“You’d fit in well here in the north, Cad.”
Cadwell grunted inconclusively.
“So…” Sam walked up next to Mae. “What now? We just jump into the purple void, and hope it doesn’t eat us alive?”
“What we’re assuming is that if you fall into the rift, you die, but if you purposefully walk into it, if you take a ‘leap of faith’, you don’t die?” Florianna could not help but realize the ridiculousness of her words.
“Something like that.”
“This is stupid,” said Cad, looking down into the gaping abyss below.
None disagreed.
“So, are we sure about this?” asked Sam.
Na gave an enthusiastic nod, trying to mask her fear.
“I guess,” said Mae.
“Not at all,” said Cad.
Samson, for the first time in a long while, found himself laughing. “Brilliant. Well then, shall we?”
⧫ CHAPTER XXVIII ⧫
Na, predictably, was the first one to take the leap of faith. After standing with half her feet across the edge of the rift for the better part of a minute, she finally gathered enough courage to make the jump, plunging into the rift. Samson shrugged. “No turning back now.” He took a small run-up and leapt into the rift, following his friend.