As weary and stressed as they were, the two friends shared a smile.
‘How’d the speech go?’ asked Jensen.
‘Terrible,’ replied Kelko with an anguished shudder. ‘I made a real muddle of it.’
‘But everyone cheered. We heard it all, even from inside the Jade Tower.’
‘Yeah, they did.’ Kelko paused to look down at his big stomach. ‘I’m still not sure why. I’m no hero and I’m definitely not a general.’
‘Well, ya might not have much experience in the general department,’ admitted Jensen, ‘but I think ya do OK in the hero department.’
Kelko the Fat Oak
Kelko blushed. Keen to change the subject, he asked, ‘So wot do ya have for me? Yer message was quite mysterious.’
‘I’ve got a little something ta show ya.’
‘It’s not yer Moreish powder, is it?’
‘I’m happy ta say it’s something even better than that. Come on, let’s take a little mosey.’
Intrigued, Kelko followed his friend deeper into the Jade Tower, down several flights of stairs and into a small storeroom. The room was bare other than a cloth-covered table.
‘I’ve been bemoaning the loss of me Thornsword,’ said Jensen. ‘And with times being wot they are I asked the footmen to scour the tower in the hope that they’d find me some Thornwood so I could shape meself a new blade.’
‘And did they find any?’
‘No,’ admitted Jensen. ‘But they found some of dis.’
He whipped the cloth away from the table to reveal –
‘Bramblewood!’ breathed Kelko in awe.
‘Aye,’ said Jensen. ‘Bramblewood. Two spans of it.’
The Tremen paused to appreciate the two lengths of timber upon the table. The wood was a deep dark green that was only a few shades away from being black. Gnarly-looking purple thorns rose from the wood with the jaggedness of shark’s teeth. Bizarrely, when Kelko carefully threaded his thumb between the large thorns to stroke the wood, it released a strong scent of chilli and lime.
‘There’s enough here for –’ began Kelko.
‘Yes,’ said Jensen, finishing his friend’s sentence, ‘enough for a Bramblesword and a Brambleaxe.’
‘What?’ said Marsila in astonishment. She stared at the Winged Mount in confusion. ‘How? It doesn’t look anything like a tail!’
‘I know,’ admitted Charlie. ‘But I’ve been staring at it all day and something about the shape of it kept nibbling at my mind. Here, look at this –’ she squeezed her hands together and interlocked her fingers – ‘my hands don’t look like anything, do they? But when you look down at my shadow a bunny rabbit appears.’
The two Keepers looked from Charlie’s hands to the shadow on the ground.
‘That doesn’t look like any rabbit I’ve seen before,’ said E’Jaaz.
Nibbler cocked his head to the side to better study the results. ‘Maybe rabbit after it’s been chopped up and thrown in the cook pot?’
Charlie resisted the impulse to groan. ‘All right, so I’m not any good at shadow puppets! But do you get my point? An object might look like one thing but can still have a shadow that looks like something else entirely.’
Finding some sense in Charlie’s muddled explanation, Marsila let her previous irritability dissolve in a long sigh. She turned to study the mountain, willing to give this new idea some consideration. After a pause (and ignoring the continued dogfight between Nibbler and the Stowyrms) she added, ‘I understand the principle but I still don’t see it. I don’t think that a mountain shaped like that could cast the shadow of a serpent.’
‘I think it only works at midday,’ said Charlie, ‘when the sun is directly overhead.’
Marsila and E’Jaaz pondered this some more.
‘All right,’ said Marsila, conceding the point, ‘it’s worth checking out. Any thoughts, people?’
‘Hang on,’ said E’Jaaz. ‘Charlie, how did this idea come to you?’
‘Er … perspective,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I kept thinking about that line with the missing words on the pendant.’
‘From Wings on high seeking something something?’ queried E’Jaaz.
‘Yes, that bit,’ said Charlie. ‘I was trying to think about it from a Winged One’s point of view. It must have said “From Wings on high seeking prey running below”, or maybe “seeking prey scampering beneath”, or something like that. I mean, if all the Winged Ones are like Nibbler, then they like their food … a lot. And big flying predators must be used to looking down when searching for prey. Which got me to thinking that maybe that’s what the pendant was hinting at. That we should look for the Serpent’s Tail as a Winged One would when flying. So I tried to imagine how things might look from up in the air.’
‘Huh,’ muttered Nibbler, ‘now why didn’t I think of that? Charlie, you’re all kinds of awesome.’
A grin of admiration appeared on E’Jaaz’s face. ‘Thinking from different angles even while we’ve spent the day fighting from one temple to the next? Well done, Charlie, you’ll make a better Keeper than me, that’s for sure.’
Marsila snorted. ‘Even a goatherd could make a better Keeper than you.’ Realizing how that sounded, she added, ‘Not to take anything away from you, Charlie. Well done indeed. You’ve proved yourself time and time again so let it be said that I’m glad to have you by my side today.’
‘Thanks,’ said Charlie with a big smile. A compliment from this tough lady meant a lot.
‘Anyway, enough of these sweet nothings,’ added Marsila. ‘Let’s focus on the problem at hand.’
They all studied the Winged Mount.
‘I think we’re just going to have to travel up there and take a look for ourselves,’ said Marsila after a moment of contemplation.
‘Um … I know I’m still new to our profession,’ said Charlie, ‘but couldn’t we just open a Portal over the mountain and move it around until we find what we’re looking for?’
‘Nice idea but it wouldn’t work,’ said E’Jaaz. ‘At least, not today.’
‘Why not?’
‘We’re too tired, Charlie. It’s one thing holding a Portal open long enough to jump through but you’re talking about holding one open for minutes, maybe tens of minutes.’
‘We held one open long enough for the army of gargorillas to travel through.’
‘That we did, Charlie, and it was awesome! But that was when we were fresh. Look at us now: we’re all fatigued and the bags beneath your eyes look like they’re big enough for a travelling salesman to store his wares in. If we do what Marsila suggests we only have to hold a Portal for a couple of seconds each way. It’s a more efficient use of our energy.’
‘So are we agreed?’ asked Marsila.
‘Aye.’
‘Yes.’
‘Good,’ said Marsila. ‘Then let’s get on with it.’
24
The Serpent’s Tail
‘Just keep them as far away from the Winged Mount as you can,’ said E’Jaaz.
‘No problem,’ said Nibbler. But instead of flying off he hesitated. ‘Er, is there any chance of some food? All this lightning and acrobatics is giving me an appetite.’
Right on cue, his stomach rumbled.
E’Jaaz rummaged through his pockets and pulled out some strips of jerky. Nibbler gobbled them up, then looked wistfully at his other pockets.
‘Hatchling, you certainly live up to your nickname,’ chuckled E’Jaaz. ‘Do your part of this task and we’ll see about plugging that hole in your belly later.’
‘Steak would be good, or roast haunch,’ suggested Nibbler.
‘We’re in the middle of the wilderness,’ said E’Jaaz.
‘OK, rabbit, then.’
‘What? You cheeky monkey! Do you really think I’ve got time to catch you rabbit while all of this is going on?’ E’Jaaz shook his head from side to side. ‘If you’re that hungry you can catch your dinner yourself.’
Nibbler’s stomach growled
again. ‘I can’t help being hungry,’ he protested. ‘It’s these growing pains.’
‘I know who else is becoming a growing pain,’ muttered E’Jaaz and wriggled his eyebrows but his mischievous words went right over the young dragon’s head. ‘I tell you what, you keep the Delightful Brothers distracted and I’ll see what I can rummage up later. Deal?’
Realizing he wasn’t going to find a better offer this side of Sylvaris, Nibbler pounced on it. ‘Deal!’ Grinning at some internal fantasy image of roast venison and barbecued quail, he spread his wings. ‘See you later, Charlie!’
They watched him take to the air.
‘Our turn,’ said Marsila. ‘Grab your Will and Triad up.’
The three of them turned to face the Winged Mount. Strange and wonderful, the beautiful mountain pulled the eye with a beguiling gravity. Behind it, the sun rose high in the sky but had yet to reach its zenith.
Marsila peeled open a Portal and together they jumped through.
The wind hit them first in a billowing non-stop gust that was stronger and fresher and certainly more cutting than any seaside breeze.
The cold came next. The frigid, near sub-zero conditions came as a shock to their systems after the warmth of the rocky land below.
Last to surprise them was the air itself, which was thin and lacking in oxygen. They quickly found themselves gasping and panting.
‘We can’t risk staying up here too long,’ said Marsila. ‘Altitude sickness will be a real concern. Charlie, if you start to feel too lightheaded tell me and we will return.’
Charlie didn’t feel lightheaded; what she did feel was the onset of a crushing headache. However, there was at least some good news: the cold and rushing wind had swept away the worst effects of her fatigue. Smiling, she nodded to show she understood, then pointed at E’Jaaz in shock.
Blood was dripping from his nose.
Seeing them stare, he wiped his face, then studied his red fingers with a remarkable lack of surprise. He shrugged. ‘It happens when I don’t get a chance to acclimatize. Still, if I pass out, Marsila, you will give me the kiss of life, won’t you?’
‘Idiot,’ said Marsila. ‘If you didn’t get a dance from me in Sylvaris what do you think the chances are of me giving you any sort of kiss? Now stop blathering and let’s go take a look at this shadow.’
The Portal had delivered them so that they were facing the mountain’s peak. Someone had made a cairn of rounded stones to mark the summit and tied to this were old flags that flapped endlessly in the wind. As Charlie turned to look the other way, a little ‘Oh’ of wonder escaped her lips. Even E’Jaaz and Marsila, well travelled as they were, found themselves smiling in delight.
The view was breathtaking.
The land, rumpled and creased like a blanket, stretched as far as the eye could see. The yellows, browns and reds of the countryside surrounding the Winged Mount merged on one side with the greens and greys of distant grasslands while in the other direction they ebbed into a land that glittered and sparkled most peculiarly in the sunlight.
‘What’s that?’ asked Charlie, pointing at the strange new land off to her right.
‘The Chiming Ground,’ said Marsila.
‘The Chiming Ground?’ Charlie whispered the words to herself in an effort to get used to its name. ‘Why does it glimmer like that?’
She thought she might get a mundane answer, perhaps something along the lines of salt reflecting the light, or perhaps that it was trapped moisture refracting the sun’s rays, but what she really hoped to hear was that it would be something fantastical. Something that would reflect the wonder of Bellania.
She was not disappointed.
‘You’ve seen the stone trees and crystal flowers of the Stomen?’ asked Marsila.
Charlie nodded. She had indeed seen gorgeous rock gardens when she travelled with Crumble Shard through the lands beneath the Slumbering Hills.
‘Well, the Chiming Ground,’ continued Marsila, ‘was once thought to be a dull, featureless plain. It is said that the great Stoman poets of old were displeased with its lack of grace. And so, determined to change that and create a land of beauty, they and their lineage spent the next hundred years singing and calling forth forests of stone trees and great swathes of crystal flowers until they were able to flourish and reproduce by itself. What we can see from up here is merely a faint glimmer of what it’s really like. When you’re actually there and walking beneath the stone boughs of Shima Trees and between the petals of Weeping Herald Plants the majesty of the place hits you. Charlie, you would not believe the sights! There are bushes with leaves of blue crystal, ferns made from moonstone, orchids spun from maw-sit-sit and flytraps crafted from obsidian. And when it rains the droplets of water chime against this amazing forest, causing the whole landscape to sing. Of course, you won’t get a Treman to admit that there is any place more beautiful than Deepforest, but before the rise of Bane the Chiming Ground used to be one of my most treasured travel destinations. Now it’s no longer safe to visit.’
‘Why not?’ asked Charlie.
‘It is where Bane breeds his Shades.’
‘What?’ Charlie spluttered. She couldn’t imagine Shades growing in a place full of crystal and light. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘Of course it does,’ said Marsila. ‘What better place for darkness and terror to be born than in a place of beauty and light? Besides,’ she added with a grim look, ‘I think that marring a place of wonder with a dark blight suits Bane’s twisted way of thinking. Either that or he decided to ruin the place I love the most as a personal slight. He seems to really dislike Keepers so I wouldn’t put that past him. He’s a miserable excuse for a man and the sooner we rid Bellania of his curse the better. And to that end let us pursue our purpose in coming to this peak.’
She pointed towards a perilous gap in the peak which would provide them with a suitable vantage point. She strode forward, then scrambled the last few metres on her hands and knees until her head was literally hanging over the side of the drop. Grabbing hold of their courage, Charlie and E’Jaaz squirmed their way forward to join the fearless lady.
Charlie gulped. Looking down from this angle was very challenging.
‘There’s our shadow,’ said Marsila and pointed.
The Winged Mount was an unusually shaped peak but its shadow was even more so. The Keepers studied it with interest.
‘Well,’ said Charlie after some thought, ‘it does have an odd trunk that could be a tail and that blob at the end could be the pointy bit of the tail … but you really have to want to see it.’
‘And you have to squint a bit too,’ admitted E’Jaaz, who cranked his head from side to side to better make out the shape.
But Marsila did not want to play along. Fuelled by her need to save Sylvaris, consumed by her duty as a Keeper and weighed down with the knowledge that time was ever passing by, she scowled and gripped the ground with white-knuckled hands.
‘Squint?’ she growled. ‘Want to see it? We can’t waste time with this – we dare not!’
She was in the process of pushing herself upright when E’Jaaz rested a hand between her shoulder blades.
‘Wait,’ he urged. ‘I still think this idea has merit. Let us wait a moment longer.’
‘Wait?’ said Marsila. ‘Wait for what? No matter how long we wait that shadow is not going to miraculously transform into a tail. It’s not going to –’
‘Hold on, Marsila.’ He pointed up to the glowing orb of the sun. ‘It’s not yet midday. I think it would be worth our while to wait until then.’
Marsila narrowed her eyes.
E’Jaaz felt compelled to defend his reasoning. ‘As the sun travels, the shadow will move – perhaps it’ll change a bit. And besides, you and I both know how much the Winged Ones like to be symbolic.’
‘S-s-symbolic?’ stuttered Charlie, so cold now that her teeth were chattering.
‘They like symbolic measurements: half moons, full moons, eclipses, equino
xes. All that good stuff. So hanging on until midday when the sun reaches its zenith might be prudent.’
‘How long is that going to be, E’Jaaz?’
He glanced up at the sky. ‘Half an hour?’
Marsila didn’t look pleased at the notion of sitting still for so long but she relented and instead of complaining she pulled one of her knives from its sheath and started sharpening it.
And so they waited. They spent the time admiring the magnificent landscape, trying to name the spires of distant cities and commentating on Nibbler’s antics as he continued to harass the Stowyrms with occasional forks of lightning and outrageous aerial manoeuvres. Every now and then they would get to their feet and jog on the spot in an attempt to warm themselves and all the while they were keeping an eye on the shadow.
Slowly, painfully slowly, the shadow began to move in an arc, tracing its way from west to east like the action of a sundial. As the shadow moved it crept across the folds of the land, drenching all that it covered in cool shade. But for all its slow movement, its shape did not noticeably change. As it grew closer to midday E’Jaaz continued to check the sun’s position in the hope that they’d got something wrong, but it seemed that they hadn’t.
Charlie had a sinking feeling in her gut. She had been so sure she was right. She had really thought this was going to be it, that the Serpent’s Tail would be revealed and they could finally release the Winged Ones and that everything would work out.
‘Should have known better,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Fairy tales are for suckers.’
The wind lifted her bitter words and what should have remained private ended up reaching Marsila’s ears.
‘You’re right, Charlie. Fairy tales are for suckers. The world is a tough place, and if you want to succeed in something you have to work hard to make it happen. But you are a worker, you’re determined and you always do your best. So maybe your hunch was wrong this time but you tried your hardest and, more importantly, you tried to look at the problem from a different angle and for that I salute you.’
Charlie blinked. She had not expected such words of kindness from a lady who chose to wear warpaint and who gnashed her teeth at the slightest delay. For the first time in her life Charlie was struck by the rather adult concept that people could have hidden depths and that beneath Marsila’s tough exterior there were other layers of her personality just waiting to be discovered.
Blood and Fire (Book 3) Page 11