“I know,” he whispered. “I know, but we can’t stop. Even if we turn back…”
“We’re going to stop and rest for a few moments,” she said, her tone halting any argument. She swung her pack off her shoulder and followed it to the ground. She dug through until she found the medical supplies Trista had packed away. She’d hoped they wouldn’t need them, but she was glad they were there all the same. She gently cleaned the wounds as best she could, then slathered them with a foul smelling green paste. A clean cloth was wrapped around his hand, and she tied it gently so she wouldn’t hurt him. Part of her understood the futility of what she was doing. Without proper treatment, it would be hours or days before he succumbed to the venom.
They set a far slower pace as they continued their trek through the woods. Progress slowed as the ground became rocky and uneven, gently sloping upwards. They wobbled over the unsteady terrain, each step becoming more precarious than the last.
Towards the evening, hunger settled in and refused to go away. Her stomach had become a roiling pit of acid, and the pain and discomfort of it was impossible to ignore. As the forest had thinned, she’d seen nothing they could eat, at least not that she could recognize. The light faded quickly and as night overtook them, they chose the only flat spot they could find and settled in for a restless night.
Garild began to shiver not long after they’d stopped, his teeth clicking together as he huddled under his blanket. Kirheen draped her blanket over him, but he still continued to tremble. She stayed by his side throughout the night, unable to sleep with the fear of losing him plaguing her thoughts. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, and she brushed it out of his face gently. She woke him once to drink and he downed his water greedily, barely mindful of how little they had left.
The morning light roused Kirheen from an unintentional slumber, and she woke with a start. Garild slept soundly, his forehead no longer slick with sweat. She breathed a sigh of relief, then bent forward to inspect his hand, gently unwrapping the bandages so she could take a closer look. His fingers were still swollen and the skin around the two holes was starting to take on a worrisome ashen tone.
His eyes opened as she was slathering more salve over the wounds. He patted around the blanket with his good hand, searching frantically for something. “Water,” he managed to croak. She finished bandaging his hand and handed him his jug of water, fearing the emptiness of it. There were only one or two small sips of water left, and no sign of a water source nearby. Allseer help us…
Kirheen packed and helped Garild to his feet, and he leaned on her heavily for support. “I’m sorry. I’m really lightheaded.”
“It’s okay, Garild,” Kirheen reassured him. “I’ll help you walk, okay? Just stay close.”
Whatever fight had been left in him had fled during the night. He struggled with his pack for a moment and then they were heading up a slope of sparse trees and rocks. Even with her help, his steps were slow and unsteady. By midday, he was putting so much weight on her shoulder she had to stop.
“Let’s rest here,” she suggested, and helped him to the ground. He sank back against a boulder, clutching his wounded hand to his chest. His forehead was covered in beads of sweat, and his breathing was abnormal, each intake of breath too long and ragged. He raised his head, his gaze seeking hers. He was quiet for a time, fighting some inner battle with himself, his eyes filled with pain and fear. “I don’t think I can go on much further,” he said quietly.
She already knew he couldn’t make it, knew that he was suffering with each step, but hearing him say the words brought tears to her eyes. She nodded her head, unable to speak through the lump in her throat, and turned away until she’d recovered. He didn’t need her sadness and fear, not at such a crucial moment. “I’ll carry your pack. Let’s just try to make it a little bit further, okay?”
He nodded his head slowly, his eyes sinking to the ground. “I’ll try.”
Kirheen hoisted a pack over each shoulder and helped Garild get back to his feet, struggling to find a way to balance him and their meager belongings. Their progress was painfully slow, but they managed to hobble through the day. The ground was treacherous, covered in loose rocks that rolled beneath their feet, nearly sending them sprawling to the ground on more than one occasion.
As the light of day began to fade, Garild took a sudden and intense turn for the worst. He was mid-step when he lurched to a stop and turned himself away from her, heaving what little remained in his stomach onto the rocky ground. His breath came in rapid gasps and he dry heaved several times before he was able to settle onto the ground. Kirheen knelt down next to him and wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of her robe.
“I can’t go on,” he cried, leaning into her shoulder. “Kirheen. I can’t.”
“Just a little further,” she coaxed, hoisting his arm over her shoulder and pulling him to his feet. The weight of him was a familiar and reassuring burden, one she was not ready to be without. “Please, just a little further.”
Hope was a dying ember within her chest, and she knew that his time was coming to an end. She wouldn’t be far behind, her body withered by thirst and hunger. She’d join him then, bonded in death as they had been in life.
The sky was streaked in orange and yellow clouds, a view that might have been beautiful if not for the grief she felt. Trees were few and far between, and she was finally able to see their surroundings clearly. A craggy mountain rose high overhead, and the only visible path leading up was a steep incline lined with boulders of varying sizes. The sight sent that last ember of hope flickering into darkness. Even without Garild, Kirheen had so little left in her. There was no way she’d make it over the mountain.
They managed a few more steps before Garild stumbled to his knees, yanking her down with him. She scraped her knees painfully against the rocky ground as they fell, hissing through gritted teeth as she tried to keep Garild from face planting into the dirt. She untangled herself from him and the packs and helped him get settled against a nearby boulder. He trembled, his skin gone ashen and cold.
“Garild, come on. Are you okay?”
He continued to shiver as if he’d been stuck out in the snow. She tugged at his arm, trying to get him back on his feet, but he mumbled something incomprehensible, his head lolling from side to side. She pulled roughly on his arm again and he groaned in pain, his body limp and unmoving. Carefully, she set his arm down and sank down next to him. Hunger, thirst, and grief ate at her like worms on a corpse and next to the friend she’d betrayed, the friend that was dying because of her actions, she cried.
Great sobs wracked her body, her rib cage straining to contain the broken shards of her heart, the weight of her failures. She just wanted things to go back to how they’d been, when Ian had still been alive, just a flicker of potential. She wanted her friend back, wanted to hear his laugh and see his smile, the way his eyes would light up whenever she walked into the room.
Grief was quickly drowned under a fiery rage and, with a growl, she launched to her feet and raced up the slope of the mountain. She picked up a rock, hurling it into the distance with all the strength she could muster. It crashed against a nearby boulder, splintering into shards that shot off in numerous directions, the sound of them bouncing away echoing loudly through the rocky landscape.
She staggered to the left and took a sudden and unexpected fall. She slid down a slope in a flurry of robes and dust and rocks, earning a few new scrapes and a nearly broken finger as she collided painfully with the ground. Her finger throbbed angrily, but the pain wasn’t enough to distract from the great face staring down at her. The face protruded from a large round piece of stone, delicately carved to depict the face of a woman, her hair billowing around her in beautiful swirls. Her cheeks were puffed, lips forming a circle. Looking up at it, Kirheen expected to feel a rush of air, but there was nothing of the sort. Instead, the eyes of the carved face began to glow a bright blue and she could feel the familiar feeling of someone testing the
walls of her mind. A voice spoke, low and soft and feminine.
“Ah, a visitor,” said the voice with delight, as if she were greeting an old friend and not some stranger that had gone tumbling down the mountainside. “It’s been so long since your kind has ventured through my halls. So very long.”
Kirheen stared at the stone blankly, feeling a clear certainty that she’d hit her head during her fall. The carving was motionless, no movement accompanying the voice, but the eyes still glowed brightly. She quickly got to her feet and took several large steps back, putting more distance between herself and the strange stone face.
“Fear not, dear girl. I am Akra, guardian of the Whispering Woods. I have kept it safe, but my halls are open to you, child of the mind.”
“I’m sorry. What do you mean?” Kirheen asked aloud.
“The caves run deep, to the land beyond, a place dark and corrupt. So many secrets. There they hunt and watch as you all sway in the breeze. A feast for ravens.”
Something about the words sent a chill up Kirheen’s spine, though she had no idea what any of it meant. Nothing the stone face had said made any sense, and it didn’t make sense that she was hearing a voice at all. The trauma she’d faced, the thirst and the hunger, had become too much for her mind to handle, had made her delirious.
“The chamber is open to you, but what lies beyond, only your mind can say.”
There was a scraping of stone on stone, a jagged crunch that echoed through her bones. The circular slab of rock began to roll to the side, disappearing into a nook. She was buffeted with cold damp air from the dark cave beyond, her skin coated with moisture. Her throat ached, yearning to drain the moisture from the air.
Kirheen took a few cautious steps forward, using her hands to feel out her surroundings while her eyes adjusted to the gloom. As she rounded past a protruding chunk of stone and looked into the chamber beyond, her breath left in a whoosh of surprise. Up on a ledge, the massive tangled roots of an ancient wraith wood tree could be seen. The roots twisted and curled through the room, the pale bark glowing brightly. The rest of the massive tree broke through the roof of the chamber and out of sight. She could picture it stretching through the mountain side, branches bleeding light into other chambers just like the one she was standing in.
The sound of trickling water drew her attention away from the tree, the sensation of moisture on her skin intensifying. Beneath the ledge, water trickled from the cave walls, forming a circular pool at its base that reflected the glow of the great tree looming over it. Her body seemed to move of its own accord, and she raced towards the pool, dropping to her knees before the water. She dipped her hands in, felt the blissful coolness of the water envelop her skin. Cupping her hands, she brought the water to her parched and aching mouth and almost cried as the chilled water slid down her throat. She drank until her belly ached, then lay beside the pool for a time, listening to the gentle sound of the water dripping off the cave walls, the slight hum of the strange blue sparks floating throughout the room.
Her thoughts eventually drifted to the reality beyond the tranquility of the dark haven she’d found, back to the friend she’d left behind. Feeling renewed, she rushed back out of the cave and scrabbled up the stones, ignoring the dull ache of her many scrapes and bruises. Garild was leaned against the rocks, just as she’d left him, but his eyes were closed, his chin tucked against his chest.
Kirheen approached slowly, her chest tight with fear. Bending down, she reached out to touch his face, her trembling fingers brushing softly against his ashen skin. He lurched awake at her touch, his fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist, and she gasped with fright.
“Garild?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, and the sound that escaped her chest was a strange mixture of both. He was alive – battered and wounded – but alive. “Garild, are you okay?”
He stared at her through bleary eyes. “What happened? You left,” he said, his voice cracking. “Is there water? I need water.”
Kirheen smiled. “I found something. You’ll just need to make it a little further. I’ll help you.”
Garild groaned, but he allowed Kirheen to pull him to his feet. She gathered up their packs, making sure both water jugs were easily accessible. Stars were just peeking through the dusty sky overhead, and Kirheen used what remained of the light to guide them to the cave. At the entrance, Garild perked up and licked his lips, tasting the moisture in the air.
She helped him hobble to the edge of the pool and he dropped to his knees with a cry of pained relief. He gasped as his hand dipped into the cool, crisp water and, scooping with his uninjured hand, he brought the water to his lips and took a drink. He laughed, he cried, and for the first time since she’d betrayed him, he smiled.
CHAPTER 28
They slept that night in the misty cave, the trickling sound of water lulling them to sleep. Protected from the elements, thirst quenched, and hunger momentarily forgotten, they slept soundly through the night.
Kirheen woke first, feeling refreshed for the first time in days. Her stomach growled, longing for food that she could not give it. All she could do was drink from the churning pool and hope it would be enough to see her through. Looking around, the cave seemed darker than she remembered, the shadowy corners of the chamber having turned to a solid inky black. She looked to the cave entrance, fighting down a wave of panic as she realized there was no light shining through from outside. Scrambling to her feet, she darted across the chamber and peered around the rock formation blocking her view.
The stone face had rolled back into position, blocking them from leaving. The only way forward was through the cave, unless she wanted to admit to Garild she’d found it after talking to a stone carving. Part of her wondered if she’d hallucinated the exchange, if they’d stumbled into the cave by accident and she just couldn’t remember how they’d gotten there. It was scary having so little faith in her own memories.
She roused Garild from his slumber and he woke with a groan, blinking away sleep and observing the floating blue orbs overhead.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“I’m okay, I think. I feel better than I did yesterday.”
He turned to the pool and scooped water to his lips, slurping loudly. He seemed more alert, though he still kept his hand tucked against his chest. It was an improvement, and one she hoped continued. It would mean he’d gotten through the worst of it, that she wouldn’t be left alone.
Kirheen followed the outer edge of the chamber, searching for a path or some other chamber that would lead them further into the mountain. She found one opening on the far left side of the room, a small jagged arch in the stone and a cramped pathway they’d have to squeeze through. It led into the dark and she could see no further than that.
“I think I found a way through,” she said to Garild, bending down and gathering up their packs. She helped him to his feet and he reached forward to take the pack from her shoulder.
“I’m okay,” he protested. “I can carry my own.”
Kirheen swung away from him, keeping the pack just out of his reach. “Let’s not chance it, Garild. They aren’t too heavy. I can carry both.”
He opened his mouth to argue but shut it abruptly and huffed through his nose. Raising his hand, he shooed her forward. Kirheen led him to the path she’d found in the wall and shrugged the packs off her shoulders. The path was just as narrow as it had seemed, and she stumbled along awkwardly, trying to keep one pack in front of her and one behind so she could make it through the tight corridor. She felt a growing sense of unease as the craggy walls pressed in close, scratching at her skin and catching on the fabric of her robes. She was just starting to panic when they slipped into another chamber, though it was much darker than the one they’d left behind.
Kirheen had to squint to make out their surroundings. The cave walls glistened with moisture, reflecting the sporadic blue motes of light dancing around the room. Roots of the great wraith wood
tree could be seen weaving through the floor off to the right, the soft glow lending a small bit of light to the gloomy chamber. The shadows looked deeper in the far corner of the room and upon further inspection, Kirheen found it to be another narrow passage. They made it through without any problems, the walls allowing more breathing room than the prior passage had. They were dumped into another chamber, but it was hard to see anything. Only a few stray motes of light hovered near the ceiling, too far away to be of any help. As they took a few steps forward, Kirheen began to hear a strange noise, a low and steady humming that plucked at her nerves.
“Allseer, what is that sound?” Garild asked, sounding as irritated as she felt.
“I don’t know,” she replied hastily. “I don’t know, but let’s get to the next room.”
It was a struggle to see anything in the dark chamber. The glow of the wraith wood tree was no longer there to guide them and the steady buzzing sound echoing off the walls was distracting her from the task at hand. Her sense of direction was lost in the noise, in that all-consuming sound echoing through her head. She put her hand against the cave wall and walked forward, fingers trailing against the damp stone as she tried to find where they needed to go. “Stay there, Garild. Just for a moment.”
The Allseer Trilogy Page 24