by L. R. W. Lee
“Anything you wish, Ali dearest. I’m yours. Oh yes, all yours.” Kovis drew out the words then executed a forward roll as he moved to follow.
With my ice bridge spanning a good distance in width, I didn’t have to worry about him falling off the side, that was for sure. I just hoped the effects of this power glut wore off once we distanced ourselves from The Canyon. I’d never seen him drunk, but I imagined it would be much the same. Small mercy, if he ever did, he’d be a funny drunk. As it was, he was beginning to grate on my nerves. Food and sex, that did indeed seem to be the extent of how he viewed the world.
We crossed The Canyon without further incident, thank the gods. I didn’t look back. I wanted to get as far away from it as we could as quickly as we could. Selfish as it was, I wanted the Kovis I knew, the man I’d fallen in love with, back.
The sun peaked and then continued its circuit through the sky as we flew on. By the time its rays grew long, my Dreambeam was back to normal and didn’t remember a thing. He furrowed his brow with worry as I told the tale. His eyes grew wide with disbelief when I got to the part where I’d seen the result of my work.
You could have been killed! All that power. You were lucky. Ali, promise me you’ll never do something like that again.
I had no desire to experience anything close to that again, but the concern in his tone had me agreeing in a heartbeat. I just hoped we didn’t encounter something else in our quest that would force me to go back on my word.
I was never more glad to set down and make camp than I was that night. I was physically spent and mentally exhausted. Kovis on the other hand, oozed with energy. I wasn’t surprised. He spotted and killed a snow hare, started a fire, and constructed a crude shelter in no time, all the while encouraging me to rest.
I’d fallen asleep against the trunk of a tree by the time he roused me for dinner.
“We should reach the sea tomorrow,” he said as he handed me a hot bit of hare.
I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of jest. There was none. I let his words wash over me like the sweet music of a lullaby. The sea. The last obstacle before Sonmel Island. My shoulders sagged. Knowledge that it was up to Kovis and me to save Alfreda and Kennan as well as stop Father had spurred us on. But at every juncture, we’d run into some obstacle. Only our determination had kept us going.
The rigor of it all felt similar to my preparation for The Ninety-Eight. Had all this been the gods’ version of training for what was to come? Had they assessed we were finally ready? I dared believe it.
Alfreda, we’re coming.
The next four suns flew by. Kovis had been right. We’d risen early and reached the coast by the time the sun peaked. It turned out that the surface of the water was strong enough to support our winds, so the next sun we flew to Nasvat Island. We’d flown on to Yokel Island the next.
We’d left Yokel early this morning as the sun peeked over the horizon. It now cast long shadows as we approached Sonmel Island. Kovis had said stories told of it being haunted, but in the orange rays dancing against the still-white snow, it looked innocent, uninhabited even. I wondered if I should be worried at the seeming tranquility. Did it mask some great evil waiting to unleash itself on us? I pushed the thought away. Why invite trouble?
A peak rose in the distance, and my heart fluttered. Taller by far than anything near it, it had to be Atrop, Porta’s reciprocal peak. If—and that was a very big “if”—I’d understood that fairy tale correctly, it was somehow the doorway between Dream and Wake. We’d find out next sun. We were so close.
Kovis. I nodded, and he followed my gaze, then returned a smile.
Have faith, Ali. We’ll rescue them.
I wondered if he, like me, was trying to reassure himself. We had no choice. I clenched my jaw; perhaps it would give my resolve the boost of confidence it needed.
We ventured far enough inland to find shelter in a copse of snow-dusted evergreens. They stood near a stream whose water still ran despite the temperatures, so we set down and took to preparing our campsite and finding dinner. Kovis set the wards and hunted. I cleared the ground of snow, started the fire, and built a primitive shelter. Though we’d done these tasks every night, with the possibilities the next sun brought, this might be the last time. I’d learned to tolerate the cold—I’d certainly never enjoy it—but I might miss this routine with him. Call me a sentimental fool.
The nearly full moon peeked out from behind a cloud as I nestled into Kovis’s arms, around a warm fire for the night. If all went well, dare I think it, we might be home next sun. Butterflies alighted in my stomach. But howling in the distance cut short my glee. We hadn’t heard howling in ages. Just our luck, maybe this was why people said the island was haunted. I tensed as thoughts of mares attacking us sent a wave of panic through me. The feeling of being watched galloped on its heels, and I shuddered.
My wards will alert us if they come our way, Kovis reminded me. They’re probably just wolves.
Little comfort that gave because my mind started running through the litany of monsters and evil creatures that fairy tale had spoken about as coming through Porta. Perhaps it really was a connection with Hades itself. Maybe tales of Sonmel being haunted weren’t so far off.
Kovis nibbled at my ear then kissed my cheek, no doubt trying to distract me. But I couldn’t break the hold my thoughts had on me. Despite his actions, he wasn’t into what he suggested either. One peek through the bond told me as much. His thoughts were consumed with the what-ifs of stopping Father once we got to Dream, mixed with insecurities about overcoming the darkness that our conversation of suns before had stirred up.
I rolled over and rested my forehead against his bare chest. I couldn’t see his tattoo under the capes as we were, but I speculated it might be gray, or lacking confidence if I remembered its meaning.
We’ll do this, all of it, together, Kovis.
I felt his chin bob on the top of my head, and his arm hugged me tighter.
And so it went all night. Exhaustion won out at some point, but I woke when it was still dark, my mind no quieter. Even focusing on the babbling of the river not far off couldn’t get me back to sleep. Kovis was no better off as I discovered after a quick peek. I doubted he’d slept at all. Although I continued to feel eyes watching us, we’d had no surprise visitors. Small mercy.
I tried to push it all aside. The time for action had at last come, and my stomach fluttered at the thought. An antsy feeling beset me as we crawled out of our warm cocoon. Kovis was equally ready to go, and we were on our way not long after the sun rose.
Everything in Wake had its reciprocal in Dream. I assumed that meant Sonmel was identical to Lemnos geographically, and if that was the case, we would arrive at Porta as the sun began its descent from its peak. We’d have plenty of light to search for the door or whatever connected them.
Clouds appeared as we flew and grew thicker and darker the further we went. It seemed as if they tried to shroud some dark secret the island held. I swallowed. Maybe they did.
We’d been flying for some time when I spotted something moving on the ground below. With it being winter, we’d seen virtually no life. But the closer we got, I realized it was a herd of wild horses, grazing. Their coats varied from white to amber to rust to black. They paid us no mind, intent as they were on feeding.
Kovis! Look!
It was an odd sight, especially out on this deserted island.
Ali…
I looked over at Kovis. He had his brow furrowed, studying the creatures. My gaze returned just as… what? Fire erupted from one of the horse’s mouths. The snow melted, and it continued grazing.
Did… did it just…?
Kovis forced a laugh. I didn’t know what to think.
Several more of the horses repeated the spectacle as we passed. I would have hated to get on one of their bad sides.
The skies grew ever darker the further we flew. At this rate it would be pitch black by the time we reached Atrop. The air felt
thick. I’d experienced the feeling of air heavy with moisture just before a storm, but this was different. It felt like I flew in soup.
I feel it too. We’re slowing.
I hadn’t noticed our progress stalling, but he was right. I tried sending more Air magic to propel me forward, but it had no effect.
Our magic is fading, Kovis said.
Fading? But how?
You don’t have magic in Dream, right?
True, but… Damn! I hadn’t realized how accustomed to magic I’d become. I’d never once thought about not having it available in this quest, at least within Wake. Was all of my magic affected? I still wasn’t convinced it all sprang from The Canyon. Maybe I was hoping to hold mist, but I hated the thought of being without it even for a short time while we located that door.
We’ll soon discover if your theory was correct about the source of your magic.
I chuckled. And if I am?
Kovis looked over and winked. I can think of any number of ways to reward you for sticking to your story. Though it wasn’t pronounced, I sensed a hint of uncertainty in his mood.
He was the most powerful sorcerer the Altairn Empire had ever known. He’d manifested late as a result, so he knew what it was like to not have power, but he’d no doubt gotten used to it, much as I. I hoped I had power from another source, but he had no such hope. And while Altairn sorcerers trained with daggers, swords, and other weapons for situations like this, we had none of those either. He would be facing whatever obstacles we encountered unprotected.
You okay?
He was thoughtful for only a heartbeat. I could tell you I’m great, fine even, but it would be a lie and would feed the darkness. So, I’ll tell you the truth. I’m scared, Ali. We don’t know what we’re up against, and the thought of something happening to you and being unable to protect you scares me shitless.
I almost wished he’d lied. Not really, but his brutal honesty destroyed the calm that him beside me always created. He’d always been strong and protected me. He’d given me confidence when I’d had none. I longed for that sense of security, even if it was false. But I’d get none.
Atrop rose tall before us when the last of our power evaporated and we stepped from our Air cushions into snow that rose to our knees. Dark clouds filled the sky, obscuring the sun completely. It felt like night even though we couldn’t have flown that long. I estimated the sun would only be starting its descent.
“Shall we?” Kovis said, looking at the peak.
We waded through drifts, some to our waist, others covering only our feet. Some places, bare rock stuck up, refusing to submit to winter. My feet started going numb. I focused on the ground and putting one foot in front of the other; it was all I could do.
Ali!
I looked up to hear a screech and see large, black wings flap as a great bird launched off the side of the peak not far ahead. A second bird mimicked a blink later. My heart raced.
We were out in the open with no place to hide.
I watched the first bird soar up and realized it wasn’t completely avian. Its head and torso were that of a naked woman, with breasts that rose and fell with each flap of its enormous black, feathered wings. Long white hair flowed in the wind, and its shins were covered in scales. It turned sharp talons toward us while still a ways off and flexed them, as if assured one of us would be its next meal.
Kovis, they’re harpies! They guard the underworld! What are they doing here?
Its partner screeched and soared beside it.
“Dive! Roll!” Kovis yelled when the pair were nearly on top of us.
We’d practiced the move more times than I could count, and my body responded without hesitation. A sharp claw passed a finger’s width from the side of my face as I tucked. I rolled in the snow and came back up to standing near Kovis.
Harpies had been spotted only a handful of times in Dream since I’d been born, and they always created a stir. They were wind spirits that some called Dyeus’s hounds because he used them to do his dirty work. Or so they said.
The harpies screeched, undoubtedly upset that we’d avoided them. They circled and approached, talons first, for a second pass.
We ducked and rolled again.
Kovis, we can’t keep this up.
Do you have any better ideas?
More screeches, their intensity and pitch rose with another failed attempt. Their breasts, overlarge by my standard, undulated wildly as the harpies banked and soared overhead. I wished they’d knock themselves out with the things.
Knock themselves out. Wait. Could I put them to sleep? I prayed I hadn’t dreamed up my power coming from someplace other than The Canyon. Our lives depended on it.
We need to get them to land or at least touch the ground. I can put them to sleep.
Is there enough sand?
I don’t know, but this is an island. I have to believe there is. You have any better idea?
We dove and rolled a third time. But as they passed, I reached out with Simulus and felt the power of our attacker’s winds coursing through them. I’d only ever pulled power from sorcerers, but what said that was my limit? I could do this.
How do you plan to get them to land? Kovis asked.
Trust me.
I’d have to take them one at a time.
We dove the fourth time, but as I rolled, I latched on to the one above me and pushed it down with the force of its own winds. It shrieked as it flapped wildly but plummeted to the ground. Its wings whipped up snow, but I forced the harpy down until its overlarge bosom fondled the ground.
Go to sleep. Go to sleep.
“Look out!” Kovis yelled, and I rolled toward the harpy, which now lay still, wings outstretched, face planted in a snow drift. I had no sympathy for it.
I forced the other harpy down to the ground with my winds its next pass. A heartbeat later, it, too, submitted to slumber as I assaulted it with my Somnus magic.
I panted, on all fours in a drift when Kovis plucked me up and pulled me into a bear hug. You did it, Ali. You did it.
My feet dangled as he buried his face in the crook of my neck.
You did it, he murmured again, seemingly to reassure both of us of the truth of it.
Kovis… can you put me down? It was hard to breathe with him holding me so tightly.
He smiled, relief flooding his eyes, as my feet touched down. “That was amazing. You’re incredible, Ali.”
I bowed. “Why thank you. I try.”
“Being a harpy is the tits.”
I burst out laughing and cackled until my sides hurt. When I finally recovered, I said, “Looks like you owe me a reward for sticking to my story about my powers.” My powers really did stem from a place beyond The Canyon. I’d sensed it all along but had no proof. There was no denying it any longer.
Kovis laughed. “There is nothing I would enjoy more. Somehow I think we’ll both enjoy it.” He flicked his brows.
I snickered. Yes, food and sex. “Well, come on, oh great rewarder. We’re not in Dream yet.”
We both surveyed the sleeping harpies before turning. They’d be out a good long time. But the triumph filled me with confidence that we really could make it. I suspected Kovis felt much the same, for he twined his fingers through mine and squeezed my hand as we started off.
According to the fairy tale, vile creatures had slithered and crept out of a door in Atrop. And it was well known that harpies guarded the doors to the underworld. Unless the pair had been given a holiday for good behavior, we couldn’t be far, and I told Kovis as much.
“But we don’t want to head to the underworld,” Kovis objected, his voice rising.
“I’m going on gut, but I think there’s more than one door.”
He cocked his head.
Trust me.
He rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth ticked upward. I’d told him the same thing in that confrontation with those bird women, and that had worked out okay.
The harpies had been perched on two
massive chunks of fallen rock as we’d approached. I’d seen them take flight. Could it really be that simple to find the door?
We reached an area with crushed rock and pebbles under the blanket of snow and looked up, examining the mountainside for any hint of ingress. And found nothing.
“Let’s just scale it,” Kovis suggested.
But before we took one step, I heard what sounded like an animal lowing. We both looked up as a shaggy, hoofed beast with horns so heavy it couldn’t look up, plodded out from somewhere inside the mountain. It slid at points as it sought footing in the crumbly ground.
It’s a catoblepas! Don’t move or look at its eyes!
Never in my life had I seen one, but I’d heard stories of the things turning people into stone with a look or breathing on them. Was this another of the creatures roaming this island? No wonder it had the reputation it did.
We waited silently until the creature reached the base of the mountain and wandered away, never once paying us any mind. Thank the gods.
But it had exposed the mountain’s secret.
There could be more, Kovis cautioned.
I’m sure of it. And probably worse.
We both took a deep breath before taking our first step.
“Come on,” I said.
Once we knew where it was, the door was easy to find. We hadn’t seen it because a boulder had fallen in front of the opening, and while it was far enough away that it didn’t block it, it hid it from eyes below.
We stood before the gaping hole and studied it, both silent. What lurked in the blackness beyond? Would we face more creatures looking for a quick meal the heartbeat we entered? Which way would we go? Up? Down? My stomach clenched. I checked the bond, and Kovis’s thoughts mirrored mine.
It seems to fit the description you painted, Kovis said, as if rationalizing stepping forward to what could be our deaths.
We’ll never save Kennan if we don’t check it out, I added, more to push myself forward than reassure him.
At length I turned toward Kovis, and we searched each other’s eyes for any signs of doubt. There were plenty, but reason informed us both that this seemed to be the way.