Shadow Soul

by R. Michael Card

  Rockslides? “Where do we go from here?” Volf looked around and saw no path.

  Hildr pointed up the mountainside.

  Far above them was a large cave. They would have to climb part of the mountian to get there. It wasn’t as steep as the sheer cliff on the other side of the wall-walk, but it wouldn’t be a simple climb either. Ropes were already in place, knotted to help climb in some of the steeper spots, and there were a few landings along the way where they might be able to rest.

  Volf sighed. He’d been wondering if things could get worse than that wall-walk.

  Now he knew.

  25

  Jais’ heart was pounding. Fear was a living thing for him now. He’d never been faced with great heights back home. He didn’t know if he was terrified of the drop below them because of any innate fear of heights, or just the danger inherent in their current situation.

  The ledge itself was running with water and treacherous. They all kept as far from the edge as they could, skirting along the mountainside as they climbed higher on the rocky path. It didn’t help that water was sheeting down the mountainside, making it hard to support himself, as his hand slid along the mostly smooth stone. It also meant there was an ever-present little rush of water pushing their feet out toward the edge.

  “We should not go on,” Elria called back over the high winds and thrashing rains.

  “We have to!” Jais shouted up to her. She was leading them. With a glance back to Gosse, the other man nodded. Everyone had gone ahead so far, which meant the crazy drahksan wizard was probably close on the heels of his friends.

  He didn’t like this any more than Elria did.

  They came upon a small cave, not much more than an alcove in the stone, but large enough that the three of them crammed together could get out of the rain for a moment.

  Elria turned to him, soaked. Her hair was plastered to her face and covering much of her expression. What Jais did see was at least one stern eye and a frowning mouth. “No farther shall we go, until you tell me everything,” Elria said.

  As she waited for a response, Elria motioned for him to drop her pack. Once he did, she fished around in it for a moment, coming out with a long piece of twine. She pulled her hair back and tied it.

  Now Jais could see both eyes and was certain she wasn’t impressed.

  How to best say this.

  “Gosse is a drahksan like me… at least we’re fairly certain of that. One of the abilities of most drahksani is to sense other drahksani. I can’t, but he can.” This was the tricky part. “That wizard who attacked your village. It seems he was after us, not you. It also seems he was a drahksan, which means Gosse can sense him as well as my friends. They’re all up there, heading for the dragon. We need to warn them or help them or something.”

  Elria had listened intently, eyes darting from Jais to Gosse and back. They narrowed as they settled on Gosse. “Where did you come from?”

  Gosse looked to Jais. His gaze said it all: ‘should I tell her?’

  Jais sighed. “It’s a long story that we don’t have time for now. We need to catch up to the others and help them.”

  She nodded to that. “I will get the full story from you at some point.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “Good.” She shook out some tension then moved close to Jais and kissed him quickly. “For luck. This next bit gets a little tricky,” she said by way of explaining her actions. She didn’t smile. In fact, she seemed a bit grim. She nodded to herself then stepped back out into the rain.

  Jais followed.

  She spoke — raising her voice in the torrential rain — as she moved carefully up the path.

  “Ahead there be a river. It be probably quite swollen by now. We need to move next to it. It be very precarious. I will need your full attention to walk you through it.”

  She went on to explain some odd path along a wall, which Jais didn’t quite understand. He got only that it would be hard with the storm and was very dangerous. He hoped it would make more sense when he saw it.

  It was hard to tell where the path ended and the river began. The raging waters burst from the narrow crack in the mountain and spilled over the ledge before cascading down in a wide waterfall. It was clear that the water swirling around their feet would only get deeper and more forceful as they reached that crevice so they all stayed as close to the mountain’s wall as they could.

  Jais’ feet were soaked, his boots now just vessels for water. He assumed it was the same for the other two. Despite being summer, the waters were cold, and his teeth were chattering before he reached the river.

  “There be a rope, just around the corner.” Elria was having to yell to be heard over the storm’s winds and the rivers rushing roar.

  She turned herself so she was face first into the rock, then edged to the corner and reached around once she could bend her elbow.

  The waters swirling around her feet were nearly as high as her tall boots, mid-calf. The push of the river must have been too much. Her feet were swept out from under her.

  Jais was quick and caught her one arm. The other still seemed to be holding something around the corner. She regained her footing but didn’t let go of Jais’ arm.

  Her eyes were a little wide as she gulped in air. “Thank you!”

  He couldn’t tell, but he thought there were tears in her eyes. There was too much water everywhere to be certain. She was breathing hard though and took a moment to recover before going on.

  “You will have to push your feet against the river. It won’t be easy. Trust the rope and your hands. Hold tight because the river will be trying to push your feet from under you.” She took a moment to simply breathe before going on. “Usually we’d send our packs across separately, but we don’t have time. We’ll just have to go along with them.” Her eyes met Jais’ and there was something desperate and dire in her gaze. She couldn’t lower her voice that much and still be heard, but she managed. “I think I love you, Jais. So, don’t die on me, please.”

  His heart lurched at those words.

  In the heat of the moment, as uncertain as he might have been, he could only reply with. “I love you too, Elria.”

  She nodded with a quick, faint smile then was edging toward the corner once again. Jais moved with her, still holding her other arm.

  She moved one foot around the corner, the river doing its best to try and push it back. Finally, she nodded. “I need you to let my arm go now. Follow quickly.”

  Jais nodded as he released her.

  Then she was gone around the corner, and it was Jais’ turn to face the wall and search for the rope.

  His fingers touched something but slipped off. He tried again, and his hand curled around a thick rope.

  He barely heard her shout. She sounded distant over the cacophony of water around him. “Move your foot out, feel for a gap in the rock. Then move that same foot along to the next one, it be close. Then swing around.”

  He did as instructed, finding one notch, then a second one. He glanced at Gosse and nodded before slipping around into the river. The water swirled around his knees here.

  Despite having sounded far away, Elria hadn’t gone far at all. She’d been waiting for them. He moved over a couple notches toward her, gripping the rope hard, making room for Gosse.

  But as he turned to her to smile and reassure her he was safe he saw a great surge of water rolling down the river to them. He hurried to her, placing his hand over hers to make sure she was secure as it hit them.

  She stayed where she was.

  He didn’t.

  Only one of his feet had found a foothold in his rush to close the gap between him and Elria. When the surge hit him, he was pulled off the wall. His hand on hers wasn’t a solid hold and it slipped off first, his other came away with the force of his body being turned in the river.

  Then there was only the shock of icy water over his head. Spun around, he didn’t know which way was up. He flailed wildly
to find a rock or something to hold to keep himself from plunging over that waterfall.

  Then his hand hit something, a death grip on his arm. He was pulled from the waters and half tossed back onto the ledge, sliding down but not out or off.

  Whatever had caught him still held him and after the shock of his icy trip wore off, he looked up to see Gosse’s hand clutching his arm. The man was half around the corner and half braced against the rock holding Jais. The look on his face was frantic.

  “You alive?” It was a silly question in most circumstances, but much appreciated now.

  Jais nodded.

  “I got him!” Gosse yelled back in the other direction. “Keep going, we’ll catch up!”

  There was a response, he could hear the sound, but not the words.

  Gosse’s reply was simply, “Go!” Then he turned back to Jais. “You ready to try again?”

  Jais nodded.

  However, a problem became quickly apparent.

  He was too cold.

  He’d been shivering before, but after his ice water bath, he was trembling violently. The rain was cold, but the river was frigid. He could hardly stand, he felt so weak. The first time he tried to grab the rope he couldn’t make his fingers wrap around it.

  “I can’t,” he yelled to Gosse and slid back around the corner.

  He sat down and shook violently, teeth chattering. Tears mingled with the rain on his face.

  Gosse yelled around the corner for a moment then returned to him.

  “Come on, big guy!” the man said, picking him up and helping him back down along the ledge.

  They found that same cave where they’d stopped on the way up and huddled together.

  “We’ll wait for the rain to pass then try again,” Gosse said.

  Jais could only nod. He couldn’t form words with the chattering of his teeth.

  There wasn’t room for a fire, so they waited, cold and miserable.

  Jais could only pray Elria made it through.

  But with that fire-crazed wizard and his vicious bodyguard, he feared what awaited her on the other side.

  26

  They’d been moving through the cave for some time now, and Caerwyn’s clothes were nearly dry. It had been a grueling day. After the wall-walk had come a steep uphill climb, sometimes using knotted ropes, anchored and left behind by previous Dronnegir who’d blazed this harsh trail. Hildr, always amazing in her capabilities, had climbed up free-hand to help speed along their ascent.

  The storm had been lessening somewhat by then. All in all, it hadn’t lasted that long, but it had been intense.

  She still wondered what had happened to Jais. If he had come after them, she hoped he’d waited until the storm passed to attempt the wall-walk.

  She’d been sure she was going to die when she’d slipped off the wall. Of all the most terrifying moments in her life, that ranked up there with the worst.

  But they were safe now.

  Once within the cave, they’d brought out lanterns and lit them. Everyone had one as the cave floor, though mostly flat, was still not entirely level with many catches and bumps. Caerwyn kept one eye on the ground ahead of her and the other on Hildr, who led the way.

  The cave was wide, and they didn’t have to walk single file, so Volf walked next to her. He’d seemed different since their conversation on the mountainside. If anything, he was more attentive, yet without being intrusive.

  Barami walked ahead with Hildr, which had become a thing with them now. They chatted in low tones as they walked, occasionally laughing or gasping at something the other said.

  Caerwyn felt a bit of a loss watching Barami find someone. She shouldn’t be upset. She’d been pushing him away for years, knowing how he felt about her. She was glad he’d found someone. But now that he had, Caerwyn was losing something as well. She’d seen it often enough growing up. Friends would find lovers or mates and suddenly had less time for their friends. She was mourning their deep friendship, even though it was far from over.

  The question that plagued her was simple: what if Barami chose to stay with Hildr and not continue with Caerwyn when she left? It seemed likely. She wasn’t sure what she’d do in that instance. She’d soldier on, as she always did. No man would ever define her and eventually all her male friends would probably find someone and leave her.

  Suddenly she felt very alone. She’d been walking in silence for too long.

  “Tell me about yourself,” she said to Volf. “What was it like growing up in Cold River?”

  “I’ve already told you all the interesting bits.” He had gone over much of his life on the way up north, seeming quite happy to have someone to talk to.

  “Then tell me the not interesting bits.”

  He laughed. “Well, I spent most nights on the roofs of the town.”

  “That’s fairly interesting.”

  “Perhaps, but all I was doing was watching and listening. I wanted to know how others lived. What a normal life was. I came to have certain families I’d watch over. There was the smith’s family living over the forge. They had three sons and one daughter. The smith, Nyordin by name, wanted his sons to take over the forge after him, but they each had their own ambitions. One left to be a traveling minstrel. Another joined the Forest Walkers—”

  “What are they?”

  “The Forest Walkers? They are the protectors of Cold River and the surrounding area. They patrol the lands like the Dronnegir patrol their lands and keep wild men and wild beasts out.”

  “Oh.”

  “The third son learned a little smithing but was always more interested in the horses that came through for shoeing and eventually became a teamster. I think he even went on to become a horse merchant.”

  “So, the smith was left alone? No one took over his forge?” That resonated a little too deeply with her at the moment.

  Volf Laughed. “No, you forget there was another child. And you, better than most, should know a woman does not have to be demure and soft.”

  “The daughter? She took over the forge?”

  “Indeed she did, and is a darned good smith to hear her father boast of her in the pub.”

  Caerwyn had to laugh a little. “I’m glad. Does she like doing it, or does she do it only because there was no one else?”

  Volf drew in a long breath. “I think she always wanted to do what her brothers were doing, and when she saw that they were going elsewhere she seized that opportunity. I believe she is quite happy. Though in recent years there’s been some trouble.”

  “Oh?”

  “She has grown quite strong and stout. Her mother worries that she won’t find a husband.”

  “Does she need one?”

  Volf sighed. “The daughter wants one. She wants a family… children… and…” He gave Caerwyn an odd look.

  She understood his hesitancy. “You don’t need to be afraid to talk about such things with me. I know I am odd in my desires.” She gave him a warm smile to help hide her own insecurities.

  “Well then, yes, she does want a husband and children. She’ll need someone to take over the forge from her when she grows old.”

  “But she’s too manly?”

  “Or so everyone thought. But just earlier this year, her brother — the one in the Forest Walkers — brought home a friend from a village to the east. He was a large man and looking for a large woman apparently. He and the daughter are now courting.”

  “That seems like an ideal match.”

  “Oh, why do you think so?”

  Caerwyn shrugged. “He will be away much of the time guarding the villages and she will be left to her work. They can have a few children but otherwise keep to themselves.”

  Volf hedged a little. “That may sound ideal to you, but to others it sounds lonely. I do not know what will happen with that smith’s daughter and her new beau, but I think perhaps they may want to see more of each other than that.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged again. It just showed how much she didn’t
really know or understand other women, or men, or anyone really.

  They walked in silence for some time.

  Thoughts bounced around in her head until she felt compelled to speak them. “I wonder if my upbringing is causing my desire to be alone and independent.” She’d never discussed this with anyone before — never one to delve into her emotions too deeply.

  “Oh?” Volf prompted.

  “Well I was raised in a prince’s house. I had many people around me, but no one really on my level. The prince had no other sons or daughters — he was a widower and never remarried — that’s why he’d adopted me. But I was always enough for him, and he enough for me.” She shrugged. “I never needed anyone else and it came to the point where I didn’t want anyone else, not in that way anyway.” She laughed. “I only grudgingly accepted Barami as a friend because he stuck to my side and would never leave. I saved his life, had I mentioned that?”

  “I think I’d heard it somewhere.”

  She smiled at the memory, despite it having been a horrible day. It was long ago, and she had a different view on it now. “He and his unit were escorting me to a meeting in Uluantu with some Chieftains who wished for imperial support in dealing with some Imbuti rebels. On the way there, those same rebels attacked us. They thought to kill a princess. They had been quite surprised to find out I wasn’t some soft royal; that I could fight.” She sighed. “Still, most of my men were killed, outnumbered two to one. When I could see that we were falling, failing, with only a few remaining, I charged into the enemy ranks.” She shook her head slowly. “They did not expect that, and it gave me an edge. I knew then we could win. Yet even as I did, I saw a raider sneaking up behind Barami. With one throw of Davlas I slew the raider just as he struck. Barami took only a glancing blow instead of a fatal one. After that, we finished off the foes together.”

  “Davlas? What is that?”

  Another sigh. “That was a magical weapon. A spear. Davlas was its name and when I called it, it would appear in my hand. It always flew true and never failed me.”