by BJ Hanlon
As they rode, Edin closed his eyes and saw the demon in the egg of fire. No, he thought, demon wasn’t right, monster wasn’t right… it was something more. Something much worse.
He got that out of his head again by staring off at the back side of the lake as they passed. There was a hill covered in trees, sans leaves, and other bare twiggy bushes. But then as they continued past it, he saw it wasn’t a hill, it was an island. A small tranquil island in the middle of the massive mountains that moved slowly over millennia.
Edin lost sight of it as they began turning back north around the wavy mountain with a large evergreen forest on the lower slopes.
For a long time, hours at least, he kept his mind from thinking about it. He tried quieting it by staring at objects in the distance, counting in his head or just trying not to think. The last was hard, impossible maybe.
No one ever called him a genius, but even so, trying to stop the mind from working was nearly impossible. The staring at distant objects became fruitless as a deep, white fog rolled in.
At first, he thought he was coming, that thing from the underworld, but the fog was whiter and thicker than any he’d ever seen. Not the putrid yellow and murky soup-like fog of the ancient swamps.
Edin hoped this didn’t bring any giant serpents.
It didn’t but the fog did slow their progress and then surprised Edin when the road rose again like a path to the heavens. It climbed for miles winding through mountains and without the sun, he didn’t know which way he was going.
Dephina was singing some soft tune and he was trying to listen to that when he noticed that on his left the land just fell away. Then he casually glanced to the other side and saw the same thing.
There was no mountain over there either and the road was maybe five feet wide. Narrower than it had been in a long while.
“Grent,” Edin yelled up ahead keeping his voice from shaking. He could barely make out his shadow in the fog. He looked behind him and saw Berka taking up the rear.
“Yeah?” Grent called back.
“What is this?” They were on a ridge that he hoped was short and they’d be next to a mountain soon. Having a drop on one side was bad enough, but on both sides…
Edin felt like a thick wind would take him over the side.
Of course, now he could stop the wind but that didn’t keep his heart from thumping. What was over the edge. What was just out of sight?
He pushed the thoughts from his head. They weren’t ones he was comfortable having. Not in the slightest.
“It’s the Crescent Ridge,” Grent said. “It’s about a mile long and connects two mountain peaks.”
Dephina who’d stopped her humming looked over her shoulder. “It’s not bad now. You should see it when the fog is gone. The drop is dizzying.”
“Dep—” Grent shrieked.
Edin felt his gut twist, though not in the good way it used to when he first found the talent. This was the way that made him want to turn to the side and puke.
“Sorry. I forgot,” she said but Edin wasn’t hearing it. He was staring at the precipice to the right, then switching to the left. He was glad the horse was under him because he was certain his legs were useless at this point.
On one of his turns, he saw a stone—a small, oval shaped stone—move. It seemed to tilt to one side and then fell off the cliff as if it’d been pushed by a wind.
But there wasn’t one. At least not one strong enough to do that. There was a breeze, but it was barely a whimper compared to some of the howling gusts he’d heard in the mountains, the tundra, or the fjords.
He heard another stone clattering on the ground and saw it skipping across the bridge violently. Then it flew off the edge and disappeared into the mirk.
“Did you do that?” Berka asked.
Edin shook his head. “Grent?” He looked up and couldn’t see the man’s shadow. The fog had gotten thicker. He could barely see Dephina. Edin looked back and saw Berka’s horse was literally on his horse’s tail.
“What?” Grent called back.
“Do rocks normally fly around the ridge?” Berka yelled up there.
“No.” There was a pause. “Edin are you a terestio?”
“No!” he yelled back over the clatter. He was watching the sides of the ridge again. It felt like the bridge was getting thinner. In fact, Edin was certain of it.
Suddenly, a loud, throaty croak, that was neither human nor dematian rumbled through the mountains. It echoed and bounced and sounded like it could’ve come from anywhere or everywhere.
The horses whinnied and bucked. Edin’s horse threw its head back almost far enough to hit Edin’s chest. Gooseflesh populated his body and he felt a cold sweat beginning to form.
“What the heck was that?” Berka whispered as if to not let whatever made that sound hear him speak. Not that it mattered with the still crying horses. “That wasn’t the wyrm was it?”
“No, it wasn’t,” Edin whispered back.
“Good, but I still don’t want to see what made that sound.”
Edin didn’t either.
Something whipped past his face so fast he could barely see what it was. Edin blinked and looked at the way it went, but whatever it was got lost in the fog.
“There’s something out here,” Grent cried ominously from the white wall ahead of them.
“We need to get to the other side,” Dephina yelled. “Gallop, now!”
Edin didn’t like that option either but it was a better choice than being vulnerable on a high ridge. What if whatever was out there could see through fog? He thought of a crillio stalking a deer through tall, wavy grass.
We are the deer, he thought.
“Just a little more,” Grent called and his horses’ clops grew faster, then Dephina’s did as well and her shadow was out of view.
Something came over him. A feeling and Edin was nearly paralyzed. The ridges were high, the road was thin and suddenly he felt he was going too fast. Edin had a premonition that he and the horse would fall.
“Come on Edin,” Berka cried out behind him.
Somehow, he was able to turn around on the horse just as something swooped past. It barely missed taking Berka’s head off. His eyes widened and suddenly Berka kicked the horse.
Both of their animals bucked and he felt the saddle come up and clap his nether region.
Edin grunted and saw white. Then the horse was galloping too fast.
Wind rushed at him nearly blinding him with tears. Then a moment later, something began to appear out of the gloom. It was huge and stood like a wall. But it wasn’t. Its top disappeared above them in the fog but he could see two tall pillars of craggy rock. Somehow, he was making out a knee joint and a foot. They were like legs.
Then from above, something appeared to be coming down at them.
A fist.
Edin screamed and tried to pull back on the reins. The horse seemed confused, first trying to stop and skidding but then bucking forward again so the fist would crash right on top of them.
He had no choice, Edin summoned an ethereal shield to cover him and the horse. That too turned out to be a bad option.
The horse was startled. It didn’t know what was happening and twisted the left.
Toward the edge of the high bridge.
He released the shield. His heart pounding to the horse’s gallop.
To the right, just barely, the fist slammed into the road. It was followed by a thunderous crack like lightning next to his ear. He felt the reverberations and so did the animal.
Then the land was gone. The horse leapt off the edge and bucked Edin out of the saddle. There were huge eruptions from behind but all he could see was the horse a few yards below him and the surrounding white fog. He was falling fast and knew there was no way he’d see the bottom and be able to do anything when he did.
Edin screamed, crying out as he fell. He felt the wind rushing past as he dropped. Then he closed his eyes and reached out to the talent. The billowing air car
essed his arms and his body. He summoned it around and down below him. He felt the cushion and began to slow. The air roared below him in a current as he fell but he was going much slower. A moment later, something big and black flew past his face.
Berka’s horse. He heard Berka’s scream and then saw him. It was as if he were a boulder plummeting off a steep crevasse.
That was pretty much what it was Edin thought. Then he closed his eyes and reached out. He felt his friend and sent out another billowing cloud of wind to form the cushion. There was still screaming, but it didn’t sound scared. It sounded more confused. “What in the name of Losilin?”
It was difficult holding the two but he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t save the horses either. They descended, Berka a little higher on a fatter billow but eventually, he could feel the air bubbles touching the ground. He glanced down and saw a somewhat flat surface with a stream running through it.
He dropped them both. Berka yelped as the wind disappeared. The ginger boy landed on his feet but stumbled back and ended up falling. His backside splashed into the stream.
Edin was ready for it and landed fine.
“You could’ve told me you were going to do that.”
“You try concentrating on so many things at once. It’s difficult.”
Berka’s face went slack as he pushed himself out of the water. Edin followed the gaze and saw one of the horses. Or what was left of it.
Edin looked away. The thing was a heap of blood and bone and a pack somehow not destroyed as well. Edin spotted the quarterstaff on it and moved closer. He saw the gray skin and a bit of the white mane. He tried not to think of it as he pulled off the pack and although it didn’t look too banged up, it was covered in blood and guts. It was the same for the quarterstaff.
“How far do you think that was?” Berka asked.
“How would I know? I had my eyes closed so I could concentrate on not dropping you.”
“That’s nice,” Berka said not sounding grateful, “since it was your horse that made mine run over the edge. Damned beast tried following around that thing. What was that thing?”
“A fist,” Edin said. “Or at least that’s what I saw. Maybe a stone giant up there.” Just as he finished saying it, he heard a thunk and a crashing sound from near the ridge.
“I’m not sure it’s up there anymore,” Berka said. He pulled his greatsword.
“Not sure that’ll do much.” Edin said scanning the white blanket, “I think we should run.” They began to head downstream at a jog. He didn’t know where it headed, but with a stone giant behind them anywhere was better than here.
They ran through cold water and on slippery stones. They were stumbling here and there. Luckily, neither sprained or twisted anything.
All around there were the burgeoning fauna, ground covers, mosses, and even a bush beginning to sprout tiny green leaves. After about a half mile they slowed and listened for movement behind them. There was nothing but the stream gurgling.
“Maybe it didn’t follow,” Edin said.
“Maybe,” Berka said with a hesitant timbre.
The fog still hadn’t lifted and they were enclosed in the bubble of little visibility, barely ten feet in any direction. Edin cupped his hands in the water and brought it to his lips. It was icy but refreshing.
Berka shivered. “We should get out of the stream, maybe get to higher ground.”
“Any idea where that is?”
“Well, we are in the mountains, so probably that way.” He pointed one way, then swung his hand around. “And that way and that way.”
“Okay, I get it,” Edin said and they began climbing out of the stream. Then thought about their other companions. “What do you think happened to Grent and Dephina?”
“I don’t know. I thought—” He shook his head. “I didn’t see any sign of them.”
“Me neither. Maybe they got past it.” Edin hoped they got past it.
The bank was low but slick with mud covered rocks. A mouse or something darted under a stone off to the right. Edin kicked a rock and it skittered that way and then clattered down.
They climbed higher. The incline grew until they were using their hands to climb as well. They reached a small shelf after a few minutes and sat.
It was a single piece of rock, nearly flat and clear of foliage. Edin was exhausted from the travel and the outlay of the talent.
“I’m going to try to collect firewood,” Berka said.
Edin raised an eyebrow. “You can’t see far ahead. I haven’t seen any trees of note and even if you collect some, do you have a sparkstone?”
“No, but can’t you just,” he snapped his thumb and forefinger together, “use the magic?”
“There’s no spark. I’d need a spark at least.”
Berka pulled his sword and slammed it into the rock. There was a spark but Edin didn’t grab it in time.
“What the heck, I’m freezing.”
“There’s no wood.”
“Just hold it for a while till I warm.”
“I’m not your personal hearth. You want to keep warm do some jumping jacks,” Edin said. Then he began digging through his pack and found a second tunic. He tossed it to Berka. “Try not to rip it.” He pulled off his damp boots and laid down on the rock.
It was dark when he woke and though the fog was gone, it seemed that the clouds simply took a location much higher in the sky like moving from the castle wall to the highest turret.
One cloud blotted out nearly all of the moon and others covered the stars. He heard movement over his shoulder and glanced in that direction. “Berka?”
“Yeah.” His teeth were chattering and the word was longer than it was supposed to be. “Cold…” Another long word that should’ve been short.
“I can tell,” Edin said. It felt brisk but not that cold, not chattering cold. Even with the dampness of the river it wasn’t that bad.
“Did you find any firewood?” Edin asked.
“No.”
“Jumping jacks?”
“No.”
“Bloody fool.” Edin could only see the dark lump that was Berka. A moment later, he summoned an ethereal ball. Berka was a few yards away and pale, except for a red nose that was as ginger as his hair.
“You got a cold?” Edin asked. “How the heck? You fool.” He sighed and shook his head.
Berka’s eyes were open. They seemed somehow intense and fearful as if he knew he was just about ready to lose his mind because of the weather.
Edin took out Mirage and looked at it. He didn’t want to; it wasn’t what the beautiful weapon was for, but he did so anyway. He slashed it on a dark rock.
The rock split and there was a large spark and Edin was ready this time. He caught it, feeling it in his mind and turning it over and over. Then he let it grow larger. From the spark came an ember, then a flame that rotated a few inches above the ground. Then scooted over on the hard stone to Berka. Edin concentrated on the flame and let it burn as the heat tickled his face and body.
After a while, Berka stopped shivering in almost conjunction with Edin growing tired. He’d held the fire for half an hour or more before he couldn’t continue. He let it go and saw Berka was asleep.
Edin laid down back to back, beside him. There was no way he would cuddle the way he had heard about in the Dancing Crane. No way he’d do what he had done with Arianne in the elfin tower.
Edin fell asleep again and woke when the sun had come out. The fog was burnt off and it felt nice out though Berka still slept. Edin touched his head and felt it burning.
“Blasted, Berka wake up.” He nearly shouted, but his friend didn’t move. He began to look around. It was a rather lush valley in the mountains, or it would’ve been if it was a bit deeper in spring. But for now, there were few plants that were alive and even if he knew what mintweed looked like, he doubted he could find it. That was the only cure he knew for a fever.
There was wood though, driftwood and live trees and dead ones. Edin loo
ked around and saw that the valley wasn’t very wide though the walls were tall, at least two hundred feet tall and they were steep. Edin had no idea where they’d fallen from or where the stone giant was.
Around them, in the walls were caves. Something about the caves though didn’t look right. Edin tilted his head, some of the cracks in the rocks were arches. It was as if they were made by man.
He spotted one not too far. It was about ten yards away and the entrance was a couple yards above the cold stream. Edin crossed the broken landscape to it and sprang inside. The entrance wasn’t tall and he had to duck, but only a few inches to get in and then he summoned an ethereal light.
The tunnel was cooler than outside and narrowed toward the back, though where exactly it stopped, he didn’t know. The light didn’t reach it.
There were boulders of rock lined against the walls, some nearly stool height with flat surfaces. Other scraps sat on the ground; there was fur, bone, dead leaves, and shredded bark that looked to have once been the bed of some animal.
He bent down and touched it. The bed was dry.
To the left he noticed a small nook in the wall. He carefully moved over and found a spot about three feet deep and wide and four feet tall. As he was looking at it, he put his hand against the wall and felt sharp, rough angles and grooves. It was chiseled. This place was man-made.
Edin dropped to his knees and scooted in a bit further. Then other markings caught his eye. They were near chest height and were white and red on the gray stone. They were outlines of beings.
A small stick man appeared next to a big beast on all fours. There was no definition to either but it seemed like the man was cowering. There were circles and sun-like glyphs some small and then a much larger one above the rest.
There was a humanoid figure with pointed ears that stood taller than the man and the beast. This also could’ve been drawn by another artist as they didn’t seem to be part of the same picture, but Edin didn’t think so. This looked like a man had drawn a giant dematian or elf. He guessed the former. And there were other things around.