Everyone gathered around E’enna, who lay barely conscious on the stone floor. Shanks sank to his knees and jerked the silver dagger from her belly. He scooped her up in his arms and cradled her close to his chest, brushing the loose hair from her face.
“Come on then, darlin’, do your thing,” he pleaded with a shudder in his voice. “It’s not more than a flesh wound for you.”
E’enna wheezed loudly just before her head fell limply to the side. Silence fell over the room, and all eyes were fixed on her still body. Kazen’s heart sank lower and lower as the seconds passed. “What is wrong? Why has she not healed herself?”
“Nothing’s wrong!” Shanks snapped heatedly. “She just needs a minute!” The panic was clear in his voice.
Ilagon gently pulled Kazen back a few steps.
“Why is she not healing herself, Ilagon?” Kazen begged, tears swelling in his eyes.
“I do not know. She has already been weakened by the cold, and I do not know what effect the possession of the demon had on her. We can only wait.” He sighed, trying to conceal the waver in his own voice.
The moments passed slowly, and Shanks’ shoulders slumped lower with every passing breath. Kazen found himself unable to control the trembling of his chin as he began to give in to his grief. The static air felt dark and thick, and a wave of nausea overtook him.
A sudden smacking sound broke the solemn silence, and Shanks’ head was tossed to the side. E’enna’s pale hand rose and wielded back to land another blow, but she was instead swept up in Shanks’ jubilant embrace.
“I can’t believe you stabbed me!” she stammered angrily.
Joyful tears streaming down his face, Shanks squeezed her tightly, chuckling with relief. Kazen pounced on top of them, unable to contain his own elation, and hugged E’enna. He even planted a bold kiss on her furrowed brow. Ilagon remained characteristically stoic, only the falling of his tense shoulders revealed his alleviation.
It took quite a lot of apologizing before E’enna finally forgave Shanks. She eventually agreed that it had been the only way to destroy the creature. However, she was quick to point out that, healer or not, she felt pain the same as anyone else, and if there was ever cause for someone to be stabbed in the future, it would be noted that she had already served her turn.
Chapter 16
Despite the night’s events, or perhaps because of it, E’enna soon curled up closely beside Shanks on the floor and fell into a heavy slumber. Wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder, Shanks yawned contently and lay down his weary head. The orange glow of the crackling fire watched over their backs as they slept without care or regard.
Kazen helped Ilagon barricade the wooden door with every piece of furniture they could move. No one would leave the building until sunrise. The table and chairs would have to serve as fuel for the fire if they burned through all the logs.
The two men sat in silence, watching over their sleeping companions. Kazen wanted to use the time to apologize to Ilagon for striking him, but he felt so foolish about the whole thing. He should have known that Ilagon would never act in such a manner. But even more disconcerting was that he had lost his temper again. It had gotten him into trouble in the past, and if he weren’t careful, it could be a danger to him in the future. In any case, considering all that had happened, Ilagon looked none the worse for wear. Although Kazen saw him more than once run his tongue over the split in his bottom lip.
As the hours dwindled by, Kazen’s eyelids grew heavy under the mesmerizing glimmer of firelight, and he found himself struggling to remain alert. Soon, even keeping his head upright became an arduous chore. In his sleepy haze, the steady creaking of Ilagon’s rocking chair was like a siren’s song, luring him deeper and deeper into a wistful fog. Finally, unable to keep his head from nodding, Kazen convinced himself that he would just rest his aching eyes for a moment. When he finally awoke from his “moment,” light was streaming in under the crack of the door. The fire had long since gone out, leaving the room bitterly cold.
E’enna and Shanks still lay on the floor, shivering before the expired embers. Ilagon, too, had apparently nodded off, his hood pulled down over his eyes. Kazen snapped the legs off his own chair as quietly as he could, and used them to start a new fire. The rekindled flames crackled and snapped on the dry pine, rousing the others awake.
E’enna spent much of the morning healing frostbitten fingers and toes. Despite his protest, she insisted on healing Kazen’s sore shoulder as well. He hated the fact that healing him caused her pain. Though he had to admit, not having the throbbing ache in his shoulder was quite a relief.
No one was in a hurry to head back out into the chilling cold, but morning was fading, and they would have to press on. After warming their bellies with hot tea, and eating a hearty breakfast of cheese and bread, they bundled themselves under layers of leather and fur. Although they had lost much of their supplies in the avalanche, they were able to gather a decent amount of provisions from the abandoned house. Stuffing their packs with as much food as they could find, they reluctantly broke down their barricade and opened the wooden door.
Wind and snow barreled through the open doorway. Cold air swept over them like a rushing tidal wave, stealing their breath. Hair and eyelashes were crusted with ice almost immediately, and fingers and toes could find no comfort from the bitter wind. The daylight stung their sensitive eyes, which had become accustomed to the dimness of the windowless hut. Drifts of snow had mounted high overnight, covering their previous tracks and burying the bodies of the dead men. The blizzard had lightened to an icy spray, revealing the towering peaks that stood guard over the tiny village.
Trudging through knee-deep snow, the company marched along the most eastern trail, which had been almost completely buried by the windblown drifts. But the way was marked well enough by the tall wooden lampposts, unlit, but visible even in the deepest snow. Arriving at the eastern wall, they were perplexed to find no steps, ledges, or even a lip wide enough for a man to stand on. All had thought that surely this path would lead to a pass over the wall, since it would seem to have no other purpose. Undaunted, they turned north, following the ridge in its shallowest direction. Hours passed, and still there was no path to be found. They searched until their bodies ached from the cold. Defeated, they had no choice but to retreat back to the abandoned house.
“Confound this place!” Shanks grumbled, tossing his coverings to the floor. “Is there no way out of this frozen tomb?”
Kazen tossed an armful of logs into the stone hearth. The room was quick to warm up, but everyone’s mood remained sullen.
“We may have to face the fact that backtracking could be our only option,” Ilagon said. “Part of the pass over the west wall has been destroyed, but with steady ropes and a few secure footholds, we could make it back up again, I am sure of it.”
Kazen found the very idea ludicrous. “We cannot go back! If we are lucky, it would still take us a day to climb the wall. And then, who knows how many days out of our way we would have to go to find a path around this canyon. It could mean the death of us!”
“Or we can spend a month looking for a path over the east wall that may not exist,” Ilagon retorted. “I do not like the thought of falling back any more than you do, but we may not have a choice.” He scratched at his chin, thoughtfully. “Either path leads us through obstacles and unwanted delay. While time seems to stand still beneath the snow and ice, beyond the mountains the days grow short and the shadows grow long. We cannot afford the delay of searching for a way over the eastern wall. What say you, Shanks?”
“We know, at least, that there exists a path to the west.” Shanks nodded thoughtfully. “I say we will make better time on a long trail we have seen, rather than on a short one we may never hope to find.”
“E’enna?” Ilagon motioned to her.
Tapping her knee, E’enna stared apologetically at Kazen. “I think we should take the western path.”
Kazen slumped down on t
he floor in front of the fire.
“Then it is settled,” Ilagon said. “In the morning we make our way back over the west wall.”
Kazen grudgingly accepted a plate of food from E’enna, and sat alone by the fire, nibbling halfheartedly on the bitter bits of dried fruit. He knew that the others were probably right. There did not seem to be any way over the eastern wall. But his heart was telling him that there had to be a way. Like a dog nipping at his heels, he could feel time closing in behind him. Falling back and losing so many days would be the doom of their quest.
The next morning, daylight once again crept timidly through the crack of the wooden door. Drifts of snow gathered on the outer doorstep, muffling the already muted sunlight. Kazen was first to rise. Tiptoeing quietly to the door, he peeked a bleary eye out into the cold. He was pleased to see that the snow had finally stopped falling.
“How is it?” E’enna yawned, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
Kazen jumped at the sound of her voice. “It’s good . . . Well, not good . . . Better, I suppose. The storm seems to have passed, at any rate.”
“I’m almost sorry I asked. You’re a little jumpy this morning, aren’t you?”
“I suppose I am,” he grunted.
The others began to stir, stretching and yawning under their thick blankets. Kazen set out a healthy portion of rations on the table for everyone, and pulled the iron kettle of water off the fire.
Sliding into a chair beside the table, Ilagon winced as his hot cup of tea touched his lips. “We will make a quick check in the other buildings before we set off. I would feel better if we could find a bit more length of rope. A few more skins would come in handy, as well. With any luck, we can be up the wall by this afternoon.”
“No,” Kazen muttered softly.
“What was that?” Ilagon asked.
“No,” he answered a bit more resolutely. “We cannot go around the valley. We must go through it, to the east.”
“Kazen,” Ilagon started, sighing, “we have already been through this. Our best chance is to backtrack a day or two and find a way past this canyon. It has already been decided.”
“But it is the wrong decision,” Kazen argued, his mouth suddenly dry as he forced himself to stand firm. “We cannot fall back to the west. At least, I cannot. Every part of my being is being called to the east. There is a way over that wall, I can feel it.” Exhaling heavily, he tapped his fingers uneasily on the table as he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. “I don’t know much about the people who used to live here, but I can tell they did not waste their energy on anything frivolous, and they certainly would not waste a commodity as precious as wood when their very lives depend on burning it for heat. Each one of those lampposts out there could probably keep a family warm for a week. They mark important pathways. The path we followed in from the west was marked by them, and the path we followed yesterday to the east was surely leading us to a way over the east wall.”
“But we tried that path,” E’enna argued. “It was a dead end.”
“Then we missed something,” Kazen contended. “The path must branch off in a different direction. Some posts may have been blown over in a storm. But these mountain folk would not have gone to the trouble of forging that path without reason.”
“Unless they just never got around to hewing a path up the side of that wall,” Shanks said. “I’m sure a mountain man’s fingers numb just as well as a flatlander’s does. And, if I lived here, I might decide that rather than spending my days shivering out in the cold and hammering on rock, that I might be just as well with only one path up the west wall.”
Kazen shook his head. “They’re too smart for that. They’ve survived here too long to trap themselves in this valley with only one way out.”
“What are you suggesting, Kazen?” Ilagon asked.
“That we try the eastern wall one last time. We’ll walk the path more carefully this time; make sure we don’t miss anything. If nothing else, we can check the south slope of the ridge and be sure.”
Ilagon rubbed his hands tiredly over his face and glanced over to Shanks and E’enna, who shrugged in silent answer to his questioning gaze. “All right,” he sighed, turning his eyes back to Kazen. “If you feel that strongly about it, we will try east one last time.”
Relieved, but a bit unnerved by the weight of his friends’ trust he now carried with him, Kazen tried to act as unaffected as he could. “All right, then,” he uttered with contrived confidence. “We go east.”
They wasted little time in finishing their breakfast and gearing up for the hike. After dousing the fire, they were out the door and bound for the eastern wall with Kazen at the lead.
The snowdrifts were deep and soft, making walking a difficult task. However, with the blizzard diminished and the winds dying, visibility was greatly increased. They followed the post-lined path with careful steps, being sure they did not miss any obscure trails that might jut off to the north or south. But before long, they found themselves, once again, standing in front the sheer, insurmountable rock face.
“I think we should split up,” Kazen said, trying to conceal the uncertainty in his voice. “E’enna and I will follow the wall south. You two head north, make sure we didn’t miss anything yesterday. These walls can be deceiving; what looks like flat surface from a distance might be a footpath up close. We will meet back here in two hours. If there is a path, it should not be too far from the village.”
Ilagon and Shanks nodded, and immediately bounded off to the north. E’enna and Kazen began following the wall southward at an urgent pace.
Huffing and puffing as he jogged through the heavy snow, Kazen ignored his aching lungs, which labored against the frigid air. His eyes darted desperately over the looming wall, searching for any hint of a pathway. With every minute passed, and every step taken, his heart sank lower and lower. He began to wonder if he had made a terrible mistake. What if it was not instinct that drove him to the east, but foolishness instead?
On and on the valley stretched, the highest peaks of the canyon walls lost in the grays and blues of stagnant clouds. Snow and ice smothered the land under its bitter shroud. Though no sun could be seen through the thick haze, the light of its rays endured, often glaring blindingly off the smooth sheets of compacted snow. Long daggers of icicles stretched down from rocky overhangs like spindly fingers, and clumps of sticky snow clung to the cliff side, forming faces that frowned down on Kazen and E’enna.
They trudged along, straining against the thigh-high drifts, even as their legs wobbled with fatigue. Forced to stop and catch his breath, Kazen ran his hand over the icy rock. He cursed aloud between gasps of air, damning the wall and himself.
“We have to turn back, Kazen,” E’enna said. “There is nothing here.”
Kazen bowed his head. “How can I go back? They trusted me and I have let them down.”
“They will still trust you,” she assured him. “Just as I do. Besides, they may have found a path to the north.”
Nodding his head halfheartedly, Kazen started back towards the village. As they neared the town, he could see Ilagon and Shanks already waiting for them. He could tell by the expectant look on their faces that they had no better luck at finding a path.
“What have you seen to the south?” Shanks hollered as they drew closer.
Unable to speak, and unwilling to raise his head, Kazen just shrugged his shoulders. E’enna’s words stung as she explained that they had found nothing to the south. Kazen did not need to look up to see the disappointment in their faces. The whistling wind concealed the anguished silence that fell upon them all.
“The day is still young,” Ilagon insisted with exaggerated confidence. “If the weather holds, we may still make it over the west wall by nightfall.”
Shanks put a steady hand on Kazen’s shoulder. “It was worth the try, lad.”
So they started off for the west wall, leaving Kazen lingering behind. He glared wrathfully at the snow-crusted wall. How
could he have been so wrong? Every part of his being was driving him to the east. He felt a fool, betrayed by his own instincts. What’s worse, he had caused his company to waste energy and precious time on his foolish venture.
Filled with frustration and rage, Kazen raised his clenched fists to the air, cursing the mountain and all its misery. It should be right here! he grumbled to himself, looking back over the valley and tracing the trail of lantern posts. Every other path had a purpose. That one there led to the western pass . . . That one led to the mule stables . . . Over there, that one led to the privies. Every trail of posts led somewhere but this one.
Staring up at the smooth, unpathed mountain wall, he felt as though he had been robbed of some victory. “It should be right here!” he finally bellowed aloud. Utterly frustrated, he kicked fiercely at the snow, promptly smashing his foot on a hidden rock and sending a jolt of pain shooting through his foot. The pain only fueled his anger. He reached under the snow and ripped the rock from the frozen ground. With a growl, he hurled the rock defiantly at the snow-covered wall. But, instead of cracking against the side of the wall, the rock disappeared into the snowy cliff face with a muffled thud. Kazen stared with puzzlement at the hole left behind by the rock. Approaching the wall, he stuck his hand into it. He was astonished that his arm passed all the way through. Suddenly filled with nervous excitement, he began digging at the snow.
“Ilagon!” he yelled.
The others hurried back to Kazen’s side. They watched as he wrestled aside a mound of snow, revealing a large opening in the cliff side.
“Is that a cave?” E’enna asked.
Kazen grinned in satisfaction. “I think it’s a tunnel! A passageway through the mountain!”
Indeed, the tunnel did seem to stretch deep into the mountainside. Tall enough for a large man to stand erect and nearly twice as wide, it was likely a well-used passage. Bored through solid stone, the walls of the tunnel were rippled with the chisel marks of a hundred generations.
The Flame Weaver Page 20