Shadow and Flame

by Gail Z. Martin

  “It’s harsh, but it’s also beautiful,” Zaryae observed.

  “I guess so. I’ve been more focused on trying to stay alive than appreciating the landscape,” Connor replied. For now, he and Kane hauled the sledges, although before long it would be time to return the task to Borya and Desya. Grimur and Nidhud had gone ahead to scout the trail for predators.

  Connor looked out over the snow, squinting in the perpetual twilight. In the distance, he could see the silhouettes of the mountains that jutted from Edgeland’s snowy plains. The colonists called them the Grief Mountains, and if they had another, official name, no one remembered. Sharp, high, and rocky, the crags jutted into the clouds. Unlike the mountains back on Donderath, no trees covered the slopes of these peaks, nor were there trees anywhere in sight since they had left the ring of forest that surrounded the coast. Icy snow formed an unbroken crust between them and the mountains. The ice crystals glittered in the moonlight, and drifted snow formed frozen waves as far as the eye could see.

  “We’ve been in just as much danger back in Donderath,” Zaryae said. “At least here, we get to be in danger in a new place.”

  Connor gave her a sidelong glance. “I think that’s the strangest reasoning I’ve heard in a long time.”

  They trudged together in companionable silence for a while. Finally, Connor spoke. “Thank you again for patching me back together on the ship. And for helping me with my shielding. I’ve caused you a lot of extra problems.”

  Zaryae chuckled. “I learned about healing by patching up those cousins of mine,” she said with a nod toward the twins, who were still experimenting with their skis. “It’s unfortunate that you have so many opportunities for me to be of help.”

  Connor gave a rueful smile. “You have no idea how unlikely everything I’ve done in the last year has been. Most of the time, I can’t believe most of the things that have happened to me.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, glancing out across the expanse of snow that shone blue in the moonlight. “When our troupe made that last crossing over the Western Plains, my foresight told me that we would see fire and ice. Even so, I could never have really expected all we’ve done since then.”

  “What will you do when it’s all finally over?” Connor asked, finding it easier to fall into a regular rhythm moving across the snow when he did not think so hard about it. “The magic’s finally fixed. The warlords can’t fight over land forever. Sooner or later, they’ll sort out who’s in charge. Things will eventually settle down—I hope. What then?”

  Zaryae shrugged. She reached up to tuck a wisp of dark hair beneath her hat. “If you mean, do I have any special insight into my future, the answer is no. It’s not like knowing in advance how a play or a story is going to end. And most of the time, what I see isn’t really about me, or at least, not just me.”

  “You know, before the night of the Great Fire, I was about the least adventurous person you would have met,” Connor said with a sigh. “I’d been apprenticed to Lord Garnoc from the time I was twelve, largely so my family didn’t have to keep paying to feed, clothe, and educate me. Lord Garnoc was good to me,” Connor recalled. “Even though I was just his assistant, I lived in Quillarth Castle whenever he went to court. I was in the same room with King Merrill more times than I can count. And the food was pretty good,” he added with a laugh. “I never wished for more.”

  “And look at you,” Zaryae replied. “You had a lot more to you than you ever suspected.”

  Connor gave a sharp bark of a laugh. “If I had heard someone tell a tale about adventures like the ones I’ve had, I’d have figured they were making them up.”

  “Circumstances have a way of showing us what we’re made of,” Zaryae said quietly. “We were supposed to play for Lord Corrender at his estate for a month or two, and then work our way back across the plains. I just assumed that was how life would always be, performing anywhere people would pay us, traveling from one place to another. Maybe combining with another troupe someday if Uncle Illarion had brokered a suitable husband for me or wives for the twins.”

  “Did you leave someone behind, when your troupe came east this last time?” Connor was surprised at how much he disliked the thought.

  Zaryae shook her head. “No. I hadn’t been in a hurry to make a match, and by now, I’d be considered a little too old.”

  Connor raised an eyebrow. “You’re at least a few years younger than I am. That’s hardly ‘aged’!”

  Zaryae shrugged. “Out in the Western Plains, things are different. Some of the girls marry not long after their moon days come on them. Most marry young. I wanted to learn more about my magic, and I liked traveling. Fortunately, Illarion didn’t believe in forcing me to accept someone.”

  “I’m glad,” Connor said, and immediately felt his cheeks flush. “I mean, if he had, I would never have met you. And then I’d probably be dead.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. None of that came out the way I meant it to.”

  Zaryae laughed. “Don’t worry. I think I know what you meant. And I’m glad I’ve met you too, Bevin, and not just because I’ve patched you up a few times.” She paused. “It’s only fair for me to ask you the same question. Did you leave anyone behind the night of the Great Fire?”

  Connor shook his head. “No. Not that some of the girls at the castle weren’t pretty. But I was at Lord Garnoc’s beck and call all day and all night, and I didn’t really have much time to myself.” He sighed. “Truth be told, I wasn’t much of a catch, since I had no inheritance or title, being the youngest son. I never really thought much about it, but I really would have had no prospects once Lord Garnoc passed on—and he was up in years. I imagine he would have made provision for me in his will. Perhaps I would have worked for one of the other lords. I’m not sure what would have become of me.”

  “Funny, isn’t it? How you now serve two of the most powerful men in Donderath, and count a warlord—perhaps the next king—as a friend?” Zaryae’s eyes danced with good humor, sparkling with her continual surprise at the workings of the universe.

  “I guess so,” Connor admitted. “Though in the thick of things, more than once, I would have given it all just to wake back up in my bed at the castle and find out it’s all been a dream!”

  Zaryae turned to comment, but before she could speak, the crust of snow cracked beneath her and she vanished beneath the surface with a sharp, frightened shout of alarm.

  “Zaryae!” Connor shouted, managing to come to a halt and stop the sledge he pulled before they neared the lip of the hole. Kane heard his shout and poled over toward him, swearing all the while.

  “Tunnelers. They’re bad news.”

  From down in the passage beneath the snow, they heard a scream. “Get the twins!” Connor snapped. To the Wraith Lord, he added, Help me, please. And before Kane could object, Connor shrugged out of his pack, stepped out of the skis, and jumped into the hole after Zaryae.

  Connor thrust his feet out against the tunnel walls to slow his descent. Once he was no longer in free fall, he jammed knives into the icy walls, one in each hand. With his back against one side of the tunnel and his feet against the other, he used the knives as pitons to aid his descent. He went as fast as he dared, knowing that every second of delay endangered Zaryae. Then again, there’s precious little maneuvering room in here, he thought. I’m not going to help her if I land on her.

  Zaryae screamed again, but the sound was muffled. This portion of the tunnel went almost straight down about fifteen feet, through layers of ice. He remembered the stories Blaine had told about the ‘Hole’ at Velant, an oubliette in the ice. The tunneler had created something similar, an effective way to trap prey.

  Connor landed at the bottom with a soft thump. He had left his pack at the top, but he had a few emergency supplies in the pouches on his belt, including a candle, flint, and steel. In a moment, he had a flame flickering, and saw that from here, the tunnel went off at a right angle.

  “Can you see anything?” Borya shout
ed down.

  “Not yet,” he called up, trying to keep his voice low. “Have a rope ready. I’m going after her.”

  The tunnel walls were covered with stiff black animal hair. The sides of the tunnel showed the claw marks of the beast that dug it, five long, deep scratches in a set. Here at the bottom, the odor was rank, a mix of animal musk, droppings, and entrails.

  A high-pitched shriek sounded from ahead. Connor dropped to his hands and knees, trying to crawl while holding the candle in one hand. Is there any way you can help? he asked the Wraith Lord.

  Not without draining you, which would be better saved for a fight, the Wraith Lord replied. And in such close quarters, I’m not sure what skills I can bring to a struggle that you don’t already possess.

  Resolute, Connor crawled along the fetid tunnel, wincing as the wax burned his fingers. He heard a roar not far in front of him, followed by Zaryae’s scream. He heard scuffling just ahead, and realized that a dark shape was coming toward him in the close confines of the tunnel. Knife ready, he waited.

  “Move!” The voice was Zaryae’s, strained with tension, and she kicked back at him with her boot.

  Not quite sure what to expect, Connor blew out the candle, dropped it into his pocket, and began shuffling out backward. The tunnel was a close fit, and the only way for there to be room for two where the shaft opened to the top was for Connor to prop himself against the two walls with his legs outstretched so that Zaryae could crawl out of the lower tunnel. She was covered with blood, but when he looked closer, he realized that little of it was her own. Zaryae gripped a bloody knife in her hand.

  “It’s wounded, not dead,” she said. “He’ll be after us. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Climb!” Desya yelled. He and Borya held the rope they’d already dropped, while Zaryae went up it hand over hand with agility born of long training.

  A low growl came from the tunnel and the scuttling of claws against hard ice. Just as the twins pulled Zaryae over the lip of the hole, the tunneler burst into the opening.

  “Connor! Climb!” Zaryae pushed the rope over the edge for him to grab.

  The tunneler was wounded. Blood matted its gray and black hair, and a deep gash ran across its neck and right front forepaw. But Connor doubted that its powerful hind legs were impaired, and its long, ratlike snout bristled with sharp teeth. From his awkward position wedged against the sides of the tunnel, he could not fling himself at the rope without dropping low enough for the tunneler to make mincemeat of his legs. Grappling with the tunneler in such close quarters did not look like a winning proposition, even with a wicked blade.

  The tunneler snarled and launched itself at Connor. He scored a cut to the monster’s face, and the beast dropped back with an angry squeal.

  “Bring the rope over to this side,” Connor yelled as he hitched himself up one step at a time, keeping a wary eye on the tunneler beneath him. It turned in circles, eyeing him hungrily, watching for an opening.

  “I’m going to loop it under my arms,” Connor shouted. “When I tell you, haul me up.”

  He leaned forward to slip the rope around his back and slid down the icy shaft several inches. The tunneler saw its chance and leaped, getting a claw into Connor’s calf and opening up a gash. Connor cursed and jammed his knife straight down with both hands, slicing across the tunneler’s skull down to the bone.

  The creature gave an earsplitting shriek that echoed in the icy shaft, but it fell back, splattering the ice with blood. Connor managed to wriggle upward, and got the rope behind him without falling again. The tunneler watched him with baleful black eyes, waiting. Connor made a second pass with the rope, and held on to the end with one hand.

  “Pull!” he shouted.

  Borya and Desya yanked the rope upward. The tunneler gave a scream of rage and leaped again, barely missing Connor’s feet. But this time, the monster dug its claws into the ice, following Connor up the icy shaft.

  If Zaryae hadn’t wounded it, that thing would have me by now, Connor thought. The tunneler favored its wounded leg, but it scrabbled up the tunnel wall almost as fast as the twins were pulling.

  “Pull harder!” Connor yelped, kicking at the monster with his boots. He landed a hard kick to the creature’s bleeding skull with his heel, but the tunneler did not lose its grip, pausing only a moment before continuing its pursuit.

  Desya and Borya hauled Connor over the lip of the tunnel and out onto the snow, pulling so hard they dragged him several feet across the snow when the tension in the rope finally eased. A few seconds later, the tunneler burst over the edge.

  “Gotcha!” Kane brought his sword down just behind the monster’s skull, severing its head. The creature shuddered, and its blood darkened the snow all around the hole in the ice.

  Connor lay panting on the snow. Zaryae ran to him. “Are you crazy?” she snapped, fear and anger glinting in her eyes.

  “Apparently, yes.” Connor unwound the rope from around himself as Borya coiled it back up and looped it over his shoulder.

  Kane strode over. “What in Raka were you thinking?”

  Connor tried to climb to his feet, and staggered with pain from the gash in his leg. Enough adrenaline was pumping through his system that he did not back down. “I was thinking that one of our team was down there with a monster,” he challenged, taking a step toward Kane. “I was thinking that I was the closest one, and that meant it was up to me to help. I was thinking that there was no way I was going to leave Zaryae down there alone. Got a problem with that?”

  Kane pulled back as if to throw a punch, and Connor steeled himself to take it.

  But the blow never came. Kane stood for a second as if poleaxed, and then shook his head and glared murderously at Connor.

  “Apparently I’m not supposed to knock some sense into you,” he growled. “But you got lucky this time. I’ve seen tunnelers rip men apart. Next time, think before you go charging in.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, leaving the others to scramble to keep him in sight. Borya and Desya shouldered into the harnesses for the sledges, and Zaryae looked worriedly at the blood dripping by Connor’s heel.

  “We’ll have every wolf in Edgeland after us at that rate,” she said with a sigh, pausing long enough to put a handful of healing leaves from her pouch against the raw wound and binding it with a strip of cloth.

  “You were quite the hero back there,” she said without looking up as she tied off the bandage.

  “Seems like you already had it well in hand,” Connor replied.

  “Today I got lucky. Tomorrow, maybe not. If I hadn’t managed to get in one good hit, it would have been very different.” Zaryae leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “So thank you.”

  She dusted the snow off of her bloodied coat and stood. “Come on,” she said with a jerk of her head in the direction the others had gone. “We’d better catch up.”

  Kane set a stiff pace, but after several candlemarks of trekking, they arrived at Grimur’s small cabin. “We’ll stay here tonight,” Kane said. He opened the door and stood back so they could enter. “Grimur will be here shortly,” he added.

  The windowless, squat home had been built for one person, and although its occupant cared little about the cold, Connor noted that the cabin had a fireplace and that its log walls did a fair job of making the interior warm enough that they could sleep without worrying about freezing to death. A freshly killed deer hung in one corner, blood draining into a basin. Laid out on a table against one wall was a meal of dried meats, cheese, and bread, along with a bottle of whiskey and a bucket of water. After the danger and exertion of the day’s trek, Connor thought food had never looked so good.

  “So if this is his home, why isn’t he here?” Verran asked, and bit into a piece of meat. “I figured he and Nidhud would be back by now.”

  “They wouldn’t have gone out in high twilight,” Kane replied. “They waited until it was dark. I imagine he wants to make sure we’re as alone as we think we are
,” Kane replied, with an edge that suggested Grimur’s whereabouts were none of Verran’s business.

  “He’s talishte,” Borya said, helping himself to some bread and cheese. “What does he have to worry about?”

  Kane fixed him with a glare. “Talishte aren’t invulnerable, just damn difficult to kill. It pays to keep your eyes open.” He maneuvered around the rest of the group, which had found seats on the floor around the fire to eat. “He’s probably checking for signs of wild animals—or magicked beasts, before we head out tomorrow.”

  Just then, the door opened. Grimur and Nidhud walked in. “Good to see that you’ve arrived,” Grimur said. “I trust the first leg of your journey went well.”

  “We’re still all alive,” Connor replied. “That counts for something.”

  As the others ate, Connor and Zaryae recounted the fight with the tunneler. Grimur and Nidhud listened with concern. “You’ll be less at risk in the terrain tomorrow,” Grimur said. “Today you were crossing a large shelf of ice covered with packed snow. Perfect for tunnelers. Tomorrow, as you head toward the mountains, there’s more rock than ice below the snow, so the tunnelers go elsewhere.”

  “Suits me fine,” Kane said, hanging back against the far wall of the small cabin as if he were intent on not being a part of the group he guided. “Never have figured out a good way to see where those tunnelers have their holes. We were lucky to only hit one today.”

  “What about tomorrow?” Connor asked. “Where are we going, and what might be trying to kill us on our way?” His leg pained him, and after they ate, he hoped to have Zaryae apply her poultices and bind it more securely. Thanks to his bond with Penhallow, he would heal faster than usual, and he was better prepared to ignore the pain. Still, the next few days were likely to be grueling enough that he did not relish the idea of being hobbled, nor to have predators scenting his blood.

  Nidhud chuckled. “Everything in Edgeland is designed to kill you. That’s the nature of this place. But to your point, Arin and I were just scouting the first part of the route to your destination. It doesn’t look like there have been any capreols in the area recently, though there are some old tracks.”