He’d been blinded before, long ago in battle, and knew that though it was an ancient magic, it was only temporary. It was blind luck, no pun intended, that he managed to summon fire so fierce it burned his enemy to ash while waiting for his sight to recover. He stood amid the fierce and roaring cheers of blood-thirsty spectators, feeling glorified and pitiful at the same time, and it took hours before his vision fully returned.
“It could take hours for me to get my sight back,” he finally confessed.
“Then we will wait,” Lorelei decided. “We will stay here, right where we are, and we will wait until you are ready to go forward again.”
“Like sitting ducks?”
“You’re a warrior,” she pointed out haughtily. “You’ll protect us.”
Once more, he muttered things under his breath not meant for her ears, and though Brendolowyn didn’t know if it was the loss of his vision that made his hearing more acute, but he heard what the U’lfer said and it cut him more deeply than he’d ever confess.
“This is probably how I die…”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Again, they were forced to huddle with their backs against the wall, but at least it wasn’t unearthly dark on the mountain floor, and the sweet, salted scent of clean air did wonders for their moods. Amazing, how a breath of fresh air could lift the spirits and make a person feel hopeful again.
Lorelei sat between them, her head rested against the stiff leather shoulder of Finn’s armor and her wide-open eyes staring into that strange, almost otherworldly place. She’d never seen anything like the inside of the mountain. Peculiar flowers with petals as thick and spongy as mushrooms huddled in obscurity, their centers glowing faint blue and lending an eerie quality to the dim light beyond the torches Finn stabbed into the ground to prop them up around them like a force-field of precious light.
He’d finally let himself sleep, losing consciousness shortly after sitting down and tipping his head back into the wall behind him. He hadn’t moved in more than an hour, his mouth hanging slack, a trickle of drool glistening at the corner as he snored softly. Every time his body twitched, nearly jerking awake as if from some horrid nightmare, she reached a hand out to soothe him and he instantly grew still.
She wondered what horrible things he was dreaming about. Sometimes she thought she could feel it, the undercurrent of his fears snaking out to wrap around her insides and squeeze. Death… No, that wasn’t quite right. He wasn’t afraid to die. He was terrified of leaving her alone in the world.
The realization filled her with the strangest emotions, her stomach tightening and clenching, her chest hitching with stifled breath. It made her want to cry, but it also made her glad they hadn’t cemented their bond before coming to Great Sorrow. It was bad enough having to feel the subtle hints of a loved one’s fear; she could only begin to imagine how difficult it would be to stomach if they were mated and privy to every thought and feeling the other endured.
“My lady,” Brendolowyn drew her from her reverie and she glanced over her shoulder to look at him. Eyes closed, he did not turn toward her, only waited for her to acknowledge that he’d spoken. “Is there any water left?”
“No,” she sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”
“I can’t help thinking after having done this time and time again through only the gods know how many cycles we might have thought to better prepare.”
An appreciative laugh scuffed through his dry throat and he shook his head. “How would we prepare? The Alvarii gave us food. We filled our water skins in the spring before coming into the mountain. We could not have known it would take so long to reach the bottom of a mountain it took us less than a day to climb.”
“I don’t know. I just wish… I wish it was easier.”
“If it was easy, we wouldn’t have to keep doing it, Lorelei.”
“I don’t want to have to do this ever again. I don’t even want to do it now.”
“I know it is not easy to convince yourself. Llorveth knows this monster’s power is unlike anything I’ve ever faced, but you cannot allow yourself to lose hope. So much in this world depends on you.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“We never do, and yet we all have our burdens to bear.”
“Am I one of your burdens, Bren?”
He answered quickly, gasping the word, “No,” as if her question was the most absurd thing he’d ever been asked. “That is… No. I could never think of you in that way, no matter how it’s often pained me to…”
“To what?” she asked when he stopped himself and silently refused to go on. “What do I do that pains you? Why won’t you tell me what I did?”
“Because it doesn’t matter, Lorelei. It wasn’t you, not you as you are now.”
“But it was me,” she pointed out. “Everyone in Dunvarak believes it was me.”
“I saw only the briefest glimpse of your face,” he confessed. “It was you who saved us. There is no doubt in my mind.”
“Then it was me who caused you pain, and I would know why so I don’t make the same mistake, Brendolowyn. You are my friend and I care about you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He opened his eyes, squinting them as if testing his vision and then he turned his head in her direction. He still couldn’t see, she could tell by the way the violet orbs with their pin-prick pupils scanned her face as if she were a million miles away and he could barely make her out at that distance.
“I told you already it was my fault Finn did not make it out of the mountain in our past attempts. Yovenna says it was in a fit of jealous rage that I refused to hold out my hand to save him. Maybe that is true, I don’t know. All I know is since you reached through time and spared me from death, I have loved you in ways I should not. You don’t belong to me…”
“I don’t belong to anyone, Bren.”
“That’s… that’s not what I meant. You and Finn… you were meant for each other and I have spent so much time resenting him for that, begrudging him the right to what I thought should be mine, but the truth is if Finn dies and you and I are left together in this world, you will both love and hate me. I can live without your love, but I do not want to live in a world where you hate me.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing for a long time. Finn snored on beside her and Bren stared unseeing into the distance. The world was a cruel place, the gods’ design terrible. Who should have to think about such matters of the heart when there were seemingly far more important things to worry about? And yet, there they were and they felt like they were equally important when held up beside the end of the world. Life was a strange thing.
Finally, she cleared her throat and reached her hand over to clasp his. “I don’t know what really happened in these other lives. Who we were, what things we did or the reasons we did them, they don’t matter to me. All that does matter is this life, the one we’re living right now, and in this life I could never hate you. You are my friend.”
“You say that without hesitation, and yet I still don’t feel like I deserve to be your friend. I have kept things from you.”
“I’m sure you have your reasons.”
“I…” His hesitation hung between them like a ball of energy gathering force and about to explode. “In case we don’t make it through this, all of us, I mean… If something happens to me there is a letter...”
“Nothing is going to happen to any of us. We made a pact. We are all walking out of this mountain, even if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “There is much for you to do beyond this mountain. You have to be strong.”
“I have to find my sister,” she muttered. “I know there is more at stake, but since we came to this place thoughts of her consume me. I can’t help fearing she is in terrible danger. That it’s up to me to save her.”
He said nothing. She didn’t know what she expected him to say, but then Finn stir
red beside her, stretching his legs forward and pushing his back into the stone with a grunt and a groan that steered her from the conversation.
“Oh, good,” he muttered as he drew his arms back in. “I’m still alive. Wasn’t sure I would be.”
“As if I would just allow the drakoren to come and take you while you slept,” she chuckled and turned her gaze on him.
He looked scruffy, to say the least. Beard growth sprouting in disheveled patches on his cheeks, black hair askew. It was long enough to tie back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, but when she suggested it he’d cocked an eyebrow at her and curled his lip in distaste at the very idea. She couldn’t imagine she looked much better. Her hair was greasy and tangled, her armor sweat-stained and she imagined she stunk, too. They’d splashed and washed in the pool but neither of them had a proper bath since they’d left Nua Duaan. The mere thought of one made her whole body tremble regrettably. There was no telling when she’d have chance for another bath. Maybe never.
“What if it took you while I slept?” he wondered aloud. “And I just slept right through the whole thing?”
“That didn’t happen, so let’s not even speculate.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange though, that it’s just sort of left us alone since it blinded the mage?”
“I’m not blind,” Bren insisted. “I just can’t see very well, but it’s getting better. I’m sure it’s studying us, looking for weaknesses to exploit when we finally come face to face with it.”
“I’d like to exploit a few of its weaknesses.”
“I’m sure you’ll have opportunity to do just that in good time.”
“I hope that good time happens soon. I’m getting real tired of this mountain.” He didn’t have to voice the rest of what he was thinking. He was getting tired of waiting around for death. She could feel it. He didn’t want to die, but it felt pointless just sitting there.
“My vision is returning,” the mage assured him. “It won’t be long now.”
And maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn’t long, but it felt like forever. By the time Finn’s sighs grew unbearable, Brendolowyn claimed he could see well enough to move, but the darkness made it hard for him to navigate. The three of them stuck together, holding onto one another as they moved forward into the dank, reeking tunnels leading to the drakoren’s refuge.
Finn led, torch in front to illuminate the passage and Lorelei’s fingers curled tight through one of his armor buckles. Bren’s fingers clutched around her arm from behind, his steps shuffling into hers clumsily as they moved forward at a snail’s pace. None of them were going to be ready if they were attacked, but they forged ahead anyway, nudging one another as needed when hesitation and fear began to overwhelm them.
Approaching the tunnel’s entry, Finn hesitated at the cobwebs. She let go of him, edged past and held her torch to the thick blanket, watching as orange ember burned through the yellowed tangle of web, emitting black smoke as it smoldered and caught flame. They had to step back to give it room, as it spread quickly along the walls, both ahead and behind them, filling the space with unbearable heat and irritating smoke that quickly coated their throats and filled their lungs until they were choking.
It probably wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done. Moments later all three of them were crouched low on the ground as flames lapped the stone and smoke billowed in great plumes toward the open air. She felt like she was cooking inside her armor, as if her lungs themselves were on fire as she hacked and choked through layers of smoke.
And then a great gust of cooling wind swept all around them, turning the moisture in the air to frozen crystals not unlike flakes of snow that whirled and danced as they whooshed after the fire, swallowing and freezing the flames as it overran them. Bren stood above them, drawing his arms back into his body as she craned her head over her shoulder to look at him. The braids of his hair settled in around his face, still wavering gently in the dwindling wind drawing the smoke away from them so they could breathe again.
“Nice move,” Finn hacked into his forearm, words muffled, but still loud and clear. “Though I’m not entirely impressed with Princess’s plan to burn us all to ash so we don’t have face this thing.”
“It was an accident,” she wheezed. “I thought you were worried about… spiders.”
Gods, she wished she had that drink of water more than ever before. Why hadn’t they rationed their resources better?
“Accidents happen,” Brendolowyn agreed, then added, “but let’s not do that again anytime soon. Anymore spider webs and we carve through them.”
“I doubt we’ll find anymore spider webs,” Finn noted. “I think she obliterated every cobweb in this place.”
She felt stupid, at a loss for common sense. It was a well-known fact fire burned in the most dangerous of ways. She didn’t need Master Davan to teach her that, and yet she’d just foolishly set the whole mountain to flame without even thinking it through.
“It’s all right, Lore.” Finn reached out and lowered a hand on her shoulder, a natural response to all the things she was saying only to herself. “It was a mistake. No one got hurt. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
Shrugging off his hand, she took a step forward. She was starting to wonder if she was ever going to get used to him just knowing how she felt; she certainly couldn’t imagine what it would be like when she could feel him in the same way. She had enough trouble dealing with her own thoughts and emotions. Pile his on top of them and she’d be a walking disaster. How did he manage it?
With a weighty sigh, she huffed wisps of lightly singed hair off her forehead and marched into the tunnel. She didn’t know if it was the lingering residue of Brendolowyn’s magic, but the passage grew instantly cold, making goose bumps prickle across the exposed skin of her arms and along the back of her neck. Clearing her raw throat, she tried to ignore the strange feeling accompanying the cold, but it was impossible.
Her mind grappled with sensible thought, but eventually it lost hold and all she could think about was how foolish she was. How she had no business out in the civilized world, among people who actually knew things. She should have stayed in Rivenn, locked in the tower and oblivious to the goings on. She thought she had it so tough under Aelfric’s cold scrutiny, her greatest fear being married off to some fat old slob who’d beat her if she spoke her mind, but she was starting to think anything would be better than rushing through a world she knew nothing about.
And her sister. Gods save that poor child. Mirien was a clever girl, but she was equally naïve. Lorelei kept telling herself she had Pahjah to look after her, but what if they got separated? What if Mirien was out there all alone, scared and afraid and… too stupid to know she needed to find shelter when it rained?
“Hey.” Finn’s gruff interlude into her overwhelming thoughts startled her and she jumped as his hand came down once more upon her shoulder. “Whatever nonsense you’re worrying about, just stop. It’s not real, Princess. It’s part of the monster’s game.”
“My sister is out there, Finn. Maybe alone somewhere. What if she sets some mountain on fire and there isn’t a mage with her to put it out?”
“You said she was with your nursemaid, Pahjah, right?” Turning over her shoulder to look at him, she narrowed her eyes as she lifted them to his face. “Pahjah was a mage, wasn’t she?”
“A long time ago,” she shrugged. “But she was a slave. She’d been collared for decades. What if… what if she’s still collared? What if she can’t remember how…?”
“A mage never forgets how to cast, my lady. Your sister is in safe hands with Pahjah. Even if she is still collared, Pahjah will not let her come to harm.”
“You don’t know that,” she protested.
“When all of this is said and done, we will help you find her, but right now we have to focus on the task at hand.”
“Focus on the task at hand?” she balked. “While the only family I have left in the world is out there. Alone, scared…
helpless…”
“Mirien is not the only family you have left, Princess. You have a brother back in Dunvarak who needs you just as much as your sister. Your nephew is counting on you coming back from this. And… I know we haven’t… We may not have… you know, established the bond between us, but we are family now too. Imagine how mad Viln will be at me if we don’t all make it back from this in one piece.”
“I didn’t…” She hadn’t thought about her brother once since they entered into the mountain. She’d almost entirely forgotten Logren existed at all, that she had a nephew waiting for her to return. She promised him before leaving she would have plenty of stories to tell him when she returned. “I can’t just turn my back on my sister, Finn.” She snapped back to despair almost as quick as thoughts of the rest of her family infiltrated her mind.
“No one is asking you to turn your back on your sister, Lore,” he said firmly. “But you can’t track her down until we get out of here, so let’s focus on that right now. Once we get out of this mountain, I’ll carry you on my gods damned back from one end of Leithe to the other to help you search for her. You have my word.”
“Is she going to be crippled for some reason?” Brendolowyn wondered aloud.
The absurdity of his question had the effect he’d obviously been aiming for, and when she glanced around Finn’s shoulder to look at him, she saw he was grinning.
Finn shrugged, offering, “You never know,” to further lighten the mood.
“When I would allow myself to be overcome by angst, Yovenna used to ask me, ‘Is there anything you can do about this right now?’ If there wasn’t, and I said no, she would then say, ‘Then why waste your energy worrying about it?’ I’m not saying you shouldn’t be worried about your sister, but there is nothing we can do right now. We have to focus on getting out of this mountain with the Horns of Llorveth in hand.”
Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2) Page 53