James can’t help but thinking about the army behind them. He doesn’t believe they gave up on them, but there has been no sign of them since they initially fled into the forest. He would have thought they would have caught up to them by now. Not even the faintest trace of the tingle which indicates magic in the area has come to him.
He walks around the camp to keep awake, occasionally throwing another log on the fire to keep the cold of night at bay as best he can. During his second trip around the camp, he sees Jiron get up from where he’d been lying and come over to him.
Jiron indicates for them to move away from camp with a nod of his head and they move out away from the camp so they won’t wake Aleya. When the darkness of night envelopes them, Jiron stops and asks, “Do you think that warrior priest behind us is still there?”
“I don’t know,” replies James. “I haven’t felt anything since we fled into the mountains. Usually I can always feel something whenever one of them is around, at least I did when around Abula-Mazki. Why?”
“It just doesn’t feel right,” he says. “All the other times they’ve pressed with great vigilance, but not this time.”
“I know, it’s got me worried too,” admits James. “But whatever the reason, I’m just thankful they’re not trying to kill us right now.”
“True,” he agrees. “Can you find out where they are with that mirror thing you do?”
“Not now,” he explains. “I wouldn’t dare. If by chance they had lost us in the forest, then all I would be doing is sending a beacon telling them exactly where we are. Besides, in the trees it’s hard to locate anything the way I do it.”
“Alright,” he says, somewhat disappointed.
“Go back to sleep,” James tells him. “I’ll be getting you up soon enough.”
Jiron nods as he returns to his blanket on the ground.
The following morning she again sets a quick pace. “I’d like to reach the beginning of the stairs before nightfall,” she explains.
“Why?” James asks her.
“There’s a good spot there to make camp and that will ensure we’ll be well rested when we begin the climb tomorrow,” she tells him. “It’s a long ways up.”
Jiron grins when James gives out with a groan, pats him on the back and then hurries after Aleya as she disappears between the trees.
James follows his friend and they quickly catch up with her. The downward slope leading to the floor of the valley is gradual and he finds it quite easy to navigate. At one point during the morning, they begin coming across blocks of stone that look to have at one time been part of a structure.
“There are ruins throughout this valley,” she remarks after passing several clusters of them. “Sometime way in the past there used to be a city here.”
“Wonder what happened to it?” James asks.
“Who knows?” she replies.
The path they’ve been following slowly begins to resemble a road of sorts, though it’s completely overgrown with vegetation. If it wasn’t for the fact it runs straight and is relatively level, he wouldn’t even have know it existed.
As they continue progressing further into the valley, the ruins become more pronounced. Aside from the moss covered stones they at first had encountered, they now begin to come across pieces of statues and other sculptures whose features have been worn away by time.
One large statue of what might once have been a man had long ago fallen across the road. They have to scramble over it in order to continue.
“This road we’re on leads directly to the beginning of the stairs,” she tells them.
At one point they must’ve reached what used to be the city center of that long ago town. From out of the vegetation on the side of the road, broken walls can be seen. None are very high but the number of them suggests this had been a populated place at one time. In what could’ve been the courtyard of a building of importance, they find what has to be the remains of a once exquisitely crafted fountain. It doesn’t look so much as worn with time as being smashed to bits with hammers or something similar. James wonders what could’ve happened here. Within what would’ve been several city blocks of the courtyard, other evidence corroborates the theory that this area was destroyed intentionally rather than by time.
About midday, she calls for a lunch break near a fallen column.
Glad for the rest, James settles down on the column while they have a quick bite. The rest break is all too short before she once more gets them moving. A little after noon they reach the bottom of the valley.
In the distance ahead of them, the stairs begin to be visible. At first a jagged line going up the side of the ridge, then as they move closer, they are better able to make out the individual steps.
It isn’t long before the road begins going up the other side of the valley. “It isn’t that far now,” she tells them. “About another couple of hours and then we’ll be able to rest before the big climb tomorrow.”
“Good,” huffs James. Going uphill is decidedly less easy than going down. He maintains the pace she sets and by the time they get to the campsite, his legs are feeling quite numb and it’s all he can do just to keep putting one in front of the other.
Jiron on the other hand seems completely unaffected by the rigorous pace set by Aleya. When they come to a small ring of stones which has served as a fire pit in the recent past, Jiron sets to collecting wood for the fire while James collapses on the ground. Aleya again goes in search of dinner.
After collecting enough wood to last through the night, Jiron builds a fire in the fire ring. They have a good sized blaze going before long and they sit and wait for the return of Aleya. From where their camp lies, they’re able to see the beginnings of the steps leading up to the top of the ridge. It must have taken some doing to carve them out of the side of the mountain like that. A level space had been cleared before the steps, seven tall spires of stone stand as sentinels.
The light slowly begins fading as the sun falls further behind the ridge to the west. After a half hour they begin to worry about her. “She should’ve been back by now,” Jiron says, concern in his voice.
“Yeah, she’s never taken this long,” agrees James.
Standing up, Jiron calls out. “Aleya!” When no answer is forthcoming, he says, “I’m going to go search for her.”
“I’ll go with you,” James says as he gets to his feet.
With Jiron in the lead, they head out of the camp, following the same general direction that Aleya had taken. Her footprints are readily visible in the soft dirt and they’re able to follow them quickly.
“ Help!” they hear her cry from up ahead.
“That’s her!” exclaims Jiron. Knife in hand, he rushes forward with careless abandon, James right behind.
“Aleya!” he cries out as he races through the brush ahead of them.
A large log has fallen across the game trail that she had been following and without even slowing, Jiron vaults over it.
Aaaiiiiiiiieeeee!
James comes to a quick halt when he hears Jiron cry out. Coming to the log, he picks up a rock from off the ground and cautiously peers over the top. A steep ravine falls away on the other side and he sees Jiron picking himself up off the ground from where he landed after sailing over the log. Several new scrapes and cuts are testament to the haphazard way in which he landed on the far side.
Just beneath the log, he sees Aleya lying upside down on the edge of the ravine, her bow lying below her down on the bottom. From the angle she’s laying, it looks like her foot has gotten wedged in between some roots and hanging upside down like that, has been unable to free it.
“What happened?” James asks as he cautiously makes his way over the log.
Looking rather embarrassed, she says, “I was climbing over the log when my foot slipped in between these roots and I lost my balance and fell.”
Jiron comes up from the bottom and supports her shoulders while James works her foot out from between the roots. As her foot sl
ips free, Jiron helps her to stand.
Testing it with her weight, she says, “I don’t think it’s broken.” They help her back up to the top after which, Jiron returns to the bottom of the raving to retrieve her bow. When he returns it to her, she gives him a smile and says, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies.
“You didn’t hurt yourself when you flew over the top did you?” she asks.
“No,” he says.
“We thought you were in trouble,” explains James.
“I appreciate you coming to find me,” she says.
The light is starting to fade so she returns with them to the camp where they have another meal of cold, stale rations. Still, it’s better than nothing.
Chapter Twenty One
Standing there the following morning at the beginning of the stairs with the seven stone spires rising around him, James looks with trepidation at the climb he’s about to embark upon.
Jiron comes up behind him and lays his hand on his shoulder. “It’s not going to be so bad,” he says.
“I hope not,” he replies.
Stepping upon the first step, Aleya glances to them and says, “There are several areas along the way where we can rest if you need to, but we really should try to make it all the way to the top by nightfall.”
Sighing, he says, “Lead on.” He approaches the stairs with Jiron beside him and begins the climb. Aleya takes the steps at an even and steady pace.
After only a hundred feet, he begins to feel the strain of the climb as his legs start protesting. And when they come to the first resting spot the builders had constructed for the weary traveler, he collapses on the ground. His legs are already tired and beginning to burn from the exertion.
A broken pile of stone shows where a bench had once rested long ago. James doesn’t care, he just lies down on the flat ground to the side of the stairs and hopes his legs calm down before they resume the climb.
Jiron goes to the edge of the overlook and gazes out across the valley. “We’ve already come a ways,” he says to James.
Coming to stand beside him, Aleya takes in the panorama of the valley laid out before them. “Beautiful,” she says. “If I’d known it was like this, I would’ve done this long ago.”
After he’s rested a moment and his legs have stopped their aching, James gets to his feet and comes over to stand next to them. Indeed, the view is breathtaking. Looking hard, he can make out the ruins nestled in amongst the trees. If he didn’t know they were there, he probably wouldn’t have noticed them.
“James!” Jiron exclaims as he points to a clearing near the middle of the valley.
Squinting against the morning light, he’s able to make out shapes down there. Hundreds of them moving in their direction. “I guess they didn’t give up.”
“No,” comments Aleya, “It doesn’t look like it.” Grabbing her bow from where it sits propped up against the broken pieces of the bench, she says, “We better move.”
Resuming the climb with renewed determination, James doesn’t get very far before he begins feeling the tingle of someone doing magic. It’s not very strong but it’s there. A shadow blots out the sun for just a moment and he looks up to find clouds rolling in at an unnatural speed.
“What’s going on James?” Jiron asks from where he’s paused several steps ahead of him, looking at the sky.
Turning his attention to Jiron, he says, “He’s calling clouds to the area.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Don’t know,” he replies. “But I doubt if it’s for our benefit. We better get up and off these stairs fast.”
Aleya is further up and has paused when she realizes they’ve stopped. “Come on!” she hollers back down to them. “We’re halfway there.”
With a groan, James gets his fatigued legs moving.
Sitting at the top of the ridge is what looks to be a broken watchtower, probably at one time having stood guard over this way into the valley. By the time they’ve reached the next rest area, soldiers can be seen at the bottom of the stairs where they’re beginning the ascent. Above them, the ruins of the watchtower stand silent vigil over the events below.
The side of the ridge begins to rise more severely as the stairs continue to wind their way along its face. One more rest area between them and the top, Aleya has already reached it and is waiting there for them to catch up.
James is having a hard time, his legs are beginning to become leathery from the incessant climbing. When Jiron is about to the rest area he glances back down to find James still quite a ways below them. Down at the base of the stairs is a veritable swarm of black shapes waiting their turn to begin ascending the stairs in pursuit.
He rushes back down to where James is huffing and puffing. Grabbing his arm he cries out, “We don’t have all day!”
“I know,” James wheezes, thankful for the aid. With Jiron’s help he manages to make it to the rest area and collapses.
“We can’t stay here!” Aleya confronts him as he lies on his back, trying to get his wind back and calm the complaints his legs are sending him. Above them, the cloud cover is steadily increasing as more and more stream in from every direction. Within the dark, churning mass above them, they begin to see bursts of light as lightning flashes. The wind begins to pick up as it whips against their exposed position on the ridgeface.
Flash! Boom!
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning strikes the ridge not far from them. The concussion of the blast knocks Aleya and Jiron to the ground. The spike in the tingling sensation just prior to the flash tells James this was no accident. Struggling against his protesting body, he gets up off the ground as the others do the same.
“He’s calling the lightning!” James yells to Jiron. The wind whipping the side of the ridge almost taking his words away.
“Who is calling the lightning?” Aleya yells, both anger and fear present in her voice. She looks from one to the other, “Just who are you two?”
Putting his arm under James’ for support, Jiron helps him as they begin climbing the rest of the way to the top. Aleya follows behind them, arrow knocked in her bow, more for comfort than actually thinking it will be useful in this wind.
She grabs Jiron’s shirt and asks, “What is going on?”
Over his shoulder, he yells to be heard over the wind, “We got a Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li after us!”
“What’s that?” she asks, never having heard of one.
“Tell you later,” he yells.
As they’re moving further up the steps, James has been trying to determine which way the polarity for the lightning is going. He finally believes he has it figured out when the tingling spikes yet again.
Concentrating on a point twenty yards to the side, he releases the magic and creates a severe polarity discrepancy.
Flash! Boom!
Again, the lightning flares from the sky. The bolt strikes the spot where James had increased the polarity to attract it. As the concussion knocks him down, a memory comes to him of a time back in school in Miss Anderson’s Weather and Climate class when Dave had complained about having to learn about polarities. He can still hear him moaning, ‘When am I ever going to need this stuff anyway?’
Picking themselves back up, James glances back to the mass of men swarming up the stairs. He knows the warrior priest is down there with them and hopes he doesn’t figure out how James is redirecting the lightning. You’re going to have to do better than that!
Jiron again lends a shoulder as they once more press for the top. The stairs here for the last hundred feet are ascending up an almost vertical slope. The sides are almost sheer, the drop below easily over a thousand feet.
Chink!
Something strikes the steps near James’ foot. “Above us!” he hears Aleya cry out.
At the top of the stairs, a line of crossbowmen stand arrayed, their crossbows aimed at them. Another crossbow bolt strikes the cliff face right next to Jiron. Fortunately the whipping of the wind is ma
king it all but impossible for them to maintain any sort of accuracy.
Aleya raises her bow and fires, but the wind is blowing too hard for it to maintain a true path and her arrow is blown off course. The crossbowmen above them have the wind going their way, so even if they have limited accuracy, they at least have the added speed and distance.
As one, James watches them raise their crossbows to fire. Releasing the magic, he creates a barrier to ward off the bolts just as another spike in the tingling sensation occurs. Dividing his attention, he tries to maintain the barrier as they release their bolts while at the same time creating another disparity in the polarity to draw off the lightning.
Flash! Boom!
The lightning strikes the ridgeline further away than the last time, yet the concussion still manages to knock Aleya off her feet.
As the bolts fly toward them, James maintains the barrier. Aleya looks at the barrage of bolts coming their way, and even though the wind will reduce their accuracy, that many on the way can’t be anything but bad. Seeing her death coming toward her, she watches in shock as they seem to strike something and are deflected away.
Jiron looks at the crossbowmen above them who’re raining down bolts as fast as they can load them. Then he glances below him where the soldiers there have already reached the first rest stop and are closing the distance rapidly to the second.
He turns to James and yells over the roar of the wind, “Can you distract those on top for a moment or two?”
Aleya overhears him and asks, “How can he do that?”
Ignoring her, James says, “Maybe. It’s all I can do just to keep deflecting the lightning and maintain the barrier. What do you plan to do?”
Leaning close so he can hear, Jiron lays out his plan.
James looks at him and nods, “I think I can help with that, just give me a moment.”
“Okay,” says Jiron. Then looking down at the men coming up the stairs he says, “But don’t take too long.” Turning to Aleya, he says, “Stay with him. Keep him safe, he’s our only hope.”
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