Respect for Telenar kept N’vonne’s mouth shut. Were it any other man, she would have torn him apart for demeaning her student. But Telenar was as close to a father as Vancien had at the moment and they would have to work it out themselves. Nevertheless, the incident hung like a cloud over them for the rest of the day.
By late afternoon, they had journeyed past the most dangerous regions. The blizzard that had assaulted them the day before was nowhere to be found. Their greatest difficulty now was pushing through the waist-deep snow. If Corfe was behind them, he did not show himself, and by evening’s fall, Vancien was beginning to think Telenar had been mistaken.
They were almost to another small campsite when N’vonne’s voyoté stopped and began to whimper. Vancien and Telenar were a few paces ahead, lost in their frosty silence. N’vonne had to call to them twice before they turned.
“What is it?” Telenar replied, alarmed.
“It’s Cetla. She won’t move forward and she’s whimpering.”
Both men dismounted and started to come to her when Cetla began to bark and snarl at them.
“What the—?”
“Shh, Vance,” Telenar hissed, stopping immediately. “She’s telling us to stay back.”
Indeed, both Lansing and Nagab were eying their comrade with concern but still keeping well away. N’vonne’s pallor matched the snow as she watched her friends watch her.
“What should I do?” she whispered.
“Nothing,” Telenar responded. “Just stay on her and wait. She feels something around or underneath her. Don’t worry, she’ll know the best way to make it out.”
His words did little to comfort her as she listened to the voyoté’s whine. Cetla seemed as unsure as her rider. After a few seconds, she slowly allowed one paw to push forward through the snow, then another.
Telenar watched anxiously. “It’s sheetrock,” he whispered. “See how she’s moving? There’s sheetrock under that snow and it could give at any moment.”
Vancien held his breath and prayed as he watched the pair inch slowly forward. They could now hear the groaning of the ground beneath them. Then the groaning turned to a muted roar as the mountain began to open up. Snow rushed past Cetla’s hind end as she slipped into the cavity, N’vonne with her.
“Grab her!” Telenar yelled, springing forward and landing on his chest, arms clutching the panicked voyoté’s neck. Vancien slid past them to the edge of the crevice, furiously groping for N’vonne. Thankfully, she was still there, clutching Cetla’s waist. Below her there was nothing but empty air a hundred paces down.
“Vance!” she cried, legs swinging in vain for something to support her.
“Hold still! There’s nothing around you to stand on, and if you swing, you’ll drag Cetla down.”
Obediently, she hung limply. “I can’t hold on too long, Vance. My shoulder’s hurt, and—”
“Shh! It’s okay. We’ll get you.”
“Vance!” Telenar shouted from the animal’s head, his voice muffled and terrified. “Is she there?”
“Yes, but I can’t get her! Pull Cetla out!”
A few grunts could be heard, but the voyoté didn’t move. Then again from the head, “I can’t! She’s too heavy. And she can’t use her back legs to push.”
Meanwhile, all three animals had begun a pained whimpering that only made communication more difficult. Vancien turned backed to N’vonne.
“Okay, how are you holding up?”
She shook her head. “Not good, Vance. It’s my shoulder.”
He stretched out his arms, but he could only grab her clothing, which would tear easily. And he couldn’t risk her hold on Cetla by grabbing her arms. Restraining an exclamation, he ordered her to hold on and slid backwards past Telenar.
“What are you doing?” Telenar barked as he saw him. “You’re leaving her?”
Vancien did not respond as he ran to the other voyoté and tore through their packs until he came up with the rope he wanted. Lashing it first to Lansing, then to Nagab, he tied it around his own waist and ran back to the edge of the chasm. . .and over.
N’vonne screamed as he fell past her, instinctively throwing out her arms to catch him. The rope tautened as Lansing and Nagab held their ground, and Vancien just barely caught her by the waist as she tumbled by. They hung there in a second of stunned silence as Cetla, suddenly free of her burden, scrambled to the surface. They could hear Telenar swearing and shouting from the ledge. His head appeared as nothing more than a dark circle against the clear sky when he peered down.
“Vance! N’vonne! Great Kynell, are you there?”
“We’re here!” Vance shouted back, clutching N’vonne with all his might. “Pull us up!”
Telenar’s head disappeared as he hurried to urge the two voyoté forward. Slowly, the distance between the surface and the danglers shortened. In a few moments, they were only four handbreadths from the top when the pressure of the rope and its weight against the remaining sheetrock forced it to give way a second time.
Both of them screamed as they plummeted further into the abyss. With a surprised yelp, Lansing and Nagab were jerked backwards, almost into the cavity themselves. Training and strength rushed in, however, and they regained their footing enough to stop the plunge and pull forward again.
Beside himself with fear, Telenar rushed to the edge. “Vance! N’vonne!”
Twenty feet below the surface and swinging wildly, the two did not at first respond.
“Vance! N’vonne! Talk to me!”
Struggling to keep a hold of N’vonne, Vancien could only manage a muffled “Busy!”
Telenar almost cried in relief. “Okay! The boys have their footing! We’re pulling you up!”
Soon, the only sound that could be heard was the hiss of the rope over now-solid rock and the growling and grunting of the voyoté as they strained.
In a few more moments, Telenar was grabbing N’vonne by the waist and hauling her to safe ground. Vancien managed to scramble up without help, but N’vonne was almost unconscious from the pain in her shoulder.
“It’s dislocated.” Telenar whispered, hastily laying her down and wrapping her with his cloak. “Are you okay, Vance?”
He managed a nod.
“Good. Because that was a stupid stunt you pulled back there. You almost killed yourself and her.”
Vance couldn’t believe his ears. “It was the only way, Telenar! I couldn’t reach her from the top and there wasn’t any time.”
But it was too late. His friend’s terror was voicing itself in unreasonable anger. “Shut up, Vance. You saved N’vonne, but you were foolish! If you ever do anything so dumb again, I swear I’ll—”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Vancien snapped, getting to his feet. “You won’t have to worry about it.” Without another word, he stalked off, incredulous at Telenar’s behavior. But Telenar paid him no attention. N’vonne was getting paler by the moment, and if he failed to do something, she might go into shock.
Shaking her good shoulder, he leaned close. “N’vonne! N’vonne! Come back to us.”
She began to shiver. “Vance?”
“Vance is fine. He’ll be back soon. How are you?”
Her lips were beginning to turn purple. “I’m cold—my shoulder—”
He bit his lip. “I know about your shoulder. It’s dislocated.” He paused, deeply regretting what he would have to do to her. “We need to do something very painful to fix it.”
She nodded and even smiled. “I know, Telenar. I know it’ll hurt. Go ahead.”
The sight of her laying there in such agony, yet managing to smile, made him love her even more. He nodded resolutely, adjusting his spectacles.
“Okay.” Placing one hand on either side of the joint, he caught her eye again. “Ready?”
Another nod, and he began to count. “One. Two. Thr—”
Before he finished the count, it was done, and her scream was fading in the mountain air.
__________
Vancien stopped mid-step. He knew what was being done and knew Telenar was the man for it. N’vonne was in capable hands. Shaking his head, he wrapped his cloak more tightly around him. He couldn’t take being around anybody at the moment, let alone his unreasonable instructor. The day’s events were taking their toll; now he sought only the presence of Kynell and the snowy mountainside. Telenar would call his action stupid, but he didn’t care. He needed to get away. Now. The Prysm would guide him.
__________
N’vonne tried not to sob uncontrollably, but Telenar was holding her close and whispering soothingly in her ear. So she let the tears flow freely as he rubbed her shoulder, praising Kynell and reassuring her with any words that came to his mind. All the frigidity that had characterized their early days was disappearing rapidly into the snow.
“Shhh. It’s all right. You’re safe now. Vancien’s safe too. It’s all right.”
She nodded against his chest, vainly wiping away the tears and trying to recover her composure. Finally, she had her voice again. She sat back and looked at him. He, too, retreated, unsure that in seeking to comfort, he had not overstepped his bounds.
“Where is Vancien?”
He sighed, remembering his harsh words. “He went for a walk. I was too scared for you to be of much help to him.”
Through her tears, she arched an eyebrow. “Scared for me? But he’s the Advocate.”
“Exactly. Kynell wouldn’t let him fall.”
It was a textbook answer, but she sensed something else behind it. “Is that it, then? You had to be scared for somebody. It couldn’t be him, so I won by default?”
Her words were harsh, she knew, but she couldn’t allow him to retreat so easily. Even so, she was surprised that his expression showed real horror.
“Of course not! Without you, who knows what Vancien would do? You’re the only family he has. And without you, I—”
“You what?”
He stopped, unsure of how he had planned to finish his sentence. He could change the subject; however rude it might seem, he wouldn’t have to reveal the truth just yet. But he had treated her rudely long enough and Kynell valued honesty.
Springing to his feet, he started to pace. Instead of confession, however, he opted for interrogation. “Why do you think I would have kept you at such a distance and avoided any unnecessary, er, contact with you? I would have thought your woman’s intuition would have picked up on how I feel.”
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? “Feel. . .what?”
He himself could not believe the words he spoke next. After nervously adjusting his spectacles for the second time, he sat down again, took her cold hand and placed it between his own. “N’vonne, there is a reason I avoided you at first. There is a reason I haven’t welcomed you into our camaraderie as the laws of Kynell would command. I couldn’t believe that such a thing could happen, but according to all I have read it’s not strictly forbidden. Others have certainly—”
She removed her hand and looked at him pointedly. “Telenar, you have something to say. Say it.”
His gray eyes were a fascinating blend of fear and resolve. She had never seen him so vulnerable.
“Lady N’vonne, the Ages do not forbid a priest to marry.”
“Go on.”
He took up her hand again. “That means that they do not forbid a priest to love.”
Love? Suddenly, Hull was there, just back from a day’s work, smiling with satisfaction. His eyes sparkled as he swung her off her feet. So who was this stern man, gazing fixedly at her? He was not Hull, and never could be—never should be. But she could not deny that he was strong in his own way.
The shoulder and the snow were forgotten as they stared at each other. He did not know what else to say; all was out and she had not responded. Had he just made a fool of himself? Had he condemned the rest of their journey to uncomfortable conversations? She began to shiver again so he hastily tightened his cloak about her. In doing so, his hand brushed her arm and she sighed involuntarily. The sound was slight, but was enough to bring down the last of his restraint. Not daring to wait for an invitation, he turned up her face and, for the first time in his life, kissed a girl.
The kiss was awkward but sincere. He pulled back, abashed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll go find Vancien.”
“No, Telenar, it’s okay. I—” Before she could stop him, though, he had stumbled off into the darkness. But in a few moments he had returned, even more shame-faced than before.
“I, uh, well, it’s starting to get dark. I know Vancien’s protected, but I’m not.” He sat down as far away from her as possible. “Wouldn’t do for me to get myself killed.”
His demeanor was so bashful that she could not help but be charmed. She patted the ground next to her. “Why don’t we make camp? And we can talk while we work.”
He obeyed and they began to talk. She told him about watching Vancien grow up, about her fear for Vancien’s life at the Eyestone Glade, about the first few moments of the Sentry attack. She even told him a little bit about her reckless youth. And about Hull. In return, he shared some bits of his childhood with her, his entry into the Patroniite Fraternity, and his concerns about where the priesthood was heading. A few hours passed in this pleasant manner. Finally, as the fire burned bright in the little cave they had found, Telenar noticed N’vonne struggling to keep her eyes open. With renewed confidence, he placed his hand gently on her cheek and kissed her forehead.
“Good night, Lady. May Kynell give you a good rest.”
She murmured a response, drifting off to sleep as he crept to the other side of the fire. But he did not sleep. Instead, he stared at the fire and dreamed of a future beyond the coming battle, of mundane things like a having a wife, a home, and children.
__________
Night had descended in full upon Vancien as he pushed his way through the snow. He was freezing, but he could not admit as much to himself; he had to think, had to pray, had to be alone, and the cold was a small price to pay for the opportunity. Telenar might be worried, but Vancien spared little thought for his mentor at the moment.
He stopped to catch his breath and survey his surroundings. The three lunos were almost full, and the Range was both stark and beautiful. Thanks to the brilliance of the lunos, he could see peaks stretching into the distance on either side of him. The view was so majestic that it touched a chord within him. N’vonne’s pain, Telenar’s irritation, his own failures. . .everything seemed trivial when compared with the brooding peaks, witnesses to all of Rhyvelad’s past. Here, among such massive formations, did his life really matter? Perhaps all that he had read, all he had believed in, was really nothing more than a fantasy. What was more, maybe the Supras Patronius was right. Maybe Telenar misjudged the dates. Or maybe—he grit his teeth against the thought—maybe they had all been deceived. Surely it was a little fantastic, if not self-centered, to believe the world’s fate rested on his own young and very human shoulders. Maybe it would be better to call this whole adventure off, go back to Lascombe, and consider things rationally for awhile.
Shaking his head, Vancien tried to dispel the persistent doubt. Telenar was well-educated. He knew Keroulian history and the Ages better than anyone in Lascombe. He was also cynical: if he had had any doubt, surely he would have expressed it by now. And then there was Kynell himself, who had been with him through so many trials, from the disappearance of Amarian to the death of his father to even now. But perhaps even this was his imagination. He had never seen Kynell, never heard his voice, never touched his hand. What proof was there of his existence?
Telenar’s voice, quoting a section of the ninth Folio, instantly arose in his mind: “For when I was there, you doubted. I saw the doubt and did not leave. Still I was there.” Vancien smiled at the oddly repetitive observation. He actually had very little reason for doubting, considering all that Kynell had done for him. To give his doubt free reign would be ungrateful, especially since no argume
nt and no rationale compelled him to do so. Nevertheless, it was there, and Vancien doubted if anything short of Kynell’s physical manifestation would remove it.
Beating his hands together to keep warm, he tried to weigh his options. He could go back to Win, South of the Glade, let Relgaré wage his war, and leave Telenar and N’vonne to finish out their lives in peace. But that would mean betraying their trust and for what reason? Because he had doubts. Or he could swallow them for the moment, press on, and see what happened. At the very worst, he would waste his own life as well as his friends’. On the other hand, this could be the most remarkable opportunity to see Kynell at work; if Telenar’s reading of the Ages was correct and he actually was the Advocate, then to turn back now would be disastrous. With this thought, he gave the stars one last look before retracing his steps.
__________
Corfe had watched Vancien leave his friends, following him as discreetly as he could; he was rather displeased to note that the Sentry was following him. The abominable Urabi were remarkably unsettling, as they were hardly ever visible. In the mountains, even the telltale click of their claws was muffled by the snow. He had tried his best to forget the unsavory creature—a strategy that worked only long enough for him to be startled anew when Ranti reappeared every few days. He sighed quietly, aching to rub his hands in the cold but wary of attracting the attention of Vancien, who was only a score paces away. Not that Vancien appeared easily distracted. The young man was staring at the stars and mumbling to himself. A prayer, no doubt. Corfe raised an eyebrow. If Kynell were paying attention, what would the god of the Prysm say to Amarian’s right-hand man witnessing this private spiritual moment?
Why would you care what Kynell thought?
The unwelcome voice boomed inside his head and for a moment Corfe wondered whether Amarian had acquired telepathic abilities. It sounded like his master, but there was something else, something even darker, if such a level of darkness could exist.
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