Yet, oddly enough, the story intrigued him. He had a good deal in common with the Journeyman bard. Enmor sought a muse he could never find, a promise that lay eternally out of his reach. His quest seemed endless, and every new challenge he faced seemed insurmountable. Yet Enmor out-stubborned each obstacle, ultimately defeating each one to claim his prize—usually in some inventive and lewd form of intercourse. The Hunter had spent his fair share of time in the brothels of Voramis, but more than a few of Enmor’s acts proved unfamiliar to him.
Eventually, the fire died out, and the Hunter sat alone in darkness, the unfinished book clasped in his hands. He wanted to keep reading, to find out how the bard's story ended. Did he complete his quest and find his muse, or was he fated to travel around Einan until death claimed him? Would his efforts prove futile?
The futility of his actions wasn't lost on the Hunter. He was trying to do something no one had done for thousands of years. People called Enarium "the Lost City" for a reason. Was he, like Enmor the Journeyman, destined to wander Einan in search of something he would never find?
The question gnawed at him as he reclined against a boulder and stared at the stars overhead. Try as he might, he could find no answer.
Chapter Eighteen
The Hunter's mood hadn't improved by the time dawn lightened the horizon, tingeing the blue sky with breathtaking hues of red, pink, and gold accented by brilliant white.
Rassek emerged from his tent far too cheery and bright-eyed, and not even Darillon's dour demeanor could put a damper on the younger man’s enthusiasm. He bustled around their little campsite with a surprising liveliness for someone who had slept just a few hours the previous night.
Evren looked like he'd gotten an hour of rest and spent the rest of the time shivering. He said nothing through their meager breakfast of cold trail biscuits, dried lamb, and nuts. Not even Hailen's high-pitched babble could wipe the scowl from his face.
The Hunter had worried about Hailen, but the boy seemed no worse for the rough night. He scampered around the rocky hollow, stacking stones, hurling pebbles up the trail, and keeping up a steady stream of conversation with himself. He barely sat still long enough for the Hunter to get him to eat a piece of biscuit before he was up and off again. Before the Hunter had taken three bites of his own food, the boy returned and begged to let him help brush and saddle Ash for the ride.
Rassek and Evren took down the tents while Darillon checked the mounts. The older mountaineer nodded at the state of Elivast's and Ash's tack, but frowned as he saw the condition of the reins and headgear on Evren's horse. He said nothing, however, simply tightened a few straps and adjusted the horse's bit and bridle.
Rassek had barely downed his meal when he began badgering them to move faster and get on the road.
"We've a lot of ground to be coverin’ today," he said in that irritatingly cheerful tone as he mounted up. "T’will be a beautiful ride, but a long one."
The Hunter helped Hailen onto Ash's back, climbed into Elivast’s saddle, and set off after the mountaineers and Evren. Once again, he brought up the rear. He only occasionally glanced over his shoulders for any sign of pursuit. He'd given Sir Danna the slip back in Vothmot, but how long would that last? Though the chance of the Warrior Priests finding him in the middle of the Empty Mountains was slim, the Cambionari knight had somehow managed to track him down halfway across Einan. Lord Knight Moradiss had spoken of the ability to sense the presence of the gemstone in Soulhunger's pommel. How far did he have to go before Sir Danna could no longer follow him?
By the end of the first hour down the trail, the steep, brush-covered slopes of the mountain had given way to sheer cliffs and jagged rock walls rising scores of paces above the Hunter’s head. The shades of brown, grey, and red had a stark beauty to it. The Hunter understood why people came from all around Einan to visit the Empty Mountains. Had he not been so pressed for time, he could see himself enjoying the view.
For the next four hours, the trail continued to rise at a semi-steep incline as it cut back and forth between the sharp, rocky faces of the Empty Mountain peaks. Though the mountaineers’ horses seemed unaffected by the climb, Evren’s nag looked ready to collapse. Elivast’s head had begun to droop as well. Thankfully, the path eventually leveled out for a short distance, then sloped gently downward before curving between two high cliffs.
Rassek turned in his saddle and shot a grin back at them. "Are ye ready to be seein' the Empty Mountains' second best-kept secret?"
They rounded a bend in the trail, and through a gap in the cliffs, a truly spectacular sight spread out before them. A vast expanse of unbroken blue stretched for leagues to the north, east, and west. The cool mountain breeze set ripples dancing on the surface of the lake, carrying the scent of water drifting toward them. An ethereal silence gripped the world around them, as if all nature held their breaths in the presence of such beauty.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Rassek’s grin widened.
The Hunter nodded. "It is indeed."
"Sapphire Lake is known only to a handful of mountaineers, includin’ Darillon and myself." Rassek's face grew serious. "All of us are sworn to be keepin’ it a secret from the treasure-hunters and sight-seers, we are. If all knew of its beauty, too many would make the trip to see it."
"What's wrong with that?" Evren asked, his first words of the day. "Ain’t beautiful things s’posed to be enjoyed?"
"They are," Darillon muttered, "but only if the ones enjoying them care about preserving the beauty."
Rassek nodded. "Let's just say the sort of wealthy people who be comin’ to the Empty Mountains fer a thrill aren't the sort as care about the impact they might be havin’ on their environment. Noble men and women are more like to be despoilin' things than preservin' them, they are."
"Of course." The Hunter had seen what wealthy, pampered men and women could do to the beauty of nature. The Maiden's Fields of Voramis were one such example. Once, the sprawling greens in Upper Voramis had been the site of revelries and celebrations on a near-nightly basis. Those rich enough to enjoy the comforts of the upper city but not wealthy enough to own a mansion there used the public space to hold all manner of fetes.
The grass had withered beneath thousands of trampling boots, the trees languished after being inundated with agor, wine, and other strong spirits. The Snowblossom trees had failed to bloom for three years. Finally, fifteen years ago, then-King Darayn had decreed that the Maiden's Fields were under his protection. It had taken nearly eight years for the greens to recover properly. All because of the abuse and neglect heaped on the land by people who cared more about their celebrations than preserving their environment.
"And those who are fortunate enough to see it must swear an oath never to reveal its location." Darillon fixed them with an intense stare. "Sapphire Lake will only remain beautiful as long as we keep it so."
"I swear," the Hunter said without hesitation. "The secret of Sapphire Lake will not pass my lips."
"I swear, too." Evren nodded.
The Hunter was struck by how young the thief really was. He stared at the lake with the same wonder that sparkled in Hailen's eyes. Life had hardened Evren, but a trace of the innocent youth remained buried beneath his tough exterior.
"Come," said Rassek as he kicked his horse into motion, "we’ll be enjoyin’ the water later, we will. But there’s lots of ground to cover before nightfall."
The Hunter raised an eyebrow. It wasn't even noon yet, and already the mountaineer was worrying about night?
But as they descended down the trail toward the path that ran alongside the edge of the water, the Hunter realized just how enormous Sapphire Lake really was. It had to be at least three or four leagues wide and long and would take hours to circumnavigate.
The mountaineers kept them moving at a steady trot along the lakeshore trail the rest of the day, pausing only long enough for a quick meal in the first hour of the afternoon. A worried expression crossed Darillon's face as they rested, but Rass
ek calmed him with a few quiet words. The younger man, however, ate in a hurry and pushed them to mount up as quickly as possible.
As the sun descended toward the western mountain peaks, the cool mountain breeze changed to bracing gusts edged by a noticeable chill. Two hours before sunset, and the wind had turned positively frigid, piercing even the Hunter’s thick cloak and driving daggers of ice into his flesh. The reason for Darillon's worry became plain as the Hunter took in their surroundings. The trail around the lake offered no shelter from the stinging wind. The nearest place he could see that offered any windbreak was still easily a quarter of a league away around the water’s edge.
The taste of sleet and snow thickened the air, and the cold sent a shiver down the Hunter’s spine. With a shout, Darillon kicked his horse into a fast trot, and the rest of them did likewise. The wind began to whine in his ears until it deepened to a moaning that whipped at his clothing with vicious claws of frost.
The Hunter had to bend over Elivast’s mane to stay in his saddle. All of the horses seemed to be struggling against the force of the biting tempest. The Hunter kept a close eye on Hailen as they rode. Even though the boy had spent enough time in the saddle to be a decent rider, the effort of maintaining the fast pace would tire him quickly. At the first sign that Hailen was struggling, he'd pull him into his saddle.
"There!" The gale muffled Darillon's shout, but his finger indicated a dark cave a short distance away.
The Hunter let out a relieved breath as the horses pounded up the trail and into the cave. The stone walls echoed the clatter of hooves but thankfully silenced the piercing, shrieking wind. He followed Rassek and Darillon's lead as they dismounted to let the horses rest.
"That was too bloody close!" Darillon muttered.
Rassek clapped his partner on the shoulder. "What's life without a bit of risk, eh?" He turned to the Hunter. "How's yer boy?"
The Hunter was already moving toward Hailen. Fatigue pinched the boy's face, and he shivered in his cloak. His eyes had taken on that faraway look that indicated he was lost in his head.
"He's tired," the Hunter told the two men. "Nothing a bit of rest won't cure."
Evren dismounted stiffly and rubbed his hands together, blowing on them for warmth. The Hunter felt a stab of pity for the young thief. His tunic, cloak, and boots were as ragged as his blankets, offering little protection from the stinging winds. Had they not reached the cave when they did, Evren would be suffering far worse ill-effects of the cold.
Rassek shot a glance outside, but his face showed no sign of worry. "Damn nasty the wind is bein’, but t’will pass soon enough, says I."
The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "That feels like a full-blown snowstorm in the making." He hadn't been that cold since he climbed Shana Laal to reach Kara-ket.
"Nah, tisn’t half as bad as it looks." Rassek dismissed it with a wave. "The winds be kickin’ up every day around sunset, but they die out quickly, see. Odd phenomenon, but as predictable as a miser on payday."
Darillon shook his head. "I told you we needed to move faster."
"And we did." Rassek grinned. "All that worryin’ fer nothin’, eh?"
Darillon rolled his eyes. "At least one of us has to worry. We can't all go through life as if we're kissed by the Mistress herself. Luck runs out in the end, even for you."
Rassek shrugged. "Until then, my friend, I'm just goin’ to keep on enjoyin’ every minute of the Mistress' good fortune."
Darillon and the Hunter tended the horses while Evren and Rassek set up their simple camp. The hard-packed earth within the cave resisted their efforts to drive the tent's stakes into the ground, and Darillon abandoned his care of his horse to lend a hand.
The Hunter checked on Ash and Elivast, making sure they hadn't twisted a leg or nicked a hoof on their hard ride. The horses seemed tired but otherwise unharmed, and they welcomed the apples he produced from his pack. He'd learned that Elivast, in particular, proved more obliging after being plied with treats.
He gave one to Evren's horse as well. The thief's mount was as scruffy and gaunt as its rider, with a shaggy mane, rough coat, and drooping fetlocks. It seemed surprised to be receiving a treat, but munched the apple—the last of the Hunter's supply—with no less delight than Ash or Elivast.
True to Rassek's words, the howling wind died within half an hour, and an almost stifling calm settled on the mountains around them. The absence of sound felt eerie, as it had after the storm in the Whispering Waste. The Hunter welcomed the noise of Darillon and Rassek's conversation; anything to avoid the silence.
Hailen seemed to emerge from his trance as the wind abated. A shadow hung behind his eyes, but his face broke into a smile as he saw where they were.
"Cave!" he squealed, and promptly set off exploring every nook and cranny of stone. The Hunter let him run free; the cave had barely enough space for the five of them, their horses, and their camp. Hailen would be safe enough in here.
"Anyone feelin’ in the mood for a late-night swim?" A huge grin spread Rassek's face, and an almost childish excitement sparkled in his eyes.
"In this cold?" Evren asked. He'd gone stiff at the word "swim".
"Like I said, the lake's an odd place. Once that wind dies down, ‘tis warmer than a Praamian summer." Rassek motioned to the mouth of the cave. "See fer yerself."
The Hunter stepped outside and was shocked to feel the balminess of the evening. A warm breeze rippled across the surface of the lake, and the chill from just minutes before had disappeared. It truly could have been a summer in Praamis.
He turned to Rassek. "How long does it stay warm?"
The man's brow furrowed. "Two, three hours or so. Long enough fer a dip in the lake, says I. And trust me, ye won't want to be missin’ it."
With a loud whoop, Rassek took off running down to the lake. Darillon snorted and followed at a much more dignified pace.
"Hailen," the Hunter called, "time for a swim."
Hailen's face filled with delight as he raced toward the Hunter. "A swim? Hooray!" His little legs carried him down the trail in Rassek's wake.
The Hunter jogged after the boy. Hailen's moments of lucidity proved fewer and farther between with every passing day. He had to make the most of them while they lasted.
The stars overhead reflected off the surface of the lake, setting the water twinkling with an odd blue light. Yet, as he approached, the Hunter was surprised to find an added glow beneath the surface of the water. Strange blue flowers grew on the rocky bottom of Sapphire Lake. They bore a strong resemblance to water lilies, but clung to the stones on the lake bed rather than floating on the surface. They seemed to glow with their own inner light.
The Hunter had seen something similar glowing in Graeme's shop on one of his visits. The alchemist had used the word "phosphorescent" in his explanation, though it was enough for the Hunter to know that it glowed in the dark because it absorbed sunlight during the day.
"This is why ‘tis called Sapphire Lake," Rassek said with a grin. "Like a million gemstones twinklin’ in the heart of the lake itself."
The mountaineer stripped down to his breeches and waded into the water without hesitation, Darillon a few steps behind him. Hailen splashed around with a child's glee, and the Hunter found he couldn't resist the urge to enter the lake as well. He stripped out of his heavy cloak, leather armor, and sword belt, and dropped them all in a bundle before following the others into the lake. The water proved deliciously warm, and his tension melted away as he relaxed in the crystal clear lake.
Evren, however, remained on the lakeshore, well back from the water. He brushed off Rassek's invitations to get in the lake, but instead took a seat on a large, round stone. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs, and watched them play.
"Hardwell!" Hailen called. "Bring me a glowy fish."
"They're not fish," Rassek corrected. "They're plants, see."
"Bring me a glowy plant, then.”
With a grin, the Hu
nter dove into the water and swam toward the nearest shining blue flower. The stem resisted his tugging, and it took a surprising amount of effort to rip it free. He swam to the surface and held his trophy up.
"Look what I've got, H—"
"Hey!"
The cry brought the Hunter spinning around.
"W-What's happenin’ to him?" Evren stammered. The fear in the young thief’s eyes mirrored the panic in his voice as he stared down at Hailen.
The Hunter's gaze snapped to the boy. His blood turned to ice as he saw Hailen lying on the floor, writhing, twitching in a seizure. The Irrsinnon had claimed him.
Chapter Nineteen
Horror held the Hunter frozen in place. A memory he'd had in Kara-ket flashed through his mind.
The young man writhed in his grip, screaming incoherence into the night.
"The Irrsinnon has taken him." Anguish lined Master Eldor's sun-darkened face as he wrestled with the dark-haired youth's wildly waving arm. "Hold him tight until it passes. We cannot let him hurt himself."
Together they wrestled Aerden to the ground. He wanted to cover his ears against the shrieks of terror that echoed across the mountain, but he dared not release the twitching, jerking arm.
A whimpering cry burst from Hailen's lips, and the sound snapped the Hunter back to reality. He raced toward the shore as fast as he could manage, his eyes never leaving the little figure writhing on the lakeshore. He raced up the rocky slope toward the boy and seized Hailen's wrists in strong hands.
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