Since those Peaks, a man or beast could pass above the city and look down through the ice to see the peaks of the spires in key spots where the ice remained transparent. At night, the orbs lighting the city illuminated the ice above it, and the location of the city could be seen from a distance. Over 80,000 Tormalians moved throughout those well-preserved structures on a Peakly basis.
Blandina appeared on the back of her harugen and stopped the beast next to a series of totems that had been implanted in the ice above the city of Gesper. After dismounting, she tethered the mammoth and walked 150 paces north before she looked down through the ice. Below her feet, the peak of her father’s tallest spire, marking the southernmost boundary of his castle, glowed as the orbs surrounding the structure cast light upon its golden tower and its crystal apex.
The sorceress lifted her nose in the direction of the starless sky and followed the rays of light as they shot up into the darkness. She took a deep breath and then exhaled. “Ahhh … home.” A moment later, she vanished, only to reappear outside the door of her father’s bedroom chamber 90 paces below.
With her right hand, she tapped the iron ring against the oak door and waited. Thirty heartbeats later, a gruff Tormalian with a balding head and a beard that hung to his waist opened the door. The king’s grin was illuminated by an orb that had been secured to the stacked, stone wall of the hallway behind Blandina. “Daughter, the moments could not be more perfect for your return. Please … enter … and delight your father’s ears with words of your progress.”
“Hello, Father,” Blandina said as she stepped across the threshold.
“Did the bled seize the child as planned, and has Shiver donned the crown?” the king urged.
Blandina reached out and caressed her father’s cheek and then kissed his forehead. “There’s much to tell, Father.” The sorceress walked across the polished, wooden floor past a burning fireplace that emanated no heat and lowered onto a mattress that was laden with wool from the Plains of Errod on Dragonia. She rubbed her hand across the mattress and smiled. She remembered her studies. As a child, she had been taught how the wool was shaved from the backs of weresheep during their season of transformation. She remembered that, when out of season, these cursed humans remained slaves to the white demons who occupied the plains. She smirked, enjoying the knowledge that these demons often made their humans wear clothing spun from the same wool they shaved from their backs.
Looking up to find her father’s anxious gaze, Blandina responded to his questions. “The children journeyed to the swimming hole as you prophesied. The bled attacked the ruby eyed child as you commanded it to, and Thoomar was forced to surrender his life’s source to save the Isorians’ belief in their foolish prophecy.”
The king rubbed his hands together. “Also as I foretold.”
“Your visions are always correct, Father.”
Meerum basked in his own glory for a moment and then questioned, “Does Shiver wear the crown?”
“He does.”
“Wonderful! And has word reached his ears that Darosen is his father?”
“It has.”
“And does the boy know that I’m his true king?”
Blandina sighed, “Yes, My Lord. But his acceptance of the truth was less than encouraging. I was forced to leave him with his father in the wilderness before I returned to Gesper. They’ll walk for many Peaks before Shiver accepts his calling.”
“What of Darosen? Was his performance genuine?”
“He reacted as you said he would. His love for Shiver will ensure the boy becomes loyal. He’s a good father.”
The king clapped his hands. “Just as I had also foreseen. My visions remain trustworthy.” The king moved to the bed and took a seat next to Blandina. “Once Darosen convinces the child to wed Clandestiny, the blood exchanged upon their union will give the boy purity. Then, and only then, shall he be able to control the Tear.” Meerum smiled and pushed Blandina’s hair clear of her face. “And you, my princess, you shall harness the power of the gashtion through Shiver.”
The king kissed Blandina on the cheek. His eyes gleamed as he pulled back to reclaim those that longed for a father’s love. “Under your command, my lovely daughter, the dragon shall feast upon the Isor. The beast will rid us of this impure populace. Their lands will become mine, and you shall be the princess over all Northern Grayham. We shall wait for the High Priestess of Harvestom to return, and together, we will force her blessing upon me.”
“Why do you need the blessing, Father? Your magic is strong.”
Meerum frowned. “Have your studies taught you nothing, girl? With the Priestess’ blessing, I can don the Tear without fear of its power consuming my being. With the gashtion under my control, I shall become a god. I shall rule without opposition.”
Blandina leaned toward Meerum and then placed her arms around the king’s neck. “But Father, my power grows stronger by the Peak. When the moment comes, perhaps I will be strong enough to bear the burden of the Tear without forcing impure blood to course through Shiver’s veins. I could surrender the Tear to you once the priestess arrives.”
Meerum’s heavy brows furrowed. “Foolish child. Must I speak of this yet again?”
“But Father, you seek to abolish the Isor. What is to become of Shiver and Clandestiny once the priestess has fulfilled your will?”
The king stood from the bed and moved to the hearth of the fireplace. He stared at a hand drawn picture of his late wife. Upon seeing his daughter’s face in the queen’s, he grabbed the frame by its base and turned around. “Your mother questioned my authority until the moment her life’s source was ended. As I released her neck and let her form fall to the ice, I stood back and watched a hungry pack of hounds devour her corpse. Shiver and Clandestiny are no less expendable.”
Blandina gasped. The sorceress stood from the bed and lifted her right hand. A ball of energy appeared in her palm. “Shiver and the girl will not be harmed. For if they are, your corpse will meet a similar fate as Mother’s.”
Meerum chuckled as he casually strolled across the gap between himself and the self-proclaimed witch. As he approached, Blandina stepped backward until the bed stopped her retreat. With her magic ready to end, the king ignored the threat and backhanded his daughter with his free hand, sending her flopping onto the bed.
Meerum watched Blandina’s magic fizzle. “Stupid girl! Do you think that I failed to foresee this Peak? You will never savor the joy of ending my life’s source.”
Holding the left side of her swollen face in the palm of her hand, Blandina pleaded. “Please! At least allow the boy to continue his existence. Take the girl, for I care not. Do with her as you must.”
The king’s face softened. “Perhaps I shall make her my plaything. I have needs that have gone unattended since your mother’s demise.” Meerum returned to the fireplace. “I will allow your request. As long as Shiver behaves, his eyes shall continue to see sunsets.”
Meerum put his hand to his chin. “See that your mind remains free of foolish notions, daughter. Your power isn’t strong enough to control the Tear without the blood.” The king tossed the picture of Blandina’s mother across the room and watched it land on the bed. Satisfied that his message had been delivered, he left the chamber and used his magic to slam the door behind him.
Blandina rolled over and placed her good cheek on the edge of the frame. A tear rolled from the corner of her left eye and dropped from the bridge of her nose onto the drawing just above her mother’s head. With her right thumb, she wiped the tear away. The graphite used to create the illustration smeared, marring her mother’s face. Upon seeing the ruin, the sorceress sat up and hurled the last remaining treasure of her mother into the fireplace. She would watch the flames consume the memory before she teleported out of the city.
8 Peaks of Bailem Later
The Entrance to the Pass of Nayala
Medolas and Clanny stopped walking once they reached the entrance to the pass. Clanny tugged on t
he rope the baby snowhound had been leashed to and commanded, “Keeba, sit.” Reaching down, she rewarded the pup with a piece of meat she had cut from the leg of their final icejack. “Good Keeba. Good boy.”
Medolas sighed as he dropped the blanket and his spear to the ground. He looked beyond the entrance toward a narrow ledge that spanned a gap more than 2,740 paces between two mountain peaks. To the right of the ledge, the fall was a sheer 1,100 pace drop. To the left, he estimated the fall to be an additional 800 paces. At the bottom of both drops, a violent end waited for those who were unable to cross without being blown off the ledge.
Listening to the whistling wind as it crested the walkway, Medolas rubbed the goose bumps on his arms. “This place doesn’t offer peace to my being.”
Clandestiny lifted Keeba off the ground and scratched the bottom of the pup’s chin while she studied the entrance of the pass. Two stone skeletons, one Tormal and the other Isor, sat atop thick, circular pillars that rose above her head. The skeleton on the pillar to her right was sitting on his knees with one end of a large, rickety, wooden sign resting between them. His bony arms were extended toward the top of the sign to hold the arching placard upright. The skeleton to her left allowed his legs to fall over the side of his pillar. His side of the sign sat between his legs with his bony knees straddling both sides. He, too, had his arms outstretched to ensure the placard remained erect.
Clanny read the sign aloud:
Through a sea of wind one must pass
Should one not fall, madness one may suffer
For to see beyond this Peak
Does not promise a life worth living
“What should we do, Meddy?” Clanny said as she continued to study the sign. “Perhaps we should turn back.”
Medolas bent down and grabbed a handful of snow and packed it tight. He chucked the snowball at the head of the skeleton sitting to his right and watched it hit his target. “Go back? What can they do? They don’t appear capable of chasing us.” He grabbed another snowball and chucked it at the skeleton with the sign between his knees and then laughed as the snowball caused its head to break free. The stone skull hit the ground and rolled out onto the ledge before the awkwardness of its shape caused it to plummet into the chasm. “See, Clanny? What are we to fear?”
Annoyed, Clanny stormed up to the edge of the walkway. She turned and glared at Medolas while she pointed toward the mountain peak at the opposite end of the ledge. “Do your eyes fail you, Meddy? Do you find me witless? I don’t fear inanimate life forms made of stone!” She cupped her hand around her right ear. “I fear the spirits who guard the pass before us. I value what sanity I possess.”
With a brush of his arm, Medolas dismissed Clanny’s concern. He snatched his spear and Clanny’s blanket off the ground. With the blanket beneath his left arm and the spear clenched tight in the same hand, he passed Clandestiny on her left and began to walk out onto the ledge.
Medolas grinned as Clandestiny shouted a familiar phrase. “Meddy, return to me at once!”
The young Isorian ignored the command and continued his trek. He was no more than 60 paces away from Clanny when a strong wind from the south collided with the left side of his body. Medolas was blown to his right across the width of the path that spanned only five paces. To stop himself from falling off the ledge, he allowed his knees to collapse under him while stabbing the point of his spear into a crack. With his heart pounding and his backside firmly planted next to what would have been his demise, Medolas’ body started to tremble as he watched the blanket float up into the air before it dropped into the chasm.
Frantic, Clanny lowered the snowhound to her side and placed its leash beneath her foot. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Medolas Armichael Loverum, you shall return to me at once! Don’t make me speak it again!”
Despite Clandestiny’s demand, Medolas was unable to move. Her voice, though strong, was muffled by a dense fog that filled his mind. His body would not stop shaking, and his eyes remained fixated on the blanket until it vanished from sight. He knew he needed to move toward the center of the path, but the command to make his muscles react failed him.
Clandestiny shouted at Medolas again and again during the long series of moments before she finally realized that he was unable to regain control of his movements. Looking down at the barking snowhound, an idea came to her. She lowered to her hands and knees. With the hound’s leash clenched between her teeth, she crawled out onto the ledge toward Medolas. On two occasions, she was forced to battle gusts of her own, but the third gust was too much.
The wind lifted Keeba and threw the snowhound off the path. Clandestiny tried to catch him, but she was forced to drop to her belly to keep herself from being thrown. With her body flat against the path, she listened to Keeba’s cries as he fell below the ledge.
Clandestiny’s breathing was heavy behind clenched teeth as she listened to Keeba’s whimpers. Grateful that her bite on the leash had remained strong, she pulled the snowhound back to safety. Keeba would not stop licking her face as Clanny tucked the snowhound between her arms in front of her and continued her journey to Medolas on her belly.
Once she was at Medolas’ side, Clanny reached out and pulled him onto his back. With the snowhound against her left cheek, and Medolas’ head against her right, she held them tight while she professed her love for both amongst a barrage of kisses.
It took a while before Clandestiny’s coaxing found its way through the fog in Medolas’ mind. The boy rolled to his stomach. After a short series of moments filled with the sweet sight of Clandestiny’s smile, Medolas’ confidence returned. It was on this pass—the most dangerous crossing on all the worlds governed by the Crystal Moon—where the young Isorian would steal his first passionate kiss.
As their lips separated and his eyes opened, something moved over Clanny’s shoulder near the entrance of the pass. Medolas’ enjoyment of the kiss would be stolen by the sight of a spotted lynx and her four cubs. The feline was growling as she stepped onto the walkway.
“Clanny, we need to press forward!” Medolas urged.
Unaware of the danger behind her, Clanny questioned, “Your boldness has returned. Was my kiss so great that it caused you to forget the danger lurking ahead?”
Medolas rolled his eyes. Rather than answer, he pointed over Clandestiny’s shoulder.
Staying on her belly, Clanny turned her body around. Her eyes widened. The cat and her cubs had already traversed 20 paces, leaving only 40 between them.
Watching the foam drip from the feline’s jowls, Clanny started to crawl backward away from the lynx. “She’s rabid, Meddy.”
“Agreed. My eyes bear witness. Get behind me and continue to retreat.”
Clanny did as instructed. She pulled the snarling snowhound with the leash as she pinched the rope between her teeth. As Medolas slid toward the center of the ledge, he yanked his spear free of the crack and moved it to his right hand.
Now, fellow soul … this is one of those moments where I must intervene. I think we all know that neither Clandestiny nor Medolas—and yes, the stupid snowhound—were destined to perish on that Peak.
Allow me to say this: their journey to the far side of the pass was rough. I’m sure you can imagine what it would be like to scoot backward on your belly across the length of an 2,740 pace ledge while defending yourself from a bunch of rabid felines.
Medolas and Clanny were more than half way across before the wind blew the lynx and her cubs off the ledge. Needless to say, there was no point in turning back. Like I’ve said before during the telling of this tale, garesh happens. Now … allow me to say it again. Garesh really does happen. Do you think Clandestiny and Medolas suffered some seriously wicked pass rash on their bellies? I can assure you, they did.
Garesh so happens.
43 Peaks Later
The Mountains of the Ko-dess
Like the Mountains of Tedfer, the mountains of the Ko-dess were filled with predators. Because of this, restful sleep
evaded the children since journeying beyond the Pass of Nayala. They had to navigate a series of canyons, hunting whatever they could while they worked to avoid being the hunted.
Clandestiny stopped walking. Lowering to a small boulder, she longed for her old blanket. “Meddy, please. I can’t continue. We’ve walked for more Peaks than I can remember.”
Medolas lowered the baby snowhound to the ground and then placed the end of its leash beneath his foot. After removing one of the small strips of meat he had tied to the belt of his loin cloth, he tossed it onto the ground and watched the hound snatch it up. “We cannot rest until we’ve found a safe haven for us to exist.”
Clanny grumbled, “I miss home. What were we thinking? Only a sure end waits for us amongst these wretched peaks.”
Sensing Clanny’s sadness, Keeba trotted over to her feet and licked her toes.
Medolas smiled. “As I’ve said on many occasions, we’ve come too far to turn back. Please don’t make me speak it again. If we must suffer an end to our life’s source, then it’s my desire that we suffer an end of our choosing. I won’t return and hand your love to Shiver. You’re mine.” Medolas walked to Clanny and lifted her chin with his right hand. “Do you understand me? You’re mine.”
Before Clanny could respond, the walls of the mountains echoed with a sound they had never heard before. Clanny stood from the boulder and lifted the snowhound off the ground. Pulling the pup to her bosom, she whispered, “Must we run again so soon?”
Medolas did not answer. Instead, he left Clanny standing speechless and bolted further into the depths of the canyon. He darted 74 paces before he made a hard left and disappeared from sight.
Seeing what was before him, the young Isorian was forced to duck behind some bushes that grew amidst a cropping of rocks. He would need to settle his breathing and collect his nerve before he could poke his head over the top of the thicket.
The Tear of Gramal Page 12