by Adrian Cole
'The pass is like a saddle,’ said Wolgren as they chewed a fish breakfast. ‘I've never been far into it, but it should be passable if the snow hasn't drifted too badly. Usually the wind sweeps it clear. It's more exposed, so if a storm does come, we may have to turn back.’
Korbillian shook his head. ‘We cannot go back. Time now is against us.’ He turned to say something to Sisipher, but she was very still, her face white. ‘What is it? What have you seen?’
She was breathing heavily as if she had been running. ‘We can't go that way,’ she gasped, pointing up the valley.
'We have to.’ said Wolgren, dropping down beside her.
'No,’ she insisted. ‘There's blood up there.’
'Has there been a fight?’ said Guile, also beside her.
Wolgren gripped his knife. ‘An ambush?’
'It hasn't happened yet,’ Sisipher told them. ‘But there will be blood spilled.’
'Whose?’ said Guile, exchanging a worried look with Wolgren.
'I don't know.’
'Do animals hunt here?’ asked Guile.
'Mountain Owls do,’ Wolgren nodded.
'It's human blood,’ whispered Sisipher.
They turned to Korbillian. “Do not press her,’ he said. ‘We must prepare, that is all. The way ahead for us will always be dangerous. Look to your weapons.’
Sisipher nodded. ‘Yes, we must go on. I cannot see the way back to Sundhaven, but there is a strangeness about it. All is not well, I sense it.’
None of them really wanted to know more: her knowledge was too disturbing. Instead they shouldered their packs and kept their weapons to hand, moving on with additional caution.
After an hour they had made good progress up the valley towards a gap in the peaks. The snow was much harder underfoot than Sisipher would have expected; it was packed and firm and she thought about Guile's words of yesterday. How much control did Korbillian exercise? Again, the cold did not seem to bite as it should, and the day, though full of cloud that drifted mistily around them, was mild.
They reached a dip in the valley and an exposed, flattened area. Sisipher stopped, her blood running cold as she looked around her. It was a bizarre feeling, for the future superimposed itself over the present. She could see patches of blood, shreds of cloth, feathers all around, and yet it was not now. ‘Wait,’ she called, and at once was ringed. ‘It is here,’ she said, describing the scene.
'Let us get away quickly,’ urged Guile. ‘It may not happen to us.’
'Can you see anything on the slopes below us?’ Sisipher asked. Wolgren ran back a little way at once, but when he returned, declared there was only the mist.
'How far to the pass?’ Korbillian asked. The cloud had dropped over them and visibility closed in. Now the cold did come, like the sea.
'Not far,’ promised Wolgren, eagerly leading on. They moved as fast as they could without exhausting themselves, aware that exhaustion would be their most dangerous adversary.
They had left the place of blood some distance behind when a sound made them look up as one. It was the beating of wings, several pairs, and all of them evidently very large. Quickly they drew together, dropping their packs and gripping their weapons. They could see no more than a few yards into the drizzling cloud, but the wings could be heard on all sides. Silence came again.
'Mountain Owls,’ whispered Wolgren. ‘No other birds are so large.’
'Are they dangerous?’ said Guile softly.
'I've never been close to one. They're not said to attack people, but then again, they are said to be imaginary, like your master's powers.’ Wolgren grinned as he said it, and Sisipher wondered if this was why he had come, to show them that he had been here, and did not lie about things he had seen. In Sundhaven, only the young children had believed his tales.
Korbillian admonished them to be still, but Wolgren, surprisingly, ignored him. He moved out of the tight circle and spoke to the silence. ‘I am here again, Lords of the Sky. You've watched me before. You know I mean no harm. Will you let me pass?’ He deliberately sheathed his knife. Sisipher shuddered—the boy was an open target for any attack.
In a moment, the beat of wings returned, and from the mist came what appeared at first to be a huge shape. It flew over them and then back, alighting on the snow a few yards before Wolgren. Now that it was plainly visible, they could see that it was not huge, although it stood half Wolgren's height, the largest owl they had ever seen. It was almost pure white, with a tightly curved beak and wide, staring eyes that looked at them with an expression that suggested extreme shock. It spread its magnificent wings, shot with gold, turning its head almost arrogantly to study each of the four humans. Those deep eyes blinked, and it settled, just as though preparing to sleep. Sisipher noticed its sharp talons, but there was no blood.
Wolgren was about to speak to the bird as if he thought it would understand him, but Korbillian gently moved a step ahead of him. ‘It's quite safe,’ he breathed, then turned slowly to the others. ‘I know these birds. They are not native to Omara.’
'Ternannoc?’ said Guile.
Korbillian almost smiled. ‘I think so. And I think I know who brought them here.’ He turned back to the great Mountain Owl and stared at it. Its eyes opened and fixed his eagerly. Then it spread its wings and gave voice to a sudden piercing cry, taking to the air and swooping around the group in tight circles. Guile ducked instinctively, wary of sudden deadly talons, but Korbillian was moving again, untroubled. ‘They are not here to harm us. We must follow them.’
If Sisipher had looked on the bird in wonder, Wolgren considered it worthy of worship. He could hear the beat of wings around them and his heart leapt. To think that these glorious birds could be allies! Eagerly he followed, and though the owl that led them was mostly out of sight above, they could hear its cry.
They travelled quickly up into the high pass, and the way became even more obscured. Wolgren said they seemed to have taken a branching gully upwards from the main pass, towards the highest part of the range. ‘To the Lord of the Mountain Owls?’ he asked.
'Yes,’ said Sisipher. ‘Korbillian, isn't that what they're telling us?’
Korbillian nodded. ‘It must be. It is he who brought them. Their kind has served him for many years, as once others served him.’
'A Hierarch?’ ventured Guile.
Korbillian seemed aggrieved. ‘No, no. And not a man who had respect for them.’
'Will he help us?’
'Perhaps.’ But the word had the weight of despair.
An hour later they were above the cloud, with jutting peaks on all sides. A dozen huge Mountain Owls circled them like guardians, and the leader dropped, perching on a boulder that partially obscured a fissure in the rock wall behind it. For a moment the bird watched them, then gave another sharp cry. Behind it, from the tall crack, emerged a figure. Dressed in a long cloak that was made of a strange light pelt, it was very tall and thin, and its face was narrow with a beak-like nose that was immediately comparable to the beak of the owls. It was difficult to guess the man's age, but he moved with jerky steps, very light and agile, and seemed nervous, ready to spring away at a second's notice. Somehow there was an air of anger about him, a coldness.
Korbillian moved forward, but the owl cried out as if in a warning to him. ‘Ratillic,’ he said. ‘It has been a long time.’
'When I knew you were coming, it was not easy to decide whether to have my children lead you over a precipice, or bring you to me.’ He had not even glanced at the others.
'I am on a mission of peace.’
'I have no interest in your mission.’
'Then why did you bring us here?’
Ratillic's claw-like hands closed tightly on themselves, just as the owl's claws would grip their prey. ‘I see everything in these mountains,’ he said, apparently changing the subject. ‘Why are you here? I cannot believe you have chosen to exile yourself, as I have.’
'I have to pass through to the east, and quick
ly.’
'The east? Why?’ He seemed suddenly interested, suspicious.
'There is work to be done there. I may need your help.’
Ratillic's derisive laugh unsettled the owls about him. ‘Mine? Spare your breath, Korbillian. Oh, it may suit me to have you guided through to the other side of the mountains, but that's all. You'll get no further help from me.’
Korbillian seemed to accept that, but Guile looked angry. ‘What makes you so averse to us?’ he snapped. ‘You know nothing about us or our intentions.’
Ratillic's hands clenched and unclenched. ‘You are Guile, from the Chain of Goldenisle.’
Guile grunted as if he had been punched. ‘Yes, but—”
'And I see Wolgren of Sundhaven. And Brannog's girl. Strange company you keep, girl.’
'The owls told him,’ said Sisipher.
Ratillic looked at her and snorted. ‘They are my eyes, my ears.’
'And they speak to you,’ she added.
He seemed to respect her for her observation. ‘After a fashion.’
'You have not lost your old skills, then,’ commented Korbillian.
'No. Have you? I see your hands are sheathed. Do they frighten you?’
Korbillian winced, and Sisipher intervened, sensing a harsh exchange. ‘If your owls are wise,’ she said, ‘then they'll know you have no reason to fear us.’
'Is that so!’ Ratillic snapped.
'Ratillic,’ Korbillian cut back. ‘The past is gone. You must think of the future. Ternannoc is dead. Would you see Omara die, too?’
The Lord of the Mountain Owls looked horrified. ‘Omara? What are you saying? Why should Omara perish?’
'The shock waves of Ternannoc's death still break, even on these far shores. There is a city in the east, built on a great mound that has thrust up from the earth there. Under it festers the dark power that took root there when Ternannoc's masters opened the world-gates.’ Korbillian did not need to say more.
Ratillic looked appalled. ‘Even here?’ he gasped. ‘But it was so long ago—”
'I am sworn to destroy this evil,’ said Korbillian.
Ratillic gazed at him as if he had not heard. ‘With what?’ he growled when he had recovered a little of his composure.
Korbillian turned to his companions. ‘There are four of us. We need far more. Without help, Omara is doomed. And there are no more gates, Ratillic, no exits from this world. This time we either stand and help each other, or it is the end for us all.’
Ratillic's face darkened, as if he had been deeply insulted, and Sisipher thought that he would set the owls upon them all. Yet he seemed to wilt under Korbillian's challenge. ‘I see,’ he said quietly. ‘An ultimatum. We are all responsible, is that what you are saying? Ternannoc could have been saved if we'd all poured power into her to stop her wounds?’
'We can never know that. But Omara will die if I cannot gather enough help to save her.’
Ratillic closed his eyes, but opened them again, having come to some private decision. ‘You cannot cross the mountains yet. There is another storm coming. From the east. Which means it will be bad. My eyes are turned to the east for much of the time. I should have guessed. Disease, storms, rumours of lurking evil. Well then, come inside.’ He said something to the white owl, and at once it flew off, calling to its fellows.
Ratillic led them into the mountain and they went down a smooth-sided shaft and rough-hewn steps. Sisipher wondered who could have cut them. Ratillic had power, perhaps, but somehow the steps seemed incredibly old. There was a door beyond, and after that, to their surprise, what appeared to be more of a hall than a cave, and it had been kept in immaculate condition. There were tapestries, rugs, exquisite furniture, all of a quality that would not have been misplaced in a palace. Wolgren in particular looked amazed, but shielded his reaction quickly. He accepted that there must be powers at work here beyond his understanding.
Above them, sleeping silently on beams that were as thick as a man's waist, were owls, and although they evidently spent much time here, there was no mess, and everything was tidy and organised. Ratillic motioned his guests (Sisipher was still not sure if the word was accurate) to some of the splendidly carved seats, and they sat. Korbillian followed Ratillic to a large chest beyond which several strange globes illuminated the hall.
Sisipher turned to Guile. ‘He hates Korbillian, doesn't he?’
'So it would seem. There are many things about Korbillian I know nothing about. I have often wondered what part he played in the fall of his world. I don't know the real story.’
'Do you think he was a Hierarch?’
'I have thought that, but have never asked him. Some things weigh him down like lead. Guilt, I think.’
Korbillian returned to them while Ratillic disappeared. The owls above automatically opened their eyes and watched the people below.
'He is arranging for us to have food,’ said Korbillian.
'Can we trust him?’ said Wolgren unexpectedly, and his right hand fiddled with his knife hilt.
Korbillian made a dismissive gesture. ‘He could have killed us all easily if he had wanted to. But I think he will help. He told me he had felt something was very wrong in the east. I have merely confirmed his fear. The evil has to be opposed. What differences there are between us have to be put aside. He is wise enough to understand that.’
When Ratillic returned, he held a large dish of meat. It was raw. ‘I assume you will want this roasted?’ he said. Nobody answered, and he grinned unpleasantly, deliberately pulling a small piece of meat off the rabbit carcass and chewing it slowly while they watched. ‘It is good. Fresh,’ he told them. ‘Taken by the owls this morning.’ He pointed to the remains of a fire by one of the walls. ‘Make what preparations you will. I cannot offer you wine, but there is fresh spring water if you need it.’
Sisipher asked Wolgren to help her with the food and he leapt to her aid at once. In minutes he had a fire going, the smoke curling up the flue behind the wall, and Sisipher had the meat turning nicely in the flames. Guile watched her avidly, marveling at the lines of her face, careful not to let her see him.
'What do you know of the east?’ Korbillian asked Ratillic as they all sat around the large table.
'My owls do not go there any more. Only one has ever been beyond the Silences, the great deserts. How he managed to return here in his condition is a mystery. He died soon afterwards. He was unable to say much about what he saw there, but it would trouble the dreams of a stronger man than me. Yet still I did not suspect the truth.’
'You spoke of lurking evil,’ said Korbillian. ‘Does it have a name, a shape?’
'I think not. But like a disease, it contaminates all that go near it. If there is life in the east, it has changed.’
'Can you teach us the way to this eastern city? Have you maps?’
Ratillic smiled, but the air of contempt had not left him. ‘My maps are unique in all Omara. Unique and priceless. I would be a fool to pass on the gift of the owls, the mapmakers. But I can show you how to reach the city.’
'Is that the only help you will give us?’
'And what else should I give you? Provisions, weapons?’ Again he laughed. ‘The power to destroy?’
'I am no warrior,’ said Korbillian levelly. ‘Yet this blight has to be razed.’
'I've nothing to give you.’
'The maps. You have detailed maps. I have to find as many allies as I can. Your maps will be as detailed as your fabled maps of Ternannoc once were. That was your skill, your power, was it not? To use the birds of the air and the creatures of the land? Pity that you had so little use for men!’
'I did not use them! I make no demands. I am not their master.’
Korbillian nodded patiently. ‘But the maps.’
'And should I give them to you freely and bless you and say, “Here, Korbillian, go out and use these wisely. Free Omara. Return them to me when you are done"?’
'Are there no copies?’
'Copi
es! Each map takes years to compile! Who has time to make copies? No, there are none.’
'Then I need the originals.’
'And if I refuse?’
'That is your choice.’
Korbillian glared at Ratillic. ‘You seem to care about Omara.’
'Of course! But what can one man do against that place in the east. Ternannoc was not saved.’
Wolgren's stare was even angrier than the girl's. ‘Let me persuade him,’ he said to Korbillian.
Ratillic chuckled. ‘So the cub has fangs, eh?’
Korbillian shook his head. ‘No, that is not the way. But consider, Ratillic, if you know the extent of this evil, you must see the wisdom in opposing it.’
'I have only your word that you oppose it. Perhaps you are its servant.’
Korbillian's face darkened, even in this dim light. ‘That remark was not worthy even of you, though I should have expected no better from someone who has spent a lifetime cowering away from his responsibilities.’ There was an edge to Korbillian's voice, which spoke of the hidden power he could command, and his companions sensed danger in it.
Ratillic looked no less angry. ‘Very well. Since you insist. I have considered. I will give you what you ask—for a price.’
'Which is?’
Ratillic looked deliberately at Sisipher. ‘Leave the girl with me.’
7
CLAW AND STEEL
Wolgren leapt up and in a second had his knife at Ratillic's throat. He had moved with astonishing speed, and Sisipher was astounded. The youth used his free hand to wrench Ratillic's head back, and Korbillian had no time to move to stay the youth. Wolgren tightened his grip, but the knife was poised, the killing blow withheld.
'Wolgren!’ hissed Korbillian, appalled.
Ratillic managed a single cry. Immediately there came a flutter of wings above as the owls stirred.
'You'll die before they reach me!’ snarled Wolgren.
'Then you'll all die with me,’ gasped Ratillic.