“There are four Primal Forces…”
“Yes,” Davon said. “Fire, Water, Air, and Earth. That I know.”
“Don’t interrupt,” Ki scolded. “The Primal Forces created the Khodo, a blending of all four, in the form of a great beast. It is the fifth Primal Force, a child of the Primes. As with the other Forces, the Khodo may choose one to embody its force. You call the chosen of the Primal Flame—or the Eternal Flame, as you call it—Lord Ember. The chosen of the Khodo is Khodo Khim.”
“It was just an average female sabercat that scratched these scars into my chest. Hardly a great beast.”
“The Khodo may appear as she wishes, Brown Man.”
Davon shook his head. This was a waste of time. He needed to get back to Arianne, defend her if the courts had charged her. He gathered his bag and his gun. Ta was dragging Mr. Goodwin out of the pool, Mr. Paige already having rolled himself over the edge, leaves sticking to his soft, wet flesh.
“Even if I were this Khodo Khim, what good would it do for your people?”
Ki crouched, repacking her belongings. “The Khodo Khim can find Primal Forces. It can move any of them, as well. It was the ancient murderer Creetis who sought to destroy the Primal Forces. The Khodo Khim at the time hid them before Creetis murdered her.”
Davon had only heard that Creetis had banished the worship of the Primal Forces when he united the Northern Tribes long ago. He had actually sought to destroy them? Was destroying them even possible?
“But if only the Khodo Khim could find and move the Primal Forces, how did the Eternal Flame come to be in Joris Pulsipher’s cooking pot?”
Ki smirked. “Figure it out, Brown Man.”
Davon saw where she was going. “You’re saying that Joris Pulsipher was Khodo Khim?”
She shook her head. “No. Joris Pulsipher didn’t pull the Eternal Flame through the bitter winter mountains or across the Cloud River.”
“The Bull?”
“Your head is a little frozen, Brown Man, but I see a thawing in your eyes.”
“So you’re saying this Khodo Khim found the Primal Fire and then arranged for Joris to find it? But a bull is, well, an animal, not a man.”
“And so is the Khodo. No more questions.”
Davon shook his head as Ki wandered off to help her sister scent his two shivering companions. He had never been a student of history. The years he should have spent in school he spent trying to save his estate from destitution. The great bull that had pulled the sacred flame to Bittermarch was a national symbol. He knew of no other lore that would suggest that it had been anything other than a docile beast that had chewed straw in a pasture for the rest of its existence.
Mr. Goodwin, scented and bathed, shuffled over looking like a drowned rat. The water had plastered his bushy sideburns to his face. “I don’t like this, Davon. What do these savages want with you?”
“I don’t know, but listen carefully. They have agreed to see you safely to Hightower. It will take about three days for you to arrive. When you do, Lady Hightower may be there or she may be imprisoned.”
“Imprisoned?” he asked, brows furrowing.
“Yes. Her clerks falsely implicated her in this scheme that Mr. Paige is involved in. In either case, at Hightower you should find a Mr. Saunders. He knows me. He is an old soldier and he can advise you best on how to safely convey Mr. Paige to Bellshire and the Lord High Sheriff. Do not delay. When the Aua’Catan are done with me, I will make for Hightower and then Bellshire as quickly as I can.”
Mr. Goodwin nodded. “Very well, though you will owe me a bottle of rum for having to babysit Mr. Paige.”
Davon shook Mr. Goodwin’s hand. “Done. Feel free to administer whatever justice you see fit to get him to talk.”
The old man grinned. “You know I wouldn’t spare that filthy man a moment of pain. I just hope when they drown him they let me crank the cage down into the water.”
Davon nodded and the party split in two. Ju’Jal, his two daughters, and two of his sons took charge of him, while the rest shepherded Mr. Paige and Mr. Goodwin away from the clearing, heading east.
“Which way, Ki?” Davon asked, throwing his rifle over his shoulder.
“North out of the forest and into the mountains. And I am Ta.”
“No, you are Ki.”
Her eyebrows raised before she turned and led the way toward the primitive heart of the forest.
Chapter 33
Davon’s anxiety grew at every setting of the sun on the long journey northward. For six days they marched north at a blistering pace, keeping to the back country wildlands. The evening before they had passed Windgate, the northernmost town of Bittermarch—a place more lonely and forsaken than Frostbourne.
Windgate supported the only industry possible in the high plains: ice mining. The place was a hive of rogues and a nest of squalor, and his Aua’Catan captors steered clear of the city proper and its many clusters of rotting shacks where the itinerant workers passed their evenings. Davon’s nose twitched in disgust at the smells carried to him on the wind, odors of decay, tar, and alcohol that mixed with strands of gray smoke issuing from coal braziers.
The unforgiving rocky foothills of the northern edge of the Ice Fire Mountains provided plenty of places to scrabble by unseen, though the terrain sported little foliage other than sparse clumps of hearty junipers that had survived the brutal Wasting Wind in winter time. The hard ground and arid summer climate forced the grass to search out low bowls and shady cracks to find purchase for their roots.
That morning they stopped briefly by a gurgling brook issuing from a steep canyon ahead of them. The red granite peaks of the Ice Fire Mountains gashed into the sky, though this far north a permanent cap of ice and snow clung to their steep declines. The shape of the soaring rock was rough-hewn, like a great ax had cut down at angles, creating near vertical slopes and irregular fissures that gave the impression of a work just beginning.
Within the steep canyons and along any forgiving slope, fir trees grew in close communion one with another, roots straining into the creeks that trickled down from what water the sun could liberate from the glacial fields. A chill wind blew down the canyon and into Davon’s face, bringing with it the clean breath of pristine air that had always calmed him, invigorated his muscles, and cleared his mind. The raw, feral vista confirmed that they had left civilization far behind them, but the pleasant scene couldn’t calm his heart.
Arianne. He felt like he had abandoned her, that he should have tried harder to slip away and return to her side. He had no idea what the Aua’Catan wanted with him, or why it mattered so much whether he was Khodo Khim or not. Arianne Hightower needed his help now, and he got farther from her with every step.
Ki walked over to him, and leaned on her spear. Davon had nearly accustomed himself to their form fitting leathers and scanty jerkins. Her ice blue eyes regarded him for a moment.
“I see that you are losing the war today, Brown Man,” she said.
“How do you mean? What war?”
“Remember the reading I gave you?” she prompted.
“Yes.”
“You war is loneliness,” she said. “You are losing today.”
Davon looked away. He didn’t think she had the right of it. The war was a need to help Arianne escape false accusation and imprisonment. Though if he were honest with himself, he missed the gentle Lady Hightower a great deal.
“Why do people always ask you what the war of others is?”
“It is my gift,” she said.
“From Primal Air. That’s the leaf mark on your palms.” He had reasoned this out earlier.
“Yes.”
“So it is a discernment of people’s character?”
She shifted her weight, and Davon tried to ignore the shapes her body made when she did so. Such scandalous clothing.
“I sense what a person values and I see their war. The Aua’Catan believe that everyone has a war. It is necessary.”
“W
hy?” Davon asked.
“Everyone is given a war so that they may struggle, so they can conquer or be conquered. Even if one is weak in the world, he may be mighty in his heart. Without the war, there could be no strength, no conviction, no honor.”
Davon nodded. An interesting concept. “And what strength would a victory against loneliness give me? What conviction?”
Ki smiled. “Love, Brown Man. A love that fills. A love that is given on the one hand but restored on the other.” She paused for a moment. “I do have a question for you. What is your gift from the Primal Fire? Is it something to do with the carving you do every night? I’ve never seen anyone who can do it so quickly.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and looked away for a moment. Had she, too, sensed that he had made something for her and her sister? The wood had called to him the first night they encamped inside the Royal Wood after his capture.
“Yes,” he replied. “I see shapes in the wood and the gift helps me carve them. And I know who they are for.”
She nodded as if this were unsurprising. “The Primal Air has gifted several people in our village with skills at crafting, everything from bones to boats to leather.”
“My carvings come alive.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Really? Now that is a new thing, Brown Man. Do you have something for me?”
She does know. “Yes. And your sister.”
“Now?”
He opened his bag. “Yes.”
Her smile widened. “Ta! Come. The Brown Man has a gift for us!”
Ta, never very far from her sister, walked over, a bemused look on her face. “Is it one of his carvings? I saw him working on them.”
Ki nodded. Davon reached into his bag and pulled them out—a pair of identical snow finches. While not painted white as he would have liked to have done, they were intricate and life-like down to the individual striations on the feathers.
They reached for them, but Davon pulled them back. “Wait. I want you to command them to come to you.”
“What?” Ta asked, face perplexed.
“He says his carvings are alive,” Ki explained.
Davon extended his hands, one bird on top of each. “Extend your palms. Now, send your thoughts to the bird, command it to come to you.”
Ki got the hang of it first, her bird bursting to life and hopping from Davon’s hand to hers. Ta’s followed close after. As the sabercat carving had done for Elaine, these gifts brought wonderment and joy to the twins’ faces, and before long they had the birds flying in low circles around the camp and perching on their shoulders.
“Thank you, Brown Man,” Ki called back distractedly as she and her sisters provided demonstrations for the rest of their family.
“Perhaps we should bond him,” Ta said.
Ki giggled in response. “Maybe we should.”
Davon had no idea what they meant and didn’t feel inclined to inquire further.
Ju’Jal, grinning ear to ear, strode over. “That is an interesting gift from the Primal Fire. Quite a delight for my daughters. I thank you. They can be a rather grim pair, and it warms me to see them smile. But I do come to tell you something you may not wish to hear. We are near my home. We will see it before evening.”
“That is a relief,” Davon said, heart easing at the news. “How long will you keep me?”
“Not long, I think,” Ju’Jal answered vaguely. “But the entrance to Jun’Kal is hidden, a secret place we found during the days of that demon Creetis and his purges. You are not Aua’Catan and will be the first outsider we have brought to Jun’Kal in ages. I must ask you to go blindfolded.”
“If it will bring me closer to my release, then I will agree.”
“Thank you,” Ju’Jal said. “I mean you no dishonor.”
“None taken. Lead on.”
Ju’Jal beckoned to his daughter, Ki, and assigned her the task of tying a soft piece of well worked hide over his eyes, plunging him into darkness.
She placed the end of her spear in his hand. “Hold to this. I’ll try to keep you upright.”
The arrangement kept the pace slow as the terrain roughened, Davon stumbling on unseen rocks and rolling his feet on roots and fallen branches.
“Try not to find every one, Brown Man,” Ki admonished.
Without his sight, Davon absorbed the sounds around him. They crossed a shallow, gurgling creek twice, slippery rocks nearly sending him into the bitterly cold glacial water. As they penetrated deeper into the trees, the shadows brought a new chill but also an explosion of bird song. The scent of fir was so strong it stung his sensitive nose.
The air continued to cool as they ascended, his hike smoother as they stuck to a switchbacking trail that continued steeply upward. They stopped to eat, Ki placing food in his hand, unwilling to risk removing his blindfold. He wanted to rip it off, and not just for his own safety. He longed to see what views their hike afforded, the explorer within him hungry for a feast of new sights.
After the meal, his stumbling journey took him over a talus field that twisted his ankle more than once, past waterfalls that misted his face, and up steep inclines that required him to scrabble on three limbs while holding to Ki’s spear. The temperature dipped as the sun fell, and became colder still as they passed through an opening that robbed the sun of its strength completely. A breeze carried the cold of winter with it, stealing through his coat to bump his skin.
“We will take the blindfold off now,” Ki informed him. “I hope you are not afraid of high places.”
Davon blinked as the leather fell away from his eyes. Even though the light was weak, it took a moment to adjust his eyes to his environment. Behind him a wall of blue ice rose into the air, a small wedge shaped crack providing them entrance to a cavern that comfortably fit them all. In front of him a red granite cliff shot up fifty feet, the wall of ice curving to meet the wall of stone at the top. The ice had the appearance of a frozen waterfall.
Near the top of the high ceiling a cave entrance waited, a crack twice as high as a man and twice as wide. The Aua’Catan had chiseled hand and footholds into the granite that led up to the crack, though even with those helps, the climb seemed treacherous. As Davon watched, one of Ju’Jal’s sons started his ascent, a climb clearly familiar to him as he confidently worked his way up.
So self-assured in their skill were they that they did not wait for the first person to clear before more joined to climb. Davon went after Ki, followed by Ta and Ju’Jal.
“Always look up,” Ki cautioned him, though looking up only afforded him a view of her backside. Despite the chill, they still hadn’t layered on any more clothing.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asked.
“We are children of the North,” Ki answered. “We are a bit heartier than you southlanders.”
The rough granite provided plenty of purchase for his fingers, though the narrow slots were not suited to the thick toe of his bulky boots. He found himself balancing on the narrow tips as he pushed himself up. He had enough slips that Ta backed down, probably fearing an errant boot might find her face.
Ki helped pull him up and into the cave. While dark, a soft light leaked into the cave from just around a bend and provided enough illumination to traverse it comfortably. The entire cavern was little more than a crack in a granite wall, narrowing enough to force them to walk sideways for a short distance. At the end it widened, opening to the beautiful pearl pinks and purple blues of an evening sky.
Jun’Kal stretched before him, taking his breath for a moment. They stood on a broad shelf overlooking a forested bowl nestled at the base of the ice-capped daggers of the Ice Fire Mountains. A blue lake the color of the Aua’Catan’s eyes dominated the center of the bowl, fed by melting ice. And then he saw the source of the glowing blue moss; it ringed the shore of the lake, glowing weakly in the evening light. At night it would shine. He made a note to grab some before he left.
Slender arms of the lake shot into the forest, and huts formed of bones drape
d with furs lined the shores and hid amid the slender pines. While not an Elder Wood, the thin trunks of the fir trees shot high into the air and swayed in an evening breeze warmer that Davon would have expected.
The shelf in front of them dropped nearly two hundred feet to the valley floor where a large wooden lodge backed against the cliff edge. The long building was formed by leaning logs against a center beam and packing the spaces between the timber with daub. The Aua’Catan had cleared the wood in a wide circle in front of the building, a deep fire pit in the center big enough to host a bonfire. Totems of bone and wood surrounded the area, and well-worn paths snaked away from this gathering place to create various avenues in the woods.
White haired women and bald men milled about, and families had gathered near their huts. The smoke from several fires blanketed the forest with haze, tendrils drifting out of the wood to hover above the water.
“What do you think, Brown Man,” Ki asked, leaning on her spear. “Do you miss your cobbled streets and houses so big one could get lost in them?”
Davon regarded her, finding her eyes teasing. “It is a beautiful place,” he commented truthfully. The primitive simplicity of the scene spoke to his heart. “Though a warm meal and a warm bed do sound appealing at the end of a long journey.”
“Come,” Ki beckoned. “While not your Bellshire, you will find that Jun’Kal is not without its comforts.”
Their party left, walking along the shelf as it descended to a rocky talus field where a path had been cleared among the rock. After this, they switchbacked through the woods until they emerged at the clearing in front of the lodge.
Ju’Jal called to Ki and Ta. “I go to speak with the A’Kor and the T’Mak. Prepare him. My sons, keep the people from him.”
Ta sauntered over, a grin on her face. “What my father and Ki have likely neglected to tell you is that we kill outsiders. Amusing how we left that detail out, isn’t it?”
Her tone was teasing, but her sister nodded in agreement. “Yes. But don’t fear, Brown Man. If you are Khodo Khim, you will be afforded your place here.”
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