The Book of Never: Volumes 1-5

by Ashley Capes

  Chapter 5.

  “She looks furious,” Luis added.

  Never began to pace, echoing Tsolde. Was Elina furious at being forced into the position of chasing him down, or just furious with him? Hard to say with her; she seemed to have strong feelings for the King and no doubt Jenisan had been quick to exercise leverage over her. “How close?”

  “They’re moving slowly, in case of ambush, but we need to do something.”

  “Damn.”

  Tsolde caught his arm. “Think of something, Never.”

  “Did you think I was writing a ballad?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Listen. We cannot pass them and there is nowhere to hide. The door is sealed – that leaves negotiation. She will spare the two of you if I surrender,” he said.

  Luis shook his head. “No. That’s not a solution.”

  “It is, my friend – just not one you were hoping for,” he said. “I won’t have either of you hurt on my account.”

  The treasure-hunter muttered a curse. Tsolde resumed pacing, twisting the ends of her braid.

  The clicking of stone on stone broke the silence.

  A rock-turtle was climbing from the stream, its heavy feet clacking across the path. The name was deceptive – it was no true turtle, but its slow gait and stony skin gave it enough similarities. The creature stood no taller than a turtle but its head was broader, flatter – the hard ridges of its mouth were used to crush tough beetle shells and crack the scales of fish.

  In the water, it was far more agile – on land it was slow, four feet gripping the stone. But its rock-like skin allowed it to blend in. He’d once sat upon one by accident, something it didn’t appreciate if the rasping growl had been any indication.

  Tsolde waved to the creature. “Look – a Tremasch. We’re saved.”

  He frowned. “How?”

  “They often live in pods, under rocky streams like this.”

  “I can’t hold my breath very long, you know.”

  She shook her head. “No. Listen – they only choose safe places, always two exits. It stops them being caught by mountain-trappers.”

  Never brushed aside the question of why anyone would hunt such creatures. “How can you be sure?”

  “Just trust me,” she said. “If we swim down, there will be a way out.”

  “But how far?” Luis asked. “What if the other exit is halfway across the mountain?”

  “I’ll check,” she said.

  Never frowned. How dangerous was it? The echo of voices from below drifted up. No time. “Quickly, then.”

  Tsolde dropped her pack to the stone and stepped into the stream, diving below with a muffled cry at the cold, no doubt. Never strode forward, bending by the edge. Tsolde’s figure swam down into the murk, a pale smudge.

  “We’re running out of time,” Luis said. “If she doesn’t find anything...”

  “I can still surrender.”

  Luis only glanced over his shoulder to where the voices had died down. Never followed the man’s gaze but no-one appeared – yet. Back to the water and Tsolde was breaking the surface.

  “There is a way – I see light,” she said. Her lips had already turned faintly blue.

  A shout rose from their back trail.

  “Go,” Never cried, dragging Luis toward the water. The spearman fell with a splash. “I’ll hold them off then follow,” he added when Luis surfaced, eyes wide.

  “Never, wait,” Tsolde said.

  “Don’t waste it,” he hissed. She clenched her teeth but took a deep breath and ducked below the water.

  “Swear it,” Luis said, his mouth a firm line.

  “I swear.”

  Luis followed Tsolde and Never stood to fold his arms. Men climbed the trail, slowing and spreading out as they noticed his figure standing in the near-darkness. The lead soldier, a stout fellow with a heavy beard, signalled to those behind him. The Hanik men bore bows and short swords but did not draw.

  Though the leader’s words were in Hanik, he’d obviously sent for Elina.

  “Long night, eh?” Never asked them.

  No-one spoke. Some of the men shifted their feet as they waited. One knelt to ready a lantern, its warm glow soon spreading over the rocks. What were their orders? Still no-one had made a threatening move but how long would that last? Perhaps they were afraid of his curse. More likely, Jenisan wanted him alive – a public execution seemed the man’s style.

  A shorter figure approached, resolving into Elina, her hair tied into a plait and her bow gripped in a gloved hand. Dark rings of weariness circled her eyes. Her expression was one of surprise. “Never? Where’s Luis and the girl?”

  “I sent them back down the mountain,” he said. “It was safer.”

  She shook her head. “We didn’t pass anyone.”

  “Must have been while you were napping.”

  “You know why I’ve come.”

  He took a chance. “I know you were forced into this.”

  Elina pressed her lips together. She nodded to one of the men behind her. The fellow brought forth a net with weighted points. “Never, I want this to be peaceful. Don’t make me hurt you,” she said.

  He spun a knife into his hand, slipping it from an inner sheath, and held it poised over his palm. “I make you the same offer.”

  “Each of these men have families, Never. People who care for them. Many have children – I know you won’t hurt them.”

  Never smiled a sad smile. “Only if you force me.”

  Silence fell between them. One of her men swallowed and Elina cast her bow down where it clattered across the stony trail. “Damn you, he won’t accept failure, Never. Even from me. Surrender.”

  “And walk merrily to my death?” There was no-one to protect now, Luis and Tsolde would have had time to escape. Giving up might have kept Elina from following them, but giving up also meant giving up on answers. No. He’d searched too long.

  And there was still Snow to confront.

  Time to make his own exit.

  “I can try and convince him, Never. He will listen –”

  “His Royal Highness does not care for my kind, Elina. He would kill me no matter the accident that led us here.”

  She glanced away – was it shame? She knew she couldn’t convince her King, knew her words had been empty; he saw it in her posture. But when Elina turned back, her eyes had hardened. “You’re not leaving me any choice.”

  “True.” Never grinned as he sheathed his blade. “Careful if you follow.”

  Confusion registered in her eyes. He spun and dived into the stream. Cold enveloped him, numbing his hands and face, and darkness ruled. He swam down, kicking hard with hands outstretched as he searched for the opening. Distant cries faded above as his fingers closed over the rim of a narrow opening. Never dragged himself into the tunnel, scrambling for hand-holds. He pulled himself along, kicking until his lungs began to strain.

  But there was light.

  It glowed above, streaming down in pale green.

  Never reached for it, fighting the pain in his chest and exhaling a stream of bubbles as he neared the light source – and exploded forth with a gasp.

  He blinked water from his eyes.

  A luminous cavern surrounded him, a high roof covered in glowing stone shapes. Something in the stone possessed its own glow, he’d seen it before; an eerie light. The pool he treaded water within was lined with more of it and he swam over to a gap, pulling himself free where he lay across the stone, shivering a moment.

  “Never?”

  He looked up. Luis and Tsolde, both miserable-looking and drenched, rushed around from one of the green columns. “Who else?” he said with a grin, unable to stop his teeth chattering.

  Chapter 6.

  “Where are we then?” he asked. He
brushed a finger across the nearest stone and it came away with a faint glowing powder. Nearby, a groove in the ground revealed recent scuff marks – the dwelling of the rock-turtle?

  “An underground cave of some sort,” Luis said. “Bigger than I was expecting, that’s for certain.”

  Tsolde jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “The Tremasch has a path, it leads outside – I can feel the air further along.”

  “Elina?” Luis asked.

  “She’s up there with a dozen men, maybe more. I doubt anyone will follow at first, but we should hurry. If they all swim down they’ll probably stage then set out together – they’re afraid of me,” he said. And why shouldn’t they be? Yet he kept most of the bitterness from his voice.

  Tsolde led them quickly between the green columns to the sound of their boots squelching. It echoed in the cavern until the faint stirring of air met his face and Tsolde brought them to a halt. She knelt by a small opening – again, something they’d have to crawl – or wriggle – through in order to reach the other side.

  “I’ll go first,” she said, sticking her head into the tunnel.

  “Careful,” he said.

  “I know, I know.”

  Once Tsolde was through, Luis followed, pausing at one point. “Trouble?” Never asked.

  Luis shifted and dragged himself forward. “It gets tight in the middle – just take a deep breath.”

  Never sighed but when he reached the narrow part of the passage he was able to reach for handholds ahead, suck in the night air and haul himself through with little difficulty, and only a moment’s discomfort as what seemed to be the weight of the entire mountain pressed upon him.

  And then Luis was helping him to his feet on the banks of another stream, this one empty of water, and only a jumble of rocks beneath. New starlight softened the hard edges. The scent of pine drifted across from the opposite bank.

  He shivered. How inviting, the pines – whatever shelter they offered would be most welcome. And with no supplies, no climbing equipment, food or fire-making tools – they were in for a rough night.

  “Can we close the opening?” Luis asked.

  Never pointed to the dry riverbed. “If we pile up enough heavy rocks, we’d slow them at the very least. How’s your back feeling?”

  “It’s shivering in anticipation.”

  Never chuckled as he climbed into the riverbed.

  Tsolde straightened. “Won’t that block the Tremasch?”

  “He’ll find another home,” Never said as together, he and Luis lifted the first stone. The largest they could handle, they carried it to the edge of the bed then started to build a pile. Tsolde joined them, collecting smaller pieces and stacking them beside the tunnel.

  Once they had enough stone, Never and Luis used the pile to help themselves lift the biggest ones out, grunting and muttering curses as they worked. Once the tunnel was half-covered, they returned for the stepping stones and added them to the top – sealing the opening as Tsolde added the smaller pieces, wedging them between gaps.

  Never leant against the wall, breathing hard a moment. “Not bad.” It would hold up any who tried to follow for some time. Without any way to bring leverage of bodyweight, let alone grip the stones well, Jenisan’s men would be hard-pressed to clear the blockage.

  With luck, they’d give up and seek a different path.

  Or head back.

  Which might mean trouble for Elina... yet Jenisan would be disappointed, yes. Not crazed, surely? She was a smart girl; she’d be able to take care of herself.

  He made to push himself from the wall but his limbs were slow to respond. How long since he’d slept? No matter – he had to keep moving. If they tried to set up a camp, they’d all freeze and die from exposure while they slept. “We have to keep walking,” Never said.

  “How long?” Tsolde asked. Her hair still clung to her head, braid glistening.

  “Until we dry off or come across a nice, warm forest fire,” he said.

  “Into the trees then?” Luis asked. “I think I see a trail.”

  Never waved a hand. “Lead on.”

  The wood on the opposite side of the dry riverbed climbed with the mountain, pine needles littering the ground. Enormous branches spread over the trail, blocking the stars. The path twisted back around on itself, sending them downhill for a little while. When it began to climb again, Luis stopped, flipping his spear into his grip.

  A white owl screeched, flying soundlessly overhead.

  Luis chuckled then continued.

  They moved higher into the wood.

  Near midnight a waning moon peered through the needles and Never found himself blinking at the dark trail before him. His clothes had dried somewhat but the air still chilled him as he walked. Tsolde was muttering to herself and Luis strode on without complaint, soon slipping into a crouch and waving them forward.

  Never knelt beside Tsolde. “Luis?”

  He pointed with his spear, moonlight glinting on the blade. “I think there’s a village ahead. See, beyond the fallen tree.”

  A tiny glow rested between dark shapes. They might have been buildings, they might have been more trees and the light was hard to pinpoint. Was it simply moonlight reflecting off something? A slight breeze rustled the needles, bringing with it the faint scent of woodsmoke.

  “Woodsmoke,” he said.

  “Is it safe?” Luis asked.

  “Some of the mountain-folk are quite standoffish,” Tsolde said, frowning toward where the glow had been.

  “We might have to risk it – we need shelter,” Never said as he pulled himself upright courtesy of a low-hanging branch. “My legs are beginning to feel like water.”

  Never drew a knife and led the way along the trail, closing in on the first large shadow – which was a hut. His boots crunched and he stopped. No movement or sound from the building.

  He lifted his foot and squinted in the dark.

  Something pale, thin... bones.

  “Tread carefully,” he said, keeping his voice low.

  Further along, more bones, strewn about the path between buildings. All small and thin, most birds or small animals, it seemed. Fragile rib cages were broken and skulls peeked from piles of needles. In a patch of moonlight ahead, a collection had been arranged into something of a small shrine.

  A clearing appeared.

  Ringed by more shadowy shapes of houses, it was easier to discern uneven thatch in the rooves, sagging eaves and boarded-up windows.

  Deserted? Or something worse? The clearing appeared to be a bone-yard, littered with slender bones, the larger pieces made into small piles. Some were crowned by skulls – he saw fox, deer and even something that might have been a cracked bear-skull.

  “What is this place?” Tsolde asked.

  “Abandoned, I hope,” Never said. He approached the nearest home, its door ajar and called softly within.

  Nothing.

  He nudged the door open with the butt of a knife. Rusted hinges screamed and he winced. But nothing stirred within. The moonlight revealed an empty floor and another collection of bones; this time rodents, which was obvious, since one pile had been arranged into an accurate reconstruction of a rat.

  “Luis, start checking the other houses. We’re looking for something secure and easily defended,” he said. Tsolde looked up at him. “You’re staying with me,” he said.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t do that.”

  “Try to protect you?”

  “I can protect myself – I shouldn’t have to remind you of all people.”

  “Humour me while we’re here and once we’ve found a good spot you can take first watch.”

  She caught his arm. “Never.”

  He met her fierce gaze and couldn’t help smiling. Her mother had the same look whenever she’d tried to convince Tsolde to fol
low her wishes. “I’m not being careful because I doubt your ability to take care of yourself.”

  “Then let me help.”

  “I will. And don’t forget who got us out of trouble back there. How do you know so much about rock-turtles?” he said as he led her to the next home and glanced inside. Another bone collection – this time they formed a pattern where they rested upon a table.

  “A regular. He’s a hunter and he stays at the Stag once a season and he’s a good storyteller.”

  “Well, I’m glad he is.”

  “Me too,” she said. The tension had left her voice. A good thing too – he didn’t need her pushing so hard.

  “How about this one?” Luis called from the opposite side of the clearing.

  He’d found a two storey inn built beneath a huge pine, its limbs spreading over the roof, generations of needles covering the thatch. At least it had a better-looking roof than the other homes.

  “There’s a stove; looks like it’ll burn. We can use dried needles for kindling and there’s plenty of fuel around,” he said. “The upper floor gives a good vantage point of most of the village too.”

  “Let’s try it out,” Never said. “Can’t be worse than any of the others.”

  Luis gave a grimace. “Well, there are some strange bones in this place.”

  “Stranger than out there?” Tsolde asked.

  “You decide,” Luis said, pushing the door open with one arm.

  Chapter 7.

  The first room was empty of all but dust on creaking floorboards. Two doors led out – one into a cloakroom where a single, oiled cloak hung on a peg. Musty, but still whole.

  The common room, in contrast, was full.

  Men, women and children sat at square tables in the silence of death, their bones pale in the moonlight. Some held empty cups, others had been posed as if talking. One mother had an arm resting around the shoulder of a smaller skeleton; and at the bar, the innkeeper’s skull had fallen askew.

  Never shivered. Who would do such a thing and why?

  “They’re held together with a resin and sticks and string,” Luis said. “Someone has slept upstairs in one of the rooms but I cannot say when. Some time ago, it seems.”