by Ashley Capes
“Then we must be on our guard,” he said. “What of the stove?”
Luis took them behind the bar and into the kitchen. Empty shelves and cold steel only, with a giant table between. No knives or ladles, not even a frying pan remained. But the stove did appear functional, with flint and tinder in a box nearby, so Never sent Luis and Tsolde outside to collect fuel while he barricaded the back door.
Upstairs he found enough bedding in the empty rooms to make the kitchen floor comfortable and then checked on the room with the unmade bed. An empty water flask and a blunted dagger lay beside the cot.
He crouched, lifting the blade. No unique markings. Who had slept here? Why had they left? And more importantly, why visit such a place to begin with? Perhaps it was a final survivor of some calamity that had befallen the village. If so, was the person who’d slept here the same who’d made bone-shrines all over the village? The scene in the common room?
Never returned to the kitchen to find a flickering light. Luis had started the fire and Tsolde was laying her still-damp tunic across the table near the stove. Her undergarments clung and revealed a little too much of her figure.
For years now he’d been watching out for her, whenever he’d passed through Lenan he made time to visit, and it was a little unnerving to see her changing. He’d grown accustomed to thinking of her as a child, despite evidence to the contrary. After all, she’d been running the Young Stag for years now. He should have known better.
“Stop staring,” she told him without looking up from where she was arranging her boots before the stove.
“You’ll catch a cold.”
“Not with that fire,” she said as she moved to her section of floor and pulled the blankets over her with a frown, no doubt at the musty scent of the unused fabric. “And I’m taking the last watch, so my clothes will be dry by then.”
“And I’ll take first watch,” Luis said. He loaded a few larger pieces into the stove and gave a little nod of satisfaction.
“Wake me when it’s my turn then,” Never said, then removed and arranged his own cloak, tunic and boots before crawling into his makeshift bed where he lay back, the crackling of the fire washing over him, its growing warmth a blessing.
Even the strange bones were not enough to keep him from sleep.
***
“All clear,” Luis said when he woke Never.
“Good. I’m not in the mood for a surprise.”
Luis grinned, keeping his voice soft. “I left that cloak up there too. It’s no stove but it’s better than nothing.”
“Thanks.”
Never climbed the stairs and found the cloak draped over a chair which Luis had obviously taken from the common room. It had been set before the dusty window-pane and Never shivered as he wrapped the garment around his shoulders.
Only the stars graced the clearing below, the bones hard to discern, the other buildings mostly lost in shadow. If anyone was out there, they were holed up somewhere themselves.
The watch passed slowly and he stood to check downstairs twice, returning to his chair each time. The seat was hard and unforgiving – that and the cold kept him awake at least. Never lifted his legs and stretched them on the window-sill, releasing a long sigh.
“That’s my cloak.”
The voice had spoken in Hanik, soft and raspy. The following words seemed to be about an arrow.
Never froze.
Had Jenisan’s men caught up to them? Never might not have understood all of what the voice said, but he answered as best he could. “My Haniker is poor.”
“How about Marlosi?” the voice asked, the words clear but slow, as if unused for a long time.
“Better.”
“Are you planning to stay in Garmedl long then?”
Never frowned. The fellow didn’t seem to be one of Elina’s men. What did he want? “Just until morning. We are merely travelling through.”
“Ah. Like all the rest.” A creak of wood. “Few come to Garmedl any more, you see. I’m waiting for the others to return home.”
The other villagers? Never resisted the urge to turn. There was still the threat of the arrow and who knew what else. The fellow had entered the room without making a single sound.
“Are they due to return soon?”
“Any day now.” Another creak, as if the man shifted his weight. “So, stranger. What brings Marlosi folk like you two and a young Hanik girl together in these parts?”
“We’re heading for the Iron Pass,” Never said. “But an avalanche forced us to take a bit of a detour. Would you know of a swift path we might take by chance?”
“Might do. Head north out of the village and take the trail marked with an old snake. You’d better watch out however, there’s a strange fellow up that way. Seen him a few times and he doesn’t like anyone going near his caves.”
“We’ll steer clear of him then, thank you.”
“As well you should.” He cleared his throat. “Stranger, I want to ask. Have you seen...”
Never waited.
“No, never mind. I’ll check myself, seems best. Don’t want to trouble you folk.”
“Can I help?”
“Just little Ali’s pet; she’s missing.”
Ali? What pet? “I don’t mind helping search, but wouldn’t it be easier in the daylight?” he asked.
Nothing. Was the fellow mulling it over? Raising his bow, drawing the arrow back?
“Hello?”
Never turned his head, slowly.
An empty doorframe behind him. He stood, letting the cloak fall from his shoulders. Not a single trace of the man. Never crept into the hallway and followed it to the next room. Within, an open window and just beyond it, one of the arms of the great pine. The needles were still, their scent sharp in the night.
Where had the man gone?
Never returned to his post and leant up against the window. Had that been a flicker of movement in the house with the rodent bones? Too hard to tell. He strained his ears in the dark but there were no sounds either, just a faint snore from Luis below. Never sat back. Odd.
When it was time to wake Tsolde he warned her about the man. “I don’t think he’ll return or that he even means us harm somehow, but be prepared.”
She nodded. “I will.”
He handed her the cloak then added a few more pieces of wood to the fire before lying back and closing his eyes. If the stranger was waiting for the village to return, it seemed he’d be waiting for a long time.
And maybe that explained the skeletons.
Chapter 8.
Standing in the common room, Never groaned as he rubbed his temples. A fitful remainder to his night’s sleep left him battling an aching head but water would probably help. The stove had done its job drying everything out; shame that included his mouth.
“No more visits from strange men then?” he asked Tsolde. She was tying sheets together into a makeshift knapsack, to which Luis was adding flint and tinder. A similarly constructed sheet seemed to contain blankets.
“None,” she said. “Sure you didn’t imagine him?”
He shook his head. “Not a chance. I’d remember if a man appeared and told me he’d made these shrines.”
Luis paused. “The man told you that?”
“Not in so many words, though I have a theory about the village of Garmedl,” Never said. “But I need water first. Luis, check the back trail, I’ll see what I can find in the way of water. Tsolde, finish up here and join me.”
“Right.”
The rising sun cast a green tint across the clearing before the inn, revealing the grime and dirt clinging to many of the bones. As he’d assumed in the night, all were animals. The little shrines had not been disturbed overnight and there was no sign of fresh animal droppings anywhere. Did even animals avoid the village?
None of the houses contained water barrels or anything else of use but a well-worn path led between two buildings and ended at a dry riverbed. The same waterway they’d found near the rock-turtle’s lair, no doubt.
And maybe that explained why Garmedl was deserted.
Footsteps approached. Tsolde moved along the trail, arms full of their knapsacks. “What did you find?”
“The river is empty here. Something must have blocked it higher up. That’s why the people left the village.”
She nodded. “But it doesn’t explain the skeletons.”
“Perhaps it does.”
“How?”
“Our mysterious friend is waiting for people who will never return. I think he tried to make up for it in a somewhat troubling manner.”
Her expression fell. “If that’s true... it’s sad.”
“Yes.”
He continued his search, heading north of the village where he found a crossroad – a slab of chiselled rock shaped as a snake had been placed in the centre of the trail heading northeast.
It left two other directions, both marked by a wooden sign.
Tsolde pointed to the fading words. “King’s Road to the east and west lies another village – Drylh. Perhaps that’s where the people of Garmedl went.”
“And the snake?” Never asked.
“No idea,” she said. “It looks like a warning, doesn’t it?”
“Indeed. Let’s find Luis before we make any decisions, but our mystery man did suggest the Snake-path was a detour we might take.”
“Do you trust him?”
“Well, I don’t imagine he would want to mislead us.”
“That’s something.”
Luis was waiting back in the village clearing. “No sign of pursuit,” he said.
“Let’s hope they’ve given up on the tunnel then.”
“But I did find a cemetery,” Luis said. “Which you’ll want to see. A rivulet runs beside it too.”
“More surprises?” Never asked.
“For a cemetery, it’s pretty empty.” Luis led them down another path, this one running behind the inn.
As they walked, Never caught glimpses of headstones of old wood, rotting where they stood. When he entered the graveyard he sighed. Empty holes beneath most of the markers. A shovel still stood in the earth beside one grave, silvery cobwebs strung within the handle. The sound of trickling water filled the hush.
“Now we have an explanation for the skeletons,” Tsolde said softly.
“We do.”
Luis glanced at him. “Your lonesome friend?”
“The fellow who spoke to me last night, yes. He is lonely, it seems. There’s an empty riverbed that likely drove the villagers to abandon this place. The man suggested a way around the avalanche, if we want to try it.” He added the warning the survivor of Garmedl offered, about the man seen around the mountain caves.
“Ah.” Luis paused. “Then do you think we can take his word about the path?”
“He didn’t strike me as one for guile,” Never said. He moved around some of the markers and knelt beside the tiny stream, no more than a trickle within another dry bed. “And the Iron Pass is, essentially, northward. The snake trail heads in the same direction. I think we can trust his word for now.”
Luis nodded as he joined Never and handed over a flask. “From the kitchen,” he said.
Never filled it. “Good.”
Then it was back to the trail, climbing through the wooded snake-path until the vista opened up around mid-morning. The trail swung around an outcropping, offering a view down to the King’s Road.
Far below, steel reflected off the still-rising sun as figures marched the twisting road. Vadiya. Even from a distance, the sheer bulk of their armour was clear. The line of soldiers would soon be lost to sight, heading beneath an arch that served as a gate to the higher peaks and eventually the silver mines.
“There’s someone Jenisan should be more concerned by,” he said.
“Have they taken the mines then?”
“Hard to say. If Jenisan hasn’t caught all the traitors, the Vadiya might have it already.”
Tsolde was glaring down at them. “So are they leaving or arriving?”
“Hard to say. They might have been sent down but the avalanche stopped them. If so, they’ll be back with tools, that’s for sure.”
“If Elina’s party has the same thought, that will put them in each other’s path,” Luis said.
He was right. And there was little chance her small force would survive such an encounter. And she didn’t deserve that. But there was no way to help her. Never rubbed his neck. No way to warn them either. His fear was not only for the knowledge he might lose if Elina were killed. Despite all the promises he’d made to himself about letting others grow close, he didn’t want to be responsible, however indirectly, for yet another death – he simply didn’t want her to die.
Not in any circumstances.
“Don’t underestimate her, Never,” Luis said. “I doubt she’d let herself be surprised.”
He nodded slowly. “True enough. We keep climbing then.”
Each step had the dull thud of betrayal... but he strode on anyway. Luis was right; she’d take care of herself. And if he tried to find a way down, she’d only try and clap him in chains for His Royal Majesty the Fool.
Although, the man was only a fool if he was wrong about the Amouni.
And Never didn’t know enough to truly agree or disagree with the man yet. Jenisan was only trying to protect his people and seek vengeance for the death of his father. Mistaken, but understandable.
“Still, you’re not having my head,” he muttered.
Noon came and passed when the trail sharpened into a set of steps leading up to a huge carving of dark stone. A snake’s head at rest. It looked as if it were protruding from the very mountain. Fangs peeked from its mouth and the eyes were sealed shut, moss crawling across the surface and grey pine needles caught in the ridges of brow and the slits of the nose.
Never paused to stare, circling the base of the steps. “Magnificent,” he said.
“Must be fifteen feet easily,” Luis said.
“See here,” Never pointed. The body curled along the mountain, darker ridges of stone almost like stripes. It followed the bends of the King’s Road far below. From that vantage point, doubtless few would be able to discern what lay high above them, obscured by trees or mist.
“I think there are gaps in the stone,” Luis said.
Tsolde snapped her fingers. “I know what this is. It’s the Serpent’s Tail; the old mountain kings made it as an escape from their keep. You can reach the ruins but I don’t know if anyone has found the way down the tail.”
Never frowned up at the closed mouth. “And it looks like we’re going to have some trouble with the head.”
“Didn’t the man from Garmedl say this was a path?”
“Maybe he hasn’t used it in the last hundred years,” Never said. “And that’s why he didn’t realise it was closed.”
“Very funny.”
“There’s the man he warned us about too,” Luis said.
Never hefted his makeshift pack. “Let’s eat first. These berries and nuts we found are just the thing I need to solve this problem.”
“Whatever closes your mouth,” Tsolde said sweetly.
Chapter 9.
“Well, I’m out of ideas,” Never said, slapping one of the snake’s fangs.
He did his best to unclench his jaw. Nothing had worked – no hidden levers or buttons, no false stones, no trick with weights or pressure that he or Luis could discern, nothing to do with blood either.
The slithering stone bastard had beaten them.
“Do we turn back?” Tsolde asked. Her expression was no less frustrated as she kicked at a rock. It
tumbled down the steps.
Never glanced to the sky. The sun was dipping between distant peaks, golden light crossing the gorges to splash against the snake, creeping along the body toward the head. Hours! All afternoon struggling with it. A waste of time in the end. “I don’t know. We’ll lose time – days even, if we do. And that might not matter in the short term, but one bad storm and who knows, we might be in serious trouble.”
“Have we tried everything?” Luis asked.
Never sighed. “Boost me up again, I’ll take one more look on top.”
Luis did as instructed. Never gripped the lid of the closed eye and pulled himself the rest of the way up. Atop the snake’s head waited little but scattered needles and the damp remains of what was once a puddle. The body extended along as if emerging from the very cliffs but that was no help. It ended at a sharp angle of walls, swallowed within, and possessing no climbing material, they had little chance of scaling the sheer rock face.
The cracks further along the body, those that gave the appearance of stripes, were too narrow to squeeze between and again, there were no heavy tools on hand to break in, if that were even possible. It left the head or mouth of the serpent itself.
He knocked against the head, kicking at odd-coloured patches of stone as he searched. Nothing new. No hidden switches.
“Any luck?”
“Nothing,” he said. He stamped a boot against the head. “Pacela’s Curse.” He stamped again, hitting harder this time.
A boom echoed and stone cracked against stone, dust rising.
Never fell into a crouch, arms outstretched... but nothing else happened. He looked up to the stone walls before him. Nothing.
“You two hurt?” he called.
Luis laughed. “No, but you should see this.”
Never peered over the edge. The jaw had fallen open – sinking into the ground to reveal steps leading up the throat. A clever mechanical device? No matter – it was open! He climbed down and dusted his hands. “I should have stomped on his head earlier.”