by Ashley Capes
Tsolde snorted. “Look at the snake’s eyes.”
Golden light now covered the serpent’s head and the eyes were open, some manner of onyx set as pupils. “The sunset opened the way?”
“I’d say so,” she said.
Never shook his head but he was smiling. “In we go then.”
“Can we be sure it’s safe?” Luis asked.
“No. But I’m confident neither Jenisan nor the Vadiya will bother us here. And the hermit of Garmedl thought this path could take us to the Iron Pass.”
“And the strange man he mentioned? The one who doesn’t like visitors?”
“We’ll be watching for him too.”
Never stepped into the mouth and into the body. A broad tunnel stretched before them, thin pillars of golden light cutting across from the sunset. As he walked, his feet stirred dust which climbed into the air to glitter. Beautiful.
Behind him, Luis gave a cough. “Damn dust.”
The snake’s body continued to turn with the mountain, naught but dust on the floor. Orange splashed across the opposite wall and a chill breeze snuck in through the same openings. He knelt once to examine the floor.
“What is it?”
A brass button, tarnished from rain, lay in a small crevice. “Nothing of note,” he said and moved on. “But people have been in here after the old mountain kings.”
Night began to fall, and shadow with it. The tunnel grew dark, but not so dark that he did not see a gaping hole in the floor. Wind stirred up from the mighty drop below, the dark green of pine climbing the crevice. The gap was wide enough to leap across but as the evening darkened, any similar holes might come as a nasty surprise indeed.
“Once we’ve passed this it might be time to consider stopping for the night,” Never said.
Luis nodded. “Agreed.”
“Too bad we can’t start a fire – it’s going to be cold in here,” Tsolde said.
Never backed up. “Better than outside at least.”
He ran forward then leapt across the gap, landing easily. Tsolde followed, then Luis. They moved away from the hole and the cold wind, picking a spot some distance from openings in the wall too, and spread their bedrolls.
More berries and nuts for their cold meal, all of which had been foraged while struggling to open the snake door, along with some of their dwindling water. Never took first watch. It was cold and uneventful, he sought his thin bed, stone eating through the blanket, and wrapped his cloak around his torso.
By dawn he was ready to leave, aching and cold, breath steaming in the air despite having slept close to the others, he and Luis protecting Tsolde. “Onward,” he said, after they’d each sipped from the flask.
“We’ll need more of this soon.” Tsolde passed the flask to Luis.
“If it looks like this path is going to take us nowhere we’ll turn back and resupply,” he said. “We have enough for two days if we’re frugal. I’m hoping this passage climbs to the surface well before then.”
“Can’t hurt to look a little further,” Luis said.
Never led them further along the serpent’s tail until reaching another hole in the path, this one wide enough that it could not be leapt. Instead, he had to cling to the sides of the snake’s body and inch his way across uneven footing. Sometime in the past, someone had bolted hand-holds into the wall, making the task easier. A cruel wind threw his cloak about but he crossed without looking down. Luis followed, leaving Tsolde on the other side.
Her face was pale but she took the first step after a deep breath, gripping the rusted rungs with white knuckles.
“Just a little farther,” Never said when she reached the halfway point.
“Let me concentrate,” she snapped. “Why did they make such a dangerous trail anyway?”
He waited by the edge of the stone. Tsolde reached for the last hand hold, stretching her foot toward firm ground.
Stone cracked.
She screamed, limbs flailing. Never lunged. He snapped his hand over her wrist, jerking her to safety. She gripped him, whole body trembling. His own heart thundered. With her cheek pressed against his chest, it probably deafened her.
“You’re safe,” he told her.
She took a shuddering breath. “Thank you, Never.”
“Need a moment?”
“No, let’s keep going. Get me away from the edge.”
Never led her further along, passing through bars of light where they cut through the wall. Ahead lay only darkness where the mountain swallowed the tail. Too bad the blue-stone was lost. Elina probably had it. Had she avoided the Vadiya? He could only hope.
He paused at the limits of the light. Barely visible was a series of steps – leading up. Hope? Or a fool’s hope? “If there’s no change by nightfall, we turn back. We’ll still have enough water to reach that mountain pool back beneath the entrance,” he said. “Objections? Ideas? Anything?”
“You could roll those lucky dice of yours,” Luis said.
Never patted an inner pocket of his vest – drawing out die and the marble figurine. “Hold this a moment, will you?” He asked Tsolde. She accepted the crystal, glad of the distraction it seemed by the way she examined the figure within.
“Think this will help?” he asked Luis.
The spearman shrugged. “Why not? I seem to remember them getting you out of a few shifts at the oar back on the Carene.”
Never grinned. “Very well.” He turned back and held the Amouni die up to the faint light and pointed to one side. “See this symbol – like three fingers on a hand? It’s lucky. The coil is too, if you’re playing Houses.”
“What about that one? Looks like a lightning bolt hitting a V,” Luis said.
“In some games if you roll that you lose your hand.”
“Ah.”
Never crouched across from Luis and tossed the die. It rattled over the stone and bounced from Luis’ boot.
Luis bent and paused, hand hovering over the die a moment.
“Well?”
“Maybe you should roll again,” he said, lifting it to show the side with the lightning bolt.
Never scratched at his beard. Whenever he and Snow had rolled the bolt in the past, the outcome had been trouble. Like the first time they’d attempted to scale the walls of the palace in Isacina. Or when the scum took Zia into the tar pits, he and Snow had used it to decide who would try follow and who would return to ask Mal for help. Never had been the loser that time and Snow the eventual hero, but at a cost...
Hard to imagine a poorer omen.
“Never, something’s happening.” A hint of concern filled Tsolde’s voice. “Is the little man supposed to move?”
“At times.”
She placed the marble into his palm. In the dim light the fellow cowered, hands over his head. Something in the air changed – a tightness, a sense of indrawn breath. And heat. Heat? He turned to the stair. Nothing but darkness.
“Something is happening,” he said. “Be ready.”
“For what?” Tsolde asked.
“Anything. Everything.”
Luis set his tied blanket aside and flipped his spear into both hands, holding it across his chest. Tsolde lifted her dagger. Never drew his own blades. He nearly swore when his blood pulsed in his veins, as if eager to meet whatever danger was coming.
The sense of warmth grew – the change in air came from their back-trail. Never swallowed. Something wrong approached. There was no sound, no light but it was clear enough; his very blood was responding.
Silvery light flashed. A heavy thud followed, vibrations running along the tunnel. Never took a step forward. “Be ready to run. Up the stair.”
Light faded, revealing a black figure glimmering with an iridescence that seemed to lurk beneath oily skin. Heat surged from it, buffeting Never’s face, even from a distance. The
thing was stout, round and bore no visible eyes. Its legs and arms seemed to burst from random points in the body, striking the stone and heaving the thing forward. It quickly gathered speed, the heat pouring forth as it approached.
Never hurled a dagger at the bulk.
The steel slipped into the body with barely a pause, as if swallowed whole. The creature did not so much as flinch. “Go,” he cried.
Chapter 10.
Never spun as Luis dragged Tsolde up the first few steps. The faint silver light offered enough help that they did not stumble. Never leapt after them, glancing over his shoulder. Could the thing fit in the stairway?
“Damn.” Easily.
How to slow it? The heat seared his back as he charged up the stairs – only to ease suddenly. He spun. The dark, seething creature of silver and shadow had come to a halt and was turning, legs slapping the walls as it shifted its bulk.
Something... someone stood behind it!
Never held his breath.
The newcomer stood tall and dark, yet the whites of his eyes were clear and his expression was one of determination in the silvery glow. How was he withstanding the heat? The ball of death surged forward and the man threw himself against the wall – but not to evade. His legs and arms, his chest even, sank into the rock as he side-stepped then swung them at the creature, as if pulling a curtain down.
Stone followed.
It flashed down from the very roof, smashing the thing into motionlessness. Steam hissed and silver pooled around a huge column of stone which now blocked half the Serpent’s Trail. The stranger emerged from the stone wall, chest heaving where he stood a moment, before shuddering and collapsing to the ground.
Never ran back. “Can you hear me?”
The man offered no response.
Never knelt. Beneath a dark grey tunic, the man’s skin was hot to the touch, like a wall of stone blasted by sun all afternoon. Never gave the fellow a shake. Nothing. He took the man by the shoulders and braced himself, straining and failing to move their saviour. Like dragging a stone!
The hissing silver was spreading and the man lay in its path.
“Luis!” he called.
The echo of footsteps followed and Luis appeared, eyes wide as he took in the scene. “Never?”
“Help me roll him over.”
Luis knelt beside him. “What happened?”
“He’s heavier than he looks, so we go together, right? Roll him toward the stairs, I doubt we could carry this guy.”
Luis nodded, then took a firm grip on the man. He grunted when Never gave a nod, pushing as Luis pulled, leaning his body weight back. The stone-man rose and teetered, then thumped down as Luis jumped back.
“Nearly lost my toes.”
“Again. We have to save him – he stopped that thing,” Never said.
They rolled the man once more, then a third time, eventually breaking into a sweat when they hit the steps. “What now?” Luis gasped.
The pool of silvery liquid was slowing, spreading where the man had lain, but did not seem as though it would move much further. “Find Tsolde. We’ll figure out the next step as soon as this guy wakes.”
“Will he?”
“He’s breathing, that’s something.”
When Tsolde returned she shook her head as she glanced at the strange man. “Do you think this is the one the hermit told us about?”
“Could be,” Never said. “Let’s hope he’s not in a bad mood when he wakes.”
“We’ll soon find out,” Luis said.
The man of stone’s eyes fluttered and he flinched, but upon seeing the apparent absence of the silver-creature, sighed, closing them again. “You are fools to come here but I am glad you survived,” he said. His voice was surprisingly normal – Never had expected a deep, gravelly growl.
“Thank you for saving us,” Never said.
The man sat up with a smile that was half wince. “I imagine you have many questions – let me answer but one for now. I am Darom.”
Never made the introductions. He wanted to ask ‘what are you?’ but resisted, instead going for the next most pressing question. “Darom, what was that creature?”
He stood. “Let us find a safer place, follow me and I will tell you what I know.” He started up the stairs, moving slowly at first, and Never followed at an even slower pace, hands reaching for the walls in the darkness. By the slight fumbling, Luis and Tsolde were having the same trouble.
Darom paused. “Ah. I apologise.” Never waited. Soft creaks followed and pinpoints of light appeared high above, popping into existence and leading up. They cast enough light that he could see the steps again.
Their strange saviour removed his hands from the wall, took a breath and resumed his climb. Never kept pace after checking on Tsolde and Luis, both of whom followed not quite close enough to trample his heels, but near enough.
“The creature that attacked you is a... mistake, perhaps. It came about long ago, when the mountain kings dug too deep with their mines. I do not know much more, other than that they rarely climb so high.”
“I did not think we were so close to the mines,” Never said.
“You are right. They are still a few days travel north east, which is what concerns me about the Black Ember’s appearance here.”
The stairs ended at a landing with a single door. “The Mountain Kings’ Palace, the ruins of Kathuer, such as remain, lie beyond this door, only a little way further now. However, I would request something of you each, if you would consider it I would be pleased.”
“Please,” Never said.
“Would you permit me to accompany you there and beyond a little ways? I am travelling near to where you doubtless travel and would be happy to offer my protection in exchange for the company.” His expression suggested sincerity.
Never glanced at Luis and Tsolde. If another Black Ember appeared, Darom would no doubt earn his keep, even as he had done so already. “No objections from me, Never,” Luis said.
“Nor I,” Tsolde added.
“Welcome aboard,” Never said with a grin.
***
A warm wind cut across the ruins of Kathuer, stirring dark clouds and dried leaves alike as Darom gestured to the nearest building. “There is a well in the courtyard beyond.”
Never blinked when his eyes adjusted to the new light. Their guide’s skin was no longer a dark earth, but more the paler wash of exposed stone – its shade not unlike the surrounding walls.
But Never did not mention it, instead, heading for the well. The rope and bucket were well-maintained. He lowered the rope as Luis and Tsolde waited. “I wonder if Darom is the one who takes care of this place?”
“Who else might?” Luis said.
There was no evidence of recent visitors in the ruin. The walls were chipped and scarred from weapons and fire when, at one point in the history of Elina’s ancestors, Hanik settlers had come and began, then ended a war with the mountain kings. A stripe of purple stone ran along the base of the wall and even that of the well.
“Do you know what the purple is for?” Never asked Tsolde.
“No. I’ve never travelled here, only heard of it.” She turned back to the clearing and the other, smaller structures, none of which amounted to a full room. “To be honest, there isn’t much left. Less than I thought.”
Never hauled the bucket up and drank, then passed it around. Darom approached as they filled their single flask. “There is a road out of the palace grounds that will lead down to what is now known as the King’s Road but it is busy of late. I doubt you will want to cross paths with the Vadiya.”
“Not truly.”
“There is another way, should you wish it.” He paused. “There is danger enough there too and I cannot guide you through it.”
“What danger?” Never asked. “Another Black Ember?”<
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“Not the Yimash, no,” he said. “It was once called the Narrow Way. It is a gorge that will take you to the Giant’s Bridge.”
“I know the bridge,” Never said. “It will bring us very close to the mines. At the bridge, most travellers will turn toward the Silver Pass but there we can continue higher to the Iron Pass,” he said.
Darom drew in a breath. “The Iron Pass? You plan to take it?”
“Yes. I know the pass well.”
“Find another way, Never.”
“I cannot. We’re racing time – I must reach Marlosi before the new moon.”
Darom frowned. “Is the risk worth it?”
“Yes,” Never said. “No doubt in my mind.”
“Then my advice would be to steer clear of Night Lake,” he said.
“We will.”
“What of the gorge, Darom?” Luis asked. “You mentioned danger.”
“So I did. The Narrow Way is a thin path of stone that will take you to the bridge but it is a deathly drop and the winds are strong. If you weigh yourself down with rock, you will pass safely.”
Tsolde didn’t appear too pleased at his words.
“And you, Darom?” Never asked.
“I will take you to the gorge but then I must leave. I am... needed elsewhere and it is a natural point for our paths to diverge.” The stone-like man started from the ruins and Never kept pace, the others following.
“Forgive my curiosity,” Never began. “But you can imagine that we might be curious about how you came to be so... strong.”
Darom chuckled. “Tactfully put, Never. I am descended of the Mountain People and it seems the old blood no longer hides. I have always been... strong, as you put it.”
Old blood. A familiar problem. Or gift, perhaps, in Darom’s case. “And it allows you to pass into the mountain?”
“Yes. But at a cost. I believe my ancestors were more adept than I. I will rest long tonight.”
“And have you always protected unwary travellers?”
“No. In truth, I see few and reveal myself to fewer.”
“But you saved us?”
Darom nodded.