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The Black Mage: Complete Series

Page 105

by Rachel E. Carter


  A moment later, Quinn confirmed the worst of my fears.

  “That’s because we are going to take the glacial pass. It’s dangerous, but that will play to our advantage.” Our leader took a spot next to the three of us, clutching a heavy, weathered scroll. “King Horrace gave us a layout of the land before we left. Nyx knew Darren would favor the main road since it’s the easiest passage for a regiment the size of the Crown’s Army. Once we ascend the pass”—his eyes flew at the intimidating wall to our east—“we will have the element of surprise. The Crown’s Army would never expect an attack from the west, and there is an overlook just beyond it. The lookout isn’t much of an asset, almost impossible to scale, but multiple sources suggested Commander Audric was going to station his command there to oversee the battle. If Darren is leading the mages, it’s very likely he will be stationed somewhere nearby.”

  “What if he isn’t?”

  Quinn massaged his shoulder with a groan; the endless days were getting to everyone. “Even if he isn’t, Commander Audric will be able to lead us to wherever they’ve hidden their king. We just need to find the neck of the beast, and the rest will follow.”

  Don’t. I breathed out through my nose, crippling the sensation somewhere inside. I’d lasted this long without breaking apart, and now that I could see the final leg of our journey, nothing would change.

  “Ryiah?” Ella leaned in, and I took a step back. I couldn’t talk about it. I just needed to focus on now.

  Alex took over for my silence.

  “How are we getting the horses to the other side?”

  “We aren’t. We set them free and cast our way across. We’ll spend the final leg of our journey on foot.” The head mage pointed to our packs. “Divide up the final provisions and carry the saddlebags on your back. Bring nothing that is not absolutely necessary to our survival.”

  The group had already set to dispersing supplies. Weapons were passed around, flint and steel, thick wool, a couple of flasks, salve and bandages, a small metal pot that we could heat for cooking and drink, and a ration of dry ingredients like Borean rice and bits of bone for broth. A half hour later, we were ready to depart.

  I shifted uncomfortably along the ledge. Even though the packs were light, we all had two steel picks and a pair of woven, rawhide rackets attached to our straps. Not to mention the trappings for our tent, weapons, rations for food, and the heavy sleeping rolls that we couldn’t leave behind.

  Everything weighed more when you were hiking in snow; I would have preferred to crawl among sand.

  “As soon as we pass the tundra, it could be several yards before you touch granite. That, and the temperature plunges as soon as we enter the pass. You will have to use the rackets for the rest of the climb.”

  Ella and I exchanged panicked glances. We had used the contraptions during the last year of our apprenticeship; we had hoped and prayed we’d never use them again. Only trappers in the most uninhabitable parts of Jerar were forced to wear them; we’d never grown comfortable with their gait. It would take three times the effort and the time to get anywhere with them on. It was the worst sort of irony that we had been reunited with the devices in what could be the final week of our lives.

  “What do you think, Ry?” My brother turned to me as the rest of our party stared down at the racing current in the ravine below. “Are we reliving the Combat course all over again?”

  For a moment, I was back at the Academy. It was just Alex and me racing across the mountain trail. And then there was Darren, grinning wickedly as he cast a fissure to halt us in our tracks, forcing us to cast our way across.

  A stab of feeling shot to my chest before I could blink.

  How could we go from the non-heir and the lowborn to this?

  I grabbed my arms and squeezed until the sensation was gone. Then I was staring into the wilds of Caltoth, contemplating the best way to cross.

  Fifteen minutes later, our party crossed the divide. The ravine was steep, but it couldn’t have been more than ten yards across, hardly a challenge for twelve Combat mages and one healer.

  Ella and I levitated across the gap with my brother between us. We had been conserving all of our casting—save heat during the night—so it wasn’t a terrible depletion of our stamina.

  As soon as we crossed, the temperature plummeted.

  There was also no marked trail. From here on, we had a compass and King Horrace’s map.

  Everywhere we looked, frosted pines climbed cresting peaks for miles on end. There was nothing but white and bits of pine green as far as the eye could see. Beautiful, but deadly.

  The closer we got to the Glacial Pass, the darker it got. The red sun fell behind the shadowy ridge, and we were forced to make camp at the base of the Caltothian range. From where we stood, I could see a climb with no end in sight.

  Quinn said it would take us four days to reach the summit. The overlook was somewhere just beyond it, nestled between glaciers. It looked over the eastern half. The armies were expected below.

  Alex shivered as he joined me, clutching a steaming mug in the palms of his hands. “Gods help us scale this thing alive.”

  “Scared?” I grinned. He was afraid of heights; he had done well in the Iron Range, but Caltoth was something else entirely.

  “Why do you think they gave us that pick?” His skin was sallow and green. “Do they expect us to climb ice?”

  Ella was clutching her fur cloak and blowing air into her palms. She shook her head with a smile. “Oh, Alex.”

  “What if we fall?” His eyes bulged as he stared into the abyss. “We could die—”

  “We could, but this won’t be the place.” Ella wove her fingers into his. “I won’t let you fall, Alex.”

  The look they exchanged was enough for me to step away. They deserved this brief moment to themselves; I was more than capable of turning as my brother took Ella’s face in his callused hands, kissing her with a look that promised forever.

  I helped the camp with the evening meal.

  We boiled bits of bone and a pinch of dried herbs. We’d run through our supply of smoked meats the night before, we were down to a small ration of Borean rice and broth. I passed out the final portion and then set to keeping a fire and watch.

  My hands were starting to crack and bleed from the cold, but it wasn’t worth the casting to heal. We needed Alex’s magic for the worse things to come.

  Later, I took a post with a young woman I didn’t know. I wanted to give Alex and Ella some time alone.

  We kept the flames burning high with our casting, doing our best to heat the others in their rawhide tents. It was a necessary task, but I enjoyed watching the stars. Everything looked so much closer from this side of the border.

  It was a gods’ touched land.

  As miserable as I was, I appreciated the cold beauty and, in it, its silence.

  And then, right as the sky was starting to lighten, I saw them.

  Dancing colors. Hues of violet and orange, verdant and a cobalt blue. It was every color shifting across the sky. A rainbow of light. The pattern lasted for ten, twenty minutes.

  And then it was over.

  When the colors ended, the sun was close to rising, and with it, a new day.

  For the first time in weeks, I felt a flutter of hope.

  17

  The pass might as well have been an army waiting in ambush. For three days we climbed, higher and higher until it was near impossible to breathe. The air was so thin. It felt like there was never enough.

  Two of the men were sick. They did their best to carry on, but between their nausea and the rest of our headaches, it was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

  Ella and some of the others were getting dizzy. It was dangerous. We were on unstable ground, and all it would take was one slip of the boot…

  More than once we had to retrace our steps.

  Quinn claimed all of this was expected, but it still didn’t take away the effects.

  With the leathe
r trappings attached to our boots, we were making miserable time. For every three steps, we needed to rest. My lungs worked twice as hard just to take in the same amount of air. We had enough water—thank the gods for the abundance of snow—but the broth was doing little to fill the pits of our stomachs. The Borean rice was gone by the end of the second night.

  None of us would ever make it back the way we came; the eastern pass was our only bet to make it down alive.

  No one was talking by the third afternoon. That night, when we finally reached the first crest, the elation was as palpable as despair. There was a wall of ice, and it was time for the picks in our packs.

  No one could muster the words to speak.

  We shared another helping of broth, not even bothering to remove the scum that rose to the top; we were too exhausted to care.

  The next morning when I awoke, it was just as bad as before. The one good thing, if you could classify it as such, was that we were leaving the rawhide contraptions behind. We couldn’t scale a rise of ice with a racket attached to our boots.

  Killian, a man with the arms of an ox who had grown up in the heart of the Iron Range, spent the first part of our morning demonstrating how to scale the mountain face.

  “Feet parallel.”

  I exchanged a look with Ella as we spread out behind a line of others. We would be taking the face on two at a time. Alex, who was doing the very best he could to swallow his fear, was going before us. In the event he slipped, we wanted to be able to cast him to safety.

  Everyone was relying on someone else.

  “Hips in. Left shoulder back to get a good swing.”

  We mimed the movement with our picks in hand.

  “Push hips out and then climb… Parallel.” There was a pause between the instruction. “Make sure your body is center to the pick.” He continued, “Swing again.”

  I’d scaled boulders during my youth and a cliff or two during the apprenticeship—rock climbing was one of my strengths—but ice was a different sort of test. For one, our boots had little traction and we exerted a lot of magic just fighting to keep our hold.

  Every so often, I put a bit too much weight into my swing. Then I was at the mercy of the pair spotting me below. They were all that came between me and an untimely death.

  Killian was the last one up; his skill kept him from unfortunate mistakes. Still, I didn’t release my breath until he was fully over the ledge.

  It took us most of the day to reach the top. By the time the last of our party had recovered enough to continue, the sun had set and the air had dropped to an unbearable chill.

  It was all we could do to make one final camp.

  We didn’t have to worry about a patrol spotting our fire late into the night; the summit’s plateau was the highest peak in the Glacial Pass. That, and the Crown’s Army sentries would never expect someone coming from the west.

  “Get some rest because we set forth at dawn.” Quinn chugged down the final bit of his broth, doing his best not to grimace like the rest of us. The marrow was long gone and the only flavor was from some rather tasteless herbs.

  Little did he know those “herbs” were crushed valerian root treated with magic. Alex had found the flowers in Jerar not two days after we came up with our plan and saved them for our final night in Caltoth. The powder, he had promised, would buy us three hours before the others awoke.

  My brother had wanted to administer the root at dawn, to give us time to recover, but I had insisted on tonight. Every hour that passed was another hour the war waged somewhere down below.

  I didn’t care if my stamina was somewhat drained. I didn’t care if the cold stole my breath and left a skeleton of ice.

  I needed to leave now.

  A rational part of me knew I was being reckless.

  But the sane part of me knew it was the only way.

  A half-hour later, Alex, Ella, and I had finished dragging the bodies into tents and wrapping them up in the remains of our rolls. We couldn’t keep a fire burning by magic, so the mages were paired together for warmth. We’d done our best to heat small chunks of granite and metal pots, tucking them in with their furs to help stimulate warmth.

  The others would never survive the night without a fire, but they would for three hours thanks to the precautions we took.

  “Was I wrong not to trust Quinn?” I stared out at the leader one final time, shouldering my pack. The wind howled behind us, and my fur-lined hood was just barely keeping my face from the worst of it.

  I tucked the ends of my scarf into the neck of my cloak. I was sweating after heaving ten bodies across ice and snow, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. I didn’t want to think how much worse it would get.

  “You had no choice, Ry.”

  My gaze fell to Ian sleeping soundly next to Ray.

  I had no choice.

  My friends would never forgive me. If we survived.

  I’m not picking Darren over Jerar. My fingers curled around the stolen map. It would never come to that. This was about giving the king a chance.

  Ella finished adjusting her scabbard, and then we were off.

  The stars lit the way.

  TWO MILES in the dead of the night and all around us the granite glittered with ice, sharp and translucent. It was almost ethereal to be someplace so deadly and enchanting in the same breath.

  We took the ridge slowly as we began our descent. The pass had been aptly named. Snow compacted into ice, frozen solid by years of neglect in a land with only one season. The summit sloped down and led to a cavernous passage littered with glaciers.

  Everywhere we turned, there were beds of black ice and snow-dusted rock. It would have been so easy to fall and slip, impaling oneself on a jagged rock or, worse, over the ledge. We couldn’t spot anything from the top of the pass; the mountain descended steeply into a second, lower peak where the overlook was kept. It was there we would finally be able to see the war waging below.

  By the end of the second hour, we were numb from the waist up. Even with the constant movement and the heavy furs lining the inside of our cloaks, it wasn’t enough. The temperature had continued to plunge, and we needed a moment to reheat our limbs or risk losing them to black frost.

  Ella and I took turns casting heat—there was no wood nearby for a fire as the top of the mountain and its passage were treeless—as Alex set to work treating our skin. My twin did the best he could with the supplies he had in his pack—birch leaf and the remains of valerian—but he was holding off magic. For now.

  We were sore, hungry, and tired.

  The one thing I wasn’t? Thirsty. Thanks to the abundance of snow.

  Once again, we shared a meal of boiled water, only, this time, there wasn’t even an old bone to give it the semblance of broth.

  My stomach felt like a ravenous pack of dogs. Every step took twice the energy as that morning. A part of me wondered what it would have been like if I had succumbed to a night of rest.

  “How much further?” Ella cupped the steam from her mug so that it heated her face.

  I squinted at the map. The wind was blocked from where we stood; jagged walls of granite and ice kept the worst of it at bay.

  “If this boulder is the one indicated here”—I pointed to a little dot on the scroll—“then we are close. A half-mile from the overlook. We’ll have to keep a lookout for—”

  The sound of ice splintering behind me was all the warning I needed.

  I spun. Two balls of flame hovered above my palms as I faced the sentry head on. Alex had a broadsword, and Ella provided a glowing sphere to shield the three of us. I thanked the gods we had taken the time to talk through an attack earlier on.

  Then I saw who it was.

  “Ian?” My casting vanished immediately.

  Our friend was pale as a ghost. His lips cracked as he strode forward, and his arms wrapped around his cloak.

  “Y-you can’t d-do this.” His teeth chattered as he spoke, but his eyes were livid.

  Alex p
ut his weapon back in its sheath and Ella lowered her casting.

  “It’s my choice.” I was fighting hard to remain calm. Now that Ian was here, we were in trouble. How much, I wasn’t sure. Were there others? “You told me that the day you arrived, remember?”

  “That was when I thought you would be smart enough to walk away.” His eyes flashed. “You have the right to not play a part in Darren’s death, Ryiah, but you don’t have a right to save him. That stopped being your choice the moment he took the throne. You can’t put the others at risk.”

  Alex studied our friend’s face. “How did you know? The broth—”

  “I’ve been watching Ryiah all week.” Ian’s words were steeped in resentment. “By the time she tossed her portion, it was too late. I was the only one who had waited for her to eat.” His brows knit together. “I tried to warn Quinn that day at the border, but he seemed to think we could handle her.”

  “So he wasn’t going to uphold his promise!”

  “Neither were you.” Ian glowered at me. “Both of you were just saying what the other wanted to hear. I, at least, was honest that day he recruited you to our mission.”

  “I’m sorry.” And I was—to a point. “But it was the only way, Ian.”

  “They’ll freeze to death overnight. Did you ever think about that?”

  “They will only sleep for three hours.” I bristled. “And we made sure they were warm, but you already know that. You were there.”

  “Am I supposed to thank you?” Ian’s expression was incredulous. “Ryiah, please. Think about everyone else. Think about what will happen if you fail.”

  “Then the rest of you can finish the job.” I refused to consider the implication. “I just need to try it my way first.”

  “Ryiah—”

  “No.” My voice rose. “You don’t understand what you are asking me, Ian. I’ve given everything to this damned cause. Give me a gods’ forsaken chance to save him!”

  His voice was so quiet. “And if you can’t?”

  “He was your friend once.” My voice was as hard as steel. “Are you so willing to condemn the boy you once knew? Tell me, Ian, if Darren was willing to call off his men and rescind his claim to the throne, if he left Jerar to spend the rest of his life repenting his crimes, would you call his murder justice?”

 

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