Diem shrugged. "That's all I can remember, but this was a good thirty years ago now, so I can't even say if he's still there. You know how sorcerers are."
Nodding, she agreed she did. Regardless, it was a place to begin, and that was more than she'd had till now.
Looking to Chara, the warrior priestess motioned to the horse they’d acquired for her, getting a bright, cheerful smile in return.
"Ready when you are," she all but giggled.
"Forgetting something, are we?" Diem asked.
"Oh," Chara gasped before giving him a hug. "Sorry."
"And your mother," he added.
She bounced away, embracing both Kate and Daniel, promising them she would come back as soon as she could, and tell them all about what she’d seen. Diem couldn't stop the grin that slipped over his face, even if he’d wanted to.
"One last thing, Ramora," he said, looking back to the warrior. "Promise me, now, that you'll look out for her. Keep her safe."
Ramora grasped his hand and held it firmly, bobbing her head. She couldn’t say the words, but she felt them, and hoped he knew. She vowed, before Kalis, Goddess of Oaths, that Chara would see her home and family again.
Soon, the two were mounted, guiding the pack horse as they began their journey towards the Ice Mountains, in search of a sorcerer who may hold the key to leading them to the man who’d taken everything from Ramora. Chara waved goodbye to her family, as they did to her, until the village vanished behind the hill the two women had first spotted it from five days earlier.
"No matter what, Ramora," Chara said as the town vanished, "I'm here for you."
Smiling, the warrior nodded, happier to have her than she’d have guessed.
Rakiss watched them from behind a tree, smiling eagerly.
"Now, we can begin."
Part Two
The Sorcerer’s Keep
Chapter Ten
STANDING ATOP an outcropping of rock, Ramora scanned the horizon, shielding her eyes against the cold wind that blew constantly, and the blinding glare of the snow. The passing clouds overhead created a landscape of moving shadows in the foothills of the Ice Mountains, a treacherous one that only the most experienced ever attempted to traverse.
Spotting a tall stone marker that rose from the white expanse she sighed and nodded to herself. At least they were still on the road, more or less. Though there had been, as yet, no sign of any tower that was home to a sorcerer. She was beginning to despair that he had died, or moved elsewhere in the years since Diem and his fellow soldiers had taken refuge there.
Turning, she eased her way back down the rise, the heavy furs she was wrapped in flapping as the ice-coated wind gusted anew, howling to her. She scowled under the hood that wrapped her face, wondering why the wind got to speak when she couldn’t.
Reaching the bottom of the outcropping, she trudged through the almost knee-deep snow, rejoining Chara and the horses on the old wagon trail. Ramora shook her head, making the young woman slump slightly atop her horse, before looking around the frozen hell they traveled.
Pausing by her, Ramora squeezed her leg, hoping to offer her some comfort. She knew she was only going to give it a couple more days before turning them back. The going was getting far too dangerous, and if they weren’t careful, they would become a permanent part of the landscape.
Reaching down, Chara gripped her hand through the heavy mittens she wore and waved on ahead. Nodding, Ramora moved to climb back on her mount. The young woman wanted to press on a little longer as well, despite the danger. Together, they urged the horses forward, plowing ahead.
It’d taken them two months of steady travel to reach the small Cybalt controlled trading town of Riskine, where they’d picked up cold weather clothing, trading their horses for more sturdy ones that had been bred to thrive in the frigid northern climes.
While Ramora had waited for her odd assortment of coins to be calculated again, Chara had spent time visiting the soldiers stationed in the town, asking after a sorcerer’s tower to the east. To her disappointment, none could help her, few of them having journeyed that far out.
Frost Giants had made it clear in recent years that they didn’t like humans encroaching on their territory, and despite the King of Cybalt's best efforts to reach out to the Children of Rajan, they’d stated that any more incursions would be met with violence.
Dejected, Chara had stopped at a tavern to buy a meal, where she waited for the Blessed to join her. Approached by the barkeep due to her long face, she’d explained her troubles to him, and received a surprise for her efforts.
The old tap master had once been a soldier, and part of the mission her father had told them of. He remembered Diem, even after all these years, and knew about the sorcerer’s tower as well. By the time Ramora arrived, the kindly old man had sketched a rough map for them, happy to help the daughter of the man who’d saved his life.
Ramora had given that a doubting look, but according to him, had Diem not kept pushing them all, they would’ve fallen to the cold and never found the tower that saved their lives. With a smile, he paid for their meal and gave them a room to sleep in as well, for which Ramora was thankful.
The new horses and winter clothing had left her with precious few coins in her purse. She wasn't certain just what they were going to do when those were gone as well.
After two weeks of searching the ice-coated barren foothills, however, she was more concerned with just getting Chara back to Riskine alive. An old trapper she’d met at the shop had warned her that the worst season for traveling the foothills was winding up, and that there would be weeks of sudden snowstorms and avalanches, not to mention snow-filled crevasses that could swallow a Troll whole.
Taking his advice, and following the map the barkeep had given them, they slowly wound their way down the old wagon road that had once led to a silver mine on the outer most reaches of Cybalt, though it now fell within Giant territory. Ramora wasn't sure how the Titans would greet a Blessed of the High Gods, but hoped she wouldn't have to find out, either.
After the Race Wars of the Second Age, the Giants had retreated into their mountain homes, and were rarely seen. They had no desire to interact with the other races of the Middle World, never mind the slow corruption being spread through the world by the Demon Gods.
In a way, she understood. Those born of the Storm Dragon were a different breed. Like their cousins, the dragons, Giants didn't see the world the same way the rest of the races did. She knew well enough to leave them be, and could only hope they didn’t cross paths with the towering brutes.
Still, as night began to fall, she knew she had to start considering turning back, for Chara's sake if no other. Their supplies were running low, and the weather seemed to grow only more violent. As the two struggled to pitch their tent in the roaring wind, she made her choice.
Come the morning, tower or no, they would turn back.
She would find her answers some other way.
As the wind howled outside, Chara hunkered in her blanket, shivering. Ramora stoked the small fire she’d built, hoping the heat would fill the small tent soon. A small opening in the top helped the smoke escape, but did the same for the heat, making it difficult to warm them after a full day of exposure.
"Why in all the Hells would anyone build a tower all the way out here?" the young woman asked past chattering teeth.
Ramora shrugged. Sorcerers were a strange lot, at best. What motivated them was beyond her understanding.
"Well, we need to find this place," the young woman continued. "Hopefully, tomorrow the wind will die down a bit."
Another gust rattled the tent, making them glance about, anxious. A few days ago, they’d woken in the morning to find they had narrowly avoided being buried by a small avalanche.
Ramora shook her head as she set a small pot over the fire, preparing to make them some warm tea. Showing her friend the state of their food bag, she made a series of signs with her hand.
"No, we’re not
turning back until we absolutely have to," Chara argued.
Ramora shook her head again. While the hand gestures Chara had developed over the last two and a half months to help her communicate made things infinitely easier, they made arguing with the stubborn woman impossible. All she had to do was look away, or close her eyes.
The number of arguments the two had gotten into over the last ten weeks, innumerable by Ramora's measure, had all ended that way. As much as she adored Chara, the young woman was sometimes just plain impossible.
Ramora made another series of gestures, pointing at the pack again.
"It's enough to get us back to town plus a couple of days," Chara countered. "If we go easy and only eat twice a day."
The Blessed made the sign for small.
"Yes, small meals, I know," Chara grumbled. "I'd remind you which one of us has the appetite."
Ramora made an offhand gesture at her.
"Hardly," the other woman growled. "I'm like a bird to your bear."
Clenching her fist before she signed something she would regret, Ramora poured her a cup of tea. The weather was getting to them both, she knew.
"Sorry," Chara offered after a bit. "I'm just tense. I know how bad the situation is. Whatever you decide, that's what we'll do."
Cradling her own cup, Ramora slid around the fire and crawled under the heavy fur blanket with her. Chara nestled against her easily, sighing.
"It's just, I feel like we're close, you know?" she said. "Let's give it one more day, at least. If we don't find it by tomorrow night, we'll turn back first thing in the morning."
Cuddling her for warmth, Ramora nodded hesitantly.
"I know you want to go right away," her friend said. "I could see it on your face while we set the tent up. You think it's gotten too dangerous."
Ramora nodded while she stroked her hair.
"It's important, though," she continued. "This may be our only chance to find out who this guy is. Without it, we've got nothing, and don't even know where to start looking."
Shrugging, Ramora tugged her closer and caressed her cheek.
"No, I'm not more important," Chara argued. "Why would you even suggest that? This is the guy who hurt you. I want to find him, so we can make him pay for that."
Cupping her chin, Ramora turned the young woman’s head to face her, cornflower eyes serious as she set her tea aside to sign at her.
"I know it's important to you, too," she said softly. "I just don't want you to miss a chance because of me."
Kissing her softly on the forehead, Ramora smiled at her.
"Easy for you to say," Chara snorted. "I'm the one who'll have to live with the guilt."
Rolling her eyes, Ramora reached over and slid a hand under her shirt, ticking her side.
"Grannax's beard, woman," Chara yelped. "Your fingers are like ice!"
Ramora laughed silently, until Chara slid her hands under the warrior’s shirt, running them across her stomach and smirking at her. The sudden shiver that ran through her made the young woman laugh maliciously.
"Not so fun, is it?"
The Blessed scowled, and then tugged her closer, wrapping them in the fur more tightly. After a moment, she nudged Chara to get her hands out of there.
"Not a chance," Chara replied. "You’re warm."
Shaking her head, Ramora hoped tomorrow would bring better news.
Morning found the weather turning even less hospitable, the howling wind bringing fat snowflakes with it as clouds gathered north of the mountains. Plodding through the ever deepening snow, Ramora began to fear they’d already pushed their luck farther than they should have.
She considered calling on Talbor, but chose to save that as a last resort. While he could rescue them if things got too dangerous, she knew now that she walked the Middle World, there were limits to what Father would allow of the demigod. She had, in essence, revoked many of her privileges by returning to the world of her birth.
She’d known that when she made the choice, too. Her Father had made it clear, and she had accepted the responsibility. At the time, she had felt it was worth it, but now, with Chara at her side, she was less certain.
As the day wore on, visibility dropped, until the two women could only see a dozen yards. With the wind growing ever more vicious, Ramora brought them to a halt, waving Chara to begin making camp. She wasn't sure if night was falling or not, or for that matter, if it had some time ago. She did know they had to get out of this, quickly.
Hurrying as fast as they could, the snow now laced with stinging ice, Ramora tried to set up the tent as Chara led the horses to the side of an embankment, trying to keep them from the wind. Distantly, thunder crashed, and for the first time since leaving Rheumer, the young woman began to grow afraid she might never see home again.
Turning back to Ramora, she tried to wade through the snow, watching as the Blessed struggled with, and lost, one of the packs that carried the heavy steel rods that held the tent together.
Waving, Chara went after it, trying to call out that she would get it, her voice snatched away by the wind. Cursing, she realized this must be what it was like for Ramora all the time, and vanished into the dark.
Ramora continued struggling with the poles and heavy canvas, desperate to get the tent up before things got any worse. The wind ripped the material from her gloved fingers at every turn, gusting so hard it nearly blew her over repeatedly.
Worry grew into a gnawing fear as her Avatar sang to her some advice for stilling the wind, at least for a moment, but she wasn't sure she could even trace the runes as things stood. Shivering, she wrestled with the tent some more, before realizing Chara hadn’t yet returned.
Panic flowing through her. She abandoned the structure, slogging through the deepening snow as fast she could, looking for any sign of the young woman. It had been only a couple of minutes, but already every trace of her passage had been wiped clean.
Scanning about, she pressed into the storm, her panic growing as she struggled up the embankment, almost falling several times. The storm would be on them in full soon, and she felt death nipping at their heels. Desperate, she forced her way on, looking for any sign.
Stumbling into an outcropping, she used it to guide her, a hand grasping at it as the sky lashed out at the earth. Panting, freezing, she brought Talbor's name to mind as she lifted an arm to try and protect herself from the razor sharp wind as she staggered forward.
Rounding the outcropping, the wind died completely, leaving her gasping as she spotted Chara standing in the calm. Grasping for her, Ramora gathered her up, beyond relived she was safe.
"Uh, Ramora," Chara whispered.
Shaking her head, she patted the girl all over, but found her safe and whole. Relieved all over again, she hugged the young woman anew.
"Ramora, seriously," Chara said.
Shaking her head violently, she cupped her friend’s face, wishing with all her might her voice would work just this once, so she could tell her how grateful she was her companion was okay. To her surprise, Chara didn't look at her, her eyes fixed off to the left instead.
Following her gaze, Ramora saw the sorcerer’s tower. Twenty stories high, and a good three hundred yards in diameter, a massive wall surrounded the structure, one Ramora had mistaken for an outcropping of rock. Blinking, she also fully noticed the lack of wind.
Holding Chara's hand, she moved back to the entrance she’d stumbled through, finding intricate carvings of runes on the gateway. The higher ones she recognized quickly as being a shielding spell that held the weather at bay, while the lower was some kind of sealing spell.
Her Avatar crooned out something about a dimensional rift, but Ramora had no idea what that even meant. Sorcerer magic, the small Rabbit whistled, as if that explained everything.
Shaking her head, she turned back and spotted low lights burning in a number of the windows. Offering up thanks to her Father, she tugged Chara along as she headed for the massive double doors of the tower.
> Tower. She wanted to laugh at that. The place was more like a keep!
"Took you long enough to notice the giant building," Chara muttered. "And the lack of storm happening around us."
Tugging her gloves off as they reached the entryway, Ramora signed at her that she’d been too relieved to find her safe, and that she’d feared the young woman lost in the storm.
"Aw," Chara gushed, hugging her. "And here I was trying to figure out how to find and save your big blonde ass."
Ramora gave her a withering glare, but Chara just giggled and hugged her again. Overwhelmed with relief, she pulled the girl tight for a moment, before looking at the doors.
"Do we knock, or what?" Chara asked, holding on to Ramora's hand as they considered the massive entrance.
The Blessed shook her head then shrugged, pounding her fist against the wood. The two waited a moment, but nothing happened, so she did it again. When still no answer came, Ramora chewed her lip and tried to decide what to do.
If they didn't retrieve their gear and horses soon, they would lose them all. Not that she was sure she would even be able to get back to them, much less find the keep again. Uncertain, she pulled Talbor's name to mind again.
It drifted away as the door creaked open.
Chapter Eleven
PUTTING CHARA BEHIND HER, Ramora faced the heavy door as it eased part way open. Diem had warned that the sorcerer who dwelled here had a Werebeast as a guard, and Ramora knew how dangerous those creatures were. She could never forget the horrible fate that had befallen her sister at the hands of the Hell Hounds.
Swinging inward, the door only opened a foot, releasing a gush of warmth as a towering figure moved to peer out at them. Looking up, Ramora found herself staring into the slitted green eyes of a pitch black Werejaguar. Ears already flatted, the inhuman beast did not look pleased to find them at the door.
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