by GARY DARBY
“Amil, are you suggesting,” Tavin questions, “that the Blackguards and hounds somehow used this underground river to leave the inner bowl you described and make their way here?”
Amil shrugs in answer. “If you can’t fly over, go under I always say.”
“Did by any chance,” Snag queries, “this other traveler explore this underground river?”
Shaking his head, Amil replies, “Not that I recall.”
“Did he provide a location for this river?” Talia asks.
“Not exactly,” Amil replies, “but he said he came up to it from the south.”
“So, it’s on the southern edge of the mountain range,” I reply.
“That’s still a lot of ground to search,” Alonya mutters.
“Does anyone live near there that we could ask?” Pim questions.
“I don’t think so,” Amil answers, “what I know of these lands is that most of the people live southward. I’m under the impression that the north is sparsely populated, if at all. We’ll be looking for the proverbial needle under the mountain.”
“It’s needle under the haystack,” Cara sighs, “but we get the point.”
“Aye,” Amil returns, “mountain or haystack, we’ll have our work cut out for us.”
“Not to mention, dangerous work,” Tavin adds, “if Bazyl is around along with these Blackguards and Fire Hounds.”
“And whatever else,” Alonya adds, “that Vay has dredged up from the muck of the underworld.”
During the discussion, I’ve kept my eye on Marce. Like Helmar, she’s kept quiet and to herself, off to one side. Not once has she glanced up, but kept her eyes focused on the ground at her feet. I’m not sure if her silence is because of Borm or somehow she feels responsible for Phigby’s abduction. Perhaps it’s both.
While the others take up the discussion again, I slip away and ease next to her. She looks up as I sit. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” I reply. “You should be over there with the others. We need your voice, your thoughts.”
She lets out a breath, shakes her head. “ I don’t feel much like talking or thinking. Especially thinking . . . it hurts too much.”
I nod in understanding. “How did it go in the valley?”
“Not good,” she sniffs and her eyes brim with tears. “Ralos blamed me for everything. Even when Phigby explained that Borm pushed the idea of us leaving, he wouldn’t accept that—said his son would never do such a foolish thing.”
“I’m sorry, Marce, I truly am.”
“Thanks,” she answers and wipes at a tear that dribbles down her brown and green cheek. “If only—”
I put a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Marce, we could fill up our days saying, ‘If only’ but it really doesn’t solve anything, does it?”
“I guess not,” she slowly answers. “It’s just that when you make such a terrible mistake that you kill a friend—”
“Marce, you didn’t kill Borm. Those archers did.”
“But if we hadn’t been so foolish! If we had just stayed in the valley, Borm would still be alive, Phigby wouldn’t be in Bazyl’s hands, maybe even Vay’s soon enough and I wouldn’t be sitting here thinking who else am I going to lose because of some stupid decision on my part.”
“So, what do you want to do? Quit? Go home?”
“Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”
“Yet, you’re still here.”
“Only because you need Wind Walker. You certainly don’t need me and it’s a long walk back to Nervan.”
“No, Marce. The company doesn’t need just Wind Walker. We need you too.”
“Really?” she snorts and uses both hands to wipe away the tears. “At this point, I’m inclined to believe I was more help to Vay than I was to the company.”
“No Marce, you’re not evil in the least, so you’re absolutely no help to Vay at all. You made a mistake, yes, but it was an honest mistake with no malice intended. You didn’t set out to harm anyone—”
“But I did!”
“Not intentionally, and that’s a big difference. Intentional, that’s what Vay and her followers do, they even revel in hurting others. Is that you? Are those tears of revelry I see pouring down your cheeks? I think not. In your heart, you thought you were helping to protect the Uhlan, not to harm them, as did Borm.”
I sigh deeply. “The truth is, for a while there I was pretty mad at you two. Had this big lecture planned for when we caught up to you.”
With a little shrug, I add, “But the truth is, when I realized that you were just trying to help those you cared deeply about, that big lecture sorta when up in smoke.”
“And now that I’ve gotten Phigby snatched by Bazyl? You’re sure you still want me in the company?”
Movement catches my eye and I glance up. “Yes, and so do they.”
Marce’s head jerks up and like me, finds the company standing quiet, listening, in a small semicircle. “Hoop’s right, Marce,” Cara says, “we want you to stay and we need you to stay.”
“We’re stronger with you,” Alonya adds, “than without you.”
“But after what I’ve done,” Marce sputters.
Amil steps forward and sweeps a hand toward the company. “Other than me, of course, do you see anyone standing before you that hasn’t made a mistake or two?”
Tavin edges by Amil and grunts, “No mistakes, Traveler? Shall I tell them about the time after you returned from Calgar and you and Umbria—”
“All right, all right,” Amil huffs, “so I’ve made a mistake or two? Just means I fit right in with this company.”
“That it does,” Tavin smiles before he turns to Marce. “We do indeed need you, Marce, now more than ever.”
Marce’s eyebrows furrow and she gets a puzzled expression. “And why is that?”
“Because,” Cara declares, “we have a plan of sorts—”
“A very, very dangerous plan,” Snag adds.
“That we believe,” Alonya says, “will get us into Vay’s fortress. But Snag’s right, it may well be the most dangerous thing we’ve ever done.”
“Only,” Tavin asserts, “we’re quite certain we can’t do it without you and your, uh, ‘unique’ talents.”
Marce turns her gaze from one to another, staring into their faces for several long moments. “You’re not saying this just to make me feel better?”
“Wait,” Amil sputters, “the idea of going into Vay’s inner sanctum makes you feel better?”
“No, Amil,” Marce replies, “that doesn’t, the part where you said you needed me.”
“And we do, Marce,” Cara affirms, “we truly do.”
Marce takes in a deep breath, looks at me, gives me a little nod, and then stands. “I’m in. When do we start?”
“Is right now too soon?” Amil asks.
“Not for me,” Marce replies, snugging down her tunic.
“To your dragons, then,” I order and as I turn with the others toward our dragons, Alonya says to Tavin, “Tell me about Amil and this Umbria?”
“Well,” Tavin replies, pretending to whisper but his voice is loud enough to carry across the company, “she was the daughter of—”
“Oh no you don’t!” Amil spits. “If anyone is to tell that story, it will be me—that way it will be nothing but the truth with none of your embellishing.”
“Oh?” Tavin laughs. “Now I’m the embellisher?”
“Fine,” Alonya insists, “first chance, Traveler, I would hear this tale of yours. It sounds intriguing.”
“Intriguing?” Amil growls. “I wouldn’t call almost being gutted by a jealous suitor intriguing, m’lady.”
“Really!?” Alonya howls. “Now I’m the one intrigued.”
“If you don’t tell her, I will,” Tavin grins.
Amil scowls at Tavin then grouses, “Well, if we survive this little outing perhaps I’ll share.”
Alonya wraps an arm across Amil’s shoulder, strides along with him. “In that case, Travel
er, I shall watch over you very, very carefully as this is one tale of yours that I definitely want to hear!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
We sky low and fast until midmorning when the clouds begin to break apart letting sunlight bathe the countryside. Spotting a likely spot to hide, I have the company land and we sleep until nightfall. By the next dawn, tired and hungry, having pushed our dragons hard through the night, we perch on a high cliff staring off in the distance at what seems to be our journey’s end, a range of towering mountains topped with snow and ice and as cold as death.
“The Mountains of Eternal Ice,” Amil says, sweeping a hand outward taking in the soaring range of peaks that stretch across the horizon. “On the other side is the peak they call the Staircase to Heaven.”
Alonya motions toward the peaks. “Are they always covered by such dark clouds? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such blackness in clouds that are so flat and do not tower upward.”
Her comment causes me to gaze above the ice-tipped mountains. A shroud of churning, menacing clouds seems to lie just above the peaks. Instead of boiling upwards like storm clouds, they resemble a dark shield that rests upon the mountains, blocking out the sunlight.
“I don’t know,” Amil replies. “I don’t recall my fellow Traveler mentioning them.”
“From how nasty they look,” Pim frowns, “I hope we don’t have to sky through them.”
“Aye,” Amil nods, “we would be like a bunch of bouncing balls in the sky.”
Tavin pulls our attention away from the sky by gesturing at the valley floor. “Is that the river we seek?”
I bring my eyes down from the mountaintops to a wide, turquoise-appearing river that seems to flow from the base of a high mountain and through a broad tree-filled valley.
“We best hope it is,” Amil sighs, “and lucky we are that we found it so soon as Phigby’s been in that witch’s hands for three days now. Phigby’s strong but even he has a breaking point.”
“If he’s still alive,” Marce quietly says.
“He’s alive,” I growl, my voice and face hard. “Or Vay is going to wish she’d never started any of this.”
I pull us back from cliff’s edge to where the dragons rest in a thick grove of sky-topping trees whose yellow and orange hand-sized leaves rustle in the breeze. “We’ll rest today, head for the mountain opening at midnight.”
“Midnight?” Amil grunts.
“If there are guards,” I reply, “I want them to be a bit on the sleepy side when we show up.”
“Oh,” Amil nods, “good idea. I say we wake them with a few good skull-bashing thumps to the head.”
“In the meantime,” Alonya volunteers, “Cara and I will try our luck at hunting. The dragons hunger.”
“That we should,” Tavin agrees, “water may fill a belly, but it doesn’t sustain one’s strength for long. Pim and I will go out too. Maybe we’ll bring down enough for the dragons and a bite for ourselves.”
Amil nudges Helmar but before they volunteer to hunt, I say, “Amil, you and Helmar can try your luck later today, towards evening. We’re in the enemy’s country, we need guards as well as hunters.”
Amil’s open mouth slowly closes and he grumbles. “Fair enough. As we’re the best hunters, we’ll still bring in the biggest buck, even if we start late.”
Alonya slaps Amil on the back. “Ever the Embellisher, Amil. An endearing if false statement. You’re looking at the two best.”
“Wagers?” Tavin asks. “As Pim and I intend to beat all you braggarts we want to make it worth our while.”
“Easy enough,” Amil grins, “whoever wins gets the pleasure of whacking the first bad guy we meet with your weapon of choice.”
“I like it,” Alonya grunts. “Done. And as I shall have the whack, I’ll make sure I take the largest of the lot and leave the puny ones to the rest of you.”
“We accept,” Tavin nods.
“Good,” Amil smiles. “No need for any of you laddy bucks and lasses to sharpen your swords or arrow points because Helmar and I will be the ones putting a fine edge to our blades.”
“We’ll see about that,” Tavin answers over his shoulder as he and Pim stride out of camp, followed by Alonya and Cara in the opposite direction.
“I’ll take first watch,” I volunteer, “with one other.”
“Me,” Snag offers.
“Good,” I answer, “the rest of you, get some sleep.”
It’s not long after we begin guarding the camp that Snag comes running up to me and motions for me to follow. We creep up to the overlook and he points. I suck in a breath. “Wilders!”
“Four there,” he grunts motioning off to one side and then points off in the opposite direction, “and four more there.”
“Moving slow and easy,” I note.
“To see better what lies below,” Snag nods.
I look over my shoulder and grimace. “I hope our hunters see them in time.”
“Should we try and warn them? I’m pretty sure I could track them down.”
I think for a moment before answering, “No. The less movement, the better. We’ll just have to trust that our hunting parties will have the sense to have their eyes and ears not just on the ground but on the sky, too.”
After watching the Wilders laze along for a few more moments, I direct, “Stay here, if they start moving our way—”
“You’ll be the second to know,” Snag interjects.
I give him a grim smile at his little joke and add, “I’m going to warn the others in camp.”
Scooting back from the overlook, as soon as I’m sure I can’t be seen I hurry over and wake the others. “Wilders!” I hiss. “Between us and the mountains.”
Helmar springs to his feet. “Cara and the others, we need to let them know.”
“No,” I state and Helmar swings around, his face darkening. “But—” he begins but I cut him off. “Cara and the others are smart. They’ll be watching the sky just as we are, and will hold in place until the Wilders pass by. In the meantime, the less movement and the less noise here, the better.”
Helmar works his mouth and I can see his hands ball themselves into fists before they relax. “All right,” he growls, “but if something happens to them, just remember that I wanted to warn them.”
“Noted,” I return, and then order, “keep down and no movement unless absolutely necessary. Same for the dragons.”
With that, I hurry back to join Snag. “Any change?”
“No,” Snag replies. “They’re just lazing along, headed for each other from opposite ends.”
“Do you think they know we’re here?”
Snag doesn’t answer, seems to be studying the Wilders. “I believe,” he begins slowly, “that Vay certainly thinks we’ll make an attempt to rescue Phigby.”
“And is hoping to catch us in the attempt.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“And here I was hoping that we could get to the opening unnoticed.”
“Don’t give up that hope, Hooper. We still have a chance. The forest in the valley is thick, Night’s Curtain will blanket it with darkness that not even a Wilder can see through. If we’re careful and quiet, we have a chance to get through.”
I peer at the river below, follow its gently curving path to the mountain. “Only eight Wilders searching,” I muse. “Either Vay’s getting low on Wilders or she’s unsure of where we’ll come from and—”
“Has to spread her forces out,” Snag nods, “cover as much ground as she can.”
“That’s what I think, too.”
“Which could be good or bad for us,” Snag returns. “If that river is the only way into the inner ring—”
“She’ll put extra guards there, maybe more than we can handle.”
“Perhaps not. After all, how many know that that river runs under the mountains? She may not put extra guards there, thinking we’ll try to sky through one of the mountain’s lower passes.”
“One can only hope and
if she’s looking for us to sky in, won’t she be in for a surprise.”
Snag lets out a long sigh. “No one ever said that doing what’s right was going to be easy.”
“Indeed,” I answer.
“Now you’re sounding like Phigby.”
I smile a little as I say, “Some people grow on you, you know.”
Snag returns my smile. “Indeed.”
We stay hidden on the overlook, watching the Wilders. Soon, the two sets pass each other and instead of turning around, they keep going. I snap my head up. “Did you just see that?”
“Indeed I did,” Snag replies.
We look at each other. “That’s it,” I state. “That’s how we get across the valley.”
“When they come together they don’t turn back,” Snag reflects, “but continue onward.”
“Yes,” I agree, “leaving the river unguarded until they come back around.”
“Not a particularly bright way of using your dragons,” Snag scoffs. “You’d think they’d be a little smarter about their patrols.”
“Count your blessings, or we might not have a chance of crossing the valley unseen.”
I scoot a little closer to the edge and look down. I study the landscape below from the overlook to the mountain’s base. As I do, my frown deepens. “We obviously can’t sky across, so we’ll have to walk, and that means—”
“No dragons,” Snag states at my shoulder.
I take in a deep breath, let it out. “No dragons. Regal alone would send trees toppling left and right.”
With a little shake of my head, I sigh, “At times, having a big purple dragon is wonderful, at other times—he’s one big problem.”
“True,” Snag rumbles, “but the real question is whether we can get into the inner bowl and to Vay’s portal without them? I admit, in all my thoughts about our task I didn’t foresee not having the dragons with us.”
I look down again, study the route to the mountain. “What if we left Regal behind?”
Snag snorts. “You’re braver than I thought, Hooper. How well do you think Alonya would take that pronouncement? You just might find an Amazos sword at your throat.”