“We need to stop on the ridge to scout. We may be heading in the wrong direction,” he called out.
Sesti reached for the nearest chunk of rock jutting from the cliff face and wedged a booted toe in a crevice. She climbed, looking for and finding places to grab and lips of rock to step on as she moved up the fissure.
The rest of the climb was silent but for the struggle of breathing and the scrabble of hands and feet on rock. The top of the ridge appeared out of the cloying fog and Sesti heaved herself up and over before turning and hauling her mother and Jadeth up behind her. Jaeger followed, eyeing the hip deep snow blocking the way forward.
“I’m going to move it out of the way, remain still.”
At their trio of expectant looks he grimaced. The tangle of icy power balled at the center of his chest loosened at his command and sent a surge of energy outwards. The wordless command sheared the packed snow off the ridgeline and over the edge of the cliff harmlessly. He frowned, startled, by the ease of it. It used to take more effort, more struggle, to control it.
“What is it?” Sesti asked, frowning. He jumped, startled, by the concern in them.
“I…that was odd,” he admitted finally. “I’m not used to commanding my power so effortlessly.”
“Why not?” She leaned aside to let Jadeth and her mother pass and continue along the now barren ridge. She fell in beside Jaeger and matched his long legged stride.
“I had promised myself to not use it.” He grimaced. The shards of ice within sharpened for a split second as if to let him know they were still there. The cold pain was brief, familiar. “It feels like I’m betraying them now.”
She stared at him, baffled surprise clear in her frown.
His gaze dropped to the rocky, damp path. “I never wanted this. None of this. I had promised to not become what I was forced to.”
She nodded. “You are a good man, Jaeger, and your immortality was forced on you. I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with it. I would do the same thing.”
“But?”
“But you can take what you were cursed with and make it a gift.”
Jaeger swallowed. “That’s hard to do.”
Sesti’s smile brightened her face. “Sometimes it is the little things, like clearing snow or building stairs, that is enough.” She bounced ahead, her long dark hair swaying as she hurried ahead to join her mother and Jadeth.
“Enough. Is that ever possible?” he whispered. He halted and turned on the spot to study the wild, rugged, harsh landscape that made up the Tevu empire. Ahead the ridge rose high and rugged to the mountain top. To his right was the steep cliff they’d scaled. Behind, and barely visible, was the distant outline of Anat. And to the left…
“Look,” he croaked, startled.
Everyone halted and turned to see what had captured his attention. To their surprise a faint trail seemed to vanish off the edge where he pointed. Jadeth inched closer and peered down. A ragged path followed the spine of another ridge downward and to the left, straight into a small clearing all but buried in snow. Twin spires of rock framed the edge of the cliff on the far side. Visible between the spires of rock was the Tevu Citadel, Anat.
“You found it.” Sesti gasped. She stumbled forward, but halted beside Jaeger. He stood, head down, hands fisted. “Jaeger, thank you.”
His head came up and their gazes met. Grief dug lines at their corners and twisted his lips.
“Don’t thank me,” he rasped. “I’ve done nothing.”
She gripped his arm, her frown back. “You do more than you think, Jaeger. For us all. Come.”
***
“Emaranthe? Emaranthe, come on,” Ivo sank to the ground, clutching her close. Their split second trip to the top of the mountain had been successful and he’d silently celebrated for an even quicker second when he’d felt his boots touch the stone before she’d collapsed in his arms. “Emaranthe?”
Gabaran’s quick reflexes had kept them from toppling off the flat topped boulder and to certain death below. He released Emaranthe’s cloak and stood with a grimace.
“She’s out cold, Ivo. That was too far to not first pull energy from the sun.”
“I hate that this happens to her and I can do nothing,” Ivo muttered. He gathered her close, making sure she was sheltered in his arms and unhurt. He sighed and closed his eyes. He would never get used to this. This uncontrollable fear when she put herself at so much risk. It wasn’t worth it.
“Don’t,” Gabaran barked. Ivo squinted up at him, blinded by the orange tinted sunlight of the sinking suns now that they were above the cloud line.
“What?”
“Don’t do that, Ivo,” Gabaran scowled down at him and Emaranthe. “Don’t treat her sacrifices like that. She does this for you. For Jadeth. For Jaeger. Perhaps even myself and Sesti. This is how she shows her love.”
“I’m not worth it,” Ivo began. Gabaran’s scowl turned dark and his pupils flared white.
“Don’t.” He growled. “You don’t get to tell her how to love you. Rejoice that she does. I saw her nearly die from her injuries countless times, over countless days, after Light delivered her to me. I expected it, almost wanted her to die so that I could get on with my life.”
Ivo swallowed at the terrible pain twisting the old elf’s face, the self loathing. Heartsick at the cruel words, he could only watch the elf’s emotions change to match his own.
Love.
Yes, love was what would save them as it had saved Ivo.
And Gabaran.
“I regretted those thoughts the moment she opened her eyes and truly saw me, Ivo.” Gabaran ran a shaking hand over his face, hiding his eyes and the panicked regret there. “She did not fear me. She did not look at me as if I were a monster, something my own people, my own sister, thought.” He gestured at his eyes where pinpricks of light glowed.
“What happened?”
“She smiled at me and something happened I never imagined,” Gabaran whispered. He closed his eyes and smiled. “Fire burned in her eyes, at first a small flicker, a ghostly flame. Then stronger and hotter, as we studied each other. Her first words to me almost broke my heart before stealing it.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘It’s not your fault, big brother,’.”
Ivo’s frown sharpened in confusion.
“I don’t understand, Gabaran, not your fault?”
“For my eyes, for our exile, for my sister, for everything.”
“You blamed yourself,” Ivo said. “Much as I do. As Jaeger does. As Jadeth does.”
Gabaran’s smile faded. “And yet she still loves us.”
Ivo’s arms tightened around her. His thumb gently traced her jaw to her slender throat where her heart beat. Relieved, he studied her fragile, beautiful face in the fading sunlight. A thought struck him as he marveled at the constellation of freckles dusting the bridge of her nose.
“Was she immortal back then?” Ivo glanced up at Gabaran, puzzled. “She never spoke of her time here.”
Gabaran frowned, his gaze on the unconscious mage. “I don’t know if she was immortalized from what had wounded her, or before that even. I only know that when she awoke, her magic awoke with her. You and I both hope that one day she will remember who she is.”
Yes, Ivo hoped for it. Wanted it. Needed it for her. But a small part of him worried for the day she will remember things better left forgotten.
***
Rodon walked straight ahead, trusting that the Necromancer wouldn’t dare try anything. Every step lead further into the thick blackness stretching in all directions.
“How long is this Dead Road, Necromancer?” he asked the darkness. The steady march of his boots on stone was matched by the sharp click of unseen heels somewhere to his right. The Necromancer kept pace.
“This is not a road for the weak of body or soul,” she spoke, her voice a breathy whisper in the dark. “It is a long journey.”
“How long?” Rodon growled
. His sense of direction had gone awry only a dozen steps into The Void. “Is it real time or a shortcut?”
“Neither.”
He halted a snarl twisting his lips. “How is it neither, bitch?”
“The Dead Road is but one part of The Void. Like the rest of it, time and space are–fluid.”
“I know how it operates,” he grunted. “My kind discovered it.”
“Did they now?” Alarandia rolled her eyes and glided further down the unseen road. Unseen, at least, to anyone but her.
The Dead Road was just that. A road for the dead to travel to their final place in the universe, wherever that might be. She sure as hell didn’t know–she resurrected them for her own use and didn’t bother asking politely where they wished to be sent when she was done with them.
“As time and space are not easily framed, I estimate a good day or two until we reach the edge of the Windwalker kingdom.” Alarandia relented. She turned to face the Immortal leader of The Unknown Sun and didn’t bother hiding the smirk. He walked confidently, his gaze sharp in the darkness, but wary.
“Keep up, Dro-Aconi, we wouldn’t want you to get lost here.” She chuckled.
She continued ahead of him. The path was narrow, faintly glowing, a mere footpath made of starlight and the vacuum of space. Side roads branched off to various times and places, but these she ignored. Occasionally a soul would slip past them and she would feel the shocking whisper of touch on her own cold skin. Judging from Rodon’s confidant march, he did not heed the dead and would instead push through them if they got in his way.
Most were content to glide by with a scowl for her…and him.
Most.
Chapter Eighteen
“Now what?” Jaeger paced the edge of the small clearing.
“We hope that Ivo, Gabaran, and Emaranthe find us.” Ishelene stood in the center of the clearing and studied it with narrowed eyes. “This place is old, very old. From the time when the Windwalkers first met the Starfarers.”
“That was over fourteen thousand years ago, right?” Jadeth stood before the twin standing stones at a loss. They were silent, unmoved by any flicker of magic. No veins of red ore. “Why would they build a portal here?”
“After our kind dispersed among the peoples, we shared small bits of our knowledge back and forth. I imagine creating this portal was one of the first things done. We were careful to never be seen with unexplainable technology, however.”
“Technology?” Jadeth asked. She jammed a braid into her mouth as she considered the odd word.
Ishelene grimaced. “It means ‘advanced knowledge’. We had to keep–”
“Secrets?” Jaeger grunted, his cold blue gaze now on the stones.
“Yes.” She sighed. “We all have secrets.”
Jaeger’s frown sharpened, but he remained silent.
“But way up here? That makes no sense.” Sesti propped her hands on her knees and peered out over the chasm into the dark reaches below. Jagged rocks and shifting shadows were all that she saw. The suns were sinking fast.
“You’re right, but you have to think like they did,” Ishelene continued. “The Windwalkers would use this given the location. They could fly up here without a second thought.”
“But why, mother?” Sesti joined them at the center of the clearing. “How does one work it?”
Ishelene shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Jaeger snapped, “You don’t know? You were supposedly one of the Starfarer’s, were you not?”
Her frown deepened but she sighed. “Yes, but I did not create these, nor the others. That was not what I was capable of.”
“Then who?” He turned to study the gap between the stones. Nothing shimmered like water made of light, no out of focus image appeared. For a split second the urge to reach out and touch the empty space was overwhelming. He pushed the palm of his hands out, unsure if what he searched for was tangible or not.
“Tanari, or to be less specific, her family. And that is what worries me.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. His hands only touched cold air so he drew them back in disappointment.
“If Tanari could open this portal then so could Rodon.”
Sesti moved past Jaeger to stand between the twin spires and turned on the spot, studying them. Her fingers reached out to trace the jagged stone.
A screech shattered the peace and quiet of the clearing, sending everyone to their knees, hands clapped over ears. Sesti stumbled away from the stones with a cry as the ground beneath them heaved and buckled. The trees rising above them bled snow from their branches. The wind sharpened into a howl as the horrifying sound cut off abruptly leaving behind a damning silence.
Jadeth shook her head to clear it. “Is everyone okay?”
Jaeger and Ishelene climbed to their feet with a mixture of groans and winces.
“What just happened?” Jaeger stumbled away from the stones and reached for Sesti, who had curled into a protective ball. Slender fingers covering long, dainty, ears were coated with blood.
It had, he realized, hurt her far worse than anyone else. Soft sobs stabbed like a dagger to the heart. Alarmed, he reached for her hand and eased it aside. Blood streaked her jaw line below her ear. “Sesti, breathe. Just breathe.”
She winced, but the gasping sobs quieted. He heard footsteps and glanced up at Jadeth.
“Can you heal her?”
Jadeth reached for the hammer and swung it high. Ribbons of green light, no more solid than sunlight, drifted on an invisible string to surround their entire group. The slight warmth and hum of healing deep within his bones nearly made Jaeger sigh out loud. Instead, he focused on Sesti, his jaw clenched. He did not deserve to feel better than anyone else right now.
Gradually her stiff frame relaxed and she rolled to a sitting position. The utter defeat burning her dark blue eyes hit everyone hard. Jaeger backed away from her, his throat tight.
That Sesti remained silent was tellingly heartbreaking.
“What was that?” Sesti finally croaked. Her gaze swept the clearing, suspicion tightening her mouth. She stood, swayed on her feet, but straightened her spine.
“It was that same wail again, only stronger,” Jadeth said. She turned in a circle to study the clearing with a frown. “Some sort of alarm. I don’t understand why it would go off when you touched it. What had set it off before?”
“I don’t know.” Jaeger’s usual sarcasm failed him beneath the avalanche of guilt. He staggered beneath it, the mental anguish. He felt Sesti’s gaze hone in on him. He swallowed and looked her in the eye. “I don’t’ like not knowing. Are you all right, Sesti?”
She looked at him right back, her features now wan and strained. She nodded.
“I understand this now, warrior,” she whispered. “I felt it for a mere moment and it could have killed me. How do you do this, day after day, lifetime after lifetime? I am so sorry.”
Jaeger opened his mouth. Shut it. That was not the blame and anger he needed.
“You have nothing to be sorry for Sesti. You did not do this to me, us.” He gestured at Ishelene and Jadeth, who watched in stunned silence.
“That screech hurt. It felt like torture. Of pain. Of guilt. Of Fear. Of anger,” she said. “It was all that you bear for us. I did not understand until now.” She shook her head. Damp strands clung to her cheeks and eyelashes to mix with snowflakes.
He looked up at the sky, startled. Snow was now falling all around them, bringing with it a blanket of muffling cold. The cold gray sky above taunted him, his soul.
“We bear it so you don’t have to, Sesti,” he said. “We bear it for those that have lost everything.”
He turned to face Ishelene, noted her drawn features and weariness.
“Are you happy now, Ishelene. She has finally seen what we are.”
Ishelene swallowed. “And what is that, Jaeger?”
He turned away, didn’t acknowledge that she finally used his name.
“I don’t know
anymore. I fear we are not who we were made to be. What I do know is,” he turned to face the portal stones. “That the answers we seek lie far away on the other side of those stones.”
***
Emaranthe drifted in a nothingness that was more gray than black. Not like ,The Void she realized, but something else.
“Emaranthe? Wake up. Can you hear me?” Ivo’s voice called from somewhere far beyond the grayness. She smiled. She liked to hear his deep, gravelly voice.
The world shook suddenly, violently.
She jerked awake with a cry that seemed to echo the fading one riding the wind. Cradled in Ivo’s lap, he’d hunched his broad frame over hers protectively to shield her from the unknown attack.
It took her a foggy moment to recognize it. A scream, a wail. A tortured, horrible sound. Her fingers spasmned, clutching Ivo’s clothing, her breathing wild and strained, like his.
Gabaran appeared behind Ivo and helped them untangle and stand. Still weak and shaky on her feet, she clung to Ivo, but studied the landscape keenly, not wanting to see the stark worry and anxiety in his eyes. She felt it though, in the stiff, overprotective way he held her against him.
“By all that was holy, what was that?” Gabaran growled at the howling wind as if waiting for it to answer.
Ivo shook his head, but didn’t look away from Emaranthe. It was hard to tell the time of day, but not quite dark. Still light enough for her to see the fear in his beautiful green eyes.
She turned to face him then and held his gaze.
“I’m okay now, Ivo,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”
He studied her face carefully and relaxed. Sort of. He didn’t remove his arms and she was grateful. She was weakened still, by the loss of energy, and with the fading suns there would be none to take for a while.
“We must find the others. Something is wrong,” Ivo muttered against her hair.
“I agree.” Gabaran appeared beside Emaranthe, his scowl still on the sky. Snowflakes began to fall until a creeping gray fog prevailed. “I do not like this.” He rubbed his eyes, suddenly appearing older, more tired. She inhaled sharply. Gabaran looked his age all of the sudden.
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