“It does.” Alronna pulled Lakhoni into a tight embrace. “This is the best thing,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The very best.”
“My brother will be married!” Lamorun leapt over the log bench and swept Alronna and Lakhoni into a hug, squeezing them tight.
“Careful,” Lakhoni managed. “Still healing!”
Lamorun’s arms tightened around them. “My brother and sister.” His voice was a gruff whisper, thick with emotion. “My family. Great Spirit bless you.”
Lakhoni’s head pounded with memories and wishes, regrets that Mother and Father were not alive to be part of this. But maybe they were still around in some way. We will finish this fight, Lakhoni directed his thoughts toward his parents, wherever they might be. He held his sister and brother. Simra joined the hug. Then we will live a life to make you proud.
Lamorun stepped back and his face cracked with a huge grin. “After the turning of the season, you will be wed. And then you will make me an uncle!”
Lakhoni and Simra exchanged a look, then turned matching raised eyebrows at Lamorun. Lakhoni sniffed and grinned. “You and Hilana first!”
“Are we certain Corzon was correct?” Hilana hacked at the hanging, grasping vines and wide-leafed plants that blocked every step they took.
“He grew up in the north,” Lakhoni said, wielding a thin, flat, curved blade like Hilana’s and slashing at the wall of growth ahead of him. “This is all we have.” His arm muscles ached and the place where his stitches had been still pulled a little with some of his more vigorous movements.
“You’re slowing, Lakhoni,” Lamorun said from behind Hilana and Lakhoni, who were doing their best to blaze the trail. “I’ll take over again.”
Lakhoni didn’t argue. He handed the chopping blade, its handle slick with sweat, to Lamorun. Simra caught his eye. She had taken up a fallen length of vine and was stripping the leaves off it as they walked. “How do you feel?”
“Just tired.” He lifted his arm to show her where he had healed well from the boar’s goring. “It’s been three weeks of mostly walking. I’m fine.”
“And your chest?” She placed her right hand on his healing ribs for a moment as they kept moving slowly forward through the dense section of forest. The green ribbon he’d given her at the fire in her village had faded in color a little, but remained in place.
“Doesn’t hurt to breathe,” Lakhoni said.
“It’s the teas,” Simra said. “Father must have some kind of magic that he puts in his mixtures.”
“Or just foul leaves and powders that scare my body so much it heals faster so it can stop drinking that stuff.” Lakhoni did not look forward to the evening tea that Simra had been making him drink every night since they left. Throughout the long journey up the hard-packed road to Lukozilxa, she made tea every night from several bundles Neas had given her.
It was funny, Lakhoni thought, that he had never even imagined where that road went. He had found it and taken it south to Zyronilxa, not thinking anything of where it led to going north. It turned out that the road north ended at the south end of Lukozilxa, which was smaller than the capital, but still immense. It had square blagros, as opposed to the circle ones in Zyronilxa. Vendors clustered the sides of every major road and packed into every inch of space in the squares. It smelled almost as bad as Zyronilxa too. If they’d brought one of the dogs, the animal would have gone crazy with all the odors. But Lakhoni couldn’t deny that he had opted to leave both dogs with Balon and Falon out of a deep worry that this journey might end badly. Balon and Falon had lost enough—they didn’t need to lose more of their beloved dogs. Luckily, they had only been in the city for a day as they sought information.
They had found very little there. Every time they asked somebody about the descendants of Lukoz, the person would give them a strange look and wave vaguely off to the west. Then the wildly differing information began. One gnarled old woman spoke of the singing hills out past the living forest. Lakhoni shook his head and took a long draw from his water skin. What forest wasn’t living?
Lakhoni brought himself back to the present. “What are you doing with the vine?”
Simra flapped the long thing a few times. It trailed behind her at least ten paces. “This is tough, flexible vine. If I can clean it and work it carefully, I could use it for slings, a rough bandage, or to tie off a bad injury.”
“Hopefully none of that will be necessary.” Lakhoni followed Lamorun’s lead around a large tree with branches that hung nearly to the ground, heavily burdened with dark, round pods. He’d knocked one off two days ago to check what it was, but when it hit the ground it cracked open and everyone had felt sick to their stomachs from the worst smell they’d ever experienced. He didn’t want to do that again.
“And maybe we’ll be out of this awful place soon.” Simra slapped at one of the many stinging bugs that had been plaguing them since they first entered what they all agreed had to be what the old woman had called the living forest. “Being bitten and stung by these things so much can’t be good for a person.” She had red spots up and down her arms and neck. Which Lakhoni couldn’t currently see because she had wrapped her cold weather cloak around her arms and pinned it with sharp, spiny needles. All he could see of her skin was her hands and face.
“The man we talked to at the butchery said the living forest was a three-day journey to get through. This is our third day.” Lakhoni missed the unfettered sun. The moment they had entered this moist, overgrown forest, the sun had been mostly blocked by giant leaves. They had scarcely been able to clear space to camp in, and their hamuks wouldn’t work on any of the trees because although the trees were big, they were not strong. They just bent when he put his weight on the sling bed and he found himself sleeping on the ground.
The trees were very flexible though. Once he took the hamuk off, they sprang back up to straight as if nothing had happened.
“I’ve never seen so much green,” Simra said. “Even when we had plenty of rain during the spring. The trees would flourish and grow, but nothing like this.”
“I’ve never seen a plant that will eat flesh,” Lakhoni said.
Simra nodded and shuddered, still working her vine. They had found and slain something that looked a lot like a hapcha soon after getting into the forest. They’d cleaned it and tried to start a fire to cook it, but couldn’t find nearly enough dry wood to cook it. Then, when Lakhoni, Alronna, and Simra had gone back a ways to gather wood from the edges of the wet forest, they had found the skin they’d left behind. But the tendrils of a plant had found it in the intervening hours and had pulled it partway into the ground.
They got back with their load of wood and told Lamorun and Hilana and both of them had looked around. “The plant found the skin and pulled it into the ground?’ Hilana asked. “Did it look like it might find living people sleeping on the dirt and pull them into the ground too?”
The conversation had devolved from there, but they always had someone on watch not only for animal and human predators.
“That was an animal skin, not really flesh,” Alronna said as she slipped back into sight. She was roaming around and ahead, acting as a scout, trying to find the best way through the thick growth. “And we’ve got these great blades to cut at the plants, so it’s only good, really.” The Sword still hung at Alronna’s side, but she held her blade, which the vendor had called a katte out, admiring it. Green plant bits stuck to it. She had clearly been putting it to good use. “Think of what they could do to a person.” She bared her teeth.
Lakhoni ignored that. “Did you find anything?”
Alronna shrugged. “Oh, not really. Except that it looks like we’re nearing the edge of this mess.” She slashed at a tall plant with wide, heavy, circular leaves. It fell to the ground.
Simra gave a relieved sigh. “How far?”
Alronna pursed her lips. “Less than an hour.” She turned and caught up to Lamorun and Hilana, who were simply pushing through the slightly les
s dense growth that they had just come to.
Lakhoni ran his hand up the stem of a plant like the one Alronna had just cut down. “This is a strange one. It’s got hairs on the stem and the bottom of the leaves. I can touch them and they do nothing, but if my clothes touch them, they stick and I have to nearly cut them off to remove them.”
“It seems like we could use that for something,” Simra said. She narrowed her eyes to look at the plant. “Will you get a leaf for me?”
“Not everything can be used for a bandage.”
“I’m not thinking bandage, raca.”
Lakhoni paused and cut a leaf. “Does it seem like we’re going up a hill?”
“This whole forest seems like it’s on a slope,” Simra said.
“It is,” Alronna said, rejoining the two of them. “A big slope.” She had a small smile.
“What did you see, Alronna?” Lakhoni knew that smile. “You’re keeping something from us.”
“It’s better experienced when you’re not expecting it.”
“But now we’re expecting it!” Lakhoni hacked at a plant that seemed like it was reaching for him.
“But you don’t know what you’re expecting,” Alronna said. “Which is better.”
Lakhoni shook his head and dropped the subject.
“The growth is definitely getting thinner,” Hilana called back.
Simra quickened her pace, handing the vine to Lakhoni. “Here. Take all the leaves and growth off. It needs to be as smooth as possible.” She traded places with Hilana and began hacking at the growth.
Much less than an hour later, they emerged into bright, late-afternoon sun. Lakhoni’s mouth dropped open. They were on a high ridge looking out over a vast, rolling plain with canyons and rivers cutting through it. At the far edge of the plain rose a stout mountain range, with a cone-shaped mountain just off center from their vantage point. Haze didn’t obscure the mountain range, so it couldn’t be too far off.
“That is,” Simra took a long breath, wiping sweat from her brow. “Amazing.”
“I have never seen its like,” Lamorun said. He wasn’t breathing hard and didn’t have a drop of sweat anywhere. He seemed to be getting stronger by the day.
“That’s where they say the descendants settled.” Lakhoni scoured what he could make out of the hills and flat areas. “It’s almost all hills.”
“Listen for the singing.” Alronna laughed.
“That’s ridiculous,” Lakhoni said. “But everyone we talked to agreed that they had settled in hills past the living forest.” He let out a long breath, shaking his head. “Maybe we should have taken a dog and gone back to try to pick up Gadnar’s trail. This is…” he trailed off, waving a tired hand at the massive plain.
“Lots of hills,” Simra said. “But we’ll find him.”
“First, we must find a way down,” Hilana said. She had hooked the katte to her heavy leather belt with a loop. “Then we will find the hills.”
Alronna turned left and followed the ridge as it went down at a gentle slope. “I think I saw something back here a ways.”
Everyone fell in behind Alronna and they stuck to the ridge for the better part of an hour before the rocky edge ended at a steep slope that led upward. Alronna pointed to her right. “There!” She pointed at a nearly invisible, V-shaped ravine that sloped down from where the ridge they had been following ended at the slope. As they began to follow the ravine down, a smell assaulted their nostrils.
Lakhoni blinked at the light mist that filled the air and the odor. The sharp smell reminded him of something.
The brick yards. Where he’d gone with the merchants after leaving Simra’s village.
“What is that stink?” Simra wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t know,” Hilana said. She had already tied a strip of cloth over her mouth and nose. “It makes my head throb.”
“I’ve smelled this before,” Lamorun said. He had one arm over his fact to block the stench, which was getting stronger. “Shelu called it sulfur.” He waved a hand. “This fog comes from when the sulfur and the stone it is in mixes with the springs of water.” Lamorun ran his hand down a rock face that protruded from the steep ravine wall. He held out his hand, which dripped with water. “Would anybody like a drink?”
Everybody ignored him.
Lakhoni reached into his bag and found a shirt to tie around his face. It helped a lot.
The ravine’s downward slope increased and they had to fight to not fall into a run. The trees and boulders that filled the ravine helped them keep their descent under control, but it was still hard work. Lakhoni fought to breathe only through his mouth as they descended through the sulfur fog.
They descended in silence, the walls of the ravine growing steeper and higher and the floor of the ravine widening. Before long, the fog grew thinner, then dissipated. Lakhoni glanced up the ravine slope, removing the shirt from his face. The mist still hung in the air behind them, filling the space, but it looked like the wider the ravine got, the more wind could blow through and disperse it. And take the stench with it.
“That was truly awful,” Simra said. She stuffed her mask into a pouch.
Hilana was blinking and rubbing her temples. “I thought club leg here smelled bad. That was torture.”
Lamorun chuckled but didn’t reply. Alronna had already ranged ahead, her bow slung across her chest and sword at her side. The katte she’d been using to hack through the heavy green growth was slung at her back.
They continued their descent, angling around huge, dark boulders and half the time walking on patches of shale that appeared to have sheared off the boulders as they fell from somewhere above. Everything was either wet or damp, but not from rain. It was clear that there were hundreds of springs in the ravine walls, some of which were visible. They trickled down the rocky face of the ravine wall, thick, fuzzy moss growing in green patches all over. The ravine floor soon widened to the point that it was no longer a ravine, but a valley that opened into the hilly plains they had seen from above.
Alronna’s shout echoed up the slope. Lakhoni burst into a run, spotting her at least a hundred paces down, not far above where the hilly plains began. She was to the left side of the rocky slope, looking up at the ravine wall. Except it was a craggy, rocky cliff now that extended several hundred feet up.
“Alronna, what is it?” Lakhoni called out when he was within thirty paces and still running. He gripped the handle of his dagger, but kept it in the sheath. It would be foolish to trip over something on the valley floor and break his blade. Or worse, hurt himself with it. His katte, like Alronna’s, was slung against his back.
“Look at that!” Alronna pointed.
Lakhoni drew to a stop within a few paces of her and looked up. He shook his head, disbelieving what he was seeing. Were those windows and doors? Had the sulfur fog addled his brain? He rubbed his eyes. “Is that—”
“It’s like a city,” Alronna said as the others caught up to them.
“A small city.” Lakhoni added.
“Built into the cliff.” Alronna’s eyes darted all over, taking in the unbelievable sight.
“Great Spirit!” Simra’s mouth dropped open. “Are those houses in the cliff face?”
“Something like that.” Alronna approached the rock face. The lowest house was level with the ground and a small, narrow opening appeared to be the door. The houses had no visible roof, but some of them had something of an outline that was visible and there were a series of openings dotting the rock face, with only darkness beyond them.
“Don’t go in there,” Lakhoni said. “That’s somebody’s home.”
“Not anymore.” Simra pointed. “There’s no life here. No smells of food being prepared. No fire. No movement.”
She was right. The cliff city had been abandoned. Although why anyone would abandon such an impressive home made no sense to Lakhoni. He stepped back and tried to make a guess as to how many homes were built into the solid, gray cliff face.
&n
bsp; Alronna had climbed into the house and poked her head out of the small, square opening that must have been a window. “You have to see this.”
Lakhoni stood outside while the others climbed into the house and their voices began to echo. He saw movement through the window of the first home, then he heard voices coming from several different places.
Lamorun’s head popped out of a window at the height of five men off the ground. “Lakhoni, this is like nothing you have ever seen. One house leads to another. All are connected with ladders. And some go deep into the mountain.”
Lakhoni looked around, making sure there wasn’t some danger lurking nearby waiting to attack when nobody was paying attention. He gauged the size of the doorway everyone else had gone through and took a slow breath. He centered quickly, then launched. He took three long steps and leapt, slipping cleanly through the door and landing on a rock floor a slight drop down from the opening.
He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The stone floor was bare but for pieces of wood and shards of what must have been a clay pot or bowl. The back of the space was farther into the cliff face than he had guessed. The house had to be at least five paces wide. Only just above his head was a partial stone roof, but also a wide opening. An old wooden ladder leaned against the opening, its base propped against the stone wall of the house. Lakhoni clambered up the ladder and found that as he neared the top, he could look up and see a series of openings staggered back and forth and stretching far above. This next house was even wider than the first, but was cleaner than the first.
“This is incredible!” That was Simra’s voice. Lakhoni poked his head out of the rough square opening that let in the afternoon light.
“Lakhoni!” Alronna’s voice, from above.
He turned and looked up. She was several homes up, her long black hair hanging on both sides of her face. From this angle she looked like a strange bush growing from the rock wall.
“How did they do this?” Hilana’s voice came from somewhere he couldn’t determine. The irregular openings in the stone homes distorted it too much. “The tools needed for this would be…” She trailed off.
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