* * *
Catrin grew weary of the mines and the walking. They passed various chambers of different sizes along the way, but they stayed within the halls and plodded along in the gloom. Faint echoes teased them, and at times, Catrin thought she heard the slow drip of water.
After what seemed like a month, they reached an intersection, and Brother Vaughn turned. The new hall seemed like all the rest at first, but then Catrin noticed a change: They were ascending. The incline was slight and barely discernable, but Catrin felt it in the backs of her legs. Longing to see the sky, she hoped they were nearing the exit.
The incline continued, and from the shadows, a curve in the hall appeared. It was the first time the tunnels had been anything but straight, and Catrin grew anxious. Beyond the gentle curve, a narrow cavern emerged, and nestled within it was a pond of dark and foreboding water that lay under a haze of steam. Brother Vaughn extinguished his lantern and asked Benjin to douse his as well.
Total darkness crowded around them, and Catrin could see nothing in the pitch, but after a moment, Brother Vaughn rekindled his lantern. The sudden brightness hurt Catrin's eyes, but it was better than the impenetrable darkness.
"I believe it's safe to exit, but if I do not return, wait for half a day before following. There is an opening in the far wall, just below the surface. You must swim under the rock, and when you clear it, you will be outside. Use the wax in your packs to seal them as best as you can. I'll see you on the other side." After one final look at his sand clock, Brother Vaughn handed it to Benjin. Looking doubtful and concerned, he swam to the far end of the pond and disappeared below the surface.
Catrin held her breath. She didn't know what possible dangers could prevent Brother Vaughn from coming back, but icy fear clutched her bowels. She'd lost too many friends already, and she desperately wanted Brother Vaughn to return safely. Bubbles appeared in the water near the far wall, and Catrin jumped when Brother Vaughn's head popped up not far from where she stood.
Benjin assisted her with the sealing of her pack, and they joined Brother Vaughn in the water. It was not a complete surprise to find the water unusually warm--the steam had been a clue--but it still seemed a bizarre phenomenon. Brother Vaughn wasted no time, and he dived below the surface again. Benjin waited a moment then ushered Catrin through next.
With a deep breath, she ducked under the water and pushed off with her feet. It was difficult to swim with her staff in hand, and she hoped she did not have far to go. A flurry of small forms bumped into her along the way, which was uncomfortable and disconcerting, and she struggled to remain oriented. She used the staff to feel for the end of the stone, and as soon as it gave way, she thrust herself to the surface. Icy night air greeted her, and she gasped for breath.
"Stay in the water for now," Brother Vaughn said as he gained the rocky shore. A full moon shed plenty of light to see by, and Catrin watched as Brother Vaughn gathered wood for a fire. She could see the mist of his breath before him, and she knew he must be freezing. With wet and shaking hands, he attempted to kindle a fire, but it refused to catch. Catrin and Benjin wanted to climb free of the water, but they were already soaked to the bone, and the cold air would assault them, just as it sent shudders through Brother Vaughn's form. For the moment, they held their packs high and waited.
A small orange glow gave them hope, and Brother Vaughn blew gently. A wisp of smoke rose into the air, and the crackle of burning pine needles carried across the water. At the first sign of flames, Catrin pulled herself from the water, but she soon regretted it. They would need a sizable bonfire to keep the frigid winds at bay, and she paced around the meager fire, rubbing her hands along her raised flesh, hoping to generate warmth and stave off the numbness.
As she paced along the shore, she tripped on an unexpected obstruction. The fire suddenly leaped higher as Benjin tossed more pine needles on, and Catrin could see the obstacle: it was the skeletal remains of a large animal. Perhaps a horse or bear, she was not certain. In the light of the growing fire, she saw other skeletons of various sizes.
"What danger did you fear when you swam through?" Catrin asked.
"Daggerfish," Brother Vaughn replied, and Catrin was shocked by his words. She had learned of daggerfish many years ago. They were said be capable of removing the flesh from a horse in a matter of moments, which was further evidenced by the bleached remains strewn along the shore. Though small, daggerfish possessed razor-sharp teeth and voracious appetites. They were said to travel in schools, and their attack was likened to a cloud of death.
"You suspected there were daggerfish in these waters?" Catrin asked, incredulous.
"Suspected? No. I knew for a fact these waters are infested with them. I was just uncertain what time of day it was. Had I been wrong, we would not be speaking now," he said with a shrug.
Catrin was too stunned to speak, and she just stared at him in horror.
"It is a little-known fact, you see, that daggerfish will not feed under a full moon. Most folks are warded off by the evidence of their presence, and few are willing to risk their lives to find out such a thing."
Chills ran along Catrin's spine as she realized it was the daggerfish she had bumped into during her swim, and she shivered. She could not imagine what it would be like to be torn apart by razor-sharp teeth, but macabre visions filled her mind.
"I'm truly sorry for not telling you, but many would have balked no matter what I said; thus, I left you in ignorance. Please accept my apologies," Brother Vaughn said, looking sheepish.
"Well. We're still alive, thanks to you," Catrin said, "and I'm grateful for that, but please, if ever we are in a similar situation, apprise me of the danger. I would rather know what death I face," Catrin said, and Brother Vaughn nodded his assent, however unlikely it was they would ever be in similar circumstances.
The heat of the fire seeped into Catrin's clothes, and steam rose from them as they dried. The surrounding land soared at steep angles, with the exception of the north, where it opened into a rolling forest. The trees were not as large as greatoaks, but they were some of the largest oaks, elms, and sycamores in the world.
"Our fire should only be visible in the forest to the north, which is, for the most part, uninhabited. It should signal Barabas of our need, and I hope he'll arrive before long. I don't want to leave before you have become acquainted, but if he does not arrive soon, I will have to leave you," Brother Vaughn said, and they settled around the fire to wait.
Catrin turned her back to the fire so it would dry the rest of her clothes. The chill had mostly left her, but still she shivered.
Benjin wandered nearby as he gathered bits of wood for the fire.
Brother Vaughn rested. "Will you wake me after two turns of the sand clock?"
"Yes," Benjin said, accepting the sand clock. "I'll keep watch until then."
Catrin's thoughts wandered to Vertook. In all the chaos, she hadn't had time to properly grieve his loss. He'd been a good friend to her, and his death was as unfair as anything Catrin had ever experienced. The pointless waste of life filled her with rage, and she longed to lash out at someone--anyone. Benjin seemed to sense her unrest, and he placed his arm around her shoulders. She shared his warmth but found no solace.
Too much had been taken from her in such a short time, and she began to harden to the cares of the world. Why should she even attempt to save the Zjhon from the Statue of Terhilian when they would kill everyone around her to prevent that very thing? Perhaps she should simply let them suffer the consequences of their folly, but the thought rang discordant, and she knew she could never be so callous; it was simply not her nature. She cared deeply about every living thing, and no amount of hardship could change that, she hoped.
Her thoughts turned to the gods and the origins of her world. She'd heard fanciful stories about gods gambling on the outcome of seemingly random events and cheating each other with their subtle influences on the lives of men. Those tales had never rung true for Catrin; it seemed t
oo petty a pastime for beings capable of creating such a beautiful and amazing place.
Considering what she'd heard about ancient peoples making up stories of gods in order to explain the unknown, she wondered if people in the future would look back on her generation and laugh at their misconceptions. Perhaps they will laugh away many of society's current superstitions and beliefs, and yet they will still probably have their own delusions.
She wondered where the religious pomp and ceremony had come from and who had written the sacred writings. As far as she knew, no one in at least a thousand years had written anything considered sacred, and she wondered why the old writings were sanctified. She began to think the sacred texts had been written by ordinary men and were littered with the opinions of those men, who claimed to have been influenced by the gods.
Catrin had seen what society did to those who claimed anything close to divine inspirations. She had seen Nat Dersinger ostracized for that very reason, and she had been a party to it. She'd held tightly to the beliefs taught by ancient prophets and had cast insults at a living prophet. How could one believe prophets existed in ancient times but somehow could not exist now? The realization shamed her, even if it conflicted with Mother Gwendolin's teachings.
It took time to reconcile herself to many of her feelings, and she had more questions than answers. She imagined what life would be like if she had all of the answers, and she decided it would be much easier but excessively boring. If she always knew what was about to happen, then there would never be any excitement or surprises in life, and though she was weary of surprises and excitement, she could not picture life without them.
Brother Vaughn's snores broke the silence, and Catrin steeled herself from sleep. Someone needed to stay alert, and she was unwilling to ask it of Benjin alone. She stood and walked circles around the fire in an effort to keep her blood moving and the lethargy at bay. Benjin saw the wisdom in her actions and joined her. He walked in the opposite direction, and they smiled at each other every time they passed.
Catrin nearly leaped from her skin when a voice like grating stone bellowed from the trees: "Greetings, landfriends."
A great bear of a man strode from the forest. He stood taller than anyone Catrin had ever seen, and his chest was as big around as a barrel. The furs and skins that adorned him accentuated his fearsome appearance. His hair was dark and coarse, like that of a horse's tail, and the curls of his beard covered much of his face. Still, a wide grin was visible beneath it.
"Barabas, my friend," Brother Vaughn said through a stifled yawn. "It's good to see you well. I'm sorry to call on you, but the need is great."
"Have no fear, landfriend. I come freely and will assist you if I can. Strange powers are afoot. I feel danger encroaching, but we'll face this new challenge together. Yes?"
"I'm sorry, old friend, I cannot join this quest, for I must return to Ohmahold. Our dear Mother Gwendolin was laid down by the Zjhon, and I must attend the ascension of her successor," Brother Vaughn said. A frown crossed Barabas's face, carving deep furrows on his brow.
"This is Catrin Volker of the Godfist," Brother Vaughn said, but Barabas interrupted him.
"She's more than that," he said, his eyes full of Catrin, as if she were a treasure. "Greetings, heart of the land. I've awaited you. And your shield, I see. You are her protector. Yes?" Barabas asked, his eyes on Benjin.
"You are correct. I am Benjin Hawk. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Barabas." He stepped forward and offered his hand to the large man, but Barabas surprised them all by lifting Benjin from the ground in a mighty hug.
"You've done well to get her here alive, Guardian Benjin," he said as he lowered Benjin to the ground. "And you, heart of the land, you've done well to survive the perils of your journey. It pleases me to see you both."
"And it pleases us to see you," Catrin said in an attempt to return the compliment. His words were strange, and she wondered what he meant by her being a heart of the land.
Brother Vaughn stood and spoke quietly with Barabas a moment; then he turned to Catrin. "I must leave you now, while it is still dark, but I wish you a safe and blessed journey. May fate be kinder to you than it has been in the past, and may we meet again under brighter skies."
"You have my most sincere thanks, Brother Vaughn," Catrin said. "I'll never forget what you've done for me, and I'll keep my word. We will meet again, and I'll return what you've left in my keeping. Until then . . ." She stepped forward to embrace him, and he hugged her warmly.
Benjin stepped toward the monk, his hand outstretched. "I cannot thank you enough, and I know we've asked more from you yet. I hope our requests don't inconvenience you terribly."
Brother Vaughn took the offered hand. "Do not fret. My journey will be a pleasure compared to what you face. Blessings to you all," Brother Vaughn said as he entered the steaming water, and soon he was lost in the depths.
Catrin was sorry to see him go. He was one of the few pillars of strength left in her world, and she cherished him for that, but she knew he had left her in capable hands. The energy that radiated from Barabas was filled with rightness, as if he lived more like a tree than a man.
After removing a tanned skin from his raiment, Barabas used it to carry water to the fire and extinguish it.
"Come, landfriends, we've dallied too long in the light of your fire. We should be gone from here before others respond to the beacon," he said, and he led them into the night. He bore no torch or lantern, and in the shadows of the mighty trees, they followed him by sound more than sight.
Moonlight streamed through bare branches, and what Catrin did see was a wonder. The life within this forest was as pure as any she had ever encountered. It was mostly untouched by man and lived by its own rules. It was pure and just felt right.
When she reached out with her senses, the land responded. It greeted her and made her feel at home, as if it had been awaiting her return. It was a strange thing to think, given the fact that she had never been there before, but something about it was familiar; it was home. Oddly, she felt even her staff respond to the land, as if it were reaching out to greet its brethren.
Barabas smiled as he watched her, as if he could sense her questing as well as the response. "The land greets you well, does it not, heart of the land?"
"It does, Barabas. But may I ask why you call me that?"
"You truly do not know?" he asked, clearly astonished by her question.
"I fear I do not," Catrin said. "There are many things I do not know."
Barabas laughed from his belly. His laughter was pure and joyous, its deep chorus akin to the sound of stones being poured into a bucket. "So you've chosen forgetfulness in this life. Your spirit knows all there is to know about this world, but the mystery can be fun. Yes?" Barabas said, confusing Catrin even further. "Even if you've chosen to forget, I suppose there is no harm in telling a bit. Your spirit has been here before, and it shall come again. You are a heart of the land because you have lived as every form of life on this blessed planet. You've basked in the sun as a blade of grass, soared in flight as a swallow, and swum the seas. You know the pain of childbirth and death, and you know the joys of rebirth. You and I, we've traveled far and wide together, and I must admit, I'm surprised you do not at least recognize me. I take no offense, mind you. I'm just surprised. There are others like you, but normally only a few are here, in this world, at one time. My kind have been called the souls of the land, and your kind have been called the hearts of the land."
"I don't have the images of those memories," Catrin said," but I feel a kinship to you and this land. It speaks to me. I've touched the land in other places, and I've felt its life, but never has it greeted me as such."
"Ah, then at least you've not left all memory behind. Perhaps our time together will awaken that which lies hidden, hmm?"
"You may be right. It seems your words have already changed me."
"Hmm," he said, his eyes far away. He led them deeper into the forest. "Wh
ere are you bound, Catrin?" Her name sounded strange on his lips, and he looked as if he were not sure it was befitting of her.
"We're bound for southern Faulk. The Zjhon have unearthed a Statue of Terhilian," she said, but she stopped when he slowly turned to face her.
His face was crimson, and the veins stood out on his forehead. The cords of his neck strained against his anger, and his clenched fists quivered at his sides. "To the deepest abyss with Von of the Elsics. The land has not yet cleansed itself from the last time his aberrations were unleashed. We should've destroyed them when we had the chance, but the time was too short, and once Istra's power was gone from the world, we were without the means. The land must not be made to pay the price for the madness of men--not again," he said.
Catrin was relieved she was not the target of his rage. He was a fearsome man when he was calm, but in his anger, he was terrifying. "Be not afraid, heart of the land. I've no quarrel with you, but the news you bring darkens my soul. The Statues of Terhilian use the faith of the devoted as a weapon against them. It is death brought about by deceit, and such a thing should never be done. We've still to pay for mistakes made by Von of the Elsics."
"I wish it wasn't true," Catrin said, and Barabas nodded. His steps were firm as he stormed ahead with purpose, and keeping up with him became a challenge. He said no more as he walked, and Catrin suspected he was too angry to be civil. He so closely resembled a charging bear that it almost frightened her, but she could not blame him. If what she had been taught about the statues were true, then the Zjhon were essentially condemning themselves.
"Do you think there is any way to convince the Zjhon the statue is deadly?" Catrin asked.
"Hmm. There is always the possibility, but I think it highly unlikely one could accomplish it in time. The energy shed by Istra does not pass through rock and soil freely, but some does penetrate, and it's possible the statues will detonate during this pass even if they remain buried. Exposed, they are an immediate threat and could discharge at any moment."
Catrin could find no words to respond. She struggled to find some solution, anything that would prevent massive loss of life, but she doubted they would ever be able to get close to the statue . . . unless they were in shackles.
The rustling of leaves beneath their feet was the only sound. Some foliage still clung to the trees, but the forest floor was thick with them, and silent movement was nearly impossible. Ahead of them materialized a tree that was larger than most and bore a roughly triangular opening in its trunk. Over the opening hung several skins that had been stitched together, and Barabas pulled them aside.
"Welcome to my abode."
"Beautiful," Catrin said. "It's amazing you found such a tree."
"Amazing? Certainly not. I asked the forest for shelter, and it provided for me--just as it should be," Barabas replied, and her confused look seemed to surprise him. "When I need meat, I ask the herd, and a sacrifice presents itself. If I have need of fire, then the forest provides me wood. Whatever I need of nature, I have but to ask. Too many have forgotten this. They just take what they want from the land without any thought or respect, and they strip her of wealth that cannot be replaced. Surely you remember this at least."
"I'm sorry, Barabas. I've much to learn," she said, and he sighed heavily.
"Truly, heart of the land, you've chosen a trying time to embrace ignorance."
Chapter 17
Each of us is uniquely qualified for some task. We have but to find it.
--unknown philosopher
Inherited Danger Page 47