He headed across the walled-in, snow-covered glade where they had left the horses. In the shadows of the rocks, Rhoa spotted the carcasses, the snow stained with blood. Goblin tracks were everywhere, imprecise indentations appearing older than a day.
More snow must have fallen last night.
They circled the small pool of water and headed toward the entrance. The log that had been used to pen in the horses was broken, the pieces tossed aside. Hadnoddon ignored it as he led the party through the narrow gap. When they emerged, Rhoa stared at her surroundings in wonder.
The mountain was covered in snow, but the trees in the forest below, which extended to the horizon, were coated in a layer of ice, the twisting, bare branches glistening like diamonds. Here and there, clusters of green pines were a stark contrast amid the frosty leaf trees. All was still, as if the entire world had frozen in place.
Movement at the edge of the forest drew her attention. In the shadows of the trees, she saw what appeared to be large animals.
She pointed. “What’s that down there?”
“That is our transportation.”
Hadnoddon began climbing down the hillside, his soldiers trailing while the others looked at each other.
“I have met Frostborn before, but never got the chance to ride with one.” Salvon grinned as he stared toward the trees.
“Frostborn?” Jace asked.
Brogan grunted. “Savages.”
Salvon turned to him. “Oh, come now. Yes, they live differently than you and refuse to recognize your wizard lord as their ruler, but they are hardly savages.”
The big man grimaced. “Godless. That’s what they are.”
The storyteller arched a brow. “You may be surprised.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means, my large friend, there are more deities than the eight gods we humans worship.” He gestured toward Rawk and Algoron. “Just ask our two Maker friends.”
Salvon began climbing down the hill. Jace, Adyn, and Narine followed.
Brogan looked at Blythe. “Frostborn. Did you ever think you would travel with one?”
“Can’t say I expected it, but I have always been curious.”
His scowl deepened. “You are as bad as him.”
She stepped closer and cinched his coat together at the neck. “Try to keep an open mind. And remember, don’t do anything rash and get yourself killed, or I will be quite cross with you.”
His scowl remained for a moment before the big man chuckled. “I certainly wouldn’t want you upset with me, even if I was dead. I fear you might track me down in the afterlife just to chastise me.”
Blythe patted his cheek, smiling. “Now you are showing good sense.”
The pair turned and began their descent.
Something has happened between those two, Rhoa thought.
She turned toward Rawk and caught him watching her. At least she suspected he was watching, but she couldn’t see his eyes through the tinted lenses. With Jace and Narine always together and now Brogan and Blythe, she felt a longing for something beyond friendship.
What does Rawk think of me? What is going on in his head? In his heart? Is it even possible for a Maker to be with a human?
With danger around every corner, she feared one of them might die before she learned the answers.
Sighing inwardly, she said to the two dwarfs, “Come along, boys. Let’s go see what these Frostborn are all about.”
Following the winding trail, a series of switchbacks weaving a path down the snow-covered mountainside, they made their descent. There were spots where the drifts reached Rhoa’s waist, and she was thankful to be among the last to make the journey, those in the front having forged a path for everyone else. The result of their impediment allowed her to catch up to Hadnoddon and his soldiers before they were halfway down.
As the slope leveled, they emerged from the pines and crossed the open field at the foot of the mountain. Squinting at the bright sunlight, Rhoa was able to catch glimpses of pale gray shapes moving among the frozen trees. When she entered the woods, the blinding sun obscured by frost-covered tree limbs, she caught her first sight of what waited. A gasp of chilled air filled her lungs.
Dozens of dogs, each standing five feet tall and three times her own weight, stood there. The dogs had long, gray hair and keen eyes, each appearing powerfully built. They were attached to wagons with metal rails in place of wheels, six dogs per wagon. Men with shaggy, white beards and pale faces, each covered in gray-and-white furs, stood among the animals. As Rhoa drew closer to the first of the men, she gasped again. His irises were white.
“Greetings. I am Captain Hadnoddon,” the dwarf announced. “As agreed long ago, we seek passage to lands beyond. With this service, your debt will be forgiven.”
The nearest man approached Hadnoddon. He stood just over six feet tall and appeared brawny beneath his bulky garb. “Well met, Captain. I am Jeorgan-Ji, son of Chief Haldam-Ji of the Frostborn. Per an agreement signed by my grandfather’s grandfather, we have come on the day requested.” The man frowned. “Wonder fills my eyes at your arrival. To select this date one hundred years in advance is a true marvel and proves the legendary abilities of the seers.”
“It seems they got something right,” Jace said. “Too bad they can’t tell us what happens next.”
Hadnoddon frowned at the thief. “You should show the seers respect. The fate of the world rests upon their shoulders.”
Jace snorted. “Funny. I thought the fate of the world was our problem.”
“But you would not know what to do if not for the guidance of the sisters.”
“I figured life out fine on my own up until now. I’m sure I would have been fine without you people kidnapping me and locking me in your temple for two weeks.”
The dwarf shook his head and turned away. “Split up, Guardians. Six of you will head east, led by Nordawkon. Three others shall head north with me. The rest of you must return to Kelmar. Gather the gear and load up the sleighs.”
“Sleighs?” Narine asked.
“Yes.” Brogan pointed toward the odd wagons. “Those are sleighs. We Pallanese also use them in winter. In snow, they are far more effective than wagons.”
The dwarfs began loading the sleighs with the gear they had carried from Kelmar. Even with the gear, the sleighs were large enough to hold four people. Rhoa wondered how much weight the big dogs could tow.
When a hand gripped her shoulder, she turned toward Salvon, the sadness in his eyes instantly causing her worry.
“It is time to say goodbye, Rhoa.”
“You are leaving?”
“While I would happily remain with you and am loathe to miss the chance to meet Cultivators, I have things to attend to in the north.”
Salvon was the closest thing she had to family, especially since leaving the menagerie. The thought of him leaving tore at the recent mend to her heart, breaking off a cold and lonely piece. She struggled to hold the tears at bay, losing the fight, her chin trembling.
“Will I see you again?”
The old storyteller wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Gods willing. However, I will not make promises. Not when so many wheels spin and we have no idea how things will align when they stop.
“Before you leave, I have something for you.”
He slung his lute off his shoulder, flipped it over, and began feeling the bottom while Rhoa watched curiously. A click sounded, a section of the lute coming free to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside was a small black book. Salvon held it toward Rhoa.
“I wish you to have this.”
“What is it?” She accepted the small book and noticed ribbon tails marking a number of the pages.
“In it, you will find sections from prophecies written many years ago.”
“You stole it from the seers?” she whisper-shouted.
A smile crossed his face. “You cannot steal the future, Rhoa, no more than you can steal the past. I have had this in my possession for
many years, before you were even born. It is now yours. I believe you will find it insightful.
“Now, I must go. Farewell, Rhoa.”
Unable to say anything in response, she wrapped her arms about him, turning her head away as the tears flowed.
He patted her back while hugging her and whispered, “You are stronger than you believe. Keep faith in yourself and remain steadfast to your friends. You do that, and things will turn out as they should.”
Sniffling, she said, “You do not know that. Anything could happen.”
“Ahh. Not anything. There are not so many branches from the path we have carved. If things go well, I will see you again. That is the best I can promise.”
Even though his words held little meaning to her, she accepted them and stepped away to dry her eyes. She then realized her companions had witnessed the entire exchange. Her cheeks flushed as she backed away until striking something solid. Turning, she discovered it was Rawk’s arm.
He leaned close. “I am with you Rhoa. Always.”
His kind words made her smile. She wiped away the tears. “Thank you, Rawk.”
Jace walked up to her and gave her a sidelong glance, a smirk on his lips. “You were a real pain in the backside when we first met, and I thought I would be happy to be rid of you. Turns out, I am happy I saved your life, even if it was more luck than skill.”
Her brows arched. “I’m not sure what luck you refer to, but you risking yourself and arriving when you did saved me. In fact, I will admit, I was wrong about you. I had you pegged as an arrogant, selfish lowlife who was nothing but trouble. It turns out you have a loyal, heroic side to you that is almost endearing.”
“Shh.” He glanced around. “Don’t say stuff like that. I don’t want anyone to believe they can take advantage of me.”
Rhoa laughed. “Sorry, but you have been around us too long. We can see through your act and know you aren’t half the scoundrel you pretend to be.”
“You take that back,” he said heatedly, unable to restrain a smile. “I’ll miss you, Rhoa.”
She shook her head and hugged him. Over his shoulder, she caught Narine watching, the woman’s brow arched. Releasing Jace, she approached the princess and Adyn, who stood by her side.
“I guess this is goodbye,” Rhoa said.
“Yes.” Narine tilted her head. “What did Jace say to you?”
“Oh, you know. Typical Jace stuff. Talking about himself and how I will miss his clever quips and roguish charm.”
Adyn laughed. “That does sound like him.”
Narine also chuckled and shook her head. “I would have never thought I would end up with someone like Jace.”
Rhoa arched a brow. “End up?” Her eyes narrowed, leaning close and lowering her voice. “Do you love him?”
Her jaw dropping open, Narine glanced at Adyn, then Jace, who talked to Rawk and Algoron. She smoothed her coat and cleared her throat. “Well, I…um… It just happened so fast.”
With a burst, Rhoa embraced Narine. “I am so happy for you.”
Narine hugged her back. “I will miss you.”
Adyn wrapped her arms about both of them. “I will miss our little womanly conversations, Rhoa. Now I am the only one who can talk sense into her if Jace leads her astray.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Narine said in a defensive tone.
Rhoa laughed as she stepped back, the two women laughing with her. This was what she would miss the most. Laughter. With Rawk, Algoron, Brogan, and Blythe, the laughter would be far less common, the three most likely to cause it heading toward another destination.
When she turned again, she caught Jace clasping forearms with Brogan, the bigger man with a hand on the thief’s shoulder. The two men parted, each heading toward a different cluster of sleighs. Suddenly, Rhoa stood alone. With a sigh, she followed Blythe, Brogan, Rawk, and Algoron.
When she drew closer to the sleighs, she realized the dogs were even larger than she first thought. They appeared similar to rock wolves but with longer hair and were three times the size. Like her companions, she circled around the dogs, keeping her distance. As Rhoa approached the sleigh, she came upon a Frostborn checking the reins. The man stood a half-head taller than her, his hair and eyes white. He glanced at her, his pale irises staring right through her.
“My name is Ghibli-Kai. I will be your driver.”
“I am Rhoa.” She gestured toward the two dwarfs beside her. “This is Rawk and Algoron.”
“Climb on. We are ready to depart. As soon as my brother blows the horn, we ride.”
The man gestured toward the middle row of seats, wide enough for three. The rear seat was loaded with packs, and Rhoa assumed she was to place her own among them. The front seat was narrow, only able to fit the driver.
After placing her pack along with the others, Rhoa climbed in. “Excuse me, but are those dogs?” She pointed toward the six towering hounds, each wearing a harness. “And are they safe?”
“Those are ice wolves, cousins to the rock wolves in the north. They are harmless, unless you allow your fear to overwhelm you. They are attracted to fear, you see. It makes them hungry.”
Hungry? Rhoa thought. “What do they eat?”
The man climbed into the front seat, reins in hand as he spoke over his shoulder. “Pretty much anything. Plants. Rodents. Deer. Bears.” He shrugged. “Anything.”
People?
Rhoa glanced toward Rawk, his fingers gripping the seat, his knuckles white. “Ease your fears, Rawk. You heard him. We don’t need to find out if those big dogs eat dwarfs.”
Rawk nodded but didn’t respond.
From the edge of the clearing, a horn blew. The other three sleighs began to move, each towed by a team of gigantic wolves. Gaining momentum, the sleighs were soon obscured by trees, as were Narine, Adyn, Jace, and Salvon.
Another horn blew. Ghibli-Kai snapped the reins, and the sleigh lurched forward. A series of lurches followed, the sleigh gaining momentum with each surge until they sped across the snow. A sleigh carrying Brogan, Blythe, and a dwarf rode ahead of them. Another sleigh occupied by three Guardians rode behind.
Rhoa looked up into the clear blue sky, her gaze settling on the moon, partially covering the sun. The Darkening had extended this far south, and soon, the tide would reverse, the eclipses moving north as the seasons approached another Lunartide. With all the chaos and trouble in the world, she wondered if she would survive to see that day. Worse, she worried the entire world might end before then, consumed by the rise of the Dark Lord.
What the future held, she had no idea, but it felt as if she and her companions headed toward something monumental.
Epilogue
The sun blazed down upon Ki-Atti’s prone, unprotected body. Delirious and wracked with fever, he felt overwhelmingly hot one moment, freezing and huddling into a ball the next. His leg ached, the pain waking him each time he drifted to sleep. He would die soon, either from the festering wound, the monsters that stalked the night, or from any number of other dangers in the jungle.
He rolled over, his hand flopping into the water and stirring him from the depths of his delirium. Razoreth, a voice said in the back of his mind, warning him of the savage fish patrolling the river. With immense effort, he pulled his hand from the water and dropped it back onto the logs of his raft.
The raft was small, nothing more than a dozen logs tied together with vines. It had taken him three days of hacking at the fallen trees with his scimitar and another full day to assemble it, but once finished, it had provided him a means of travel, much preferred to the excruciating, hobbling journey to the river.
From time to time, Ki-Atti heard people talking. He cracked his eyes open in the hopes of rescue. Each and every time, he would discover himself alone and adrift on the murky river. At night, he’d sometimes hear the hooting of goblins or the stomping of trolls. None found him. The darkspawn despised water and would avoid him, unless he ran ashore.
From somewhere, he again heard call
s, voices jabbering something unintelligible. Exhausted and nearing death’s door, he didn’t even attempt to open his eyes. It is ironic to have survived the assault on my post, the only soldier who did, only to die of infection days later. How many days had passed? He was unsure. They had begun to blend together long ago.
His raft struck something, jostling him and nearly sending him over the edge. Hands gripped his arms, his legs. He cried out in pain, his wounded leg feeling as if it were being torn off.
Opening his eyes, he blinked and tried to focus through the blur. Someone stood over him. Two men, both dark-skinned Kyranni.
“You think he is a deserter?” one man asked.
“Could be. He is wearing Murguard leathers.”
“I don’t want nothing to do with a deserter.”
“Look at him. He is in bad shape. If we don’t bring him back, he won’t last long.”
“Serves him right. They execute deserters, so he will die soon anyway.”
“What if he ain’t a deserter? What if he’s just a soldier who needs help?”
The other man scoffed. “Them Murguard have healers. If he was no deserter, he would have been healed and back on duty.”
“Still, I say we take him to the garrison, turn him over to the authorities, and let them decide.”
The other man sighed. “Just as well. The fish ain’t biting today anyhow.”
Ki-Atti slipped into troubled sleep, haunted by wave after wave of monsters, blood, and death.
“He wakes,” a female voice said. “Get Captain Khan.”
Ki-Atti blinked at the blurriness, willing his eyes to focus, seeing he lay in a small room built of stone. An old, gray-haired Kyranni woman sat beside him. He lifted his head from the pillow and looked down at his body. His throat constricted when he saw his leg ending in a stump at mid-thigh, the end of which was wrapped in a bandage.
“The infection was too great,” she said in a scratchy voice. “It would have killed you had we not removed it. I am sorry.”
Fate of Wizardoms Boxed Set Page 90