Dorian smiled at this. ‘No, I don’t think it would. Go ahead. I’ll be with you soon.’
Donalt nodded and moved off quickly and silently.
Dorian started again, carefully at first and then building up a rhythm with his good leg and the staff. He was genuinely concerned at the signs he had seen. Whatever the creatures were that had crossed this way, their path, well worn, led directly towards the snowline which had come into view. Felicity was leading them towards it. Towards whatever was out there.
‘Does she know?’ The thought was unavoidable. She had talked about her prophecy seeing them go through a Gate.
‘Everyone has to go through at once.’
She had said that. But how many was everyone? What if she actually meant what was left of the party? What if she was only referring to herself?
‘She’s more dangerous than I could have thought possible.’ Dorian thought, shaking his head and feeling sick in his stomach.
He had been utterly blind to it all. Swept along buy his own misguided sense of chivalry and… yes, he was quite taken with her beauty. He tried to convince himself that as they had all been taken in, except perhaps the Wizard, and that he was no more to
blame than they were. But this was nonsense, he simply couldn’t accept it. He had set this in motion. The men he had killed, there was no doubt they were villains, murderers all of them, but the same could be said of many mercenaries. If you were sending a group of people to capture someone very dangerous what would you send?
A group of nice people with their prey’s best interests at heart? Hardly likely.
It was getting dark. They had to stop and when they stopped he would sleep like the dead. The amount of Bazzle he had taken almost guaranteed an entire evening would be lost. The only plus was that the others would most likely make camp too.
Three snaps sounded. Donalt was producing the ‘heads-up’ noise. Dorian hadn’t needed it. Donalt’s trail, well covered as it was, the Rogue certainly had skills, had been visible to him for the whole journey.
‘Hai, Ranger.’ Donalt called. ‘I have a spot for us.’
Dorian moved to the Rogues location with as much speed as he could safely manage. Donalt had chosen well. A narrow line of water which accumulated in the higher rocks bubbled down among them and formed a modest stream headed to the west. This would provide flask refills and also cover any scent. The rocks about the place were large and offered a shallow recess in which to make a bed with some slight protection from the elements.
‘You can’t stay awake all night Donalt.’ Dorian said. ‘And I can’t offer a watch. I’ll be completely gone.’
He indicated Spyra, who was sniffing at a clump of weeds hanging over the side of the little stream. ‘but he will wake you if there is danger. Rely on it.’
‘Ok.’ Donalt said, nodding, ‘But I’m a light sleeper. I can hear a frog fart while I’m dozing mate. Don’t you worry.’
This was a lie. Donalt slept like a baby and had to be kicked to be roused. He said it because it was expected of Rogues to be alert at all times.
‘Right, that’s good.’ Dorian then pointed to the sky. ‘Scout will be up there, or around at least. Another good clarion call should it be required.’
‘Honestly fella.’ Donalt winked. ‘When I rest, I’m like a trap waiting to be sprung. I can’t tell you how many times some poor bloke has whipped back my bedsheet only to find a pillow plumped up under it and then had a dirk pressed against his throat.’[7]
‘It’s good to hear. Very good…’ Dorian yawned. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You better get your head down. Before you drop.’ Donalt said. ‘I’d take a draught of water if I were you, before you go out.’
‘Aye.’ Dorian said, nodding.
Words were getting hard to bring to mind. His eyelids were heavy. He dropped his pack to the floor and went to the stream, crouching down to take a few handfuls of it to his mouth. Despite it being icy cold as it washed down his throat it didn’t reduce his fatigue. Satisfied he had imbibed enough he crawled into a space between the rocks and was unconscious before he knew it.
Donalt observed the Ranger for a few moments. The Blink-Dog sniffed at its friend, then climbed on top of him and curled up on his chest, offering the Ranger its warm body and thick fur as protection
Donalt wished he had one of these things too. It was fucking cold.
‘Bet that things proper cozy.’ He thought.
He was tired as well. Not like Dorian. He was drug tired. Donalt knew that if the Ranger caught fire he still wouldn’t wake up until the Bazzle was out of his system.
He would definitely wake up if he was on fire. Eventually. He pulled a blanket out of his backpack. It was made of Yak wool and was large and very thick, but when retrieved from its pouch
it was only the size of a handkerchief. This was because it was a magically imbued blanket. The product of a quest. Swag.
He hadn’t obtained it on his own adventures though. He had never been that lucky. Instead he had paid a lot of gold to get this lovely piece of kit and this was exactly the kind of thing that drove people to quests. The acquisition of incredible magical items, gold, great fortune and not to be underestimated, bragging rights.
He breathed on the blanket and whispered its secret name. All magically imbued items had a secret name. To determine an item’s secret name you had to take it to an Occultist and they would then do their thing. One of the Occultists special abilities is the power of Research. They would commune with Demons, study eldritch tomes and where required, gain knowledge from Necromancers, Mystics, Alchemists and finally, Retailers. After much distilling of information and the exchange of coins and/or favours the item would be identified. It was then given a name and entered in the Grand Book of Magical Items. There was no escaping this. Occultists took their cataloguing of all things magical very seriously.
The blanket suddenly expanded into a full size, warm and very itchy rectangle of woven yak hair.
While his blanket was cool what Donalt really wanted was a magical dagger. Something with skulls and shit on it. People were terrified of that kind of thing. With a magical dagger with skulls on the pommel you didn’t even have to job anyone. They just saw it and handed over their valuables.
‘Just hand over their valuables.’ Donalt said, and smiled, not realising he had already fallen asleep.
***
‘We need to make camp before we reach the snowline.’ Daisy said to Felicity as the coldness of the air around them intensified. ‘It’s getting dark and we will need our strength and wits when we hit the snow.’
‘Agreed.’ Felicity said. ‘No fire though. Trolls will detect it from miles away.’
‘Valeran might be able to come up with something.’ Daisy replied.
She had witnessed Clerics producing Divine Fire, which burned with an intense radiance but produced no smoke. Daisy turned to walk back to the others but stopped and looked back to Felicity, her expression one of deep concern. ‘Don’t you think it’s odd that Donalt and Dorian haven’t caught up with us.’
‘Not really.’ Felicity said. ‘Who knows how far they have gone? If the route ahead is clear they may even be at the Gate.’
‘You think that Donalt would leave Andreton to his own devices?’
‘He hasn’t left him on his own. He’s with us.’ Felicity said, fiercely.
Daisy eyed her carefully. This girl was filled with mystery. She was sharp, strong and certainly had a temper. It was obvious to Daisy that the Sorceress was working hard to keep the more volatile aspects of her nature under wraps. She was serious about trying to get them to the Gate though, that seemed to be genuine. She hadn’t run from the Troll. She had attempted to defeat it. This at least showed her willingness to do her part in keeping them alive.
‘She’s mischief.’
The thought wouldn’t shake. It was all too convenient. Too much had gone her way. The drawing together of the group and now the apparent abandonment of Don
alt and Dorian, it all seemed to be working to her advantage. Only Corbett had seriously questioned her, and she had made him look like a fool. Of course, he didn’t help himself with his constant moaning.
‘And there we have it. The others who might question her motives are no longer around.’ She thought, and then boosted that thought, ‘except for me.’
Maybe the Sorceress couldn’t afford to lose another member? Maybe Felicity needed her muscle, to protect her and the Cleric.
‘Yes, there’s no way she’s letting the old man out of her sight. She’s going nowhere without a healer.’
Something was going to happen. She could feel it. And Felicity knew what that something was. Daisy was prepared to bet her swords on this.
‘Beyond the snowline, deep into that freezing wasteland something awful is going to try and stop us getting to the Gate.’
This was foreboding. It had to be. She had heard tales of how people could sense something potentially life changing coming their way and that there were signs both in themselves and in the world around them that warned of it.
‘But what can I do?’ She looked at the others. ‘I can’t leave Valeran. He would be lost in minutes. The same probably goes for Andreton and his cow. Doesn’t matter how strong you are if you can only walk in circles. Perhaps it’s time to make peace with the Wizard.’
She doubted that Corbett had any concerns other than his own skin. Wizards could teleport vast distances she had heard, but apparently not in this world. Maybe if he was under sufficient duress, in Corbett’s case that might be stubbing his toe, he could use that skill. Then he would be gone. Safely transported to… wherever Wizards went. ‘Bugger the rest of us.’
Valeran approached her.
‘Hai Daisy. Its bloody freezing. Can we really not make a fire?’ He asked as he clapped his hands and rubbed them together.
‘I’m afraid not. Trolls will see it or smell it and we’ll be up to our necks in them. One was bad enough.’
‘Yes.’ Valeran agreed, reluctantly. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘Can’t you do something? Uhm, Divine Fire is it?’
‘What?’ Valeran said, frowning. He thought for a moment and then raised his eyebrows, ‘Ohh, that. Ha. No, I’m afraid not. That’s absolute poppycock.’
‘Poppy…?’ Daisy said.
‘Poppycock. Rubbish, nonsense.’ Valeran said, flicking his hand dismissively. ‘If you ever see a Cleric wielding fire, it’s just that, fire. Probably has a few special effects on it, but nothing amazingly Godly.’
‘But I thought Clerics wielded a holy light.’ Daisy said, cautiously.
‘Well, light yes. Fire, not so much. Divine Fire comes directly from the Gods. Very powerful, you rarely get granted it and its them that deliver it. If I channelled Divine Fire I’d be burned to a charred husk in a heartbeat. It’s a bit of a premium thing, you know?’
‘I see.’ Daisy said, disappointed.
She thought for a moment then licked her lips to moisten the idea that was waiting to escape from them.
‘So, your thing is light magic, right?’
‘I suppose so, basically. There’s a lot of lights involved certainly.’ Valeran said.
‘And the Sorceress, Felicity, she does the dark stuff.’
‘Uhm…’ Valeran said, not wanting to speak rudely of the girl. ‘No. Well in a literal sense I suppose yes. She deals in dark and shadow magic. Things that work best at night and that cloud the mind rather than… illuminate it. I would say that’s at least close to the mark.’
‘Your protective bubble. It blocks our scent I believe?’ Daisy said, she was confident that this was true despite being wrong-footed on the Divine Fire.
‘Yes. And sound too. You can’t hear a bloody thing while its around you, but then neither can anything outside. Quite handy.’
‘And isn’t it right that Sorcery can create a darkness from which no light can escape?’
‘Yes. Very annoying.’
‘So, what if we combine the two? What if we use the defensive bubble and cast a cloud of darkness around it? We could have a fire!’
‘Oh.’ Valeran looked thoughtful, then produced a positive expression. ‘That sounds like a good idea. Yes. That would work I think.’ Valeran raised a hand, ‘Let me… let me go and pray to Boldoff, he’s my main God and he always feels a bit special if I put questions like this to him.’
Daisy smiled. Pleased that the old man appeared upbeat about it.
‘I’ll talk to Felicity.’ She said, and then under her breath added, ‘And see if the slimy lying cow can stop lying for just a couple of minutes.’
‘Sorry?’ Valeran said, as he was turning to leave.
‘I said I’ll speak to Felicity.’
‘Oh yes. Splendid. You do that.’
Valeran wandered over to a spot where he could kneel. The light was fading fast and he would need to really turn on the charm with Boldoff. He wondered if he should have told Daisy that Felicity was standing behind her.
A short while later Valeran and Felicity cast their spells. Unsure as to how his Gods would take the whole ‘light and dark’ thing the Cleric decided not to advise the Gods what he was doing with it, other than it being ‘charitable work’.
They all warmed themselves. Even Andreton came to the fire and allowed the pleasant heat to drift over him. The fire made by the Cleric was very beautiful, white and yellow flames flickered lazily from it. Magical fires were wonderful when not burning houses or people.
Daisy saw that Felicity appeared anxious, she was keen to get moving again and after everyone had heated their footwear, and the Cleric, after a long prayer session cast his warming blessing once again. Despite the Sorceress’s obvious desire to get back to the trek Daisy could also sense a bit of pride that she had helped to make life a little more comfortable.
‘She’s a strange one alright.’ Daisy thought. ‘So pretty, so talented and confident, yet so distant.’
She wondered if Felicity might change her demeanour once they had completed her goal. ‘After all, she believes she is saving the world, who wouldn’t be tense?’
Once Valeran extinguished his fire of light Daisy organised the line. Felicity nodded, snapped her fingers and her cloud of obfuscating darkness vanished. No Trolls or other creatures were in sight. It had been a good idea.
***
Donalt woke with a start but managed to keep quiet. There was a noise. No, there were two noises. Both similar yet entirely different. One was a rumble. The sound of the earth being beaten by a hundred or more feet. The other was a growl, deep and throbbing and very unnerving.
The growl belonged to Spyra, the little Blink-Dog lay on Dorian’s chest, staring out towards where the noise was coming from. Its eyes were wide and intense.
‘Shit.’ Donalt hissed, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but dawn was already well on its way to morning. Dorian was still flat out. Satisfied at least that the growling wasn’t meant for him he looked out beyond the tiny recess of the boulders but couldn’t see any sign of movement. Whatever was travelling close by was moving quickly and in number. He checked his gear was secured and moved out towards the sound with all the stealth he could muster. He didn’t have to travel far.
As they had travelled towards where they should have rendezvoused with the group the land had slowly risen and moving through a chasm, where a vast plate of rock had fractured, Donalt saw that they were not far from a cliff. Cautiously, he eased along the path that cut through it and came to its edge. He peered over and looked down. The source of the rumbling noise was below.
‘Ah, fuck me.’ He whispered. ‘That is not good.’
Dorian woke with a start and Spyra swished around in an instant to face him.
‘Hey Spyra.’ Dorian said. He smiled at his little companion but grew concerned when he saw the dark look in the Blink Dog’s eyes.
He sat up and Spyra slinked off him, moving to the e
dge of the shelter. Looking about Dorian saw that Donalt was not around and the Rogue’s pack was gone. He grimaced, a little
ashamed that his first thought was Donalt had fled, just left him behind, but his belief that there was more
good in most people than bad quickly took control and convinced him to take a second look.
The Rogue’s blanket was still where he had set his rest area. He wouldn’t have left such a valuable item behind, and he then saw that a flask of water was at his side. It was full. Donalt had clearly left it so that a fresh drink was waiting for him when he woke. Thoughtful for someone who had simply absconded.
‘Where’d he go Spyra?’
The Blink Dog looked back at the mention of his name then returned to a vigilant stare outward.
‘Ok. I guess he’s out there, somewhere.’
Dorian gulped down a long drink of the water Donalt had left, then took a deep breath, and attempted to move. The pain was excruciating. He knew it would be, at least at first. He rested again and allowed his body to prepare for a second attempt. He tried again. The pain was no less raw and severe, but he was able to move through it.
‘By the Gods.’ He said through gritted teeth and shuffled out from the rocks and into the morning light.
The throbbing ache through his leg told him that he wasn’t going to be able to move without taking more of the Bazzle. This concerned him. He had a strong constitution and a tolerance for poisons that would quickly subdue a less resistant man, but frequent and large doses of Bazzle could lead to problems. There was an addictive quality to the drug that was hard to shake once it caught a hold but if he didn’t imbibe the potion for at least
another day they would lose valuable time. Catching up with party was going to be difficult, even with them taking a route that should intercept them.
‘No choice Dorian.’ He thought as he took out the Bazzle from his pouch and prepared a new supply of the drug.
As he did this Spyra stiffened and a low growl began to issue from him. Dorian reached for his staff and his fingers found the catch Donalt had fashioned to release the blade at the bottom of it.
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