by M. L. Forman
“I was lucky,” Alex admitted.
“So you always say, though I think there is more to it than that,” said Bregnest.
The others were all relieved that Alex had managed to answer the sphinx. Alex, however, wasn’t sure if he was happy or not. The puzzle of how he might destroy the lower library had returned to his mind again, and he really had no idea how he could do it.
“We still have a long march ahead of us,” Sindar commented.
Looking at the path ahead of them, Alex could see that it would be both long and difficult. The path from the first gate started climbing the Mountains of the Moon, winding up the mountainside like some monstrous snake, vanishing from sight high above them.
“It looks narrow in spots,” Sindar continued. “Almost too narrow.”
“Let’s get moving,” said Bregnest. “We don’t know how far it is to the second gate, and time is running out.”
The company began walking once more. The road was fairly wide at the bottom of the mountains, but it became more and more narrow the farther they went. Before long, Alex and his friends were forced to walk in a single file, bent with the effort of climbing. In places they had to use their hands as well as their feet to scramble up the mountainside. Now and then one of them would slip a few feet back down the path before catching themselves.
As darkness was gathering around them, they came to a wide spot that opened suddenly on the side of the mountain. Bregnest signaled them to stop, but it was several minutes before he had breath enough to speak.
“A hard road,” Bregnest finally managed to say, still breathing heavily.
None of the others spoke for some time, winded and exhausted. Alex noticed that the air felt much colder here on the mountain, colder even than it had been on the frozen waste.
“I would not want to be on this road when the snows come,” Halfdan commented.
“This path would be impossible in winter,” said Val. “I only hope we are well off it before the snows arrive.”
“If we have not found the Horn or reached the tower within seven days, we will go back,” said Bregnest in a bitter tone. “We must find the Horn and return it to Alusia, even if we are too late to prevent a war. And if we are caught on this path when winter comes, we may never return at all.”
“Going back would mean passing the sphinx again,” said Andy, sounding worried. “Next time it may not ask Alex to answer the riddle.”
“We have not reached that point yet,” said Bregnest. “We still have seven days before we must consider our options.”
“And if we must go back, at least we’ll have a long winter to prepare,” Halfdan added.
Alex didn’t comment. He conjured a cooking fire for Halfdan and sat thinking. His thoughts were not on going back or the coming winter, but on the second gate and the tower that lay beyond. He thought they would reach the second gate at least, but he didn’t know if they would pass the guardians that waited at it. They needed to stop a war, or at the very least, make it a short war. And if they managed to reach the tower, he would have to try to destroy the lower library. A shiver ran through him at the thought.
Alex put out his magical fire when Halfdan had finished cooking, and they had eaten in the gathering darkness without speaking. Now they were lying half awake, uncomfortable and unable to sleep, wondering how far they had to go and how hard the trail would be before they reached the second gate.
“You seem troubled, my friend,” said Sindar as he sat in the darkness beside Alex.
“Thinking too much again,” Alex said softly.
“Ah, the problem of the library. I will admit, it is a difficult problem.”
“There must be a way or Whalen wouldn’t have suggested that I destroy it.”
“To destroy is always easier than to create,” Sindar replied softly. “Though to destroy completely and forever . . . I do not know if that is possible.”
“How far away do you think the second gate is?” Alex asked.
“A day, maybe two. If it is much farther than that we will be going down the other side of this mountain.”
A day or two to reach the second gate, and then they would have to face the griffin guards that could read a man’s heart. Alex felt tired, but sleep would not come. He sat in the darkness, trying to clear his mind, but his thoughts continued to press in on him. Whalen had told him to look for simple solutions, but he couldn’t think of anything simple that would work.
When morning finally came, Alex’s body felt rested, but his mind was tired from all of his thinking. He was glad when they started climbing again because the hard work forced him to focus on nothing but the path in front of him.
If anything, the climb was harder than it had been the day before. They ate their midday meal at one of the few places they found where the path was wide and almost level, and then they rested for about an hour before continuing.
Late in the afternoon, just as Alex thought he couldn’t take another step without resting, the trail leveled out once more. There was rock on both sides of the path, and it was far easier to move forward. They continued for a short distance and came to an open space that looked like a crater. A cold wind was blowing, but there was no sign of the second gate.
“We seem to have reached the top,” said Bregnest after a few minute’s rest. “Perhaps tomorrow’s road will be less steep, and we will make better time.”
“And perhaps the path will start down again and this is only the first mountain we will have to climb,” said Val, sounding depressed.
“I do not think so,” Halfdan commented. “If the builders of this road wished us to climb a different mountain, there are easier ways to lead us to it.”
“It is likely that the builders of this road wished it to be hard,” said Sindar.
“Why?” Andy asked. “I imagine they had to use the road as well, didn’t they?”
“I do not know,” Sindar answered. “But it seems they had some purpose in mind when they built it. I would guess to keep away unwanted visitors.”
After resting for several minutes, Alex conjured a cooking fire for Halfdan. His mind felt clearer here with the cold wind blowing his hair, and his thoughts about the lower library did not trouble him as much as they had.
For the convenience of his friends, Alex conjured several small balls of light, which he sent floating around the cooking fire. His friends were all impressed by this feat of magic and watched the balls with great interest.
“Your abilities have grown since the last time we traveled together,” said Bregnest.
“They have,” Alex agreed.
“It is most impressive,” commented Sindar. “I have not seen this done before.”
Alex sat watching the balls of light, his mind far more relaxed than it had been for several days. Once Halfdan had finished cooking, Alex put out the blue-flamed cooking fire, but left the balls floating around the company.
“There is no heat or flame in them,” Andy observed.
“No,” said Alex. “They are called weir lights.”
“How long will they last?” Val questioned.
“As long as I want,” said Alex. “I’ve read that if you catch one in a jar, you can keep it forever. If the jar breaks, however, the light will try to escape.”
“Perhaps we should all get jars,” Halfdan suggested. “A light that doesn’t go out could be a useful tool.”
“Oh, they can go out,” said Alex. “But only by magic.”
“If they would escape from someone who kept them in a jar, why do they remain here now?” Bregnest questioned.
“Because I’m paying attention to them,” Alex replied. “If I left them alone without commanding them to stay or follow me, or if I went to sleep, they would simply float away.”
“Could you capture one in something other than a jar?” Halfdan asked in a thoughtful tone.
“I’ve read of some weir lights being trapped in crystals or gems, but that is much more difficult to do.”
“Ah, but such
a light inside a gem would make a fine treasure,” Halfdan said gleefully.
“Such a gem would be nice, but the lights are so much nicer floating on their own,” said Sindar.
They all finished eating and lay down on their blankets, watching the weir lights floating above them. Alex would occasionally change their colors just so Halfdan would chuckle. He was pleased that the spell had worked so well and that his friends found so much joy in the small balls of light. When Alex began to feel sleepy, he put out the weir lights. He felt relaxed, and even though he knew troubles lay ahead of him, tonight he didn’t care.
When daylight came the next morning, they were all feeling refreshed. Their moods had improved, and even Bregnest did not look troubled. They ate their breakfast and started forward with little talk.
The trail had rock on both sides of it, but in some places the rock was low enough they could look out across the lands below them. Alex noticed that Andy would always look away from the open spots, as if he did not wish to see how high they were.
“Are you all right?” Alex asked Andy in a low voice so the rest of the company wouldn’t hear.
“I don’t like high places,” said Andy, his voice a bit higher than normal. “They make me feel dizzy and confused.”
Alex nodded but didn’t say anything more. He had never known about Andy’s fear of heights, and now he felt a little sorry that he had asked.
They made good progress that day as the trail wound along the top of the mountains. There were no longer any steep spots to climb, only long, gentle ups and downs. As the sun began to sink in the west, they all began to feel restless. With each turn of their path, they hoped to see the second gate or the Tower of the Moon, but instead they saw only more of the trail. When the sun was almost gone, Alex began to wonder where they would be able to find a place to sleep.
Just then, the company emerged from the trail into a wide-open space.
“We are there,” said Bregnest suddenly.
The second gate looked nothing at all like the first gate. There was no fine building or high arch, only the open space in front of them and a long stairway leading to the Tower of the Moon.
“Where is the gate?” Halfdan asked.
“Where is the guardian?” Val questioned.
“Both are before you,” answered Sindar. “Look closely, just this side of the stairway, and you will see the gate and the guardians.”
Looking into the gathering darkness, they could see what Sindar meant. On either side of the path sat an enormous griffin. Their wings were held high over their heads, forming a strange-looking archway. The griffins were much larger than Alex had imagined they would be, and he knew that their sharp, eagle eyes had already seen the company.
“Impressive guardians,” Halfdan commented softly.
“And effective,” Sindar added. “They can see right through a person and know if they are good or evil, happy or sad. They see everything.”
“And how do we pass them?” Andy questioned.
“I imagine they will tell us what we need to do,” said Bregnest. “But I think before we approach, we should rest. We will attempt the second gate in the morning.”
Chapter Twelve
The Tower of the Moon
The company had a hard time trying to rest again that night. Their thoughts and eyes continued to wander toward the griffins, which were hidden in darkness. No one was hungry, but Halfdan prepared a simple meal just so he had something to do. They had reached the Tower of the Moon, and when the sun came up, they would have to pass before the griffins.
Alex knew the griffins would only stop them if they were evil. Evil, however, was not the right word. He had read about griffins and stories about people who had encountered them. Griffins didn’t see things simply as good or evil; they looked more at intentions, at a person’s conscience, at the reasons people had for doing what they did.
“It has been a long road,” Bregnest commented in the darkness. “I hope we find what we came looking for.”
“It must be here,” said Andy. “The sphinx said the prince did not return, and there’s no other path he could have taken.”
“The sphinx said that others had passed and did not return,” Sindar corrected. “We don’t know who those others might have been.”
“I agree with Andy,” said Halfdan. “Usel said the prince traveled this way, so the Horn must be here. I’ll feel better once we have it and are away from this place.”
“Do you doubt your ability to pass the griffins?” Val questioned.
“No,” said Halfdan. “But everyone may hide some evil inside of them, even from themselves.”
“And few of the mortal races know themselves as well as they think they do,” Sindar added.
“Is it different for elves?” Alex questioned.
“Yes and no,” answered Sindar in a quiet voice. “We know ourselves far better than mortals do, but even so, evil may hide where we least expect it.”
They fell silent for a time, each of them searching their own hearts and thoughts. Alex wondered if his growing pride in being a wizard might be considered evil. He wasn’t sure how the griffins would judge him, or what they might consider evil that he would not.
“It will do no good to worry,” said Sindar. “The griffins will judge as they see fit, and only another griffin would truly understand the judgment.”
“How will we proceed in the morning?” Andy questioned. “Will we stand before them as a group? Or one at a time?”
“One at a time,” Bregnest answered after a few moments of thought. “I believe we will all pass, but I think we should each stand alone before the griffins.”
“And if all do not pass?” Val asked.
“The judgment of the griffins is not the same as man’s,” Bregnest answered. “If any of this company fail to pass, none here will speak against them.”
They all became quiet once more, though Alex didn’t think any of his companions were sleeping. He was worried about getting past the griffins, but he was more worried about what waited for him at the tower. His mind burned with thoughts of the lower library, but he still didn’t have any answers about how to destroy it.
The wind picked up as the night went on, and it was getting colder. Alex thought about how long they’d been in Norsland. By his count, they were only just starting their fifth month. Andy had said there were at least five or six months of good traveling weather, so why had Usel warned them to start back so soon? Surely they had at least a month before winter would return. Faced with more questions than answers, Alex slowly fell into a light sleep.
A terrible, screaming cry snapped him awake. Alex jumped to his feet, his hand reaching for Moon Slayer at his side. He looked around to see where the cry had come from.
Everything was dark, but he could hear something large moving nearby. The griffins were awake in the darkness, and they sounded both angry and pained.
“Bregnest?” Alex called, looking around but seeing nothing in the darkness. “Sindar?”
There was no reply, only the angry sounds coming from the griffins.
Alex stood for a moment, unsure of what to do. Where were his companions? Why were they not answering his calls? His thoughts were numbed by the darkness, and fear was growing inside of him. He knew that he had to do something—anything—and fast.
With an effort of will, Alex conjured up a half dozen weir lights. As they floated gently around him, the fog in his mind began to clear and the darkness around him fled. He felt like a great weight was suddenly lifted from him.
Looking around, he saw that his friends were all still on the ground as though they had not heard the screaming pain of the griffins and were simply resting, waiting for dawn. Then he noticed that only four of his friends were there. Val was gone.
“Bregnest!” Alex shouted, bending over his friend and trying to shake him awake.
Bregnest didn’t answer. Alex tried to wake each of his friends in turn, but none of them would wake up. Whe
n he shook Sindar, the elf mumbled slightly, but he, too, seemed completely dazed.
Alex didn’t know what to do. He needed to help his friends, but he also needed to find Val. Where had he gone? And what had caused the griffins to cry out in such terrible pain and anger?
Simple solutions, he thought, remembering Whalen’s advice. He had to think of something fast and simple that would help his friends. Fire. That might help. Fire was the adventurer’s friend and ally.
Stepping away from his friends’ blankets, Alex conjured a blue-white fire. The heat from the flames pushed back the cold mountain air. As fast as he could, Alex moved his companions as close to the fire as he dared, still trying to wake them. Only Sindar spoke, but his voice was a faint whisper.