“You can't. Rose said this chasm is over fifty leagues long, with sheer cliffs rising into the mountains on either end. The only ways across are the bridges.”
“Don't say that word,” I gasped. Serida scrambled up my back and fell over my shoulders like a heavy, scaly scarf. Her claws dug into my chest and shoulders.
“What word?” Shan asked. “Chasm?”
“Bridge,” I whispered. The word caught in my throat. Horrible word for a horrible thing.
Shan pressed his palm against my thigh, just above my knee. “Listen, I know you're afraid of them unless they're tiny ones over shallow creeks, and that's why I waited for you. That's why I'm going to help you. It's safe. See, the others are waiting on the other side. They crossed safely. So will we.”
Nador giggled and tugged on my sleeve. “It's stone. It won't move. This isn't a rope bridge. It not going to buckle under our weight.”
“It might,” I said.
“Memories of fear and fear of memories. Child's verse, thrown from the bluffs. I remember this, a taunt for halflings afraid to climb. I feared being up high, but then I fell and didn't fear anymore.” Nador looked up at me and sang:
“Down, down, down,
Drowning in the depths of darkness
Fall, fall, fall,
Failure to fly means never be free
Gone, gone, gone,
Grasping and groveling, down we go.”
“That is not helpful, Nador,” Shan growled. He patted my leg. “Tessen, listen to me. Trust me. It won't take us more than a minute to cross. Close your eyes, focus on your breathing and only your breathing, and it will be over.”
“What if it breaks? What if it collapses and we go down with it?” I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could barely speak. So high, so far, and the stones come tumbling down. The others crossed safely, but it was only a matter of time before the structure failed. How long had it been there? The older it was, the more likely it would fail. There were stone fragments around the supports. It was already shattering.
“Tessen, what is my area of magic?” Shan's voice was gentle and familiar, but it was not capable of calming me, or of convincing my lungs to refill with air.
“Shadow. You're a warlock.”
“Tessen, I'm a Nightshadow warlock. I can teleport. I'm not good at it, in the sense that we'll likely end up somewhere strange and without our clothes, but I'm good enough that I can take others with me. If anything happens, if the bridge fails, I'll teleport us. We'll be lost and naked somewhere in the wilderness, but we'll be alive.”
“Teleport us now,” I begged, digging my fingernails into the scarred leather reins. “Just poof and take us across. Take us anywhere but here.”
“No. I can't risk it unless it means saving our lives. We're crossing the bridge.”
I tried to yank the reins, but Shan's gloved grip was stronger than my sweaty hands. “Go to hell.”
“I've already been there. I have the souvenir artwork to prove it.” Shan led Saragon toward the precipice.
“No!” I shrieked, but to no avail. Hoof beats transitioned from clomps on dirt to clicks on stone.
Below, below, far below a river raged through the rift. Down, down, down, down itself wasn't the problem. The bridge was the problem. Every step brought an increased probability that the span would collapse.
Serida whimpered in my ear. I wasn't sure if she was trying to console me or if our bond meant that my fear bled into her and she felt it as her own.
Nador's hands gripped my knees. “Listen, Tessen. You have been helping me remember to breathe when the memories overtake me. I'll help you now. Do you feel my back against your chest? See if you can match my breaths. I'll set the pace, so breathe with me.”
I hunched my shoulders and rested against her spine. Rise, fall, inhale, exhale. The rhythm of my frantic heart countered the cadence of her merely-accelerated one. I couldn't match her breathing pattern. It was too slow, too regular. All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut and continue to hyperventilate.
“Feel her breaths, Tessen. Focus on her breaths.” Shan's boots scuffed rough stone. We were arcing upward, still upward. We wouldn't be halfway until the slope turned down.
Down. Down, down, down, any moment we'd be falling down. We'd hear a great crack, and the stones would tumble down. There was no way Shan would be able to react fast enough to teleport us. A weight fell heavy on my shoulders, a hollow grumble shook my gut. The whipping wind cooled the sweat beading on my neck and hands. Cold. So cold, so empty, so many steps and one would bring catastrophe.
“Halfway,” Shan said. The rise turned to level for several steps, then sloped downward. Falling, falling, slowly falling. Only failure to fall would sustain life. “Feel Nador's breaths. Focus only on her movement. Her breathing is the only thing that matters, the only thing at all. Trust me, Tessen. Trust us.”
My lungs squeezed shut, refusing to allow in more than a tiny sip of air. How could she breathe so slowly? If I tried to match her, I'd suffocate and die. Would that be a gentler death than falling and being thrashed upon the deep, cold stone?
I needed to get off the bridge. I needed to go back. I tried to grab the reins again, but Nador slapped my hands away.
“No. We're almost there.”
“It's already been forever.” Tears escaped my clenched eyelids and landed in Nador's hair. Almost mean nothing when time was irrelevant. Collapse and death only needed a fraction of a moment to strike.
Hooves clicked on stone, clacked on stone, clomped on dirt. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. No more stones, only dirt. Only solid earth.
“You made it,” Shan said. He let go of the reins to squeeze my wrist. “We're across. You can open your eyes now.”
My eyelids fluttered open. My companions stared at me from beneath the boughs of crystalline trees. A strident noise escaped my throat as my lungs drew in a gulp of metallic-tasting air.
“You weren't kidding about that phobia,” Iefyr said. He was next to me, helping Nador off the horse.
“Been a problem as long as I can remember,” Shan said. He nodded toward Ragan. “He knows about it. How many times did you have to carry him across the Jade River bridges?”
“Every time we crossed into South Jadeshire,” Ragan replied. “The Serenity Footbridge was particularly bad. It swayed when there were more than a couple people on it.”
“Hate it. Hate that thing. Never again,” I mumbled. I wasn't sure if I was talking about the Serenity or the bridge we'd just crossed. Both bridges, definitely both bridges. All and every bridge, every bridge in the world.
“Anthora's going to be a problem,” Iefyr said.
“Didn't think you'd been there to know.” Ragan came to my side and placed his hand on the small of my back. “You're fine. Let me help you down.”
“I haven't,” Iefyr replied. “I've read enough to . . . oh, never mind. I probably shouldn't say more.”
“Nope, you shouldn't.”
I put my arm around Ragan's shoulder and let him ease me off Saragon. My heartbeat thudded in my ears and my palms and nape transitioned from sweaty to clammy. A shiver began in my shoulders and quickly spread throughout my body. My teeth chattered and my knees quaked so forcefully that they gave way and dropped me to the brittle, lavender-tinted grass.
“Whoa, whoa. You're okay.” Ragan sank to the ground and pulled me into a firm embrace. He was warm, but not warm enough to ease the shivering. “You're okay, you're safe. One breath in, one breath out, calm your nerves one breath at a time.”
“I can't . . . I can't figure out how not to be afraid of them,” I whispered, my voice a trembling mess. Serida nudged my elbow, but I couldn't summon enough control over my own limbs to reach back and pull her to me. “I've tried. I force myself across the little ones in Jadeshire, the little ones over shallow creeks, but the big ones, the high ones . . . I can't. My mind's a cowardly thing and I'm ashamed of it.”
Ragan's fingers wove their way through my hair and he ki
ssed my cheek. “Don't be ashamed. Big or small or strange, we all have things we fear. Don't tell anyone, but I'm afraid of turtles. Totally illogical bullshit fear, but my mind doesn't care. I see those things and my fear goes wild. That's why we ended up at the swamp. Saw that gods-damned turtle on the road and couldn't, just couldn't go that way. I'm afraid of other things, too, more rational things, like losing someone else I love. That almost happened back there on the steppe, and my heart races every time I remember seeing you like that.”
“Turtles, Ragan? Really?” Shan sat behind me and rested his hand between my shoulder blades. “I think I remember that. Our cousin Arteo had a pet tortoise that he brought over to show us and you bolted into the bedroom and didn't come out until Arteo and the tortoise were gone. I couldn't figure out why you ran from the kitchen so quickly, but now it makes sense.”
“Like I said, we've all got fears.” Ragan's hand untangled from my hair to rest on Shan's head. “I recall your fear of kites, Shannon.”
“We don't talk about that,” Shan huffed. He lifted his head and leaned away from me. “Hey, Marita? Can you grab a blanket? He's freezing.”
My breaths came easier now, but the shivering continued. Shan tucked a musty-smelling blanket around my shoulders, then resumed using my back as a pillow.
“No more gorges, no more bridges. I want to go home.” My words were clearer and less shaky now. My jaw relaxed as the chattering subsided. “I know I can't, but I'm irrational right now.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Ragan said.
“Hey, Ragan, we're going to cook up some lunch,” Iefyr said from somewhere behind me.
Ragan lifted one hand to wave at him. “Yeah, sure, go ahead.” His hand landed again on the nape of my neck. “I'll sit here with you as long as you need me to.”
“Me, too,” Shan said. “You're shaking less now. You'll be okay.”
Chapter 34
I was warm again by the time I picked at my meager lunch, but the other aftereffects of the panic lingered. I could barely keep my eyes open as a headache tightened tiny knots in my forehead and at the base of my skull. My ribs ached and every breath set my sternum on fire. I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and forget about bridges and gorges, but I couldn't. The Crystal Forest was not a haven, and it was nowhere to linger for longer than necessary. Despite its beauty, it was an inhospitable place that reeked of rust and brine, and it was devoid of animal life. Toppled white columns and short staircases to nowhere hid between the trees.
“This place reminds me of Aes,” Shan said. He rode with me on Sprite after deciding I wasn't in any condition to ride alone. He was right. I couldn't keep my eyes focused and my balance was just as disoriented as my foggy mind.
“What's Aes?” I asked. The word sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it.
“Safest place we found in the underground. Luminous violet mushrooms, some nearly as tall as the Citadel. Weird grass, weird water, inhabited by Hycinth, the non-monstrous version of Varaku. They helped us after Mom fell down a slope. Aes is where the dragon Erisda slept. It's where I stole the eggs.” Shan sputtered his lips and stared up at the chiming boughs. “Anyway, this forest is violet and ethereal in the same way Aes was. This place is dead though, only trees and grass like gossamer ghosts who haven't yet figured out they're no longer real. Have you noticed the ruins along the road? They're ancient, no more than fallen columns and crumbling foundations, but they show that this forest wasn't always so desolate. There was a city here once. Marble, alabaster, and granite. Echoes of magic still linger within these stones, but the voices are nearly silent. I think something horrible happened here. The dead rose as jeweled trees and their leaves are screaming chimes. They are only aware of the shadowed shimmer, and I don't think they know they're dead.”
“Ennulia,” I said. “I don't know what it means, but it was carved into a column near where we ate lunch. It was in a strange alphabet that the spectacles allowed me to read, but the word was meaningless so I assumed it was a name.”
Shan scratched the side of his head. “Ennulia? I think I've heard that word before. I can't figure out where right now. Iefyr likes history, maybe he knows.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, Iefyr? Does the word Ennulia sound familiar to you? Tes read it off a column.”
Iefyr drifted closer to us. The violet light made his red hair appear magenta. “Is that where we are? Yes, I've heard of it. Anyone has who has studied the Tempest Age. The Ennulia Uprising happened during the Midnight Wars. It was set apart from the main battles, but happened at the same time so when it's mentioned it's on the same pages.”
“What happened here?” Shan asked.
Iefyr cringed at the prismatic trees. He sipped his water and sighed. “Ennulia was an elven city, built by enslaved Fae. All Fae were slaves then, slaves created by the elves of the previous age. They needed size and strength to offset their own slight statures, so their lightbinders infused lower order elves with animal magic and bred a race of specialized slaves. Inspired by the whispers of rebellion pertaining to the Midnight Wars, the Fae of Ennulia rose as one and slaughtered the elves. They traveled city to city as a legion, killing elves and freeing enslaved Fae. The Fae leaders sent word to Anthora that they were now a free people and the Garnet Realm belonged to them. The elves challenged the Fae along the borders, but the Fae were strong and showed no mercy against those who had declared them less-than-people. The High King, his forces already damaged by the Midnight battles, called a truce and allowed the establishment of the Faelands, but the old biases never faded. Most elves don't know about Ennulia or about their role in creating the Fae, but their ignorance doesn't stop them from enforcing a caste system that keeps the Fae as far beneath them as possible without reestablishing slavery.”
Shan snorted. “Elves do still have slaves, though. They have the Uldru.”
Iefyr raised an eyebrow. “I'm not familiar with Uldru. I mean, I know the name because Daelon told me there were a group of them living in the forest near Jadeshire, but that was all he told me.”
Shan lowered his hand and pointed at the ground. “The Uldru are cave elves forced permanently underground by elves who though they were better. They live beneath us and serve the monstrous race called Varaku, but the Varaku serve the Jarrah, and they have for ages. The Jarrah make them dig for magic-infused stones and ores for their dragon forges. The Uldru have been crushed and twisted into something that is barely elven. My parents liberated a group of them and adopted an Uldru girl named Yana. She knew nothing but slavery before they found her underground.”
“The Jarrah are only one family, though, and most of them are gone now,” I said.
“No. No, they are not,” Shan said, his eyes narrowed. “The Jarrah are an order of highborn, many of whom are dragonbound warlocks, and the Nightshadow family is only one branch of the tree. Ranalae was the leader of the Nightshadow Jarrah sect, not the Jarrah as a whole. I don't know who the other families are or how they all connect, but I do know that there are Varaku hives all over Bacra, and each one is overseen by a Jarrah family and built upon the bodies of enslaved Uldru.”
Iefyr nodded at me. “Is this his confusion talking?”
“I'm not confused,” Shan said. “I know I'm confused sometimes and I say strange things, but this is reality. I was not fully initiated as a Jarrah, and underlings weren't told enough to identify any of the other families.”
“I don't have any reason to doubt him,” I said, shrugging. The movement jarred my sore ribs and forced a wince.
“Thank you. I'm glad you still believe me.”
“What is there to disbelieve? Yana's our sister and we know other Uldru, the rescued ones we taught to read. The Jarrah killed my father and kidnapped you and Mom. I've seen and learned enough to trust you on the matter.”
Shan shifted his weight and whispered, “I'm going to help them.”
Before I could ask him to clarify, a shrieking explosion rattled the air. The screams bounced off the crystalline
leaves and the music of the clanging chimes escalated from quiet and pleasant to deafening.
“Move. Get down,” Ragan said.
Without hesitation, all seven of us dismounted. We led the horses off the road and into the shade of the trees, where they sat on the lavender-tinged grass and huffed at the boles. We knelt beside them and stared up through the shimmering branches. Nothing but rolling clouds in an overcast sky.
More shrieks, accompanied by growls and roars. A slow, rhythmic beat of heavy wings rose above the chiming discord.
“What is it?” I mouthed at Ragan.
Ragan shook his head and held a finger to his lips. His jaw clenched as his eyes darted between gaps in the foliage.
“Cadra? Something else, too, but the shriek sounds like cadra,” Iefyr whispered. He crouched next to me, his shoulder against mine.
More wings, more chimes, and a pained scream. I leaned over my knees and pressed my palms to my ears. Too loud, much too loud, too close and my heart raced. Still sore from the panic attack, the rhythm was agonizing, a sharp, repetitive jab of a dull and rusty knife.
Behind me, Shan murmured a patterned verse. I couldn't make out the words, but I felt its frantic tempo. The air cooled as murky darkness crept over us, embracing us like a weighty blanket.
Iefyr grabbed my wrist, forcing me to drop my hand from my ear. “What is he doing?”
My breath caught in my throat as the mingled stenches of ammonia and sulfur rained down from the leaves. I forced an exhale, and the next inhalation burned my lungs. “He's shading us. He's trying to protect us.”
I returned my eyes to the sky. For an instant, the edge of a feathered wing was visible between the leaves. Iefyr slowly retrieved an arrow from his quiver and set it against his bow string.
Ragan shook his hands and reached toward Iefyr. “No. More than cadra. Wait.”
At my back, Shan continued his mumbled incantation.
A roar shook the trees. I shuddered and sank closer to the ground. I tilted my chin upward to see an opalescent scaled wing. It was fundamentally white in color, but picked up an array of violets and blues from the trees below and reflected them as a kaleidoscopic rainbow. The wing beat forcefully and a shower of glass-edged leaves rained down upon us.
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