While the mountains to which Wythcombe had retreated after his unnamed disappointment had been “healed,” they remained largely unsettled. Since finding riding animals who would tolerate Firekeeper and Blind Seer would cause delays, they were limited to what they could carry on their backs—more specifically, on the backs of the three humans, for it had been decided that the best use of Blind Seer’s talents would be as scout and protector. Firekeeper knew herself by far the strongest of those three humans, and had reluctantly resigned herself to moving at a slow human pace rather than roaming freely as a wolf should.
But a wolf thought of the pack, as well as herself, so Firekeeper stood patiently while she was fitted for a frame pack with padded straps and a belt so that the weight would be balanced against her entire body, not just hang heavy from her shoulders. Her only request was that the fastenings be such that she could unclip easily, in case she needed to shed the weight quickly.
There was much discussion on the subject of armor and weapons. In the end, they decided to do without the weight of armor. Bows served more than one purpose, so each human would take one. Spears could double as walking staves or probes. Instead of swords, everyone would carry at least two knives, longer and shorter, and a hatchet. This last was—to Firekeeper’s way of seeing things—far more useful than a sword, and in the hands of an unskilled fighter bit deeper.
When she wasn’t helping with preparations, Firekeeper visited her friends, most especially Derian. He had been her first human friend and was still by far the dearest. Her own adventures had not dulled her awareness that Derian would soon face a great challenge of his own, and she was determined that he would not back out.
Firekeeper went by the little cottage near the stables that Derian shared with Isende, formerly of the city of Gak, sole remaining heir to the Setting Sun Stronghold, and now very firmly a member of the core Nexus Islands community. Firekeeper wasn’t quite certain what human term to assign to the relationship, but she was certain that it was a good one for both involved. Nonetheless, on the day she chose to speak with Derian about his own upcoming journey, Firekeeper waited until Isende was attending classes taught by Ynamynet for those who had been discovered to have spellcasting ability. Blind Seer was also attending the class, and had promised her he would give ample warning so that Isende would not overhear anything that might make her uncomfortable.
Derian was not in the cottage when Firekeeper arrived, but she quickly found him lounging near the stable, consulting with Eshinarvash. The stallion was one of the Wise Horses of Liglim, a race whose origin was a mystery, even among the larger mystery of the yarimaimalom, for of all the Wise Beasts, only the horses were of a breed typically domesticated by humans. Although Eshinarvash was no larger than the average riding horse, something about the manner in which he carried himself, or possibly the wild black and white of his coat and flowing mane and tail, made him dominate his surroundings.
Derian’s battle with querinalo had not only transformed his appearance. It had also given him the ability to speak freely with horses. When Firekeeper joined them, the two were discussing a trade caravan to Liglim for which Eshinarvash would be the chief wrangler.
“And do you go with this?” Firekeeper asked when they paused to acknowledge her. “From Liglim you could have a boat to Hawk Haven.”
“Take,” Derian corrected automatically. “Take a boat. Yes, I could. However, it’s too early in the season for me to leave. If you have not forgotten, spring is when the use of the gates really picks up. The Mires have started shipping some of their more delicate herbs. Pelland is making good last year’s pledges to Tishiolo. This is when the Nexus Islands—as we are now—need to prove to the Old World nations that we’re as capable—more capable—than the previous administration. Now you and Blind Seer have tossed negotiations with a potentially adversarial land into the mix. How can I leave?”
“And with summer? Will your excuse then be the coming of winter, as last year?”
“Last summer,” Derian retorted with a very equine snort, “we had just fought a war. We had a treaty, sure, but we had to prove we could hold our ground. There are too many historical examples—as Skea in particular kept reminding me—of victors being conquered because they trusted too easily. And we were even worse off then than we are now because we had wounded to tend, and…”
Firekeeper cut him off. “I know. I was here, if I was not there and there again, seeking to learn more about our new ‘allies,’ checking gates to make certain they did not have a back door into our land. I know. But you are too skilled at this making of reasons you cannot leave.”
“Firekeeper’s right, you know,” Eshinarvash added. “Annoying, true, but right. For now we hold the Nexus Islands and with them we control communication with the Old World. Do you believe this will last? One thing we must do this summer is make certain that we contact lands such as Hawk Haven that lack gates. Harjeedian has prepared our way in Liglim. Grateful Peace has done so in New Kelvin, but who but you should speak to the old king of Hawk Haven and his heir apparents? Will you dump the task on Elise Archer’s shoulders?”
Something in Derian’s expression gave away that he had been considering doing just that. Firekeeper could even understand why. Elise liked diplomacy. She had been born into the hereditary nobility of Hawk Haven, whereas Derain persisted in viewing himself as nothing more than a horse carter’s son. But Derian must accept himself as what he was now: the One of a pack that needed him not only to snap at the ears of those who overstepped, to praise those who did well, but also to speak with the rulers of the New World nations and make certain that they accepted the Nexus Islands and all they implied without the need for a war.
But Derian knew this, and in any case, as Firekeeper saw things, there was something more important for him to do.
“So, will you leave your family without the knowing of where you now are, who you are now? Will you leave Isende without her place in your family’s ancestral shrine?” Firekeeper still didn’t quite understand religions, but she knew that such was important to Derian and his people. “Last summer you promised you would go home to them, even if only for a visit. Are you for breaking that promise?”
Derian heaved a huge sigh. “I’m not going to break it, Firekeeper. I’ll go. I’ll bring Isende. Let me get through the spring trading season. By then we’ll have drier roads on which to ride, as well as quieter seas for sailing. There will still be time for us to make the journey, spend even as much as a moonspan visiting, then return. And who knows? Maybe by then we’ll find an active gate to Hawk Haven, and the trip can be done as easily as stepping from one room into another.”
“Maybe,” Firekeeper shrugged. “Gate or no gate should not matter. Going will be good for you and for Isende. The woman has not had much time with you, just you, these many moonspans. Some weeks on the road, on the ocean, I think they will be good for you both.”
The manner in which Derian’s lips curved into a spontaneous grin reassured Firekeeper. He would go and Isende as well. With that settled, she could turn her own feet to her own trail.
“Maybe we will be back from Rhinadei before you leave,” she said. “If so, perhaps we can run the trail with you. Blind Seer and I would enjoy seeing our pack, as well as some of our human friends.”
But, even as she spoke the words, she felt a strange certainty that her and Blind Seer’s trail would take them in other directions, that it might be a long while before she spoke with Derian again.
VII
LARIA HUGGED HER mother, Nenean, and Kitatos so tightly little Kitatos gave a squeak of protest. Nenean’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, but she stood straight as her new position as eldest merited. In her hair, Laria had braided thin ribbons that each of them had worn for several days—a link between them that she could read with her talent.
“You’ll bring us presents, right?” Nenean said. “And stories?”
“Promise,” Laria said. “Little presents and big stories.”
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Ikitata had already pressed any number of small comforts on Laria, including more socks than Laria thought she could possibly wear and fresh soles for her boots. Now her hands fluttered, as if she was looking for something else to give.
“Don’t worry,” Laria said, giving her an extra hard squeeze. “I’ll be careful, and I’ll remember what you said about me being an ambassador and do you proud.”
Then she half ran to where Chaker Torn waited at the dock with the Wavecleaver. Since they had no idea how long they would be gone, it had been deemed a waste of resources to leave even a small craft for them, but the yarimaimalom would keep watch. The rest of the group was already aboard, Firekeeper looking vaguely miserable even though the weather was calm.
Upon their arrival in Rhinadei, Varelle herself escorted them directly to the start of the road that would eventually take them to Wythcombe. Wjem and Mata awaited them with maps and extra supplies, including the augmented medical kits that Varelle had promised. By mid-afternoon, they had begun their journey.
The mountain trails were unlike anything Laria had ever imagined. It was not just their steepness, for in comparison the Iron Mountains in the New World were only hills. Nor was it their height, so great that after several days even Firekeeper and Blind Seer needed to rest because the air was too thin to fill their lungs. It was that among these titanic formations there was evidence of the incredible power wielded by the sorcerers of long ago.
“Why are you surprised?” the Meddler asked during one of their routine rest stops. “We’re following a human-made road. You’d expect to see their work.”
Laria fought an urge to roll her eyes toward the clouds. Clouds up close had been another revelation. She’d never realized that they were basically fog floating in the sky.
“Maybe because I’m not an ancient demigod reborn? I’m fourteen years old and until last year, I’d never been anywhere except the Nexus Islands. The tours Ynamynet has insisted be part of our education haven’t gone much beyond the cities in which the gates are located.”
“I’m not a demigod,” the Meddler retorted predictably. Arasan managed to claim the face long enough for his own version of the eyes-to-the-clouds expression before the Meddler went on. “All right, what you say is fair enough, but you’ve grown up living on islands that hold—when taken as a unit—one of the greatest artifacts created by the pre-querinalo sorcerers. The Spell Wielders were perhaps the largest concentration of magical talent gathered since querinalo. I’d think it would take a great deal to impress you.”
Laria shook her head. “It’s exactly the opposite. Because I grew up with the gates, they didn’t impress me any more than my morning porridge. Less, maybe, even, because the oats for the porridge came from some exotic elsewhere. I think now, after this trip, the gates are going to impress me more. For the first time in my life, I really understand distance.”
Firekeeper, who had shrugged out of her pack and was sitting with one arm thrown over Blind Seer, grinned. “We two run in step with Laria in this, and between us we have coursed many long trails. These roads by themselves, they are enough to cause wonder. Look back to where we just came. In some places, the rock was cut as smoothly as a hot knife does through butter. There is even a little of the same melt. What power did it take to cut rock like that?”
Firekeeper’s honest astonishment warmed Laria. One thing she was learning about Firekeeper was that the wolf-woman saw no value in pretending she knew more than she did. She was quick to admit an error, but equally quick to boast, so this was no pretense of humility, meant to make Laria feel better.
“You didn’t see anything like this in the Iron Mountains in the New World?” Arasan asked.
“Nothing,” Firekeeper replied. “In the ways of old magic, you must be eyes—and even ears—for me and for Blind Seer and even Laria. Tell us if you see anything that might be dangerous. We know the shape of snares from our place, but if some old working left a trap or trick, we might not know it.”
The wolf-woman pushed herself to her feet and hefted the much-despised pack back onto her shoulders. Laria did the same, although she could have used a longer rest. Arasan took time to finish a note he’d been scribbling in a small leather-bound journal and annotate one of the maps. Then he, too, rose and, with a groan, hefted his pack.
Firekeeper flashed another grin at him. “Farborn says that there is a good place for making tonight’s camp ahead, but it is up more, then down, then around the edge before we come to it. Can you manage? If not, I can carry a little more.”
“I can manage. Your pack already weighs nearly twice mine. Like Laria, I’ve lived too long restricted to a few islands. I fear I’m out of shape.”
He looked wistful. Laria wondered if the Meddler ever regretted his choice to take on a human body after so many years as a spirit. If so, he never spoke of it.
“Unlike Laria,” Arasan said sounding melancholy, “Even in the days when the Spell Wielders ruled, I did visit the cities on the other sides of the gates from time to time. My talent is so unthreatening and my stories and songs so welcome and varied, that I am often invited to entertain—even at royal courts.”
Or were, Laria thought. Ever since Arasan and the Meddler merged, Ynamynet has taken care that Arasan not leave the Nexus Islands. There were a few invitations after the war—goodwill gestures—but Arasan’s body was so weak that there was ample excuse to decline. I hadn’t thought about it, but this is the first major trip away that he/they have taken. I’m sure it’s because Firekeeper is here. She has some hold over the Meddler—one that goes beyond his obvious desire to impress her. I wonder if he’s really as dangerous as everyone says? The worst I’ve ever seen from him is sarcasm.
Firekeeper, who walked in front, spoke without turning her head. “I have been to royal courts. Even to royal weddings—as a guest, not entertainment.”
Arasan laughed. “I am wounded, my lady. I was not mere entertainment. I was a valued, well…”
“Entertainer?” Laria inserted slyly.
Arasan laughed again, but there was pride in his reply. “I was viewed as a living piece of art, something beyond the usual strummers of lutes and tellers of other peoples’ tales. My very appearance was a reason for celebration. You do not sufficiently appreciate me and my gifts.”
“We do,” Firekeeper said. “Most honestly, we do. I think that, with Farborn and Blind Seer to scout for us, it is safe for you to lighten our trail with a story. Perhaps one about the days of great magic—not a scary one, one to tell us more about what they could do? With the Meddler, you may be the only one who has the means of separating great fancies from what was real.”
“If you don’t mind my skipping the songs, and otherwise husbanding my breath, I would enjoy doing so. Let me see… Ah, yes! Here’s just the one. It’s from the days when Azure Towers was not a nation, but a part of Pelland that hosted the greatest school for magic on all that land or—so many boasted—any other.”
“Good,” Firekeeper said. “That sounds just right.”
The days on the trail passed quickly enough. Blind Seer had learned that many humans believed that wolves were like owls—creatures who must live their lives by night. This was not true in the least. Indeed, heat, not light, wore at him more. Here in the mountains the days were pleasantly cool but not cold. These relatively temperate conditions made their discovery of the city made all of ice and snow even more astonishing.
They came upon it all unawares. They had been laboring uphill toward a crest so barren that not even Farborn was tempted to scout ahead. When they paused at the crest to catch their breaths, there it was, spread throughout the valley below them. The wintery city filled the valley, its buildings going up the sides, so that distant guard towers gave the impression of peaking at the travelers’ own level. Where sunlight struck towers and cornices, walls and arches, minute rainbows shot forth. Dominating one edge of the city glittered a castle, seemingly cut all from diamond. Within the expanse of white and cry
stal were scattered trees, but otherwise they saw no living thing. The city’s gate straddled the road, wide open and maybe inviting, for all that the road’s surface was the pristine white of untouched snow.
Firekeeper laid one hand on Blind Seer’s shoulder. “I know what my eyes see,” she said in the language of the wolves. “What does your nose tell you?”
Ice had little scent of its own, so Blind Seer sniffed for the scents that should be there—those of plants, small animals, and sun-drenched rock. There was nothing but the dry bite of frost.
“I believe the city is truly there,” Blind Seer replied. “That or we have entered another of Rhinadei’s games, such as we encountered on the plain. Somehow, I do not believe this is so.”
Farborn had been riding Laria’s shoulder, but as soon as they had seen the city spread out before them, he had launched himself aloft, soaring high to scout. Now he glided back down, landing on the arm Laria held out for him.
“I believe we could go around the valley, but the rises that cradle this vale are rough and craggy. Worse—at least for ease of scouting from above—there are enough towering evergreens that I could not simply fly high and be sure that there is an open way. It is possible that even if you went several days journey from this road, you might need to turn back. This is a broken land for those who go on two feet or even four. It might be best to go through the city. The gate stands open and I saw nothing larger than a bird within.”
After Firekeeper had translated, Arasan said, “Let’s check the maps Varelle gave us. Thus far they have been accurate—and I don’t recall a city, of ice or otherwise.”
They unrolled the map and weighted its corners down with stones. Arasan ran his finger along the route they had come, muttering below his breath. At last he paused, checked a few landmarks, then indicated an area.
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