Reckoning

by David Adams

  The descent was long, the ravine growing so deep that even the never-ceasing red glow from the sky started to fade as the shoulders of the great cleft grew higher about them. Ahead the darkness deepened, and the stag did not lead from so far ahead anymore. Even so it became a dim shape before them, a shadow creature that might at any moment dissipate into nothing.

  Uesra froze and held up a hand. The gesture was unseen by the others, but they could hear her clearly enough when she said, “Listen.”

  From somewhere up ahead came the soft gurgling of a small stream.

  “Careful,” Xanar warned, though his heart soared with hope just as strongly as those of his companions. “We don’t know that it is safe.”

  Despite their growing excitement, the others did not need the warning. The deepening darkness only increased their caution, and they would not so much as willingly touch a stream they could not see in this accursed land.

  The ravine became narrower and the stag slowed. The sound of the running stream became clearer, the delicate noise echoing gently off the steep-sided walls of earth and rock around them. The stag pawed at the ground and snorted, then turned to face those it had guided to this point.

  “It’s trying to tell us something,” said Darius. “I’d like to think that the water is okay to drink. If we just had a bit of light down here…”

  “It would be helpful,” Silas said. He turned back to look at Adrianna.

  In the shadowed valley they could not see her blush. She hadn’t really expected that the others hadn’t noted her feeble attempts at magic, but as they had been polite enough to say nothing she could at least pretend some of what she had done had been in private. Still, she reminded herself, she should be glad her skills, however limited, might be of some use. She cleared her parched throat and spoke the words to a spell as quietly as she could, almost embarrassed at being watched and fearful she might fail. With some relief she saw the small orb of light wink into existence, and she sent it forward with the barest hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth.

  Up above the glowing globe’s light would have seemed feeble, but here in the deep shadows it was more than sufficient. The stream ran perpendicular to the ravine, a channel running half-a-foot beneath the ravine’s base. Where the stream came from or went they could not see or even guess. With all the changes to the landscape, it was as likely to be some far-reaching finger of the Vale River as an underground spring.

  Silas knelt next to the stream, dipped in his fingers, and then sniffed the liquid. “Cold. Smells okay.” Even as he registered the truth of what he had said he could hear the lingering doubt in his voice. Before he could say more, the stag was beside him. Silas gave it some space as it lowered its head, its antlers more troublesome in the close space. It lapped at the water, gave Silas a long look, and then backed away.

  “We’ve trusted it this far,” Darius said. He stepped forward, willing to go first, but Silas had drawn the same conclusion, and brought a cupped handful to his mouth.

  “It’s fine,” the cleric said with a relieved smile.

  They took turns drinking and filling their water bottles, while the deer waited patiently a few feet away. When it could tell they were done, it moved between them and then crossed the stream, where it stopped after only a few steps. With its hoof it kicked something toward them, which for an instant they all mistook for a stone.

  Xanar reached across the stream to pick it up. “It’s a nut.”

  They moved forward, following the glowing sphere Adrianna now repositioned to where the stag was. There was an opening in the side of the ravine, a space where large slabs of rock and earth had come together during the recent upheaval but not quite connected. Barely visible in the deeper portion of the opening were the roots of a tree that had been toppled and subsequently buried. And left in jumbled disorder in the open space was what had been hidden somewhere in or near the tree’s base before it had been uprooted: a store of nuts and dried fruit.

  Silas looked at the food, then at the stag, his amazement apparent on his face. “This is more than could have been hoped for.” He stared at the animal for several seconds, and it returned his gaze with the same quiet confidence it had shown since they had first seen it, but it did nothing more. Silas would not have thought himself mad at that moment if the stag had spoken.

  They gathered the food up quickly, and seeing the stag make no motion that they should move on they allowed themselves a few bites. The nuts they needed to crack open with stones they found nearby, but the meat inside, while having a slightly bitter flavor, was plentiful. The fruit was bland but they were more than grateful for it.

  As soon as everyone had had a chance to eat something, Adrianna cleared her throat. Once she had their attention, she indicated the magic light with an outthrust thumb. “Think we can do without it for a while?” she asked. She said nothing further, but even in the dim light the others now noticed that her face had grown more haggard and drawn, the lines there deeper. It was easy to forget the energy a sorceress needed to pour into her magic, especially one relearning her trade as Adrianna was.

  “Of course,” Uesra said. “My apologies.” The others chimed in with similar sentiments.

  Before Adrianna released the sphere, a subtle movement caught her attention. The deer had moved a short way back up the ravine, but not to depart. Rather, it dropped to the ground, tucked its head into the crook of one of its folded legs, and closed it eyes. “Time for our friend to sleep, apparently,” Adrianna said.

  She let the light go out, and for a moment they were each alone in the dark ravine. As their eyes adjusted they could see one another as shadowy forms, but the deer, so low to the ground now, was lost to them.

  “Seems as good a time and place as any to rest,” Uesra said.

  “I know I’m tired,” Darius said, concurring.

  “Makes sense to me,” said Xanar. “And I’m not sure we have any other good choice right now. This water and food is a treasure, but even so, where we are or which direction we should go next is beyond me. I’m hoping the stag isn’t done with us yet.”

  “Do we need to set a guard?” Adrianna asked.

  “It is always the safe choice, but I’d suggest we risk otherwise tonight, if night this is,” Silas said. “We are well-hidden down in this cut, and anything or anyone approaching would find it hard to do so in total silence.”

  “And we could all use the sleep,” Uesra added. “We do not know if we’ll get another such chance before facing our next trial.”

  They slept as best they could, but despite how exhausted they were, the rough surface of the ravine’s base and walls was hardly conducive to comfort. Each of them also slept lightly, subconsciously keeping an ear if not an eye open for any indication of trouble.

  For a long while after he awoke Darius continued to rest with his back propped against the side of the ravine. He let his head lean back as well so he could look up at the sky, watching the dance of the lightning with some fascination. He felt he could sleep for a week, but he knew the few fitful hours he had taken were all he could expect for now. The lack of sleep did not bother him. His tiredness was now measured beyond the usual aches and pains, had now become a sort of pervasive numbness, one which brought an odd comfort. He did not feel any fear about what might await them at Old Bern, but it wasn’t confidence that chased such fear away. Instead it was a certain feeling of inevitability that the looming showdown was near, and that he and his friends would find rest when it was over, one way or another.

  What did weigh on him as he regarded the haunted sky was his family. For a long time he could only hope Sasha was safely away somewhere, and now he had the same hopes for his parents. Without reason to believe these blasted lands did not extend all around Old Bern, he had quietly accepted that his boyhood home was no more. Whether or not his parents had escaped the cataclysm that had torn the earth he could only hope to learn once the companions’ business with Kaelesh was finished.

  “Oddl
y beautiful, in a way,” Xanar said. He pointed skyward to confirm what he was referring to.

  “Weather phenomena always are,” Darius replied. “I’m not sure that’s what it is exactly, but it fits. Like all severe weather, mesmerizing but potentially deadly.”

  “I’m just glad the lightning seems content to remain in the sky. Despite the growing depths of these ravines, it still feels like we’re far too much out in the open.”

  “We’ve been watched so much of late that one can’t help but feel exposed, no matter how well hidden we might be.”

  “I know. That’s why even down here I don’t feel we’re necessarily safe from the enemy’s gaze.”

  “Have you slept?”

  Xanar chuckled. “I don’t think so, but I’ll admit it’s hard to tell. Let’s say I’ve dozed a bit.”

  For a time they contemplated the sky in silence, then Darius asked, “Are you ready for what’s next?”

  “Yes,” Xanar said, “as much as anyone could be. Which is another way of saying ‘No.’ ”

  “Well, at least we’re clear on that.”

  “You?”

  “I’m ready for it to be over.”

  “We all are.”

  Even if none of the companions slept well, the stag did, if one could judge by its bearing when it rose. It waited patiently while the party refreshed themselves with water and partook one last time of the excess food they could not carry, and when it sensed they were ready it headed back up the ravine the way they had come. Once clear of the cut it turned right—what they took to be south—and continued to lead them through new areas of the blasted lands.

  “Think it knows where we want to go?” Adrianna asked. “The food and water were a more obvious need.”

  “It seems to know where it wants to go,” Uesra replied. “That’ll have to do for now.”

  Just in case, Silas said, “Old Bern” aloud. The deer paused and regarded him for a moment, then continued on. Silas shrugged, feeling both silly for speaking to an animal and at the same time almost embarrassed, as if pointing out something the creature already knew. “Worth a shot,” he mumbled.

  Their march went on for several hours, difficult as always. But the broken land at least did not appear to be getting worse. If it had, they suspected there eventually might be great chasms they would have no hope of crossing, and that even the stag would be stymied. The low growl of thunder that accompanied the lightning was ever-present, as was the scream of the hot wind that blew from the south. When they were on higher ground they felt it blow directly on their faces, and it was the best confirmation they could hope for that they were moving in the right direction. Save these and their own footfalls there was no other sound they could hear in this land, barren and forsaken by all that lived.

  They moved up the edge of a deep cleft, needing to use the thick roots of some tumbled tree like a rope to pull themselves up. The deer, as always, had managed to find sufficient footing to quickly ascend to the higher ground, and it waited as the companions toiled upward. Once they reached the stag, they beheld a sight which quickened their hearts.

  “The Vale,” Darius said, pointing west. They had found the river once more, and were relieved to think they might be able to make their own way once more, if such was required.

  Apparently the deer had not finished its task upon coming within sight of the river. It led on, and the travelers followed, sure that it would know the best way forward, although they hoped privately that they would stay within sight of the river for the rest of this journey.

  They still made most of their progress in the low areas, but eventually they reached a relatively flat section of land which led up to a large upthrust pile of earth and rock, a large hill or small mountain recently born. The deer led them around this to the right, and they came within thirty yards of the river, the nearest they had been since finding the animal. They were close enough to hear the water as it rolled through it course, splashing here and there against rocks or uneven areas of its banks. It commanded their attention for a time, a lifeline to which they were now reconnected. It took a few moments for them to realize that the stag had stopped as well, but that it was not looking at the river.

  The formation they had just moved around appeared to mark the edge of the earth’s upheaval, as beyond it the land was flat and not sundered, if not untouched. Any grass that might have grown there in times past was gone, and the ground itself was black and dull, as if burned until only dark ash remained. Across this flat plain stood the city of Old Bern.

  Chapter 18: Old Bern

  “You have interesting cities here in the south,” Xanar said.

  “It’s changed a little bit since I saw it last,” Darius answered.

  “I guess if we are looking for a demon-lord on Corterra, this seems a likely place,” Adrianna said.

  The city would have appeared out of place in its normal surroundings, but here amidst the blasted lands, with a glowing red sky above, it seemed at home. It had not changed in size or general shape, but it had been transformed from a place of stone and metal to one of more base material. The city walls were obsidian topped with white growths of sharp-ended bone. Inside towers rose toward the sky, forbidding structures with dark windows, which frowned down on the surrounding countryside. The companions could make out the bridge and one of the two main gates from where they stood, but could see no watch posted at these critical points, or upon the high wall.

  The Vale River ran just south of the city, where it met the sea. A channel had been made generations ago to bring a portion of the river around the city’s northern face as well, effectively forcing any attacking force to cross the river or come by way of the sea to reach the city. There were two bridges that spanned the water, one over the river and one over the channel, which allowed the Coast Road to bisect Old Bern as its main thoroughfare, as well as providing trade routes both north and south.

  “Any other way into the city?” Uesra asked.

  “I’m not aware of any secret ways,” replied Darius, “though I do not doubt they exist.” He looked to his fellow humans, all residents of Longvale, for further input.

  “I’ve only been to Old Bern twice,” Silas said. “And I used that bridge both times.”

  “Two more times than I’ve been,” Adrianna stated. “I’ve always preferred to avoid the large crowds.”

  “Doesn’t seem like crowds are an issue right now,” Xanar said. “Does it bother anybody else that the place is so quiet?”

  “Certainly,” said Uesra. “But the gate is closed, a likely sign that the city is not devoid of life. If everyone had fled, I doubt the last out would have bothered to close it.”

  “We need to assume any approach to the city will be watched,” Silas said. “But with no other way in, we are almost compelled to try the bridge.”

  “To spring the trap, if one awaits,” Darius said.

  Silas nodded.

  They started forward, slowly, studying everything before them. After having spent days grinding their way through defiles and ravines and wishing for easier ground to traverse, here they wished for the cover such low areas provided. Their entire approach to Old Bern would be very visible to any watching eyes on the walls or in the high towers.

  Before they had gone twenty yards, Silas looked back. The stag stood as tall and proud as ever, but it remained firmly in place. “Looks like we’re on our own from here,” he said, with a touch of sadness. The others looked back upon hearing his words, and as it had done when they had first met, the stag fixed each of them for a moment with a searching gaze. Then it dropped its head once, as if in acknowledgment of their time together and its wish for their success, turned, and bounded out of sight.

  “I wonder where it will go now.” Adrianna said.

  “If there are better places in Corterra,” Silas replied, “that deer will find them. Our job is to make sure those pockets of life and beauty, if they still exist, remain.”

  What they thought of as wea
ther turned no worse, but on the open plain it seemed so. The fiery sky took on an extra weight, as if pressing down upon them, and the crackling lightning felt closer, causing a subtle tingling on their skin. The wind now screamed, and the companions would have shed their cloaks to prevent them flapping wildly, if they had not been long since put away. They could almost sense there would be an area of relative calm at Old Bern, the eye of the storm that swirled endlessly around a fixed nexus.

  They reached the road to the bridge without incident. The structure appeared whole and unchanged by the chaos evident all about, and if it was watched the guards did not show themselves. The bridge was within the range of a bowman on the city walls, but they could see nothing stirring on the battlements above.

  “If I say this is too easy, something will bar our way, right?” Darius asked.

  “Right,” Xanar answered. “So don’t say it.”

  “Don’t need to,” Darius said. He had lifted Gabriel a half-inch out of its sheath, and now drew it fully. White fire poured off of it.

  The others readied their weapons as well. “We did say we didn’t want to find the place abandoned and Kaelesh gone,” Adrianna pointed out.

  “True,” Uesra said. “But I do wish our foes would be so kind as to show themselves. It is easier to have a plan when you know what you’re up against.”

  They set foot on the bridge, cautiously, testing it as if they expected it might give way beneath their weight. The channel it spanned was maybe thirty yards across, and the fall was not a long one, as its banks were not high. Still, no one had the desire to be unceremoniously dropped into the swift-flowing stream. Fortunately, the bridge was as sound as it had ever been. Not a single creak or groan was to be heard from the wooden planks beneath their feet.

  Suddenly a sword appeared before them, hanging in the air, blocking the way. It was a deep red in hue, the color of blood, and was eight feet long from the base of the handle to the tip of the blade. The sword was pointed skyward and did not move, for the moment only a warning. The bridge was only twelve feet wide, not nearly wide enough to think they could slip by out of the sword’s reach.