A wild arc of lava spewed into the air, the swirling red and white hair of an ecstatic, dancing goddess. A cascade of red and black lava poured over the rim of the crater, steam heralding its very movement.
It seemed headed directly toward them.
“I like that even less.” He tossed the last of their gear inside the wagon. He’d have to finish his dissection later, on a new serdil carcass. “How fast can we get out of here?”
“Help me hitch the team and we’ll start moving.” Lorel thrust a hide from the dismantled tent under the wagon door and abandoned the rest in a pile. “Ain’t this Loom-warping exciting?”
“No.” Viper growled through gritted teeth. “Bahtdor bait, you never will have any sense.”
“At least it’ll get warmer for a while.”
He stopped stamping on the cook fire to stare at her. “Do you know what will happen to all this snow if it gets very warm?”
“I figure it’ll melt a bit.” Lorel fastened the buckles on Poppy’s harness, and moved on to Periwinkle.
Tsai’dona tied her mare’s reins to the driver’s bench. “I’ll saddle up Nightshade.” She dashed out of sight. Her mare huddled closer to Poppy.
“This area will be submerged.” The Kyridon peered along the valley floor. “This vicinity will be inundated in exceedingly arctic water. This one does not aspire to swim in frigid water.”
Hail bounced around them – hail made of hot pebbles.
“Thunderer’s dice!” Viper jerked several serdil hides off the pile that used to be the tent. He slung a hide over the head of each shying roan, and a second on each back. He needed a third pelt to cover their hindquarters. “You two are too big for your own safety,” he grumbled, and yelped as a hot stone grazed his shoulder, singeing the fur on his cloak.
“Get inside, kid!” Lorel hastily dragged another pelt across her stallion’s back. “Drive from inside the wagon!”
“These hides have to be tied on.” He spoke calmly, but his hands shook. He staggered to the back of the wagon and grabbed a coil of rope from the lowest chest, but Lorel took it away from him and put it back.
“As sure as we cut it, we’ll need it whole.” She grabbed a bedraggled hide and cut it into long strips. “Here, use these.”
Tsai’dona helped him tie the strips into longer ropes. He tossed a couple of ropes over Periwinkle’s back and neck. He slid under the gelding’s belly, grabbed the strips and tied the hides down. Looking up, he was relieved to see Lorel had finished protecting Poppy and was working on Nightshade while Tsai’dona tied furs onto Sumach.
Big drops of blackened rain spattered into the snow, and the sizzling pebbles fell more often. Some were the size of his fist.
“Let’s hurry faster, guys.” Lorel tied the stallion to the other side of the driver’s bench. She grabbed Viper and tossed him up to the door. “Get inside, Tsai. We ain’t no use out here.”
Tsai’dona was barely inside the wagon when the team leaned into the harness and trotted away from the volcano. Without any direction from a human.
“The reins are still tied to the driver’s platform,” Viper shouted.
“Them horses know where they’re going as good as we do. Let them worry about it.” Lorel crawled into the lower bunk and closed her eyes.
Tsai’dona blinked at her, shrugged at Viper, and curled up on the floor. The lid of the bench she normally used as a bed bounced like the lid of a clacking coffin in a hero’s tale.
Not to mention he was sitting on it and bouncing along with it, while trying to monitor the roans.
The Kyridon peered down at both girls from the top bunk. It turned to Viper. “The swordling is undoubtedly correct. The hatchling should repose.”
He glared under the door at the straining team. “Somebody ought to keep track of where we’re going.” The wagon jolted over rocky ground, and he braced himself against the wall. “Or at least, where we’ve been. The horses can’t take all the responsibility.”
Poppy neighed softly, a laughing sort of sound.
Viper stared at her, but ashy rain poured in earnest. Soon he couldn’t see the pelt-covered horses, much less the land beyond them. He sighed, stowed away his notebook, all their loose gear and serdil pelts, and climbed into the bunk with the Kyridon.
The Dreshin Viper coiled around him and hummed.
“You’re just happy because now you’re warmer,” he grumbled.
Tsai’dona laughed out loud, but he swore he heard Lorel snoring.
***
Dirty, slushy rain solidified into gray snowflakes several hours later. Lightning continued to thunder and crackle above their heads, but even these last thunderdrums blew away towards the east. The volcano belched ash into the clouds, but the rain of pebbles eventually stopped.
The team plodded wearily through melted ice water. Periwinkle stumbled with exhaustion, but righted himself and leaned into his work.
“We’ve got to find a dry placed to camp.” Still wrapped in his serdil cloak – they all were, it was so cold inside the wagon – Viper knelt on the chest behind the driver’s bench, where he’d sat for the last hour. “The horses aren’t going to last much longer.”
Lorel rolled out of the bunk and sat down next to him. She studied the team judiciously and nodded. “I’ll go looking for a place.”
“You’ll soak your boots.” His turybird didn’t have the sense the Thunderer forced into a sand lizard. “They’ll freeze solid before we find a place to build a fire. Assuming we can find enough dry wood to burn.”
Tsai’dona settled onto the chest beside him. “We need to find a forest. There’s always dead wood under trees.”
“I know.” Lorel climbed under the door and sat on the driver’s bench. Carefully, almost delicately, she slid onto the soggy pelt covering Nightshade’s saddle.
“That looks miserable.” Viper shivered, but followed her out to the bench. “She’s going to freeze from her rear end up.”
Tsai’dona nodded. “I’ll take the pelt off before I mount.” She slithered under the door onto the bench and leaned out to her mare. “Take this, would you?” She handed him the serdil pelt she had used to protect the saddle.
Lorel tossed all the pelts she’d used on Nightshade at his boots.
Viper pushed them away with his foot. “These really are stinky hides, no getting around that.”
She laughed. “Yup. But I’ll nail them all back in place as soon as we make camp.”
He shoved the stiff, putrid hides under the driver’s bench. “They need a lot more scraping than they got.”
“Don’t worry, the wind will come up again soon,” she said cheerfully. “They’ll get blasted down good. We better make serdil blankets for all the horses tonight, and leggings, too. Them little woolen things ain’t gonna be enough if the wind blows as hard as I’m thinking it will.”
“We surely have enough fur to cover all seven Holy Temples.” Tsai’dona kneed her mare forward. “What makes you think it’ll blow so hard?”
“The way the clouds are moving.” Lorel pointed at the rapidly changing sky. The thunderdrums had moved far to the east, and low, swirling clouds raced in their place.
Viper studied the shifting patterns and nodded. “I think you’d better find that camping place rather soon.”
“Right.” Lorel turned the stallion north, searching for a path to higher ground.
Tsai’dona looked back at him, nodded, and followed Nightshade as he splashed up the valley.
“I hope they don’t fall into a hole.”
The Kyridon stuck its head over his shoulder. “The swordlings maintain a reasonable velocity. The anchor displays more concern for the earth child’s safety than for its own wellbeing.” It slunk back into the wagon and nudged the door shut.
Anchor? That was new. What did it mean? Not that the serpent would ever explain itself.
The team plodded wearily. Both horses stumbled occasionally.
Wasn’t there anything he could do to e
ase their labors? “Hey, my earth children. Let’s see if this helps.” He closed his eyes and whispered, “Wagen an lytle leoghtre be.”
The horses lifted their heads, ears twitching. They didn’t walk any faster, but they didn’t seem as exhausted. They moved as if the wagon really were a little lighter.
He grinned. Another improvised chant that worked the first time. Trevor would be proud of him.
Lorel urged Nightshade out of the water, up a steep slope. She turned and waved at him.
Viper waved back, but didn’t shake the reins.
“Hurry up, kid!” she shouted. Her hair swirled around her face like a tangle of snakes. “We ain’t got much time.”
Tsai’dona rode up beside her. Her mare stumbled on the slick ground.
“Go find shelter!” No way could they hear him. He pointed up the hill.
They turned their horses and disappeared behind the rocks.
Icy wind hit him seconds later. He bit his lip and forced himself to be patient. He wrapped his cloak tighter across his chest and waited.
When the team reached the slope, he shook the reins. “Now Poppy! Move, Periwinkle! Wagen leoghtre be!”
The horses surged up the hill.
The wagon groaned and swayed, bouncing over every pebble. Every bit of metal clanged together. He heard his cook pots thump and thud inside the rear chests.
Viper gritted his teeth and jiggled the reins.
The horses’ muscles heaved with effort. Onward they rushed, heads down and hooves pounding.
“Slow down!” Tsai’dona shrieked.
Viper glanced up, and slid the reins to the left. “Wagen an lytle leoghtre na.” He guided the team closer to the girls before releasing the chant entirely.
Lorel stared at the horses in astonishment.
Tsai’dona stared directly at him.
The team stood in the traces, twitching and puffing. Their ears pricked forward and Poppy nickered at Nightshade.
“Well?” Viper sat up straight and glared. “You call this shelter?”
Shaking her head, Lorel turned Nightshade down a wide corridor of boulders.
Tsai’dona grinned and waved at him to follow.
He peered down the winding passage, then back at the wagon. “I hope we’ll all fit.” He sighed and joggled the reins.
Lorel stopped at the first turn and dismounted.
“Here?” Viper stood up on the driver’s platform and glared at the boulders outthrust from the cliff above them. At least the turybird had found a large space, even if it didn’t look safe.
“We’re outta the wind here.” Lorel unsaddled Nightshade and laid the gear inside a protective cavelet.
Tsai’dona grabbed a curry comb from compartment under the driver’s platform and began to groom Sumach.
Viper shook his head and dropped down to the bench. After a bit of cussing on both sides of the reins, he backed the team around until the wagon faced the entrance.
“Whatcha you doing, kid?”
“Getting ready for a quick escape.” He jumped down from the bench and unsheathed his now-dull dissection knife. He cut the leather cords and yanked the reeking serdil hides off the horses’ backs. There, that was the worst part of the job. He worked at unbuckling Poppy’s harness with numb fingers.
The girls finished grooming their horses before they strolled over to help him unharness the roans. After a quick grooming, and giving all four horses a ration of grain, they set up their own camp.
The wind howled above the cliff like a pack of serdil.
Viper started up from trying to start the cook fire, but the horses chomped serenely in their nosebags. Praise the Thunderer, they weren’t under attack. He was almost too tired to worry about it.
Lorel trudged along the base of the cliff with another armload of branches. “Ain’t much good fuel around here, kid.” She dropped the little pile of wood near his fire and set her axe next to it.
Tsai’dona lugged her armful over to his fire pit. “Most of it’s wet, too.”
Only a few trees clung to the mountainside high above them. No way could they climb up there with a storm coming. But did they have a choice?
The Kyridon poked its nose out the window on their side. How had it gotten the shutters open without hands? “This one suggests the sproutlings collect desiccated shrubbery. This one predicts a transitory but intensely bitter atmospheric disturbance.”
Lorel rolled her eyes. “What?”
Some days he sincerely wished the serpent could speak like a normal person. “It thinks we should gather dead brush, we’re in for a cold storm.”
“Why didn’t it just say so?” She picked up her ax and plodded away from the camp. Tsai’dona followed her.
Viper drew up his hood and limped after them. His heavy cloak billowed around him, catching the icy air. He grabbed the edges and pulled it tight.
Shrieking wind knocked him to the ground the instant he stepped clear of the boulders.
Head bowed against the icy wind, he lurched to his knees. He glanced at the girls, but they strode away without looking back.
He shrugged. They could collect firewood. He obviously wouldn’t be of any use.
He staggered to his foot and turned back toward the wagon.
Wind blasted into him, yanked him off the ground. It caught inside his cloak and he sailed into the air.
And plummeted.
He thudded against the slope and rolled like a barrel. He hurtled down the mountainside, whirling faster and faster, propelled by the wind. His cloak wrapped around him like a furry shroud. The hood covered his face, leaving him almost blind.
The mountain spun around him like a tornado. Dizziness muddled his brain. There must be something – anything – he could do to slow his spinning fall. But the world kept on whirling.
He crashed against something, a bush, he thought. The impact jarred his teeth and rattled his wits. He spun higher into the air.
And fell.
He squinched his eyes shut, curled into a knot, and waited to splat on the boulders below.
After an eternity, he landed flat on his back.
Breath whooshed out of him, but he barely felt the impact before he bounced, and bounced again. He settled limply on the springy surface.
When he caught his breath, he wiggled, checking for damage. No pain.
Was he dead?
After such a fall, he should be dead, or badly damaged. He’d studied enough anatomy to know that. Why wasn’t he hurt?
He was shaking all over, from shock, he guessed. He wiggled his arms free from his cloak and pushed the hood from his face. Wind whipped his hair into his eyes. He held his soggy mop back and peered around.
He lay on top of a thick, ancient bramble. Finger-long thorns surrounded his head, his whole body.
Viper moaned and froze like a terrified coney. If he moved, the thorns would penetrate the fur and pierce him.
But they hadn’t. Not yet. Suddenly he was grateful for the coney-lined serdil cloak. Who’d have guessed the pelts were tough enough to resist wooden stilettos?
Where was Lorel? He could see an appallingly long way up the mountain, but no one coming to his rescue. He must have fallen nearly to the valley floor!
There was nothing but rocks on the slope above him. Rocks, and wind-driven snow.
A snow pellet stung his cheek.
The storm was moving in. He remembered the Kyridon’s warning and hissed at himself. He couldn’t stay here, waiting for his turybird. He’d freeze.
He sat up cautiously, pulling his cloak up with him. Thorns snagged in the thick fur, but didn’t penetrate the leather. Praise the Thunderer.
Untangling his legs from the cloak took more time than he had. His boots were gouged as though he had shuffled through a briar of chisels. His knees and ankles began to burn like flowing lava. He hoped he hadn’t sprained anything.
At least he still had both gloves, and his padded boot was still attached to his ankle. He’d never be able
to trudge through the snow without it. His stump already ached from the cold.
Howling wind blasted past him, nearly knocking him flat again.
Viper gritted his teeth and leaned into the gale. A little wind couldn’t stop him. He had too much work to do. He grabbed a fistful of serdil pelt and used it to cushion his hands from the thorns.
He inched his way across the top of the bramble, humping the thick cloak under him before stretching out over it.
His concentration was so intense, he barely noticed when the wind faded away. His world centered around shifting the cloak and avoiding the longest thorns.
Two-inches of snow coated his shoulders before he reached solid ground.
Trembling like an aspen leaf, Viper crept off the edge of the bramble and stared up the mountain. The slope was white and featureless.
Still no Lorel. No Tsai’dona. No help.
They’d never find him now. The tracks of his fall were completely covered. He was on his own.
He shrugged and staggered to his feet. Thunderdrums, his knees hurt. He limped a few steps before deciding his legs would hold his weight. He ached all over from stone bruises. His shivers wouldn’t stop. He lapped the cloak over his chest and held it tight.
At least he wasn’t completely frozen. He needed to thank Tsai’dona again for stitching his new serdil-fur trousers and boots. His light-weight town boots would be all holes by now. His foot ached from the cold, even through the layers of fur, and the pain in his stump didn’t bear thinking about.
He hoped the girls had found a lot of firewood. No, he hoped they had enough sense to build a fire in the stove inside wagon. He intended to cuddle up against that stove until the Kyridon insisted they start traveling again.
An image of himself snuggling with a potbellied stove made him grin. Viper lifted his chin and began the long climb back to camp.
Snow crunched behind him.
It sounded like human footsteps. Had Lorel found him after all? He turned and raised one hand. “About time you got here.”
A huge club swung down at him.
Viper ducked and fell on his rump. “Hey, what’s this about?”
Serpent's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 3) Page 20
