by Ross Turner
“Just a feeling.”
“I feel it too.” Ayva said rubbing the back of her neck lightly, she had also made her way close to the fire and Zanriath tended to the horses. “The air feels heavier.” She had almost fully recovered from her slow morning start and was much more alert now, the cold having chilled and sharpened her senses.
“Let’s get some food.” Zanriath suggested, automatically delving into the saddle-packs they still carried. They had relied considerably less on them than they’d originally thought they’d need to, but Isabel had a strong suspicion that would soon change. Her suspicions were confirmed as the storm brewing outside picked up intensity and was soon wailing at the entrance to their cave. Zanriath looked across and stuck his head outside briefly before reporting that they would probably have to get used to it.
As the three set about preparing their evening meal Ayva and Isabel questioned Zanriath as to just how well he knew these mountains, a little worried that they might wander off course if this bad weather persisted, or if indeed they would even get out of this cave. They asked and he graciously replied, quite extensively, explaining virtually every nook and cranny of each pass and ridge, the specific dangers of precarious glaciers, and even the seemingly unpredictable weather patterns.
“My best guess is that this storm will last through until tomorrow, and it’ll keep getting worse until about midday. Then it should clear and we’ll have a chance to reach Dragon’s Peak, and hopefully make it out of the mountains before it comes back and settles. We’re just going to have to wait it out.” He explained.
“Settles? For how long?” Isabel asked worriedly.
“About a month.” Their faces looked a little stricken with concern at that point. Ayva was next to speak.
“And how long is our window to see Ormath and get back?”
“Presuming we start at noon tomorrow…we’ll have about a day. The storm’s moving west. It’ll hit the west shore and move north up and round the mountains. Then it’ll be forced back down south, but it’ll stay over the mountains for about a month until it scatters to each coastline.”
“Can we travel during the night?” Ayva asked.
“We’re going to have to.” Zanriath replied. “I don’t like to, but we don’t really have a choice - we can’t afford to wait out that storm. We’ll leave as soon as possible tomorrow, but it will be a later start so make use of the time to sleep. I can’t imagine we’re going to get any decent rest for the next few days at least.” The girls both agreed and soon the fire in the centre of the cave was burning intensely and they all lay beside it on makeshift beds of clothes.
The fire gave off no smoke and was unnaturally warm; a kind retreat from what Isabel knew was surely an unbearable cold outside.
She lay with Zanriath to her back, his body moulded to the shape of hers. He was already asleep and his steady breathing comforted her. His arm was tucked tightly round her side and entwined with hers. The soft crackling of his fire was also relaxing, even considering their situation. For the first time since they entered the mountains she thought of Ben and Zhack.
The realisation that they had slipped her mind made her feel guilty at first, but the more she thought on it, the more she was sure she wouldn’t have been allowed to dwell on them any further even if she’d wanted too. Ayva was asleep as well now, just to the other side of the fire, and she looked content and comfortable.
Her next thought was of her task. For the first time she thought more seriously about the prospect of standing head-to-head with Demon-Lord Depozi - her God, and having to fight Him. At first the concept had been overwhelming, but she considered it more rationally now, gently touching the amulet at her neck. Why were they in the mountains? Surely something would happen here that would give her more answers? Something that would give her a better chance? She realised she needn’t be worried. Ironically, though it had crushed her at first, the boys’ death had enlightened her, and she knew it was much more than just simple coincidence. She continued to wonder if anything was indeed coincidence, or if it was just a useful way of explaining what is, to most people, unexplainable.
Whatever happened, no matter how bad things seemed, she would eventually face Depozi, and they would be evenly matched. Otherwise there would be no point in going to such lengths to ensure the meeting happened in the first place, if it were going to be one-sided.
She shuffled as close to her Zanriath as she could, holding his sleeping hand tightly. She stroked his fingers tenderly before kissing each one and closing her eyes, comforted by the conclusions she’d arrived at, sure that it was part of her reason for being here, certain that, without the cold and the storm and the fire and the odd openness of their temporary dwelling, her conclusions would not have been drawn, and she would not have so easily cast her doubt from her mind.
‘Well done Isabel.’ The kind voice that could not have belonged to a God echoed calmly through her thoughts, and she slowly fell to sleep with a contented smile touching her lips.
33
Ayva jerked violently in her sleep and her eyes shot open, laying sight first of all upon the still roaring fire only feet from where she lay. She was sweating profusely and breathing heavily, her heart pounding rapidly against her chest. The storm still screamed outside and sounded much fiercer now, but it wasn’t the sound of the wind that had woken her. She looked over to Isabel and Zanriath, lying so peacefully together by the fire, Zanriath with his arms round her and her hands clasped lovingly in his.
It was her angel who had woken her. Her mind raced, flashing back to that night in Hinaktor when her angel had come to her. She remembered that Isabel had killed him in her dream, but then he’d returned. He’d seemed so real that it had to be true. She hadn’t spoken of it with anyone after the dream; it had all slipped away so quickly. She remembered how he had turned on her. Even now she felt his hatred.
But when she was asleep, when she dreamt, that hatred was gone. He pleaded for her to help him, to save him from Isabel, but she had resisted, remembering how she’d nearly killed her dear friend and how he had so desperately wanted to kill her.
But even now, as Ayva stood, looking down on Isabel and Zanriath, so happy together, jealousy coursed through her - the root of all evil. Why couldn’t she be with her angel? Why could Isabel have everything while she was left with nothing? Isabel hadn’t been protecting her, she had been preventing her, preventing her from being with her beloved, leaving her all alone in this world with apparently only one thing in her future: a painful sacrifice for Isabel’s sake, so that she could have her way.
Suddenly Ayva felt very alone, alone and used.
She reached for her blade.
It felt unusually light in her grasp and her flickering reflection in the smooth metal stared back at her with deep resolve. This was her chance. Her chance to take control of her own life once again and make things the way they were before Isabel had interfered.
Isabel wasn’t going to help her get revenge on the demons for killing her family, she just wanted everything for herself, and she was going to use her to get it. Well not anymore.
Her angel smiled lovingly at her, urging her to take back her freedom.
She stood menacingly over Isabel, now gripping the handle of her sword so tightly that her knuckles turned pale.
‘Ayva. This isn’t what you want.’ Her eyes widened and she took a faltering step back.
“Who’s there?” She challenged, turning on the spot, scanning the cave.
‘Don’t do this Ayva. You know it isn’t right.’
‘Leave me alone! Whoever you are! It’s not fair!’ She somehow understood that the voice was only in her mind and didn’t speak the words aloud now. She didn’t want to wake Isabel.
‘She’s being used. She deserves better.’ It was her angel speaking now and her heart softened knowing he was protecting her.
‘No Depozi.’ The voice asserted firmly. Depozi? ‘You have just as much control as I, and you know perfectly w
ell that what you’re doing isn’t allowed.’
‘And I suppose you’re here to play big brother?’ Her angel sneered now. It had only taken Ayva a few moments to realise that the dispute was between brothers, Ormath and Depozi. She had never imagined such a thing between Gods.
‘I’m here just as I have been instructed. And now you must leave as you are about to be instructed. You won’t be allowed to escape Isabella’s coming dear brother.’ Depozi moved to retaliate but was cut short, doubling over as a searing pain ripped through His chest.
Almost at once Ayva let out a small cry and tried to run to his aid, but she remained steadfast, unable to move. ‘The time will come Ayva, for you to face your love, as your ally or as your enemy.’ Ormath’s voice was kind, and though she could not see Him, Ayva felt His presence strongly. It was something quite remarkable.
Her angel writhed on the floor in pain before shattering into a thousand pieces of her imagination and disappearing. Her breathing was short and sharp.
‘Shield yourself dear Ayva. Choose wisely.’ Ormath’s voice was fading beneath the whistling of the wind and the raging of the storm. ‘Remember who your true friends are.’ And He was gone.
Ayva’s legs buckled and she fell to the floor, suddenly exhausted. A flurry of emotions washed over her, both good and bad, from jealousy and mistrust to confusion and uncertainty. She fell asleep once again, her dreams untroubled beside the apprehension of the difficulty of the task that lay so dauntingly in her path.
Would she cope, especially without help from Isabel or Ormath? Because somehow she knew, that when the time came to make her decision, it would either save or destroy her, and she would be all alone in the making of that choice, just as Isabel had been told that she would be alone.
It was just past noon and they had eaten heartily not long before emerging from the security of their hold. Just as Zanriath had predicted the sky had cleared beautifully, though Isabel could still see the storm off to the west, the clouds very dark and menacing.
Ayva had not been able to bring herself to speak of her episode, and felt that it was better kept quiet.
“Let’s not waste time.” Zanriath said resolutely. “That’s one thing we really don’t have now.” They set off with haste, mounting their horses whenever they could, pressing hard north for the last time.
“Are you sure that this storm will turn back round on us?” Isabel asked as they clambered over a rockier section of the pass.
“I think it fits with our being here too perfectly to leave that to chance.” He replied. She silently agreed and looked up ahead to Dragon’s Peak, magnificent in the clear sky under the glorious rays of the sun.
“I’ve noticed how that keeps happening…” Ayva noted, musing over her thoughts pensively. Zanriath only smiled in agreement.
As they trekked, Isabel spent much time examining the mountain passes in more detail while the weather allowed. She noted mainly how large chunks of many of the ridge walls seemed to be missing and looking to the array of boulders and rubble littered underfoot she swallowed hard.
“Zan…” She began, keeping her eyes glued to the walls all around them. “Are there many landslides here? Or I suppose would they be avalanches…?”
“Yes quite a few.” He admitted. “But what do you expect. This is a very unstable place.”
“And what are the chances of us being caught in one…?” He thought for a moment before replying.
“Quite small.” He finally concluded. She still didn’t like the fact that every wall looked as if it was about to tear apart and cascade down to crush them, but Isabel let the matter drop, deciding to try and focus her thoughts elsewhere, and she continued to do so for several hours. The journey wasn’t comfortable, though Isabel soon began to feel a strange sense of belonging amongst the peaks, and she was certain Zanriath had felt it from the moment they had arrived, even from the moment he had left home, all those years ago.
“It won’t be long now.” Zanriath announced some time later. They were making quite good progress. Looking ahead he made a few mental calculations. The peak was close now but looking up Isabel’s heart suddenly fluttered with mild panic.
“Do we have to climb to the top?” She asked quickly, not knowing quite how she’d managed to overlook such an obvious flaw in their thinking.
“I did the first time I came here.” Zanriath admitted, looking admirably up at the peak fading away into the sky. “But no. We need to go inside it.”
“Inside it?” Ayva questioned.
“Yes. We’re going underground.”
“What about the horses? They only went in the cave so easily because of the storm.” Ayva seemed speculative as she looked up ahead at the looming mountain.
“They’ll be fine Ayva, don’t worry.” Zanriath assured her.
“If you say so…” She conceded warily.
Zanriath had been right; it was a mere fifteen minutes before the enormous base of the mountain stood directly before them. With so many peaks and ridges all around Isabel found that it was deceiving as to how near or far they actually were from Dragon’s Peak.
She examined the beginning shallow gradient of the mountain, soon merging with the ridge from a peak to the east and becoming much steeper, and wondered exactly how Zanriath had managed to climb it in the first place. She thought of the helpless, lonely child she had originally imagined him as in a different light, seeing him from a new and much different perspective.
Zanriath examined a small crack in the side of the slope and scratched his cheek briefly before rubbing his hands together. As he thought for a minute Isabel realised how cold it still was, even without the wind and the storm. She sat deeper in her clothes and breathed deeply, the chilled air still feeling fresh and alive in her lungs.
“This way.” He concluded after a moment and led them round the slope to the left, walking now with their horses. As they followed the shape of the mountain round to the west it became steeper and Isabel saw yet more rubble littering their path. Examining the western side of Dragon’s Peak she saw tens if not hundreds of monstrous boulders perched precariously on ledges and overhangs, ready to break free and thunder to the ground with the smallest nudge. She was very relieved when Zanriath brought them to a halt and announced their arrival.
They stood before a large fracture splitting one enormous slab of rock in two, extending upwards about fifty meters and filled in completely with ice.
“Is this it?” Isabel asked quietly, not knowing quite why she kept her voice so low, but thinking it probably had something to do with the unstable rocks overhead.
“Yes.” Zanriath replied just as quietly and in a strangely respectful tone. His eyes looked distant and he approached the ice-filled fault. He laid a hand upon the ice and paused for a moment breathing deeply.
Then the ice beneath his hand began to melt and he pushed it further into the fault. Slowly at first, inch by inch, and then soon a foot and two feet, the ice around his hand began to melt, and Isabel saw a familiar blue flickering from his fingers as steam began to pour from the fault, rising up to the peak above. A steady stream of water accompanied the steam and began running down back the way they’d come, streaking smoothly over the rocky ground, soon slowing and freezing again.
Before long, from the floor up to a two metre high arc, the ice was completely gone and Isabel could see beyond the fracture. It was pitch black and looked daunting. Zanriath still stood with his hand outstretched though the ice before him had completely melted. A trail of blue flames erupted before him, illuminating the dark passageway, cutting deep into the side of the mountain. It was quite narrow, but still considerably wider than the passage Ayva had led them through to her campsite in Hinaktor.
The horses struggled and whinnied at the first sight of the next stage of their journey, but all of a sudden they seemed to settle and contentedly marched into the now glowing crevice, taking the lead before Zanriath and the girls. They looked at each other in bewilderment for a mome
nt and had the same thought.
The wind picked up and whipped about their cloaks. Zanriath looked up briefly and saw the storm gathering far to the northwest over the tips of the peaks.
“We’d better hurry.” He noted and Isabel and Ayva silently agreed, trailing just behind him as he plunged into the mountainside after their mounts, following the trail of blue flames down the centre of their path, soft and warm to the touch.
34
The shimmering blue light bounced off the smooth rocky walls and the fault narrowed to just a few metres above their heads. The clattering of horses’ hooves up ahead reverberated back and echoed all around them, filling Isabel’s ears with a constant ringing that was strangely harmonic.
The blue flames licked around her feet and legs, warming her gently as they continued deeper and deeper into their flickering abyss. She followed closely behind Zanriath and Ayva was by her side, both keeping close to him and stepping only on the flames, as if they provided security against the unknown, though, as they ventured further into the mountainside, that feeling of security and belonging grew stronger in Isabel’s heart, and she ran her hand almost affectionately along the cool wall as they walked.
It was surprising that the horses were leading them. Isabel had expected to have to leave them at the entrance. But strangely, as Isabel felt them sinking further into the heart of the mountain, a new sense of calm slowly drifted over her, and before long, the more she walked and the higher the flames rose around her legs, the safer she felt.
The narrow pass gradually began to open out and the noise of the horses’ hooves all around them came to an abrupt halt. Eventually they emerged from the stone corridor and entered an enormous cavern. It was rounded even more perfectly than the cave they’d used previously and Zanriath’s blue flames soared round the circular walls and created an encompassing ring of flickering light and safety.
