Now he was getting somewhere.
But before he took another hit, there was a cracking noise as the rocks above began to give. And then the noise grew louder, rippling up the long deep crevice above him as the ice fractured.
He looked up and suddenly it seemed like the whole cliff had started to shift.
‘Shit.’
He flung away his axe and lunged for the handhold to his right. But suddenly everything looked the same. His ears filled with the roar of shearing rock, loud as thunder, bursting on him from above. He snatched for a handhold – any one would do. Then he had it and he looked up and the sky was collapsing on his head.
There was no time.
Jump! Did he shout the word or only think it?
The cliff face rumbled under his hands. He felt the ledge under his toes, sucked in a breath and then leaped as far and high as his legs would send him.
The whole world was crashing down in a cascade of ice and thunder. And him with it. He felt a beautiful moment of weightlessness – falling, falling into the white abyss below.
So this is what it is to fly!
And then there was a shock of cold – and after that, nothing.
Erlan pulled Wrathling from the last of the Nefelung. There were bodies all around. Pathetic things now. Each one the stain of a life that used to be. But was death so much worse for them than the life he’d seen them lead?
He was breathing hard. Too tired to feel any pain. He looked across at Lilla. She was on her knees, head hanging, blood splattered across the rags of her dress. But alive.
Whatever Kai had done had worked.
Snow dust was still falling in glittering sparkles all around. But there were no more Nefelung to fight. And they were alive.
The roar had filled the sky. But when the worst of the shattered ice and rock had settled, it revealed a great heap of stone and scree and smashed icicles sloping from the foot of the icefall to the cliff nearly twenty feet above them. Higher still, there was a large smooth hole where the huge slab had fallen away.
The gateway to Niflagard was gone.
And so was Kai.
There’s the justice of the gods for you – I sought death, yet I’m alive. Kai sought life and he’s dead. For all his wounds, nothing hurt so much as his heart just then. Somehow the lad had weaselled his way in there.
He grimaced, wiping his sword on his filthy breeches, and turned back to the princess. Her face was a mask of exhaustion. ‘I saw him,’ she said, voice hardly a whisper.
‘Who?’
‘Kai.’
Erlan shook his head in confusion. ‘What? Where?’
‘Over there.’ She pointed to a deep drift of snow a little way right of the heap of fallen rocks. ‘He fell clear.’
But Erlan was already lumbering through the snow, wading into the drift, heart in mouth. And there, in the deeper snow, was the perfect outline of a body. He dragged himself over to it and peered down.
There was Kai, face down, unmoving.
Erlan reached in, grabbed his belt and hauled him out of the hole. He turned him over. The boy’s hair and scraggy stubble were plastered with snow. His mouth was contorted with pain, but his eyes were peaceful as a slumbering babe.
‘Kai!’ Erlan shook him. ‘Kai!’
Nothing. He shook him again, harder this time. ‘Kai!’
The boy groaned and rolled his head.
‘Hahaah!’ cried Erlan. ‘Kai – you mad little bugger! You’re alive!’
‘Am I?’ the lad moaned, blinking. ‘Keep saying that till I believe it.’
‘You’re alive – you lucky son of a bitch!’
‘My face. It smarts like Hel. . .’
Erlan could hardly contain his delight. ‘If it’s your face you’re worried about, I’m afraid you’re as ugly as ever.’
‘Since when did you grow a sense of humour?’ said Kai, gingerly brushing the ice off his chin.
‘About when you grew a pair of bloody wings! By the hanged – you must have fallen forty feet!’
‘Did it work?’
Erlan grabbed his scruff and hauled him to a sitting position. ‘See for yourself.’
For a while Kai sat there, admiring his work, a grin slowly working across his mouth. ‘That. Is. Fine. . . Yep – just fine!’
Lilla had waded over to them. She looked gaunt as a ghost, her eyes wide with shock. ‘Is he all right?’
‘His body’s in one piece,’ answered Erlan, ‘but his mind’s clearly cracked.’
Kai sat in the snow, blinking artlessly, but alive, his hair a crazy splay of white spikes, his tunic caked with powder.
‘That’s a rare kind of courage you have,’ said Lilla, seeming truly bewildered by what Kai had just done. ‘Some might say a rare kind of madness.’ She gave his shoulder a squeeze. ‘I’ll be sure to tell my father what you did.’ She turned to the jagged debris. Her voice hardened. ‘That place is full of evil.’
She glared at where the entrance used to be, then closed her eyes tight and stretched out her arms.
The others watched.
Suddenly words came pouring out of her mouth, words flooding in an undulating stream of sound, words far beyond their understanding.
They listened, absorbed, until she gave a sudden shriek, clenched her fists and thrust them at the debris. She stood like that a while, perfectly still, until, very slowly, she let her arms drop.
At last, her face relaxed and she opened her eyes.
‘What the Hel are you doing?’ asked Kai, bemused.
‘It’s a telling my mother taught me. For sealing things.’
‘So they’re stuck down there now?’
‘I’d say a few thousand marks of rock would keep them in there just fine,’ said Erlan, irritably. ‘I don’t see the need for all this jabber in some witch’s tongue.’
‘It’s not jabber,’ she protested. ‘It’s a language my mother taught me that she learned from the spirit world. It has power beyond the understanding of men. Beyond what I understand myself.’
‘Then what fucking use is it?’ snarled Erlan.
‘The telling is to seal in the things unseen,’ she snapped back. ‘You saw the evil down there.’
‘Come on, master,’ said Kai. ‘You know, she means—’
‘You did the same down there, didn’t you?’ Erlan’s eyes flashed fiercely. ‘Spewing up your witch’s prattle all over me.’
‘And it saved your life!’ she exclaimed. ‘You should be grateful.’
‘I’ll be grateful if you keep your damned sorcery away from me. Spells and curses – I’ve had a bellyful of ’em.’
‘My tellings speak only to heal or protect. I never speak to anyone’s harm. My mother—’
‘Your mother is dead. Dead!’ cried Erlan. ‘You understand? I don’t care what she taught you.’
‘How dare you speak to me like that?’ Lilla’s blood-streaked features hardened into anger. ‘Anyway, you know nothing of the realm of the dead.’
‘So people keep telling me. But I know this much. I know the dead don’t come back.’ He turned away and added in a whisper. ‘The dead will never come back.’
She shook her head in frustration. ‘Just take me to my father. I’m sure he will reward you richly. Isn’t that why you’re here?’
‘Think whatever you will,’ murmured Erlan, looking away down the hill.
‘Well,’ broke in Kai, clapping his hands. ‘Those ugly little brutes are shut up in there good and proper, one way or t’other! And aren’t we all bloody heroes, eh?’ He looked eagerly between the princess and Erlan. ‘You too, my lady! So then – what now, master?’
Erlan turned. Lifted his sword and swept it wearily over the bodies strewn about them. ‘We burn them. And then. . . we take her home.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
When Erlan called a halt, they had been following the river for about a league.
Kai had scouted ahead and found a campsite close by the river under some tall pines. It had
only been two or three hours on horseback, but Lilla felt nearly delirious with fatigue. Kai had produced food enough to strengthen her till nightfall. But the memory of that place wouldn’t be as easy to shift as an empty stomach.
Erlan had hardly said a word since they’d ridden away from the horrible stench of burning bodies. She’d noticed him cradling his arm most tenderly. If he felt anything like her, he’d be happy to curl up in the snow and die, there and then. Though after all they’d been through, that was probably a bit of a waste.
Her feet were the worst. She’d bound them with a few strips of cloth, cut from a cloak they’d brought for her, but that was hardly enough to stop the slow creep of pain up her calves from the cuts and bruises and swelling. Being astride a horse was some relief. But now it was time to dismount.
She looked down, reluctant to surrender her distance from the ground. Dreading the pain. Too stubborn to ask for help.
Stupid. Why do I have to do everything myself?
She just did.
‘Something not to your liking with this spot, Princess?’ asked Erlan, tying off his horse next to Kai’s. The boy was already off searching for firewood.
‘No, I. . .’ She looked around. ‘It will serve.’
When she didn’t move, he sighed. ‘A princess requires a hand down, that it?’ He came closer and proffered up his arms. ‘Come on then.’
‘I can manage on my own,’ she said stiffly.
‘Suit yourself.’ He turned away.
She swung her leg over the horse’s withers, biting her lip in anticipation. She dropped to the ground. Pain roared up her legs. She whimpered, staggering against the horse.
Erlan could hardly fail to notice. ‘Come on – take my arm.’
‘I’m fine,’ she insisted, swallowing the tremor in her voice. She lifted the blanket off her horse, meaning to dump it with the rest of their gear, but on the first step, her knees folded into the snow.
‘And you say I’m stubborn,’ he growled, scooping her up and swinging her into his arms. When she didn’t answer, he just snorted, carried her over to the pile of furs and put her down. ‘You sit here.’
She was too tired to argue. Too tired to find some proud retort. She sat huddled up, while Kai chased around gathering more wood and Erlan lit the fire. Before long its familiar heat was warming her face and the soles of her battered feet. It felt good beyond description.
‘Don’t you move a muscle, my lady,’ crowed Kai. ‘I’ll soon whistle you up a dish worthy of your father himself.’ He insisted his master should do no more than her, so Erlan soon limped over and dropped down beside her.
He had in his hands a knife, an undershirt and his sheepskin coat.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘You need these more than I do.’
‘Won’t you be cold without that?’ She gestured at the coat.
‘Out here, I’m cold with it – cold without it. So what’s the difference? Give me your feet.’
Hesitatingly, she moved them towards him. He took them gently and, one by one, undid the bindings and peeled away the cloth. She winced at the cold air. The firelight revealed soles rubbed raw, swollen with blisters, mottled with bruises.
‘By the hanged.’ The stranger gave a low whistle. ‘It’s a wonder you can even walk.’
‘Like you.’ She’d said it before she’d even thought it, and immediately regretted her sharp tongue. Why can’t I keep my stupid mouth shut sometimes?
She saw he was offended. But this time he only raised his eyebrows and murmured, ‘If you can bear just a little more of the cold . . .’ He didn’t wait for an answer, but took a handful of snow and began cleaning the wounds. She bit her lip, groaning at the fresh torment. But he was soon done, drying each foot carefully, cutting the undershirt into bandages and wrapping them up.
Then he began carving up his coat to fashion a pair of sheepskin coverings. ‘These’ll last you until. . . well, as long as they last.’ By the time he’d finished binding them tight with twine, the pain had eased a good deal and her feet felt snug.
‘Thank you.’ She meant it.
‘Nothing more than my duty. For the daughter of my king,’ he added, voice laced with sarcasm. He sheathed his knife and sat back, gazing into the fire, cradling his arm.
‘Let me see that.’ She nodded at his arm.
‘You?’
‘Of course, me,’ she said impatiently, trying to get hold of it.
‘It’s fine,’ he protested. ‘I’ve had worse.’
‘Any worse and your arm would fall off, idiot. Show me.’
So he showed her, pulling off his tunic and draping a fur across his shoulders. The wound was a long, deep cut from the back of his bicep to the crook of his elbow. Much of the blood was congealed, but for a dark line glistening down the middle.
‘It’s deep,’ was her verdict. She peered closer. ‘Although . . .’
‘What is it?’
She looked up at him. ‘When did you receive this?’
‘You know when. Just before I found you. Why?’
‘The healing is already well advanced. Strange. . .’ she muttered. It didn’t make sense. Then again, there was still plenty of need for her skill. ‘Anyway, it should be cleaned and bound.’ She began dabbing at the wound with a damp scrap of linen, feeling his eyes on her as she smoothed away the dried blood.
‘Your lips are moving,’ he murmured.
‘Oh.’ She hadn’t even realized she was doing it.
‘More sorcery?’ He cocked an eyebrow.
‘Just a habit, I guess.’
‘You do know you’re dabbling in something you don’t understand?’
‘I understand it a Hel of a lot better than you,’ she replied, indignant. ‘So if you don’t mind. . .’
‘You promised.’ She noticed a smile flicker across his mouth.
‘Did I? I don’t remember that. Besides, men don’t know what’s good for them.’ She felt the trace of a smile on her own lips.
‘And you do, I suppose?’
She looked up, fixing him with her gaze. ‘Yes. I do.’
He gave a low chuckle. ‘Hel – I’m glad someone does.’
‘Hold still.’ She bound the wound with the strip of linen, ignoring his yelp when she pulled it tight.
‘Now,’ she said. ‘Take down your breeches.’
‘What? I know you’re used to servants doing your bidding, but—’
‘Your leg – I must look at that too.’
He gave an ironic snort. ‘I think this oversteps my duty, Princess. I’m pretty sure your father would agree.’
‘Don’t be so coy. You must let me bind it. Unless you want to be limping for the next year?’
‘I already have a limp, as you’ve so graciously pointed out.’
She cursed inwardly. ‘Of course, I didn’t mean . . .’ What was it about this man that made her so clumsy with words? ‘Just let me bind it – for all our sakes. We need you strong. You flatter yourself that I care a barley crust for what you have under there.’
‘Steady on, my lady,’ piped up Kai. ‘You’ll hurt his feelings.’
‘You just keep to your damn cooking,’ growled Erlan.
‘Sure, sure,’ chuckled the boy.
‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Lilla snapped. ‘The wound needs dressing.’
He let out a long sigh. ‘Very well.’ He got awkwardly to his feet, unhitched his belt, unlaced his breeches and dropped them.
The firelight spilled over his thighs. But she averted her eyes from the absurdity between his legs. She had always thought men unclothed not much better than comic. Erlan was no different. On the other hand, the play of light over his skin was pleasing enough. At least, she imagined a lot of girls might think so. But for her. . . that kind of thing only led to wounds that never healed. Right now, she was interested in dressing one that might.
She traced a finger the length of the cut on his thigh. He sucked sharply on his teeth. ‘Cold hands.�
�� He smiled down at her. ‘Cold night, come to that.’
‘He’s just making excuses, my lady,’ sniggered Kai.
‘This wound is strange too,’ she said, ignoring their childish talk. ‘It was also deep, but it’s showing signs of healing already.’
‘It hurts bad enough.’
‘I’m sure,’ she said, cutting short her curiosity. ‘You’re lucky, though. I’ve seen many wounds, but none so sure to heal.’
‘I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.’
‘I guess you will.’ She disliked the way he picked at everything she said like some scab. Suddenly she wanted to be done with this. She set about tending to the cut, and in a short while she was binding it with a woollen shawl from the bundle they’d brought for her.
‘That should see you most of the way to my father’s halls,’ she said, as he pulled up his breeches.
‘Much obliged.’ He chuckled. ‘I don’t suppose many could claim to have been serviced by the daughter of the king.’
‘Listen – you don’t know anything about me,’ she snapped. ‘So I’d appreciate it if you kept your stupid japes to yourself.’ She didn’t like his familiar tone. Liked even less the assumptions he made about her.
‘As you wish.’ He shrugged, and they both settled back on the furs in silence.
She supposed there would be some talk. Some answers to her questions. Like why, out of all his men, her father had chosen this unlikely pair to rescue her. How had they found her? How had the stranger slain that horrible fiend?
But she was too weary to ask now. The answers would keep. Instead, she gazed into the fire, drinking in its heat.
Fire is life. . .
She had often thought that on her terrible journey through the snow.
‘Something the matter, my lady?’ asked Kai, interrupting her thoughts.
She realized she was frowning. ‘Just the fire. . . Would’ve been good to have heat like this when they carried me to that horrible place.’
No one said anything for a few moments.
Erlan was first to break the silence. ‘What happened, Princess? I mean from the beginning. . .’
She stared even harder into the embers crackling and spitting in the fire’s depths. And then she told her story. Of an early morning that began like so many, of the sense she was not alone. Sounds in the snow, shadows skulking in the trees. Of the figures surrounding her, those strange, strong hands reaching for her, slipping round her throat. Of her waking to incessant motion, the pain shooting up her back. Of the hard poles they bound her to, the tight bonds sawing at her flesh.
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