The Paladins of Naretia
Page 9
*
Ol?rin had not looked up to see where he was going for some time. The path had all but disappeared, and now they were left to pick out stable footing amongst the sharp juts of ice and rock. On more than one occasion, Ol?rin had placed his fur boot on what he thought was a flat bit of solid ice, only to have it fall away from under him.
Aramus too was having a difficult time climbing the mountain. Although he seemed to have regained the use of his lungs, he was visibly weaker and often needed to steady himself against large boulders of ice as they climbed. It was only when Aramus disappeared from Ol?rin's periphery with a grunt, did the old man stop his assent.
"Aramus," Ol?rin shouted, rushing to look over the large chunk of ice the young man had disappeared behind.
Clinging onto the edge of the cliff, Aramus's feet were scrambling to find a foot hold while his wings flapped impotently in the thin air. Ol?rin extended his arm out over the edge and grabbed hold of the young man's jacket. With one mighty heave, he helped him back onto the ridge for the second time.
Aramus lay on his back for a few moments, breathing heavily.
"Thank you," he said. "It seems that the weaker I get, the stronger you become, old man."
"Indeed, but I suspect that it is only because we are getting closer to the Goddess Edwina," he replied, getting to his feet without so much as a creak from his old bones now. "It's a strange feeling really. It's like I have regained a couple of hundred years of my life. Maybe I should take this opportunity to show you a jig that I was famous for as a teenager."
"I'd rather you didn't," Aramus said, gesturing with his hand for the wizard to stop his sudden floundering of knobby knees and flat-footed tapping on the perilous ice.
"Aramus, you've hurt yourself," Ol?rin said, immediately grabbing hold of the young man's extended hand, and examining a small wound that oozed black blood.
"It's only a scratch. I think I'll live," he said, taking back his hand.
Ol?rin huffed audibly and turned his nose toward the sky in the indignation of not being allowed to mollycoddle the young man as he had done when he was a boy. It was only then that he saw what lay beyond the last ridge, and it made his eyes widen and his heart beat fiercely.
"Darzithal!" Ol?rin said in a whisper.
"Dar-what?"
"Look, up there on that plateau above us. Can you not see it? That, is Darzithal, the meeting place of the Gods and the mortals."
High above them on the very top of the mountain, the peak became oddly flat as though someone had cut the top off with a sharp sword. Perched on the plateau, an opaque and shimmering dome twinkled in the morning sunshine. It looked to be solid, like ice, not moving in its shape. But the surface swirled in small pearlescent eddies, as though it were made of turbulent water.
"Do you see?" Ol?rin asked, still staring open mouthed at the glorious sight.
"I do," Aramus replied impassively.
Ol?rin shot Aramus a pointed look.
"You do realise that Darzithal is an ephemeral place, only appearing at the decree of the Gods, don't you? The fact that it is here is a great thing, Aramus."
"If you say so," Aramus said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Goddess Edwina, give me strength." Ol?rin sighed in exasperation. "Come on then, I'm sure the Goddess is busy and can't wait around for us forever."
The two companions scaled the last of the precarious ridges until they stood on the more stable ground of the plateau. The light shining from the shimmering dome was almost too much for Ol?rin, who had to shield his eyes for a moment. Aramus also squinted against the bright light, but took a few steps closer to the dome. He reached out his hand to touch it.
Without warning, a bright and powerful spark of lightning shot out from the swirling wall and struck Aramus's outreached hand. He pulled it away and grimaced in pain, holding his hand close to his chest.
"It's broken. Either that, or no one is home and they don't want us poking around while their gone," Aramus said through gritted teeth.
Ol?rin looked between the dome and Aramus's injured hand. It was the same hand he had cut after nearly plummeting to his death earlier. Small rivers of dried blood still ran down his fingers. He couldn't believe after coming all this way, the Goddess would refuse them entry. After a moment, Ol?rin stepped toward the dome and pressed his hand on the shimmering wall. It was cool, soothing, and gave way at his touch.
"It is not broken," Ol?rin said sadly. "It is averse to having the blood of Dantet pass through it."
"Wonderful," Aramus grumbled. "So, what then, I wait outside like a dog while you have your little powwow with the royal highness of sulkiness?"
Ol?rin was on him instantly. He grabbed a handful of the black linen shirt Aramus wore under his jacket, and pulled him closer.
"You mind your tongue when you speak of the Goddess Edwina," he hissed. "She is the creator of life, the giver of love, and bears the sadness's of this world with the enduring strength of a mother. She has known the ultimate sadness of death, brought on by the jealous, wallowing actions of an egotistical God. Do not judge her for her preferences without having first felt her pain. Am I clear?"
"Perfectly," Aramus replied quietly.
"Now," he said, letting go of the young man and digging out a small glass bottle from the point of his hat. "I will be as quick as I can, but know that in there, time does not operate in the same manner as it does out here. So I do not know how long I will actually be."
Aramus nodded, having the look of a scolded child, and Ol?rin took a deep breath before he stepped through the shimmering wall.