by Ashley Capes
He shivered. How inviting, the pines – whatever shelter they offered would be most welcome. And with no supplies, no climbing equipment, food or fire-making tools – they were in for a rough night.
“Can we close the opening?” Luis asked.
Never pointed to the dry riverbed. “If we pile up enough heavy rocks, we’d slow them at the very least. How’s your back feeling?”
“It’s shivering in anticipation.”
Never chuckled as he climbed into the riverbed.
Tsolde straightened. “Won’t that block the Tremasch?”
“He’ll find another home,” Never said as together, he and Luis lifted the first stone. The largest they could handle, they carried it to the edge of the bed then started to build a pile. Tsolde joined them, collecting smaller pieces and stacking them beside the tunnel.
Once they had enough stone, Never and Luis used the pile to help themselves lift the biggest ones out, grunting and muttering curses as they worked. Once the tunnel was half-covered, they returned for the stepping stones and added them to the top – sealing the opening as Tsolde added the smaller pieces, wedging them between gaps.
Never leant against the wall, breathing hard a moment. “Not bad.” It would hold up any who tried to follow for some time. Without any way to bring leverage of bodyweight, let alone grip the stones well, Jenisan’s men would be hard-pressed to clear the blockage.
With luck, they’d give up and seek a different path.
Or head back.
Which might mean trouble for Elina... yet Jenisan would be disappointed, yes. Not crazed, surely? She was a smart girl; she’d be able to take care of herself.
He made to push himself from the wall but his limbs were slow to respond. How long since he’d slept? No matter – he had to keep moving. If they tried to set up a camp, they’d all freeze and die from exposure while they slept. “We have to keep walking,” Never said.
“How long?” Tsolde asked. Her hair still clung to her head, braid glistening.
“Until we dry off or come across a nice, warm forest fire,” he said.
“Into the trees then?” Luis asked. “I think I see a trail.”
Never waved a hand. “Lead on.”
The wood on the opposite side of the dry riverbed climbed with the mountain, pine needles littering the ground. Enormous branches spread over the trail, blocking the stars. The path twisted back around on itself, sending them downhill for a little while. When it began to climb again, Luis stopped, flipping his spear into his grip.
A white owl screeched, flying soundlessly overhead.
Luis chuckled then continued.
They moved higher into the wood.
Near midnight a waning moon peered through the needles and Never found himself blinking at the dark trail before him. His clothes had dried somewhat but the air still chilled him as he walked. Tsolde was muttering to herself and Luis strode on without complaint, soon slipping into a crouch and waving them forward.
Never knelt beside Tsolde. “Luis?”
He pointed with his spear, moonlight glinting on the blade. “I think there’s a village ahead. See, beyond the fallen tree.”
A tiny glow rested between dark shapes. They might have been buildings, they might have been more trees and the light was hard to pinpoint. Was it simply moonlight reflecting off something? A slight breeze rustled the needles, bringing with it the faint scent of woodsmoke.
“Woodsmoke,” he said.
“Is it safe?” Luis asked.
“Some of the mountain-folk are quite standoffish,” Tsolde said, frowning toward where the glow had been.
“We might have to risk it – we need shelter,” Never said as he pulled himself upright courtesy of a low-hanging branch. “My legs are beginning to feel like water.”
Never drew a knife and led the way along the trail, closing in on the first large shadow – which was a hut. His boots crunched and he stopped. No movement or sound from the building.
He lifted his foot and squinted in the dark.
Something pale, thin... bones.
“Tread carefully,” he said, keeping his voice low.
Further along, more bones, strewn about the path between buildings. All small and thin, most birds or small animals, it seemed. Fragile rib cages were broken and skulls peeked from piles of needles. In a patch of moonlight ahead, a collection had been arranged into something of a small shrine.
A clearing appeared.
Ringed by more shadowy shapes of houses, it was easier to discern uneven thatch in the rooves, sagging eaves and boarded-up windows.
Deserted? Or something worse? The clearing appeared to be a bone-yard, littered with slender bones, the larger pieces made into small piles. Some were crowned by skulls – he saw fox, deer and even something that might have been a cracked bear-skull.
“What is this place?” Tsolde asked.
“Abandoned, I hope,” Never said. He approached the nearest home, its door ajar and called softly within.
Nothing.
He nudged the door open with the butt of a knife. Rusted hinges screamed and he winced. But nothing stirred within. The moonlight revealed an empty floor and another collection of bones; this time rodents, which was obvious, since one pile had been arranged into an accurate reconstruction of a rat.
“Luis, start checking the other houses. We’re looking for something secure and easily defended,” he said. Tsolde looked up at him. “You’re staying with me,” he said.
She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t do that.”
“Try to protect you?”
“I can protect myself – I shouldn’t have to remind you of all people.”
“Humour me while we’re here and once we’ve found a good spot you can take first watch.”
She caught his arm. “Never.”
He met her fierce gaze and couldn’t help smiling. Her mother had the same look whenever she’d tried to convince Tsolde to follow her wishes. “I’m not being careful because I doubt your ability to take care of yourself.”
“Then let me help.”
“I will. And don’t forget who got us out of trouble back there. How do you know so much about rock-turtles?” he said as he led her to the next home and glanced inside. Another bone collection – this time they formed a pattern where they rested upon a table.
“A regular. He’s a hunter and he stays at the Stag once a season and he’s a good storyteller.”
“Well, I’m glad he is.”
“Me too,” she said. The tension had left her voice. A good thing too – he didn’t need her pushing so hard.
“How about this one?” Luis called from the opposite side of the clearing.
He’d found a two storey inn built beneath a huge pine, its limbs spreading over the roof, generations of needles covering the thatch. At least it had a better-looking roof than the other homes.
“There’s a stove; looks like it’ll burn. We can use dried needles for kindling and there’s plenty of fuel around,” he said. “The upper floor gives a good vantage point of most of the village too.”
“Let’s try it out,” Never said. “Can’t be worse than any of the others.”
Luis gave a grimace. “Well, there are some strange bones in this place.”
“Stranger than out there?” Tsolde asked.
“You decide,” Luis said, pushing the door open with one arm.
Chapter 7.
The first room was empty of all but dust on creaking floorboards. Two doors led out – one into a cloakroom where a single, oiled cloak hung on a peg. Musty, but still whole.
The common room, in contrast, was full.
Men, women and children sat at square tables in the silence of death, their bones pale in the moonlight. Some held empty cups, others had been posed as if talking. One mother had an arm resting around the shoulder of a smaller skeleton; and at the bar, the innkeeper’s skull had fallen askew.
Never shivered. Who would do such a thing and why?
“Then we must be on our guard,” he said. “What of the stove?”
Luis took them behind the bar and into the kitchen. Empty shelves and cold steel only, with a giant table between. No knives or ladles, not even a frying pan remained. But the stove did appear functional, with flint and tinder in a box nearby, so Never sent Luis and Tsolde outside to collect fuel while he barricaded the back door.
Upstairs he found enough bedding in the empty rooms to make the kitchen floor comfortable and then checked on the room with the unmade bed. An empty water flask and a blunted dagger lay beside the cot.
He crouched, lifting the blade. No unique markings. Who had slept here? Why had they left? And more importantly, why visit such a place to begin with? Perhaps it was a final survivor of some calamity that had befallen the village. If so, was the person who’d slept here the same who’d made bone-shrines all over the village? The scene in the common room?
Never returned to the kitchen to find a flickering light. Luis had started the fire and Tsolde was laying her still-damp tunic across the table near the stove. Her undergarments clung and revealed a little too much of her figure.
For years now he’d been watching out for her, whenever he’d passed through Lenan he made time to visit, and it was a little unnerving to see her changing. He’d grown accustomed to thinking of her as a child, despite evidence to the contrary. After all, she’d been running the Young Stag for years now. He should have known better.
“Stop staring,” she told him without looking up from where she was arranging her boots before the stove.
“You’ll catch a cold.”
“Not with that fire,” she said as she moved to her section of floor and pulled the blankets over her with a frown, no doubt at the musty scent of the unused fabric. “And I’m taking the last watch, so my clothes will be dry by then.”
“And I’ll take first watch,” Luis said. He loaded a few larger pieces into the stove and gave a little nod of satisfaction.
“Wake me when it’s my turn then,” Never said, then removed and arranged his own cloak, tunic and boots before crawling into his makeshift bed where he lay back, the crackling of the fire washing over him, its growing warmth a blessing.
Even the strange bones were not enough to keep him from sleep.
***
“All clear,” Luis said when he woke Never.
“Good. I’m not in the mood for a surprise.”
Luis grinned, keeping his voice soft. “I left that cloak up there too. It’s no stove but it’s better than nothing.”
“Thanks.”
Never climbed the stairs and found the cloak draped over a chair which Luis had obviously taken from the common room. It had been set before the dusty window-pane and Never shivered as he wrapped the garment around his shoulders.
Only the stars graced the clearing below, the bones hard to discern, the other buildings mostly lost in shadow. If anyone was out there, they were holed up somewhere themselves.
The watch passed slowly and he stood to check downstairs twice, returning to his chair each time. The seat was hard and unforgiving – that and the cold kept him awake at least. Never lifted his legs and stretched them on the window-sill, releasing a long sigh.
“That’s my cloak.”
The voice had spoken in Hanik, soft and raspy. The following words seemed to be about an arrow.
Never froze.
Had Jenisan’s men caught up to them? Never might not have understood all of what the voice said, but he answered as best he could. “My Haniker is poor.”
“How about Marlosi?” the voice asked, the words clear but slow, as if unused for a long time.
“Better.”
“Are you planning to stay in Garmedl long then?”
Never frowned. The fellow didn’t seem to be one of Elina’s men. What did he want? “Just until morning. We are merely travelling through.”
“Ah. Like all the rest.” A creak of wood. “Few come to Garmedl any more, you see. I’m waiting for the others to return home.”
The other villagers? Never resisted the urge to turn. There was still the threat of the arrow and who knew what else. The fellow had entered the room without making a single sound.
“Are they due to return soon?”
“Any day now.” Another creak, as if the man shifted his weight. “So, stranger. What brings Marlosi folk like you two and a young Hanik girl together in these parts?”
“We’re heading for the Iron Pass,” Never said. “But an avalanche forced us to take a bit of a detour. Would you know of a swift path we might take by chance?”
“Might do. Head north out of the village and take the trail marked with an old snake. You’d better watch out however, there’s a strange fellow up that way. Seen him a few times and he doesn’t like anyone going near his caves.”
“We’ll steer clear of him then, thank you.”
“As well you should.” He cleared his throat. “Stranger, I want to ask. Have you seen...”
Never waited.
“No, never mind. I’ll check myself, seems best. Don’t want to trouble you folk.”
“Can I help?”
“Just little Ali’s pet; she’s missing.”
Ali? What pet? “I don’t mind helping search, but wouldn’t it be easier in the daylight?” he asked.
Nothing. Was the fellow mulling it over? Raising his bow, drawing the arrow back?
“Hello?”
Never turned his head, slowly.
An empty doorframe behind him. He stood, letting the cloak fall from his shoulders. Not a single trace of the man. Never crept into the hallway and followed it to the next room. Within, an open window and just beyond it, one of the arms of the great pine. The needles were still, their scent sharp in the night.
Where had the man gone?
Never returned to his post and leant up against the window. Had that been a flicker of movement in the house with the rodent bones? Too hard to tell. He strained his ears in the dark but there were no sounds either, just a faint snore from Luis below. Never sat back. Odd.
When it was time to wake Tsolde he warned her about the man. “I don’t think he’ll return or that he even means us harm somehow, but be prepared.”
She nodded. “I will.”
He handed her the cloak then added a few more pieces of wood to the fire before lying back and closing his eyes. If the stranger was waiting for the village to return, it seemed he’d be waiting for a long time.
And maybe that explained the skeletons.
Chapter 8.
Standing in the common room, Never groaned as he rubbed his temples. A fitful remainder to his night’s sleep left him battling an aching head but water would probably help. The stove had done its job drying everything out; shame that included his mouth.
“No more visits from strange men then?” he asked Tsolde. She was tying sheets together into a makeshift knapsack, to which Luis was adding flint and tinder. A similarly constructed sheet seemed to contain blankets.
“None,” she said. “Sure you didn’t imagine him?”
He shook his head. “Not a chance. I’d remember if a man appeared and told me he’d made these shrines.”
Luis paused. “The man told you that?”
“Not in so many words, though I have a theory about the village of Garmedl,” Never said. “But I need water first. Luis, check the back trail, I’ll see what I can find in the way of water. Tsolde, finish up here and join me.”
“Right.”
The rising sun cast a green tint across the clearing before the inn, revealing the grime and dirt clinging to many of the bones. As he’d assumed in the night, all were animals. The little shrines had not been disturbed overnight and there was no sign of fresh animal droppings anywhere. Did even animals avoid the village?
&
nbsp; None of the houses contained water barrels or anything else of use but a well-worn path led between two buildings and ended at a dry riverbed. The same waterway they’d found near the rock-turtle’s lair, no doubt.
And maybe that explained why Garmedl was deserted.
Footsteps approached. Tsolde moved along the trail, arms full of their knapsacks. “What did you find?”
“The river is empty here. Something must have blocked it higher up. That’s why the people left the village.”
She nodded. “But it doesn’t explain the skeletons.”
“Perhaps it does.”
“How?”
“Our mysterious friend is waiting for people who will never return. I think he tried to make up for it in a somewhat troubling manner.”
Her expression fell. “If that’s true... it’s sad.”
“Yes.”
He continued his search, heading north of the village where he found a crossroad – a slab of chiselled rock shaped as a snake had been placed in the centre of the trail heading northeast.
It left two other directions, both marked by a wooden sign.
Tsolde pointed to the fading words. “King’s Road to the east and west lies another village – Drylh. Perhaps that’s where the people of Garmedl went.”
“And the snake?” Never asked.
“No idea,” she said. “It looks like a warning, doesn’t it?”
“Indeed. Let’s find Luis before we make any decisions, but our mystery man did suggest the Snake-path was a detour we might take.”
“Do you trust him?”
“Well, I don’t imagine he would want to mislead us.”
“That’s something.”
Luis was waiting back in the village clearing. “No sign of pursuit,” he said.
“Let’s hope they’ve given up on the tunnel then.”
“But I did find a cemetery,” Luis said. “Which you’ll want to see. A rivulet runs beside it too.”
“More surprises?” Never asked.
“For a cemetery, it’s pretty empty.” Luis led them down another path, this one running behind the inn.
As they walked, Never caught glimpses of headstones of old wood, rotting where they stood. When he entered the graveyard he sighed. Empty holes beneath most of the markers. A shovel still stood in the earth beside one grave, silvery cobwebs strung within the handle. The sound of trickling water filled the hush.
