There had been many lives lost during the climb, in part due to the sheer hellishness of the task, as well as the weakened condition that many warriors still found themselves facing after the voyage and the trek thus far. Two additional snow beast attacks had occurred as well. After a while, it was decided to stop passing reports of the fatalities to the front of the column. Grim as it was, they just became an accepted part of the assault.
As the fourth day of the climb began, Parnasus was convinced that he had made a grievous error in plotting his path. The doubts were made worse by the fact that they were now climbing into a fully-formed storm. Snow fell heavily, and it flew sideways in the screaming wind, almost cutting into any exposed flesh. Just as he was preparing to tell Cerah that he had led them the wrong way, Slurr cried out,
“Look there! I see the opening!”
The First-Elder turned to see where Slurr was pointing, and indeed through the nearly blinding curtain of snow he could just made out the dark mouth of the cave.
“We are here!” he cried out, greatly relieved. Slowly, they made their way up the last hundred yards to the narrow opening.
The interior of the cave was vast. Over the next hour, the army filed in, spreading out across the floor of the cavern. Slurr stood at the mouth, instructing the men to find a place to rest. Eventually, the entire force filled the enormous cavity. Parnasus made his way around the chamber’s perimeter, eventually finding the wide passage that he remembered. “This is the way to Surok,” he said to Cerah.
“We will let the men and women rest for another hour,” she said. “Then we will move in.” She was not happy that they were forced to repeatedly interrupt their progress but pushing the fighting force which had already suffered so greatly would just play into Surok’s hands. She refused to give him any advantage.
As it was, the hour seemed to pass in a heartbeat. Although they could have easily stayed where they were for much longer, the warriors dutifully got to their feet when directed to do so, and Slurr instructed the division leaders to form their troops into columns ten men abreast, as that was the width of the passageway into the mountain. Kern gave word that the dragons could once more revert to their full stature. They were interspersed among the soldiers, with one walking ahead of a platoon of maybe a few hundred men. They were large enough to nearly fill the tunnel, but there was sufficient space for them to move comfortably. Upon Cerah’s command, they surged in.
They marched for several hours. Parnasus remembered that in his youth they had begun to feel intense heat the farther they went into the mountain. This time, however, the temperature did not appreciably rise. Neither did he perceive the red glow which had eventually been revealed to be the forge’s fire. When it seemed to him that they must be near the demon’s lair, he was concerned that the only sound he heard was the marching of his own army’s feet. Perhaps they are done crafting their weapons, he thought. Perhaps the forge has gone cold as they wait for Surok to be freed.
Cerah, too, sensed that something was wrong. This is too easy, she thought. He knows I am coming. Why has he sent nothing more than a few snow beasts to meet us? As these thoughts formed, they came around a tight curve in the passage and stepped into a high-vaulted cavern. It was Surok’s lair.
And it was empty.
Cerah walked farther into the cavern, looking for Silestra, or the hybrid creatures, but there was nothing. She turned to the high outcropping she had seen in her visions. There was the throne of Surok, but the beast himself was nowhere to be seen. At the base of the throne was a low mound of a substance that looked like translucent bluish rocks. It was the final remnant of the crystalline prison formed by Opatta’s binding spell, which had kept Surok trapped for so many centuries. “He has broken free,” she said.
Sounds of confusion echoed throughout the chamber as the warriors gradually came to realize the situation. The army of the enemy was not here. In her growing despair, Cerah realized that she had led fifty thousand to the Frozen South in vain. Surok had fooled her. When she Went Within to challenge him, he had appeared nowhere near ready to move his forces. Indeed, his feet still seemed to be trapped and he sat upon his throne. But it had all been a ruse.
Which meant that somewhere on Quadar, Pilka’s Anger was moving against the Free People.
Just as she was on the verge of breaking down, Cerah heard a weak voice cry out. “They are not the monsters! Humans have come!” She turned to the source of the sound. It was the massive prison cell that had been constructed to hold the human slaves. Inside, lying helplessly on the ground, were thousands of people, obviously left behind to die when Surok moved his army out. She ran to the cage, followed by Slurr and Kern.
The captives were all near death from starvation and sickness. In many places they lay in piles where they had crawled to be close to one another. There were many in the cage who had already perished. Cerah looked at the massive lock upon the door of the cell. She feared that her magic might fail once more, but pointed Isurra at it and said, “Undo!” To her relief the lock shattered, and several warriors and wizards worked together to pull open the massive bars.
As they moved in among the struggling captives, they began at once to tend to them, offering them food and water from their supplies. So near death were most that they had great trouble taking the nourishment that was offered to them. Gradually, the warriors began to move the dead to the rear of the cell, to better help the remnant.
Seeing that her wizards and healers among the humans in her forces were doing all they could for the survivors, Cerah began to desperately run from one captive to the next, looking for any sight of her family. As she passed face after unfamiliar face, her fear rose in her throat. They are not among the living! she thought.
But then Slurr called to her, “Cerah, over here!” She turned and ran to where her husband was, down on one knee. As she reached him, she saw that he had put his arms around the nearly skeletal form of Jerund Passel.
“Father!” she screamed. She dropped to her knees and took him into her arms. Jerund looked at her, his eyes cloudy, his face a mask of confusion. Then, gradually, his expression changed. His brown eyes seem to clear, and a slight, pained smile turned up the corners of his parched lips.
“Cerah? Is it you? Can it be? How?”
“Shh! Don’t try to speak, Father,” she said. “It is me. And look, Slurr is here too!” Jerund turned to Slurr, recognition slowly dawning. Slurr gave him some water to drink. Jerund choked on it but managed to get some down. After a few moments, though still obviously very weak, he was able to lift his head.
“I was sure I would die in this hole,” he said weakly.
“Are—are there any others?” Cerah asked. “Do any of my brothers and sisters yet live?”
Jerund’s eyes filled with tears. “Ketah,” he began, but he was overcome with sobbing. After several agonizing moments he managed to say, “They...used her. The beasts put one of those creatures inside of her.” Cerah knew what that meant. Her sister had been killed from within by one of Surok’s hybrid monsters.
“What about Gretah and Mol?” she asked. “Or Martan, or the twins. Silvio? Laran?” As she spoke, Slurr called to her once again. Not far from where Jerund lay he found first one, then another of Cerah’s family. Eventually, he identified all but one of them. To Cerah’s unbridled joy, all were alive, though clearly just barely. But tiny Laran was not near the others. As Cerah did her best to comfort her brothers and sisters, Slurr continued to search.
Cerah called to several wizards who were working nearby. They came and tended to the Passels, offering food and drink, and casting strengthening spells upon their frail bodies. Those, as before, still worked in spite of the lingering evil of Surok. She turned again to her father. He stared at her intently.
“You look different,” he said. “You are a woman. When I sent you back up the mountain you were just a child.”
“Much has happened since that day, Father,” she said. “I will tell you everything, b
ut you must rest now. There are many wizards here who will help all of you regain your strength. And there are thousands of humans to help you down off this mountain when you are strong enough to move.”
“Wizards? What are you talking about? You tell me fairy tales?” he said, a trace of anger in his weak voice.
Cerah smiled at her father. I may have changed, but he has not, she realized. She wondered how he would deal with what she had become. Probably not very well, she thought.
As she stroked her father’s graying hair, Slurr came to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “You need to come with me,” he said gravely.
Cerah stood at once, a cold spike of fear in her stomach. She did not like the tone of her husband’s voice.
“When some of the captives who had succumbed were moved, we found Laran. He was beneath several corpses.”
“Then he is dead?” Cerah asked, tears already welling in her eyes.
“Not dead,” Slurr answered, “but so very close that I do not know if he can come back. Look, he is here.”
Cerah turned her head to see where Slurr had indicated. There, looking as though his skin had been stretched over a little boy’s skeleton, was her youngest brother. Laran lay with his head in Russa’s lap. It had been the young wizard who had found him. She had at first mistaken him for dead, but saw his closed eyes flutter weakly as she had slid her arms beneath his frail form to move him. As Cerah sat beside him, she could understand Russa’s error. Laran was barely breathing. When she felt for his pulse, Cerah found that it was extremely weak and erratic. Human healers would have no hope of saving him. But Cerah was not a human healer. Perhaps her resurrection magic did not work upon the ice of the Frozen South. But Laran was clinging ever so desperately to life, and she was not about to see his spark extinguished.
She moved her mouth very close to his ear. “Guess what, darling Laran. You were right all along. Szalmi is a dragon. If you can just open your eyes, I can show him to you. Him and many others like him. I’ve brought them for you to see.” As she spoke, Cerah raised Isurra and passed it in a circular motion over her brother’s still body. She did this several times, and as she did the metal began to turn a soft blue. Slurr watched in wonder as the stave glowed more and more intensely. All the while, Cerah continued to speak softly about dragons into Laran’s ear.
As she watched his face, Laran’s eyes began to flutter once more. This time, however, they finally opened. Cerah continued to wave the glowing staff and in a moment, his pupils, at first widely dilated, began to shrink and focus. He turned them toward his sister. Cerah held her breath as he continued to stare at her. Then in a voice so small and fractured that the very sound of it was enough to shatter even the stoniest heart, he said,
“I knew he was a dragon. I told you, Cerah.”
The army remained in Surok’s lair for two days, nursing the human captives back to health. Gradually, they responded to the food that the soldiers had offered, as well as the many, many healing and strengthening spells. To the men and women of the army, it seemed miraculous that so many, who had been at death’s door, were now walking around and talking. Healing magic ranked among the strongest known. Ideally, they would have liked to attend to them for a few days more, but every hour they spent there was an hour that the dark army was somewhere threatening Ma’uzzi’s beloved green life.
Cerah was happy to see their recovery, especially that of her family, but she was deeply saddened that so few remained of the multitude she had seen in her visions. The vast majority of the people they found in the cell had perished from injury, starvation and thirst. Furthermore, the cavern was littered with the bones of those used to feed the Silestra, as well as the poor women who had been forced to supply Surok with his new army.
While the captives were nursed back to health, Cerah, Slurr, Renton, Kern, and Parnasus spoke often of what would have to happen now.
“The task of getting all of these people off the mountain will be far more difficult than it was to climb it in the first place,” said Kern.
“Yes,” said Renton. “And then they must be shipped back to safety. There was not room enough for us when we came. Even accounting for the casualties, how will we fit them and the army in our fleet for the return voyage?”
“Some can be brought on dragon-back,” said Parnasus. “Every wizard can take a passenger, and the riderless will bear them as well.”
“There are but a fraction of the captives I saw in my visions yet alive,” said Cerah, “but there are still far too many to put on dragons.”
“There is only one course of action,” said Slurr. “As many of the army as are needed to make room onboard the ships will remain behind. I think it would be wise to leave a handful of wizards behind as well. The troops will have to subsist on snow beast meat until the fleet returns. My captains have taken a census of the survivors. There are just under ten thousand. That is the size of the force that will remain behind.”
Parnasus looked sadly at the young man. He realized that Slurr’s plan was the only viable option, and he knew what the young general was going to say next.
Slurr turned to Cerah. “I will stay with them.”
“No!” Cerah shouted, forgetting her respect for her husband and thinking only of her love for him. “I forbid it! You will return with us, with me!”
“My beloved, I cannot. You have placed the fate of this army in my hands. You. It was your decision. Now I must do what is best for that army. I cannot leave them here and sail back to civilization knowing that they are suffering on this forsaken sheet of ice. I am staying. Once you have reached wherever you decide to go, send enough ships back to retrieve us.”
Cerah wanted to argue, but she knew in her heart he would not relent. She also had to admit that he was right. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, she nodded. “Very well. Renton, what is the nearest continent?”
“Niliph,” he said. “If we sail to the northwest, we can reach it in no more than five days.”
“Then it is to Niliph we go,” said Cerah decisively. “From there I will send out wizards to scout the other continents. Surok has gone somewhere, and we must discover where that is. This must be done as quickly as possible. So confident was I of my plan to finish him in his lair, that I left the rest of Quadar seriously under-defended. The forces we kept behind will be no match for the foul army he now leads.”
“You did what you felt in your spirit was right,” said Parnasus. “Now is not the time for self-reprobation.”
“I was careless and cocky,” Cerah replied. “My hatred and anger at Beru’s murder clouded my judgment. But you are right. Punishing myself now will not save the Free People. I erred, but I will not be so foolish again.”
When at last the captives were strong enough to travel, they made the long, arduous journey back down the mountain. It took three days to descend, Parnasus being able to navigate down much more easily than he had on the climb. Though they had shaved an entire day from their climb, the trip down the mountain was far more difficult. The freed humans, though greatly revived, were nevertheless still ill equipped for the trek. And after that came the long march back to the icy harbor and the ships. Cerah was grieved that several of the human slaves were unable to survive the journey, in spite of her craft, and that of the many wizards. More of her warriors perished on the return trip as well. But at last they found their way back to the waiting sea vessels, with the majority of the group still alive.
As the prisoners and the greater portion of the army were loaded aboard the ships, Cerah and Slurr spent every moment together that they could. Although he had insisted upon staying behind, Slurr’s heart ached at the thought of not being with his wife. Cerah, for her part, was nearly inconsolable, although Slurr constantly encouraged her to keep her grief hidden from her forces and, more importantly, from her family.
During the time spent nursing the captives, Cerah and Slurr, aided by Kern, managed to tell her family everything that had happened since they were capture
d. It was very difficult for them to understand, let alone accept, that Cerah was the Chosen One of Ma’uzzi. But over time, both through patient explanation and eye-opening demonstration, they gradually came to realize that Cerah had become far more than the unhappy Newlady who had been banished to Mount Arnon to herd agorrah. Slowly, one by one, they accepted her as the Chosen One.
Her father, not unexpectedly, had the hardest time of it. But even he came around. “Your mother often told me that there was something special about you,” Jerund said shortly before they set sail. He turned to Slurr and said, “She also told me you weren’t as damn dumb as you acted. I didn’t really listen to her about either of those things.” Turning his gaze back to Cerah, he said, “I see now how wrong I was...about many things.”
Cerah touched her father’s cheek. “Do not trouble your heart about the past, Father. Nothing can be done to change one instant of what has already come to be. We must concern ourselves with what will happen to Quadar from this day hence. That is potentially of far more fearful consequence than our past regrets could ever be.”
“You sound just like her, you know,” Jerund said. The fact that he mentioned her mother twice in a matter of a few minutes was not lost on Cerah. So great was his pain at losing his wife that Jerund rarely made any reference to her, and he discouraged his children from mentioning her as well. But he had wept when Cerah told him that she had been able to speak to her spirit on Melsa, and he seemed much comforted by that news. He had also been able to bear the grief of Beru’s death with Cerah’s assurance that he was at peace and in Jul’s company on the Next Plane.
Many Hidden Rooms (Cerah of Quadar Book 2) Page 15
