Tall monoliths were erected at various places along the top of the hill, facing the water, a spiked crown of smooth white stones. Each the height of five men, the one thing binding them all together was their precarious position. Chloe couldn’t see how they could have been placed at such heights.
Stone temples were set snugly into clefts in the rock and crowned two of the tallest cliffs, but Chloe’s eye was drawn to one place above all.
Set into the hill was a cave.
The black entrance, huge and craggy, formed a gaping maw that beckoned as much as it filled her with foreboding. Revealed in the flames, a snaking path of brilliant blue stone led down from the cave, between the fires, ending at a gap in a long stone wall that followed the shore. The message was clear: this path led to one place only.
Chloe tore her eyes away from the cave with difficulty.
Soon the ship was once more beached, the ramp pushed out, and a camp on the sand swiftly made. After eating by the fire, Chloe saw Kargan stand and look up at the wall.
Following his gaze she saw the silhouettes of two robed men standing by the path, just inside the gap in the waist-high stone. Kargan hefted a heavy chest in his arms and began to walk up.
Chloe followed.
She sensed the watching eyes of the soldiers but she hugged close to the tall Ilean as if following instructions, and with a wall cutting the shoreline off from any escape route no one moved to stop her. She fell in just behind the big man and with his attention on the priests he didn’t notice her.
After climbing up the beach she soon felt grass beneath her feet, soft and pleasant. Kargan came to a halt just in front of the gap in the wall.
‘Kargan, overlord of the Nexotardis, master of the sun king’s navy and adviser to the ruler of the Ilean Empire,’ one of the magi intoned. ‘We see you, as does the Seer.’
The two magi were twins, identical in every way. Both had shaved heads and wore white robes belted with black ropes. They were so thin as to be emaciated, giving their features an angular sharpness, all bones and tightly drawn skin. They had sunken cheeks and deep-set eyes.
‘I bring an offering from Solon, the sun king of Ilea,’ Kargan said.
It was the first time that Chloe had seen him appear anything close to afraid. He bent down and placed the chest on the ground, unwilling to take a single step further.
‘Your offering will ensure your night on Athos passes without danger,’ the other magus said. ‘We will pray to the gods for Solon.’
Kargan bowed.
‘Tell your men that none may approach who does not have an offering for the Oracle.’
‘I will.’
‘And none may step onto the path who does not wish to consult the Seer. Will you step onto the path, Kargan of Lamara?’
Kargan bowed and took a step back. ‘No—’ He noticed Chloe for the first time. ‘Girl, what are you—?’
Chloe had been thinking about her own uncertain future all day. Before she thought too hard about what she was doing, she had pushed past Kargan, made her way through the gap in the wall, and stepped onto the path.
Kargan grunted as he reached out, but his fingers clasped empty air. One of the magi turned his sunken eyes on Chloe.
‘You have an offering?’
Chloe unclasped her copper chain. She removed the heavy amulet before returning the bare necklace to its place around her neck.
‘I do,’ she said, displaying the amulet.
‘She must stay with me!’ Kargan growled.
The magus closest to Kargan fixed his dark eyes on the bigger man. ‘You have made your offering, and so we will ensure she is returned to you. But she has stepped onto the path, and now we will take her to the Seer.’
‘I cannot—’ he began.
‘Do you wish to know the manner of your death?’ the magus said. ‘For I can tell it to you, Kargan of Lamara. There is no curse greater.’
Kargan shook his head. Relenting, he scowled at Chloe. ‘I will wait here.’
‘Come,’ both of the magi said in unison.
Chloe’s heart raced as she followed them up the winding path. She passed flames the color of sapphire that lit the surrounding rock blue, and crimson fire as red as blood. The path was wide and the two magi flanked her on both sides. Thinking about the threat they had made to Kargan, she suddenly felt terrified about what the Oracle would say.
The path continued for an eternity, and then the magi stopped in front of the cave.
‘Enter,’ the man on her left said.
Chloe walked inside.
The ground was now unpaved but nonetheless she felt smooth stone beneath her feet, sloping deeper into the passage. Water dripped down the rock walls of the passage at both sides, yet the floor was dry and the rivulets followed channels where the walls met the stone, trickling into the shadowed depths. The tunnel curved around sharp promontories but she could see by a fiery glow coming from somewhere ahead.
Taking turn after turn, Chloe saw the light growing brighter and brighter, and then after a final bend she put a hand to her eyes, blinded by whiteness.
Squinting against the glare her vision cleared, and she saw a pure white flame burning in the center of a high-ceilinged cavern. The fire burned without tinder. Chloe smelled a scent she had encountered only once before, when she had slept beside the rumbling Mount Oden.
A woman sat staring into the flame. Her back was to Chloe and all she could see was a hunched figure with pure white hair cascading down her back, stretching all the way to the ground. The woman wore a black robe with long sleeves that covered every part of her skin.
‘Come, Chloe of Phalesia.’ A sibilant voice bounced around the cavern, coming from everywhere at once. ‘Place your offering beside me and then sit with the fire of the gods between us.’
Swallowing, Chloe stepped hesitantly forward and placed the copper amulet next to the woman. Without looking down, she circled the white flame and sat on the hard stone, across from the Oracle.
Chloe looked up.
The flame danced between them, rippling across the Seer’s features so that they were hard to make out. Chloe gained an impression of surprising beauty: with startlingly green eyes, the Seer had the delicate features and noble cast to her face that Chloe had only seen before on the statues of Edra, goddess of love, fertility, and children.
‘You offer the materia of copper,’ the Oracle murmured. Reaching down without looking, she picked up the amulet and tossed it into the fire.
Chloe waited for the copper to melt, but it didn’t change at all.
‘Stare into the flame,’ the Oracle said. ‘Open your soul to the fire. Gaze and do not blink.’
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Chloe gripped her knees as she focused on the white flame. Sweat formed on her brow and her heart rate increased as if a galloping horse was trapped in her chest. Her vision narrowed as she stared until she could no longer see the Seer; she felt she was floating in a sea of darkness, and nothing existed but the pure white fire.
‘Close your eyes,’ the Oracle instructed.
Chloe closed her eyes, and the feeling of floating free from her body became so strong that she began to panic. But she fought to remain strong and banish the fear. Her breath came in short gasps.
‘The gods have accepted your offering. I now pronounce this prophecy.’
Chloe was desperate to open her eyes and see the face of the woman speaking to her as she revealed her future. Her consciousness floated in a void. She could concentrate on nothing except for the Oracle’s words.
‘You will kill a man you pity. You will desire a man you fear. You will wed a man you do not love. The gods have spoken. Open your eyes.’
Chloe opened her eyes, trembling with dread.
The fire had ebbed. The amulet in the flame was gone.
Chloe could now see the Oracle’s face.
The woman’s skin was blackened, as if the flesh had been pressed to hot iron. She had no eyes and shifted her head fro
m side to side in the swift movements of the blind. The Oracle put her palms together in prayer. When she did, Chloe saw that her hands were withered and her fingers were like claws, with nails so long they curled back on themselves.
‘You may now go,’ she said in a rasping voice.
Chloe clambered unsteadily to her feet.
As she fled back through the cave, the words of the prophecy were burned into her mind like a brand on the hide of a beast.
You will kill a man you pity.
You will desire a man you fear.
You will wed a man you do not love.
Rather than bringing clarity to her uncertain future, Chloe felt cursed.
20
Gusts of wind came and went, ebbing and then returning in force, making constant work for the five men who crewed the twenty-foot sailing galley. Tall waves lifted the vessel up and sent it skittering down the far sides. Bursts of spray drenched the sailors, but the sun was bright and the day warm.
Dion manned the tiller, judging the approach of each wave carefully and fighting to keep the boat on course. A fresh flurry of wind pocketed the mainsail and just ahead of him Cob pulled on the rope with his calloused hands, hauling the sail closer still.
The seas were too strong for the oars but the other three crewmen – the youth Riko, the tall broken-nosed brawler Otus, and the wiry middle-aged Sal – kept themselves busy bailing water and following Cob’s instructions with the headsail.
‘Cinder Fen.’ Cob nodded to the brooding landmass dead ahead. ‘We’ll be there before sunset.’
Dion recalled his mother’s warning to stay away from Cinder Fen. But she hadn’t known about the capture of the first consul’s daughter, and it was by far the shortest course to Athos and then Ilea. Cob knew the terrain, and said that provided they found the jutting promontory affording them a camp a reasonable distance from the mountains, they would be safe. He had beached there three times before.
But wildren were always unpredictable.
As the wind freshened and came more steadily rather than in unpredictable squalls, Dion decided they were making good time. Their destination grew closer, revealing the different mountain peaks and the dark clouds hanging over them. A strip of brilliant white shore became visible.
‘Take us no closer,’ Cob instructed. ‘We’ll follow the shore from a good distance until we find the safe place.’
Suddenly Riko stood bolt upright, gripping hold of the mast as he stared out into the sea, white-faced. He shielded his eyes and scanned the water, back in the direction of their wake, his eyes roving wildly.
‘What is it?’ Sal asked.
When Riko said nothing, Cob roared, ‘Speak, boy!’
‘A—A serpent. I saw gray scales and a huge arching back.’ He turned eyes filled with terror on Cob and Dion. ‘I . . . I think I just saw a leviathan!’
‘Silex, keep us safe,’ Sal whispered.
‘Are you certain? Which way?’ Cob asked.
Riko pointed to the right of dead astern. Dion turned and stared as every man in the boat squinted at the sea.
‘Keep her on course!’ Cob growled at him. ‘There are enough of us looking.’
Dion’s skin crawled as he waited for another sighting. He continued to follow the shoreline, a few miles away.
The moments dragged by. The wooden beams of the boat groaned and he shivered, expecting the timbers to split apart as a serpent struck from below. Despite the old man’s instructions he scanned the sea when he could, fighting to also keep the boat lined up against the ceaseless pounding of the waves.
Finally, after a long silence spent searching, Cob called out to Riko again. ‘Are you certain, lad?’
‘I . . . I think so,’ Riko said. He still stood by the mast, clutching the stout pole with white-knuckled fingers.
‘It could have been a whale,’ Dion said.
‘And if it wasn’t?’ Sal demanded. The wiry man, who had sailed these waters with Cob for half his life, was almost trembling.
‘If we’re sharing the sea with a leviathan, we need to head in,’ Cob said. ‘Before it’s too late.’
‘We should keep sailing,’ said Dion. ‘Cinder Fen is more dangerous than the open ocean. Everyone says to either camp in force or beach at the refuge. It will be safer farther up, on the promontory, as far as we can get from the mountains.’
‘Turn us in.’ Cob brought the full force of his glare on Dion. Despite his diminutive size, he could still be intimidating. ‘If there’s a serpent out there our safest option is to head for shallow water.’
‘There’s more sailing in the day,’ Dion persisted. ‘We have to—’
‘You’ve never been to Cinder Fen, Dion. I have.’
‘I’m with Cob,’ Otus said.
‘Take us in,’ said Riko.
‘Sal?’ Dion asked the last man in the group.
‘Cob’s the best sailor I know,’ Sal said, scratching the stubble on his angular jaw. He took a deep breath. ‘He’s also stayed alive long enough to grow warts.’ He nodded to the beckoning shore, close enough to make out the breakers. ‘I’m for getting us out of the water.’
Dion reluctantly nodded. He turned the boat so they were angling into shore while Cob let the rope in his hands run freely as their course altered.
Watching their approach, Dion saw that the beach here was narrow, leading up to a stretch of smooth rock before the ground became steeper, eventually becoming black walls and broken ridges like jagged teeth. Tilting his head back he saw that they would be landing just below a cliff taller than the peaks around it. Behind the vessel the sun was drawing close to the horizon, but the glow of late afternoon didn’t touch the storm clouds gathered at the mountaintops.
‘Sail down!’ Dion called. The boat caught a wave and sped forward faster than he liked. ‘Everyone out on my command! Stop her from turning and get her out before the water breaks over the stern and fills her up!’
Judging his moment, he finally cried out. ‘Now!’
Every man in the boat hopped over the side and instantly was in water up to his armpits. The remorseless waves threatened to turn the boat but the crew took hold and hauled it forward. At the bow, Riko and Otus were in shallower water and had a good purchase. They almost ran as they pulled the vessel forward through breaking waves. Some water came in but Dion saw with satisfaction that they’d done as well as could be expected.
The five men grunted as they lifted the vessel, working to drag her up where the rising tide couldn’t touch her. Soon the boat was high on the beach, tilted to the side due to the keel. Dion felt soft powdery sand under his feet as he scanned the cliffs ahead. Beside him Cob was staring up at the sky.
‘Look,’ Dion said, pointing. ‘A cavern. Just above the sand, near the scrub.’
Cob rubbed his chin and glanced down at the boat. ‘I’d prefer to stay close to the boat, ready to depart.’
‘Stay here,’ Dion said.
He ran along the beach while Cob cursed and called after him, telling him to be careful. He reached the bushes and came to a scooped impression in the cliff, not a deep cave, but sandy floored and sheltered overhead and at the sides. Staying only long enough to make a swift assessment, he sprinted back to the group.
‘It’s safe,’ he said. ‘And I have an idea. The wildren will see a boat on the beach, but if we take it into the cavern, there’s little chance we’ll be spotted.’
‘As long as we haven’t been spotted already,’ Otus muttered.
‘It’s a good idea,’ Cob said. ‘Only one downside.’
Dion nodded. ‘We’ll have to take down the mast.’
‘Makes it harder for us to flee in an emergency.’
‘We can keep the mast inside the boat, and we still have the oars,’ Dion said. ‘What do you all think?’ he addressed the group.
‘A cave sounds better than spending a sleepless night watching the sky for flyers,’ Sal said.
Otus and Riko agreed.
‘Come on,’ Dio
n said. ‘Let’s get it hidden as soon as possible.’
They were all strong sailors, accustomed to coastal trading where every night was yet another round of beaching at an unfamiliar place, and the boat was designed to be easily lifted. Soon they had the vessel well hidden inside the cave, with just enough room left over for the crew of five to stretch out and sleep.
‘No fires,’ Dion said as he looked out at the sea and saw it was growing dark. ‘It’s a warm night. We’ll eat a cold meal.’
‘Captain?’ Riko’s voice came from behind him. The youth’s face was eager; his courage had returned now that they’d left the water. ‘You know the stories. Can we look for gemstones before we leave? We can be careful.’
‘No,’ Dion said shortly. ‘We stay in this cave and then leave as soon as we can see our hands in front of our faces. No man goes out, not until morning. Understood?’
Riko glanced at Otus and then nodded. ‘All right.’
‘Let’s eat and rest. We have an early start tomorrow.’
Dion’s dreams were disturbed by whispers, sounds of scuffling footsteps, and low voices at the edge of hearing.
Always a light sleeper, his eyes shot open.
A rumble came from a squat shape nearby; Cob was snoring as always. Sal lay near the old man, his arms folded to form a pillow as he slept on his side.
Dion sat up. It was dark in the cavern and the sky was clouded, but the moon was just over the horizon. The mouth of the cavern was wide, and with his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he swept his gaze over the interior. Standing, he looked at the rear, behind the boat.
With urgency Dion bent and grabbed hold of Cob’s shoulder as he started shaking.
‘Wha—?’
‘Shh,’ Dion hissed. ‘Wake Sal. Riko and Otus are missing.’
Cob cursed and shot up, clambering to his feet and kicking Sal in the legs. ‘Get up. Stay quiet.’
Dion grabbed his bow, placed near his head in case it was needed. Removing the leather cover, he flung the quiver of arrows over his shoulder, taking a solitary shaft and nocking it to the string.
He saw that Cob now held a small axe and Sal gripped a scabbard. Sal took hold of the sheathed sword and slowly drew it, the flat blade making a scratching sound that sent a shiver up Dion’s spine.
Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1) Page 14
