Prince of Malorn (Annals of Alasia Book 3)

by Annie Douglass Lima

  Turning back to Korram, Ernth said something, but his words were lost in the roar of the water.

  “What?” Korram called back, cupping his hand to his ear.

  Ernth replied, but Korram still couldn’t make out his words, except for “cave”, and “behind”. From the way he was gesturing with his spear, Korram got the idea that he thought the snowcat might have a hidden den behind the waterfall.

  It would be a perfect spot for one, he thought, staring at the foaming water before them. If there was indeed a cave, the creature could probably leap right into it from one of the boulders in the pool, and it could be sitting in there right now just waiting for them to get a little closer.

  Korram shivered. Perhaps it was his imagination, but now he had a feeling he was being watched. Taking a deep breath and hefting his spear, he forced himself to keep going, making his way carefully toward the waterfall as Ernth was doing on the opposite bank.

  The going was harder now. The breeze blew spray into his face, and he had to stop every few seconds to wipe the water out of his eyes. The ground on this side was made up almost entirely of tumbled boulders, and Korram had no desire to squeeze blindly between them. But the only other option was to wade into the water, and he didn’t fancy squelching along in sodden boots for the rest of the day. So he edged further from the bank to where the way was a little clearer and he didn’t have to wonder if a wounded predator might be lying in wait just around the next rock.

  The slope grew steeper and steeper, and Korram was forced to use his spear as a walking stick. It soon became obvious that this route would take him around the waterfall, and that he would have to rejoin the stream somewhere above the cliff. Well, it couldn’t be helped. Maybe from the top he would be able to look down and see into the cave, if there was one.

  When the slope finally leveled out, Korram stopped again to catch his breath. From the sound of it, the stream was now about twenty yards to his left, with the waterfall about the same distance behind him. The boulders weren’t quite as close together up here, and as soon as his breathing had returned to normal, he began to make his way cautiously back toward the water’s edge.

  When Korram returned to the bank, Ernth was nowhere in sight. He must still be down below the falls. Korram began to edge back in that direction, clambering over rocks and casting wary glances all around.

  As watchful as he was being, he still had to look twice to be certain he had seen it. At the very top of the waterfall, the water split to flow around a long, pale boulder. Lying flat on top of the long, pale boulder was a long, pale shape that might have been an animal. It was completely motionless, and it blended in so well that at first glance Korram thought it was part of the rock. But then a whisper of a breeze ruffled his hair, and when he saw the creature’s fur ruffle as well, he knew.

  So it actually is a snowcat. Until that moment, the animal hadn’t quite seemed real, paw prints and all. This was a slightly smaller, thinner specimen than the one that had helped him survive the blizzard. He had been right about its being older, too; its creamy white fur was sprinkled with gray.

  The question was, what should he do now? Though his heart was beating faster, Korram felt surprisingly calm. He knew the animal had not caught sight of him yet; he was approaching it from behind, and the wind was blowing his scent in the opposite direction. The roar of the waterfall had covered the sound of his footsteps. So he was safe, at least for the moment, while he considered his next move.

  He and Ernth would have a much better chance of defeating the snowcat if they worked together. But Ernth wasn’t up here, and there was no way Korram could call or signal to him without the animal’s noticing. He supposed he could go all the way around and back down the way he had come, but by then the beast could have run off again, or –

  Korram’s pounding heart seemed to stand still for an instant. Or what? What was the snowcat looking at? It was peering over the edge of the waterfall. What was down there?

  The answer was obvious. Ernth was. He was probably still trying to determine whether a cave lay behind the curtain of falling water, which meant that he might be almost directly below. Had he spotted the snowcat? Probably not. It was well camouflaged, and the spray and the angle of the cliff made it difficult to look straight up from below.

  Korram could try to hurry back down to warn his companion, but the creature could easily leap over the cliff and land on him before Korram could even get there. No, he couldn’t afford to let it out of his sight; that much he knew for certain.

  What then? If he waited long enough, Ernth was likely to climb the cliff or find another way up to the top as Korram had. Then the two of them could take it on together. But what if the snowcat acted first?

  Even as the thought crossed his mind, Korram saw the beast shift a little on the rock. Is it getting ready to spring? His heart pounding anew, Korram took a quiet step forward, and then another. He had to get closer, just in case.

  Now he stood right at the bank of the stream, only about ten feet behind the creature. It was perched out in the middle of the water, maybe eight feet from the edge. What was he supposed to do? He supposed he could wade out to the rock it was on, but he didn’t fancy battling a powerful animal in the middle of a river, let alone at the brink of a waterfall. That scenario didn’t seem likely to end well.

  The snowcat shifted again, gathering its hind legs under its body. Its tail, stretched out behind, twitched a little. Korram had seen Sir Fluffle gather himself just like that before he lunged at a squirrel in the palace garden.

  This is it, he thought desperately. I have to do something now! But he wouldn’t panic and throw his spear this time. Gripping the weapon with his right hand, he snatched up a loose pebble with his left and flung it at the cat, yelling, “Over here!”

  The snowcat turned its head, saw him, and bared long gleaming teeth in a snarl. Korram felt a stab of guilt at the glimpse of a red stain on its chest, and knew the cat was indeed angry and in pain. He gripped the spear in a two-handed stance as he had seen Ernth do, bracing his feet. “All right, come on! Over here! Let’s get this over with.” He wasn’t at all sure which of them would survive the encounter, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do.

  But the snowcat did not leap across the water to attack him. It turned its head once more to stare over the cliff, and Korram saw its muscles bunch and ripple as it shifted position again. It was going to leap over the waterfall! Ernth had said snowcats were clever. Apparently it had made the choice between the enemy who was ready for him and the one who was not.

  “Hey! Hey! Over here!” Korram yelled again, dashing forward along the bank and waving his arms. But the beast paid him no attention, and Korram knew there was only one remaining course of action, one chance he had to save Ernth’s life. Without pausing to consider the consequences, he leaped into the water and splashed his way toward the rock where the creature crouched.

  The streambed was slippery underfoot, and icy water rushed into his deerskin boots, filling them and slowing him down. The current was stronger than he had expected, and for a moment Korram was afraid he would be swept off his feet and over the falls. Desperately he braced himself against the force of the water and lunged forward.

  He was only one step away from the rock when the snowcat sprang. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Korram saw its body lengthen, its forelegs reaching out and over. Desperate, he leaped too, spear extended. His other arm stretched out in a frantic attempt to grab, to hold the creature back, to slow it down, to somehow stop what could no longer be stopped. He felt the tip of his weapon strike flesh as he seized a handful of thick fur. The animal was still leaping, pulling him forward with it, but he was half on top of it now, and he could feel the bulging muscles of its haunches rippling beneath his chest.

  It gave a strangled cry, half snarl, half scream, and whirled around, flailing its claws at him. Korram struck out with his spear again, still clutching a handful of fur. Then he felt his ribs hit the
edge of the rock, and he realized that his head was lower than the rest of him and that the snowcat’s momentum was pulling them both over the edge.

  He had a quick glimpse of Ernth balancing on a boulder at the foot of the falls, poking his spear through the curtain of water, and of the astonished expression on his face as he caught sight of Korram and the snowcat toppling over the edge toward him. Then there was no time to notice anything else before Korram felt himself tumbling through the air, still clutching the writhing animal, a curtain of water shimmering all around them. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed Ernth diving out of the way just before they landed right where he had been standing. Korram’s shin struck the rock with a painful crack before he and the snowcat slid off it and into the water.

  Korram knew how to swim, of course, but he had never tried swimming below a waterfall, and he hadn’t realized how hard the force of the falling water would push him under. He didn’t dare relax his grip on either his spear or the snowcat, but he kicked wildly with his legs, trying to shove off the bottom.

  Where is the bottom, anyway? His feet and elbows and spear kept bumping into things as he flailed in the water, but he was disoriented and couldn’t tell which direction was which. The snowcat was struggling up through the reddish bubbling murk, and Korram, who wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold his breath, let it tow him along behind.

  He gasped for air as his head finally broke the surface. The animal had its front paws up on a rock and was straining to drag itself out of the water. Still gripping its sodden fur with his left hand, Korram braced his feet against the rock and gave a jerk that pulled the cat back down on top of him. They both went under again, but Korram could feel that the beast was growing weaker.

  It was still strong enough to squirm around underwater to face him, though. Its powerful jaws opened and shut, snapping for his throat, and he barely had time to jerk his spear around again. Gripping it close to the tip, he thrust it upward as the creature in his arms thrust itself down at him.

  Instantly a cloud of red expanded through the water, and Korram felt his back hit the pebbly streambed as the cat’s bulk settled on top of him. Frantically he shoved with his hands, with his legs, but the soft heavy thing wouldn’t budge more than a few inches in any direction. Its face was touching his, its whiskers tickling his cheek, its paws limp on either side of his body in an embrace of death. This is its revenge, Korram thought. It’s going to drown me down here. I’m trapped. How ironic that after he had survived so many dangers and difficulties in the Rite of Acceptance, Rampus would be rid of him now after all.

  But using his spear as a lever, he finally managed to budge the feline body just enough to twist out from under it. He lunged for the surface at the same moment that he felt a hand grab his shoulder and haul him up toward the air. Wrapping his arms around a rock, he sucked in a welcome breath.

  Ernth stood beside him, chest-deep in water. “Are you all right?”

  Korram drew in another deep breath. Looking down, he saw long rips in his tunic where the beast had clawed at him. Blood was oozing through them, but the deerskin had obviously provided some protection; otherwise he knew those claws would have sliced him open to the bone. His shin and ribs throbbed, but he could live with that.

  “I-I think I’ll be all right.” Feeling dazed, Korram turned to stare at the half-submerged monster that had almost killed him. “Is it dead?”

  “Yes.” Ernth prodded the limp form with the butt of his own spear. “You certainly picked a dramatic way to do the job, but you did it, just the same. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you, Prince of Malorn. Congratulations.” He grinned, and Korram grinned shakily back. “And you actually remembered to hold on to your spear this time,” Ernth added. “Of course, with the number of holes you poked in that beautiful hide, it won’t make much of a coat for you now.”

  Korram wasn’t fooled. He guessed Ernth would have loved to wear a coat like that, holes or not, and the prestige that went with it. “I meant it when I said I don’t want the skin. You can have it.”

  Ernth shook his head, though he looked wistful. “It’s rightfully yours. And anyway, people at the Mid-Autumn Gathering will be impressed if they see you killed a snowcat. They’ll be more likely to join this army of yours.”

  As I suspected. Still, there was no harm in being diplomatic. “Well, you did most of the work in tracking it down, so I’ll share the skin with you,” Korram suggested. “You can keep half, and maybe we can each have a short jacket instead of a long coat.”

  Ernth didn’t need much convincing. “All right, if you’re sure.” His face lit up and he threw Korram a grateful grin. Korram suspected his generosity might just have earned him a friend for life. At least, it might have if he had planned to spend his life here in the mountains. Ernth had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with Korram’s army or the Lowlands.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” Ernth demanded. “Let’s get the body back to camp. We’d best drag it along in the water for now; it’ll be too heavy to carry otherwise. When we get closer we can go call the others to help.”

  The two of them each took hold of one of the beast’s forelegs and began to tow it back in the direction from which they had come, slipping and stumbling on the slick rocks of the streambed. Korram’s shin was aching, and he knew he would soon sport a large, colorful bruise. He limped painfully along, thankful for the cold water that numbed some of the pain even as it set him shivering.

  Turning back for another look at the animal he had killed, he felt a surge of regret that such a majestic creature had had to die because of a mistake he had made. The river had washed it clean of blood, and its wet, snowy pelt gleamed in the sunshine. It was beautiful, and he knew that the Mountain Folk were right: even dangerous animals had a right to live in these mountains, just as the people did. He thought of the other snowcat, the one whose warmth had helped him survive the blizzard, and he had an odd feeling that that one would be ashamed of him now.

  He glanced down again at the body he was towing, noting once more the sprinkles of gray in its white fur. This animal had obviously been old, probably not far from the end of its life anyway, which made him feel a little better. Still, he was scarcely able to believe that he had survived this encounter. And not only survived, but triumphed! He had killed the most dangerous animal in the Impassables, and he had done it singlehandedly, against all expectations. Korram swelled with pride. If Arden were here, he would definitely write a song about the event. Well, I’ll be sure to tell him about this adventure someday so he can.

  After a moment, Ernth turned to him. “So what exactly happened up there to send you tumbling over the waterfall with this fellow?”

  “I spotted him crouching on a rock at the top, and I guessed he was preparing to spring on you,” Korram explained. “I tried to distract him, but when I saw he was really about to jump anyway, I lunged and grabbed him and we fell over the edge together.”

  Ernth froze. Korram glanced over at his friend and saw a look of horrified realization, rapidly changing to anger, on his face. Even Kalendria on an emotional day didn’t change moods as abruptly as Ernth. “What’s the matter now?”

  Ernth glared at him. “Go ahead, Prince of Malorn, say it!” He sounded truly furious.

  “Say what? What are you so upset about?”

  Ernth scowled at him a moment longer and then turned away, giving the snowcat’s body an impatient jerk as he began wading through the stream once more.

  “Say what?” Korram pressed, hurrying alongside with his share of the load.

  Ernth clenched his jaw but didn’t look at him. Finally he let out an angry breath between his teeth. “That you saved my life,” he growled.

  Korram was even more puzzled. “And that’s a bad thing because …?”

  Ernth shot him a glare. “I don’t want to go to the Lowlands. I’ve never wanted to join your army. You’ve known that all along.”

  “So don’t go. No one has to join
if they don’t want to. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Don’t insult me, Prince of Malorn,” snapped Ernth.

  “I’m not trying to! I have no idea why you’re so upset.” And here I thought I was finally learning to understand Mountain Folk.

  Ernth sighed, still scowling, and shot him a sidelong glance. “You don’t have that custom in the Lowlands?”

  “What custom?”

  “If someone saves your life, you have to travel with them and try to protect them if they face any danger, until you have a chance to repay the debt by saving their life in return.”

  So that’s what you’re angry about. “I’ve never heard of that custom,” Korram told him. “Really, you don’t have to come with me out of the mountains.”

  Ernth whirled on him angrily. “Of course I have to! What kind of ungrateful, dishonorable person do you think I am?”

  “But you already saved my life,” Korram protested, trying to give him a way out. “You pulled me out of the water when I was about to drown back there.”

  Impatiently, Ernth waved off his words as though they were a bad excuse. “You know that doesn’t count. You were almost out already by the time I got over to you.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll do something else stupid and dangerous in the next few days, and you can rescue me before I leave the mountains,” Korram suggested in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  He was rewarded by a grudging grin from Ernth. “You probably will,” his companion conceded, and his gloomy mood seemed to lighten. “At least, you’d better.”

  Chapter 15

  Ernth had never tasted snowcat meat before. It was tougher than goat, and he didn’t like the flavor as much, but the exotic taste was strangely exciting. The family feasted on it around the campfire that evening while Korram sat quietly, nursing his sore knee, and let Ernth relate the story of their adventure.