by Pati Nagle
Eliani waited with Luruthin while Vanorin went a short distance ahead, studying the crag they were climbing. They had strayed from their earlier course, hampered by the snowfall which had thickened as the night wore on. It must not be long before dawn now, but the storm was so heavy around them that there was no way to tell whether the sun had risen.
She looked at Luruthin, worried that the sun might somehow affect him through the cloud. He met her gaze.
“I have been thinking, Eliani. If I remain with the Lost, you will only be two.”
“Sunahran and the others meant to return to Bitterfield. We will join them there, or catch up with them on the road.”
“Ah.” He nodded, though she thought he looked a bit disappointed.
Her brow grew warm. She glanced at Vanorin, his blanket-cloaked form almost hidden by the swirling snow, then closed her eyes and answered.
Hello, love.
It is snowing? Where are you?
Somewhere on the shoulder of the Sleeper. Yes, the storm is growing stronger, I think.
I thought Luruthin was too weak to travel.
Eliani swallowed. He is better now. We—I must confess something to you, love. We fed him.
She sensed Turisan’s confusion. You found a kobalen?
No. Vanorin and I bled into a cup for him.
Turisan was silent. She feared he was angry. Nervous, she spoke the first thought that came to her.
The change it brought over him was quite striking. He is much stronger now.
Yes, it is remarkable how quickly they change.
You have seen this?
A faint ripple of amusement went through Turisan’s khi. Yes, I have seen it. I must confess to you in turn that I fed Kelevon when he was being held in Glenhallow.
Kelevon!
Fury woke in her heart at the thought of Kelevon drinking her partner’s blood. She tried to keep her anger from Turisan, but was so distraught she knew she had likely failed.
Turisan’s khi filled with warmth and gentleness. I did not tell you at the time because I feared to distress you. If I have erred I ask your forgiveness.
I....
She could not form a reply. Shaking with anger, she opened her eyes. She could no longer see Vanorin through the snow.
I had two reasons for feeding him. One was that he was suffering. As we held him against his will, we were responsible for his welfare. The other reason was that in exchange for being fed he gave us information about the alben.
Eliani drew a deep breath, cold in her throat. I am not angry with you, love. But Kelevon....
Yes. We did not know then how destructive he was.
If I meet him again I will kill him.
I pray you will never meet him again.
Eliani let out an exasperated sigh. So do I.
She peered through the snow, seeking a glimpse of Vanorin. The flakes were swirling thicker now, agitated by an increasing breeze. Luruthin shifted beside her and she met his glance. She sensed movement from Turisan and focused her attention on him.
You are riding?
Yes.
Has the sun risen?
Not yet, but it will not be long.
All is darkness here. Love, I will speak to you later. I think we must find shelter.
Very well. Spirits guard you.
Thank you, my heart. May they walk with you also.
A last wave of warmth from him faded slowly. She gazed after Vanorin, but saw only swirling snow.
“Vanorin?”
Silence answered. Perhaps the snow had muffled her call. She tried again, more loudly. Luruthin added his voice to hers. They listened, then Eliani heard Vanorin’s voice, indistinct with distance.
She looked at Luruthin. “I could not tell what he said.”
“Nor I.”
She paused, thinking she had heard Vanorin’s voice again. After a moment she called his name. There was no answer. She tried to find his khi, but the snowfall confused her perception.
Eliani stamped her feet in the snow, both to warm them and to curb her impatience. She pulled her blanket closer and shook snow from her hair, wishing for her lost cloak and the comfort of its hood. It had been Turisan’s cloak, his first gift to her after their handfasting. She was sorry to have lost it, for many reasons.
A sound caught her ear; the fall of a loose rock, muffled by snow. She stared but did not see it, though she heard it continue down the mountainside below.
“Vanorin?”
“Here.”
His voice was stronger than it had been, and came from above. Eliani tilted back her head and peered into the falling snow.
“Where are you?”
“On a ledge. There is another ridge beyond this, and the other has caves.”
“Good! We need shelter.”
“Can you follow my tracks?”
Eliani peered at the footprints he had left. They were mere dimples already, nearly filled with snow.
“If we hurry. The snow falls heavy.”
“Let me come down to you.”
Eliani waited, listening to his descent. She glanced at Luruthin, who was gazing eastward, frowning slightly. He sensed her gaze and turned to meet it.
“I think the sun is rising.”
“You can feel it?”
“I feel uncomfortable. Not burning, but ... if this storm clears suddenly....”
“We will find shelter before then.”
Eliani heard Vanorin’s tread off to the right and peered through the snow toward the sound. A moment later she saw his huddled shape coming toward them. Snow lay thick on his hair and shoulders. As he reached them Eliani saw that his cheeks were flushed with exertion.
“A short climb, perhaps five rods. I sought a way around but there is no other. Can you manage it?” He looked at Luruthin, who nodded.
“I can manage. There are caves?”
Vanorin paused in drinking from his water skin. “Several. I only looked into the first, which was small though it would shelter us. I think we will have no trouble finding better.”
Eliani took a sip of her own water, then slung it behind her. Vanorin started off again, following his own trail. Eliani fell into step behind him.
The path climbed as the mountain slope steepened. Eliani trod on a stone hidden beneath the snow and lost her balance, flailing. Luruthin caught hold of her from behind, keeping her from tumbling down the slope. Together they fell heavily against the rock wall uphill from them.
Vanorin had turned, and now returned to them. “Have a care, my lady.”
Setting forth again, Vanorin walked more slowly. After a short while he turned back across the slope and began to climb the craggy rock. Now and then his foot dislodged a loose rock, and Eliani watched it tumble down and away to disappear in the snow.
They reached a narrow ledge, Eliani assumed the one on which Vanorin had stood to call down to them. There they paused, clinging to the rock wall, crowded together in the small space.
“Another rod or two to climb. Are you fit for it?”
“Yes.”
Vanorin started upward again. The rock had plenty of cracks for handholds, but some broke away under Vanorin’s hands. Eliani watched where he found steady footing and followed his path up the steep cliff. She could hear Luruthin behind her, his breathing beginning to labor with exertion, as did her own.
A broader ledge came in view above. Vanorin had almost reached it.
His foot slipped as he was pulling himself up to the ledge. With a startled cry he slid back, clung with both hands to the rock, then dropped.
“Vanorin!”
Eliani heard him scrabbling down the cliff, ending in a heavy thump. Clinging to the rock, she craned her head to see beneath her.
He lay face down on the narrow ledge, his head and one arm hanging over its edge.
“Vanorin!”
The captain stirred, pushing himself back from the edge, rolling onto his back. Even through the falling snow Eliani saw his grimace of
pain.
Luruthin looked up at her. “Stay where you are, Eliani. I will go to him.”
Eliani held still, her heart pounding. She tried to slow her breathing, tried to think what was best to do.
Looking down again, she saw Vanorin sitting up, both arms wrapped around his right leg. Luruthin knelt beside him on the ledge, searching inside his pack.
“Are you hurt?”
Luruthin looked up. “He has twisted an ankle. He cannot climb. We can raise him with rope, if we can find a place to tie it.”
“Shall I come down?”
“No, climb up if you are able. I will throw you the end of the rope.”
Eliani swallowed, looking at the short distance she had left to climb. It was nothing, a mere leap, yet she feared it. She tried to remember exactly where Vanorin’s foot had slipped, but that was useless. Drawing a deep breath, she started upward.
In three breaths she was pulling herself onto the ledge. She got to her knees, then looked down at her companions.
“I am up. Throw the rope.”
She watched Luruthin twist the rope twice about his wrist, then fling the rest of the coil up toward her. It passed her hands as a gust of breeze pulled it beyond her reach. Hoping to catch it as it fell onto the ledge, she lunged after it, but the rope did not fall.
Hands had caught it. Gloved hands, reaching from beneath a furred cloak. Eliani scrambled backward, looking up at a male, white hair whipping around his face and his black eyes boring into her.
The Great Sleeper
Scrambling to her feet, Eliani drew her sword. The alben male took a startled step backward and raised a hand.
“Stay your sword! I mean you no harm.”
“Give me that rope!”
He tossed it to her. She caught it, then stood staring at him, breathing hard, wondering what to do. Snow swirled around her, making her blink. She could not hold the stranger at swordpoint and manage the rope as well.
“Eliani!” Luruthin's voice from below.
The alben’s glance flicked toward the cliff. “May I be of assistance?”
“Who are you?”
“My name will mean nothing to you, but I give it you. I am Ulithan.”
“That is an ælven name!”
A smile twitched at a corner of his mouth. “Yes.”
Eliani frowned. “Are you one of the Lost?”
His brows rose in surprise. “One could call me that.”
“Eliani!”
She took a step sideways toward the cliff’s edge and glanced down at Luruthin. He had tied a loop in the rope and settled it under Vanorin’s arms.
“Is your friend hurt?”
Eliani’s eyes narrowed as she looked back at Ulithan. “We seek shelter from the storm.”
Ulithan nodded. “There are several caves along this ridge. You are welcome to shelter there. Shall I help you?”
He gestured toward the rope. Eliani hesitated. She tried to get a sense of the stranger’s khi, but in the gusting snow it was difficult.
No malice showed in his face. He seemed unusually calm, in fact—untroubled by her sword, unhurried for an answer.
After a moment he unbuckled the belt at his hips, which held a long knife in its sheath and a battered water skin, and set it down by the cliff wall. He took off his cloak and laid it over the belt. He was dressed in deerskin, with furs strapped about his lower legs.
“There. I am unarmed. Shall I help you or no?”
Reluctantly, Eliani gave him the rope. He pulled up the slack, then set himself to haul and glanced at her.
Eliani looked over the edge. “Are you ready?”
Luruthin looked up at her. “Yes. Shall I come up?”
“Not yet.”
She stepped back and nodded to Ulithan, who began to haul at the rope. When she heard Vanorin coming near the top she sheathed her sword and went to help him over the edge.
The captain winced in pain as he crawled onto the ledge; Eliani felt sharp flashes of it in his khi. Her hands went at once to his ankle, which she could feel had swollen inside the boot.
After a moment she sighed. “Not broken.”
She glanced at Ulithan, who still stood holding the rope. Carefully, she took the loop from around Vanorin’s shoulders and tossed it down to Luruthin.
“Send up his pack and bow.”
A sound of shifting made her glance up. Ulithan was stepping toward his belongings, still holding the rope. Eliani rose to her feet, hand to her sword hilt, but relaxed when she saw him pick up his furred cloak and shake off the snow. He carried it toward her, offering it at arm’s length.
She laid the cloak over Vanorin and knelt beside him. His eyes were closed, his face twisted in pain.
Luruthin called his readiness. Eliani nodded to Ulithan, who began hauling at the rope again. She watched him bring up Vanorin’s gear and stack it away from the edge. She could hear Luruthin climbing now.
Ulithan coiled the rope, laid it beside Vanorin’s gear, then moved to where his belt lay. Eliani kept an eye on him, not yet ready to trust him. He put on his belt and stayed by the cliff wall, watching her with his black eyes.
Luruthin reached the ledge, caught sight of Ulithan and paused halfway over the edge, staring in alarm. “Who is that?”
“A friend, I think. He helped bring Vanorin up.”
Ulithan came toward them. “May I help you as well?”
Luruthin heaved himself over the edge, wincing as he set his weight on his knees. He got to his feet and stepped between Eliani and Ulithan, glaring at the alben.
“This is Ulithan.” Eliani met Ulithan’s gaze. “I am Eliani, and this is Luruthin, my cousin. That is Vanorin.”
Ulithan nodded. “You are welcome to shelter in any of the caves, but I think you should come into mine for now. I have a fire there. Shall I carry him?”
He stepped toward Vanorin, looking to Eliani for approval. She nodded.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He knelt and gently picked up the injured captain. Luruthin caught Eliani’s eye, frowning. She gave a shrug and reached for Vanorin’s bow and quiver, while Luruthin took up his pack.
They followed Ulithan along the ledge through the gusting snow, passing the dark mouths of several caves before Ulithan stopped at one. He glanced back at Eliani and Luruthin, then stepped into what looked like a mere hollow in the cliff wall, higher and narrower than the one where Eliani and her party had sheltered the night of Kelevon’s attack.
Eliani closed her eyes as she pushed away that memory. When she opened them again she saw Ulithan step around a protrusion of rock and disappear. She hurried after him, and found herself in a narrow corridor that ran deep into the cliff.
Vanorin gave a startled gasp as his injured foot brushed the wall. Ulithan murmured an apology and continued forward.
There was almost no light in the passage, though Eliani could see Ulithan’s form moving before her. Despite the closeness of the walls she was relieved to be out of the snow and wind. She caught a whiff of wood smoke, and a faint, pungent smell of dried leaves, then saw light ahead as the passage opened into a larger cave.
It was roughly circular, perhaps three rods across, and was lit by a small bed of glowing coals at one side. A circle of rocks contained the fire, and the smoke rose into a small crack in the cave’s ceiling.
The walls were dotted with rows of pegs from which hung deerskin clothing, untrimmed skins, furs, bunches of dried herbs, a bow and two quivers. Small shelves mounted high on the walls held wooden bowls and cups, rough pottery jars, gourds, feathers, and animal skins. One longer shelf held a large number of what looked like more skins, these small and rolled, neatly stacked.
Ulithan went to the fire and gently laid Vanorin on a heap of furs beside it. Luruthin entered the cave, set Vanorin’s pack against the wall, and took off his own.
Eliani unshouldered hers as well, sighing with relief. She left it with Vanorin’s quiver and bow and her own, though she kept both her sword an
d Birani’s with her.
She went forward to the fire and knelt beside Vanorin. Ulithan moved back to give her room.
She glanced at him. “Thank you for your kindness.”
He smiled slightly and nodded, then stood up. “Please make yourselves at home. It is long since I had any visitors.”
Luruthin came to sit beside Eliani. He, too, had kept on the sword he wore, and his hand rested on its hilt as he watched Ulithan go to a shelf and take down a gourd and a pottery jug. Trusting Luruthin’s suspicion, Eliani turned her own attention to Vanorin’s injury.
Gently she drew the fur cloak—rabbit furs, she now noticed, meticulously stitched together and wonderfully soft—away from Vanorin’s foot. He lay with eyes closed, breathing shallowly. Eliani held her hands above his ankle, careful not to touch it as healing began to flow from her palms.
Vanorin gave a soft moan, and his breathing slowed somewhat. Eliani closed her eyes and let go of all thoughts beyond the khi flowing through her. She guided it into the swollen flesh, felt it ease pain and begin to mend the damage. She stayed still, unaware of time passing until at last she noticed her hands growing cool.
When she opened her eyes she saw Luruthin still seated nearby, watching Ulithan. Their host was stirring something in the pottery jug, which sat over the coals at one side of the fire. Minted steam rose from the jug, a comforting smell. Ulithan sensed her gaze and glanced up, smiling shyly.
“A healer.” His voice was soft and low. “Welcome indeed. Will you have some tea?”
“Thank you, yes.”
He took the jug from the fire and poured from it into a wooden cup, which he then offered to Eliani. He had taken off his gloves, and she saw that his fingers were long and dexterous. All his movements were unhurried and fluid.
She watched him as she sipped the tea, its warmth spreading through her chest. Ulithan offered tea to Luruthin, then poured a third cup and glanced inquiringly from Vanorin to Eliani.
She shook her head. “Let him rest.”
Ulithan nodded and returned the jug to the fire, settling back and sipping from the cup himself. Eliani gazed at him, wondering what to make of him. Though his coloring proclaimed him a victim of the alben’s curse, something in the lines of his face reminded her of Greenglens.
