The Road to Light (The Path of Zaan Book 1)

by C. K. Rieke

  Gogenanth and Astor crept over to peer at the stone. They both examined it. Astor took it from Zaan’s hand and held it up in the light of the fire. “I have no idea what this is. It is beautiful, though. The fire seems to burn slower when looking through the gem.”

  Astor handed it over to Gogenanth, who almost dropped it as it fell across his big hand. He held it up to the fire and into the sky. He shrugged his shoulders and handed it back to Zaan. “Maybe one of the elders at Barrier Cliff will know what it is.”

  “And you say that they fought over this stone. Hmm, interesting. They even killed one another for it,” Astor said as he looked into the air, scratching his chin.

  “Yes. The way they talked about it, it’s like this one stone is what everyone had been mining for. I hope somebody knows what it is. Actually, there is something else about it.” Zaan told them the story of the one night in the locked cell where he’d tried to use the Azulūz, and when he had held the stone and smelled the intoxicating smoke from the torch.

  Gogenanth and Astor listened intently. “Well, that is something,” Gogenanth said. “The Azulūz is mysterious and behaves differently in each person, but flying . . . That is miraculous. My powers are of an illusionary variety. Yours may be, well, I shouldn’t guess. But I can’t believe you used it without any training. That’s amazing.”

  “I haven’t tried to use it again. Just that one time,” Zaan said.

  “What about now? Could you try to use it now?” Astor asked.

  “I don’t know. I could try, I guess,” Zaan replied. “What do I do, Gogenanth?”

  “Well, what they will train you to do up north is to create chants to focus on the Azulūz, to envision what you want to create or do, and to repeat it until it becomes natural,” he said to Zaan, who was focusing in on his words.

  “Okay. I’ll give it a try.” Zaan closed his eyes, held the stone in his hand, and focused. He tried to smell the smoke from the fire, and envisioned himself floating above it, high in the air. He started to feel like he became lighter, and he could feel the warmth of the fire beneath him. “How am I doing?”

  “Well,” Astor said, “you do look like you are trying.”

  Zaan opened his eyes, and he was still in the same spot.

  “Like I said, they will train you up north,” Gogenanth said with a smile.

  “What about you, Astor? Do you have the Azulūz?” Zaan asked.

  “No, Zaan, I don’t. I’m what you’d call an honorary member. My aunt Elindrill has it, and I believe you met her briefly. It was at that same meeting where you met Gogenanth, actually. She is how I met him as well, rescuing him.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here to help us. It feels so good to be free again, it’s impossible to put into words. And now to be back with friends; it is the best feeling imaginable.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot, Zaan.” Gogenanth reached into his pocket and produced the golden compass. The reflection of the warm, golden fire made it appear to glow.

  Zaan reached up and grabbed it eagerly. He looked at it, and a smile grew across his face, and his lip began to quiver. “Thank you, thank you for this. It is all I have left of home. Thank you.”

  The rest of the night they caught up on stories; their faces were illuminated by the golden fire in front, their backs lit blue from the circle of blue fires around the camp.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  HE was stirred awake by the intoxicating smell of sweet, smoky pork. Zaan’s mouth was watering. Gogenanth was roasting an entire wild pig over their fire. Zaan looked at the pig, wide-eyed, but didn’t notice the saliva spilling out of his mouth. Gogenanth took a small piece of crisp skin off the side of the now hairless animal and held it out to Zaan.

  “It won’t be cooked for another hour or two, but you look hungry,” he said.

  Zaan took the piece of meat from him. The cooked skin was hot on his fingers and crunched between the force of them. He held it up to his nose and breathed deeply to fill his lungs with the aroma. Then he slowly laid it on his tongue, to let the fat melt slightly before he bit down. It crackled in between his teeth, and he swished it around his mouth. An exhalation of pure satisfaction came from him.

  “I rubbed it with a smoked salt from the south,” Gogenanth said. He took a bite of the skin. “Pretty good.”

  It was the single best bite of food that Zaan had ever taken in his life. It was at that moment that he truly realized how horrible it had been in the mines and could look back and recall what had happened. He began to cry, and soon he was sobbing into his arms. He thought about the things he had done to survive, the talks with his sister, and the animal he had become. The way they would claw and shove each other out of the way to get water and moldy food. He felt different now. He couldn’t quite describe it, but the world felt smaller and less frightening to him. After he caught his breath, he thought to himself that he was ready for anything now.

  “When do we leave for Barrier Cliff?” Zaan asked.

  “We will leave for Holdenbrook this afternoon, after Astor gets back,” Gogenanth replied, licking his fingers.

  The air was cool, but the sun was warm this day. The three of them walked along the edge of the forest, their bellies full. Zaan had been given the slaver’s shoes, and he smiled while wearing them, walking tall and proud. He had also been given the slaver’s sword. It was a long thin blade, strong and shiny. The hilt was silver, and it had a tiger’s head at the bottom. It was engraved with the words “power” on one side and “strength” on the other. In his other hand he held his father’s compass, which had been taken away from him in the mine.

  In total, they made it to Holdenbrook in twelve hours of walking. On one of Zaan’s feet a blister had formed at the heel, but he thought little of it, as he wore the soft slaver’s shoes and basked in the sunlight. He brushed back his black hair behind his ears as Holdenbrook came into view. It was a small stone town with many people visibly working the surrounding fields. It was fairly obvious this was a farming town, and it reminded Zaan of Fur-lol. As the three walked through town, almost everyone gave a nod or a hello, and they all stared at Gogenanth’s size. His pale complexion, and strong black widow’s peak made him very distinctive-looking to the townspeople. The children stood quietly and watched him and his large strides. Gogenanth was still a wanted man, but he doubted word had made it to this small town.

  As they approached the market, Zaan noticed the beautiful array of colors from the produce available. Even as winter approached, these farmers were able to grow many things he had never seen. Hearty striped squashes and big root vegetables, even a bright yellow small fruit called a zigfruit. He tasted one; it was tart, but slightly sweet.

  “Here, try it with this,” the merchant said as he held out a small glass of a red wine.

  “Wow, that’s remarkable,” Zaan said. “The sweetness of the wine makes the fruit taste even sweeter.” The merchant smiled. Zaan liked touching all of the vegetables around, because it was amazing to him to have so much food, and he could have any of it if he wanted.

  Astor and Gogenanth shopped and bartered with the merchants until they were fully supplied. They bought Zaan a pair of pants that were clean and free of holes. They were fairly heavy, because it would be cold where they were going. They got him a hat that covered his ears, and a new jacket. It felt large on him, but he would grow into it when he got his weight back, he thought.

  The next thing was for Zaan to find where the post was in town. It was a small stone building at the end of the market. In his room in the tavern, he sat by the window, looking out at the forest and the mountains in the distance. He held the quill in hand, not knowing how to begin. Then he wrote:

  Mother and Father,

  I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written. I got your letters in Auracity, but I moved away. I don’t know what my address is or will be yet, but when I do, I’ll let you know. Things have been okay for me. I’ll have stories to tell when
I get back. Right now I’m in Holdenbrook, and heading for Barrier Cliff. I am safe, and I am traveling with friends. We will be traveling for a while, so I won’t be able to write, I’m guessing, but I will stay safe.

  I hope everything is going well at home, and I hope Oscar is being good. I miss you all, and I think of home often. I want to hear more of your stories when I get back, Father, and I dream of your cooking, Mother. Life is so much bigger and stranger than I ever imagined. I’ve grown weak and strong in the months since I left Fur-lol. I wonder if you will even recognize me when I return. I do believe that things are happening to me for some reason, and my life will never be the same. The thought of living in Fur-lol, tending a farm or going to your house every Sunday, makes me laugh. Not that it would be bad, but things are just so much different out here, and I can’t imagine not being a part of it.

  I know you would tell me to be safe, Mother, so I will be. I have good company, and people are looking out for me. I love you both very much. Please take care of yourselves and don’t worry about me. Whatever happens, I think of you both every day, and that’s what makes me keep going. I want to make you proud.

  Love, your son,

  Zaan Talabard

  Gogenanth talked Zaan into rewriting the letter without what town they were in and where they were going. He even made him leave his name off. But Zaan was sure his parents would know who it was from, even without his signature at the bottom.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  THEY started off northward, the three of them. Astor led the way, with Zaan following, and Gogenanth took the rear. They were finishing crossing the plains with the northernmost of the Cascades in view. The plains they were on now were filled with dying grass that crunched under their feet. The air was cool and the wind was bitter. The fields around Holdenbrook behind them were filled with green crops and live grass. Indeed the people of Holdenbrook held some tricks up their sleeves.

  As they progressed closer to the mountains, Zaan grasped the words Gogenanth had spoken about their trip, about it being dangerous. Being from a small town, Zaan had never traversed large mountains before. As they came closer into view and he became smaller in their presence, he felt fear, and excitement.

  He looked back at Gogenanth, looking at some of the strange features of his face and skin, as pale as it was.

  “Are you good at climbing mountains?” Zaan asked. Gogenanth gave a shrug. “I haven’t done it much, myself.”

  “Fair, I guess. Why do you ask?” he replied.

  “I was just wondering where you are from. Did you grow up climbing mountains?” Zaan asked as they continued walking toward the great Cascades.

  “Actually, the opposite,” Gogenanth said with a pause. “My people are desert people.”

  “Oh, from the Bolgivish Desert to the west?” Zaan asked.

  “No, I despise those lands. I am from the lands called the Arr,” Gogenanth told Zaan, a look of curiosity on his face. Gogenanth continued, “The Arr is on the other side of the Elden Sea to the east, and it is almost all one big desert. It is a beautiful place. It is filled with golden lights that hang in the great cities, silver chariots that line clean streets, and the most beautiful women imaginable. Enormous monuments still stand to the great old gods there. Religion is still practiced in that part of the world, at least from last I heard. Although the gods’ names have been erased and forgotten here; over there mighty gods still stand, magnificent and ancient.”

  “I have heard it is quite beautiful over there, although I also hear the desert itself is quite unbearable, if you don’t mind my saying so,” Astor said, trying not to insult his friend. “Not to mention you seem quite pale to be from the desert.”

  “It is a desert. In my experience they are all quite dangerous, if you don’t know how to survive them,” Gogenanth replied, “and yes, I had more color when I was more youthful back then. I would surely not have an enjoyable second day under the hot sun in the Arr.”

  “Will you ever go back?” Zaan asked Gogenanth, who turned and looked to the east. His dark hair whipped behind him as a strong wind blew through.

  “That, young Zaan, is a story for another day.” Gogenanth looked up toward the mountains. The ground was now loose rock, and very little grass was around. Zaan didn’t reply but pulled his jacket up to cover his lower face as the wind swooped down from the rocky hills before them.

  Astor began to climb large rocks and help the other two up and over. He stopped every now and then to assess the best route around and through. He told Zaan a few times that a great danger about climbing is getting somewhere you can’t get out of. He would say it’s sometimes easier to climb up than down, and to plan ahead so you don’t get stuck. After a while Zaan began to see what he was talking about. At one point the troop climbed down onto a ledge that Gogenanth had to hang from to be able to drop down safely.

  It was tiring work, and Zaan had never experienced such elevation. It was more difficult to breathe, and he became lightheaded easily. He would frequently ask Astor if they could stop and rest. Astor always obliged, but Zaan could feel the sense of urgency the other two had.

  “There is little more than an hour left of sunlight remaining. We must find a suitable area to camp,” Astor said as he scanned the area. “Down there looks good.” He pointed fifty yards down to a fairly flat area between two large, jutting rocks.

  Gogenanth and Zaan did not respond, but followed him down.

  “I will start a fire. Why don’t you just sit and warm yourself, Zaan. Are you doing okay?” Astor asked.

  “I’m fine, just tired. I had no idea it would be this hard. My knees feel like wet mud. I’m glad I have these shoes, or my feet would be torn up from these jagged rocks.” Zaan pulled the shoes off and stretched out his long toes while Gogenanth removed his pack and began putting together the tents.

  Astor soon had the fire going, and Zaan found the heat soothing on his face. The three sat silently, looking into the dancing flames and listening to their pops and crackles. This fire reminded Zaan of the one he had made on the road to Auracity many months ago, on the night his life had changed forever.

  They ate a meal of hot pork stew with some root vegetables from Holdenbrook. It was deliciously earthy and salty. With a full belly, Zaan was soon tucked away in his tent. His eyelids were heavy, and his limbs sank into the soft linen on which he lay.

  He awoke some time later to a hand on his shoulder. It was Gogenanth. “Zaan, wake up. Get up, be quiet.” Zaan sat up.

  “What?” Zaan asked, but Gogenanth silenced him with a shushing gesture.

  “Quiet. There is something out there,” Gogenanth whispered. He made a signal with his hand for Zaan to follow him. They both climbed out of the tent.

  Zaan saw Astor with his back to the fire, an arrow pulled taut in his bow. Gogenanth pulled out his scimitar, and Zaan pulled his thin-bladed sword from its scabbard. All was deathly silent. There they stood, waiting for something. A bead of sweat fell from Zaan’s brow.

  “What are we looking for?” Zaan asked the two.

  “Shhh, listen,” Astor replied.

  A low growl came from the near distance. Astor and Gogenanth both turned that direction, and then another lower growl came from behind them.

  “Come in close,” Gogenanth said to Zaan, who stood next to the fire in between them.

  Zaan’s heart raced as beady yellow eyes began to appear around them, illuminated by the firelight.

  “Damn, wolves,” Astor said, “they must have followed us. Listen to me, Zaan. These are very quick animals. They are big, yet slender. Always keep your sword between you and them. They don’t like fire, so keep that between you and them as well.”

  Then one of them came into view in front of Gogenanth. It was huge, Zaan thought. It stood almost as tall as Astor, and it was wiry and filthy with thick, gray fur. It snarled at Gogenanth, and Gogenanth snarled back. Zaan guessed it was to scare the wolf. More snarls sounded around
them.

  “Kill it, Gogenanth!” Astor yelled as he quickly turned and shot an arrow at the wolf. The wolf dodged it with great agility, but was caught off guard by Gogenanth’s speed and a great sweep of his scimitar. Gogenanth’s sword fell into the left shoulder of the great beast. It let out an unworldly snarl, made with pure anger and pain, then lurched at Gogenanth and snapped its giant sharp teeth. Gogenanth dodged to the side and swung his sword at the beast, distracting it while an arrow whistled and struck the wolf in the side of head, directly below the temple. While it writhed in pain, Gogenanth darted to the side of the beast and drove his sword into the back of its neck, nearly cleaving its head clean off. Deafening howls sounded all around them then. Zaan had to cover his ears, dropping his sword.

  Gogenanth held his bloody blade up, and Astor kept his bow and arrow taut. Zaan’s hands shook as he picked up his sword and held it out. Slowly the howling dissipated around them and it was silent again. Astor turned and stoked the fire.

  “I’d imagine they won’t bother us again tonight, but I’ll stand first watch,” Astor said as he put his hand on Zaan’s shoulder. Zaan knelt down to look at the wolf’s head and body on the rocks. Its head was massive, like a still boulder with dull, yellow garnets for eyes. A pool of blood lay at its base.

  “That was amazing, Gogenanth. I can’t believe you can move that fast.” Gogenanth only stared at the wolf’s head.

  “It was either us or her,” Gogenanth said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  THE thought of a wolf tearing through the thin canvas kept Zaan too alert to sleep soundly. He emerged from the tent flaps under the early-morning sun to see Gogenanth sitting by the small flickering fire. Astor was in his tent, Zaan assumed, because the tent flaps were shut.

  “Hey,” Gogenanth said to Zaan.

  “Hey,” he replied. After a moment he asked, “Are you okay?”