by Sever Bronny
He forced a smile. “Yes, Mother.”
After breakfast, they packed up and departed, Augum leading, map in hand. He stopped almost immediately, sniffing the air, smelling something foul.
“Oh no—” Haylee said from behind.
Augum surveyed the bleak terrain. “I don’t see any—” but he caught movement—a shadow had formed on the ground! He jumped, tackling the girls just in time as a large winged harpy swooped over them, leaving behind a ghastly stench. It clicked its beak as it soared.
“Shyneo!” the group chorused as they got to their feet. Rucksacks were left on the ground as everyone fanned out in defensive stances.
“Now what do we do!” Haylee cried.
“Kill it,” Augum said, though he hadn’t the faintest idea how.
The harpie circled overhead. Suddenly something shot out of a clump of trees at it.
“That’s an arrow!” Bridget shouted. “Someone’s over there—!”
There was a familiar piercing war cry.
“It can’t be—” Bridget said as they began running to the spot. Another arrow shot at the harpy, clipping its wing. The thing immediately dove, disappearing behind trees.
Augum and Bridget were the first to get there, finding a snow-skinned Henawa warrior rolling in the snow as the harpy ran after, beak clicking. The warrior wore heavy wolf pelt and his face was painted with streaks.
“Baka!” Augum and Bridget shouted at the same moment, shoving the air before them. The harpy squawked as it was sent tumbling, giving the warrior just enough time to find his bow, nock it, and loose an arrow. It missed by a hair, disappearing into the snow behind the creature.
“Hold it!” Augum yelled, reaching out a hand and concentrating on Telekinesis. Bridget, Leera and Haylee helped, their combined arcanery holding the thing in place long enough for the warrior to shoot another arrow. This time it struck true, piercing the harpy’s chest. The thing struggled rabidly in their arcane grip. The warrior dropped his bow and ran at it while withdrawing a war axe. He promptly buried it in the creature’s skull, silencing it once and for all.
The foursome dropped their hands, letting the harpy fall to the ground in a heap of feathers and blood.
The warrior turned around, shoulders rising and falling in time to his frosty breathing. Underneath a wolfhead hood was short milky hair.
Bridget took a step forward. “Chaska—”
“Bridget.” Chaska secured the war axe in his belt. “You should not have interfered.”
“What? What do you—”
“My nemana was to slay a winged demon. I was to do it alone.”
“But you followed us—”
“—I was to do it alone!”
“Don’t you talk to her that way!” Haylee said, chin rising.
Chaska flashed her a hard look. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me, you foul oaf. She’s my friend, and you won’t disrespect her.”
“It’s okay,” Bridget said, staying Haylee with a hand. “This is our friend, Haylee. Haylee, this is Chaska. He’s Henawa.”
“Why did you follow us?” Augum asked. “And how did the harpies not find you earlier?”
Chaska’s fierce eyes fell upon Haylee before he strode past to reclaim his bow. “Father told me to watch over you for the first portion of your journey. Said it was part of my nemana. And as for the harpies, Henawa know how to remain hidden, keep their scent downwind.”
Bridget sighed. “I’m sorry, we didn’t know we should have let you slay it alone. I’m sure you would have succeeded—”
“—come on, Bridget,” Haylee interrupted. “Thing would have torn him to shreds if it hadn’t been for us. He was rolling in the snow for his life.”
Chaska’s painted face twisted with anger. “I could handle myself. I didn’t need your help. Now I have to kill another one to complete my nemana.”
Haylee opened her mouth to argue but was stayed by a look from Bridget.
“Come with us,” Bridget said. “We can help each other. Mrs. Stone had to leave, and without any offensive spells, well …”
Chaska glanced between the dead harpy and the mountains. “We should bury it, otherwise it will attract the others.”
“Does that mean you’ll be coming with us then?” Bridget asked.
Chaska gave a nod and started digging. Augum, Bridget and Leera held their noses while helping to bury the nasty thing.
“He’s a barbarian, I’m not going near him,” Haylee said when Leera asked if she was going to lend them a hand. “But I’ll help move the—” she made an icky gesture at the harpy “—thing with Telekinesis.”
“You think him barbaric because that’s the way you were raised,” Bridget said in compassionate tones when they finished. “He’s not a barbarian. None of the Henawa are.”
“A barbarian is someone who burns down a village of innocents,” Augum said. He extended his hand to Chaska, who accepted it. “Glad you’re with us.”
“Thanks.” Chaska frowned at Haylee. “I grew up with ignorance. Used to it. I was ignorant, and kind of still am in a lot of ways.”
Haylee did not meet his gaze and said nothing.
They retrieved their rucksacks and resumed their journey, now a quintet.
The Muranians loomed above, snowy like the face of a Henawa warrior, the streaks of visible rock his face paint. Augum wondered how they were going to fare climbing them. Will the harpies follow them up so high? Will an avalanche sweep them to their deaths? Soon they’ll be out of the reach of Nana’s teleport, and if something should happen, there will be little she could do for them …
Bridget filled Chaska in on their quest as they crept along the rocky plateau before beginning the climb up the Muranians. It started as a gentle incline through waist-high snow, the occasional boulder providing relief from a bitter and unceasing wind. They kept their faces covered as much as possible, hoods drawn tight.
The map called for a trek to a spot marked by a black rectangle several mountains over. The question was which mountain was the correct one? The map had gotten them this far, but the crude illustrations made navigation a bit of a guessing game.
“Slow down there, Aug, we’re falling behind—!” Bridget called from below a few hours later. He turned to find the girls and Chaska strung out a ways down the slope like scattered petals of a flower. The incline had steepened and somehow he had made it a personal challenge, just like when he was a boy confronted with a monstrous willow … except he had neglected to wait on everyone, a stupid thing to do. What if one of them got in trouble? How would he get to them?
He plopped down to wait. At least it was one heck of a view—the sun beat sharply on the slope, making the entire range glitter. The Ravenwood sprawled to the west, a vast sea of snowy evergreens. Somewhere in that great forest sat Castle Arinthian. Was Nana there that very moment? Was Father pursuing her? He imagined a great battle involving arcane castle defenses.
He opened his waterskin, taking a sip. Then he realized something—they had long passed the tree line. From here on it was only rock and snow. Doubtful they’d stumble across a stream to refill their skins in the snowy mountains …
“Hey there, climber,” Bridget said, gasping and plopping down beside him, purposefully keeping her back to the view. “What’s the rush?”
“Sorry, got carried away.”
She took a drink of water as they waited for Chaska, Haylee and Leera. “We’re going to have to figure out a way to make a fire, you know.”
“And how to get more water.”
“We can make water by melting snow with fire.” Bridget placed a hand above her eyes and scanned the slopes above. “We also have to keep an eye out for a place to camp, maybe a ledge or something.” She paused. “I don’t see anything yet.”
She looked back accidentally and yelped, hiding her face.
“Is it the height?” he asked.
She nodded vigorously, trying to control her breathing.
&
nbsp; “I hate to say it, Bridge, but it’s only going to get worse.”
“I know, I know …”
Haylee caught up at last, panting for breath. “Can … we … slow … down … please?”
“Of course, sorry about that,” he said.
She slumped to a seat beside him. Chaska, who was right behind her, was about to take a seat when she placed her rucksack in that spot. He scowled and sat beside Bridget instead.
Leera soon joined them, too tired to even speak.
Augum shook his head dramatically at her. “Defeated by a small hill …”
She raised her arm to punch his shoulder but dropped it, grimacing with exhaustion.“Think we need a break,” Augum said, trying to keep the mood light. “Anyone hungry?”
They looked at him as if the answer should be obvious.
Lunch was quiet and simple—journey bread, salted dry beef, cheese, and pemmican shared by Chaska. When they finished, they sat a little bit longer, enjoying the view, allowing the food to settle.
“You know,” Haylee began, “if someone would have told me a year ago where I’d be right now and with whom, I’d have told them they were stupid fools.”
Augum cracked a grin. “You saying we’re bad company?”
She smiled warmly at him, a smile that faltered when she saw Chaska trimming his fingernails with his teeth.
“Do you mind?”
Chaska looked about before realizing she was talking to him. “Huh?”
“Could you please not do that?”
“Do what?” He finished off his thumbnail.
“Groom your nails like that. It’s disgusting.”
Chaska flushed, dropping his hand. “Oh.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else?” he said.
“Anything else what?”
“Anything else you’d like to comment on, maybe change about me?”
Haylee’s eyes narrowed. “Want me to start a list?”
“Stop it,” Bridget said, giving them both a pleading look. “Please.”
“Sorry,” Chaska said, wiping paint from his face with a cloth. “I’m better than that now.”
“Oh, so now he thinks he’s better than me,” Haylee said, turning to Augum to elicit a supportive remark.
But Augum exchanged a weary look with Leera instead. “We shouldn’t be arguing,” he remarked. “We’ve got more important things to worry about.”
“Like how to survive up here,” Leera added.
Haylee stood up. “Fine, let’s go then,” and began marching ahead.
“She’s been through a lot,” Bridget said to Chaska as they gathered themselves to follow. “Please try to be patient with her.”
“I … I will. For you I will.”
The incline increased yet again, making the going more difficult, especially for Bridget. She slowed them to a crawl, sticking to the ground like a frightened cat. She almost began hissing when they found their way onto a knife-edge ridge with barely enough room to walk on.
“There’s no way, absolutely no way!” she said, shaking her head the whole time and refusing to look. Chaska, meanwhile, awkwardly stood behind her, looking like he had no idea what to do with himself.
“Bridge, we have to do this,” Augum said, “and I know you can make it. Look, we’ll even tie everyone together with a rope, all right?” He gestured for Haylee, who took the hint and dug through her rucksack for the rope Mr. Goss purchased for them.
Bridget seemed to draw little comfort from the rope, even though she tied it around herself six times. Augum was glad for it, because a steep slide developed on both sides. Further, they were thousands of feet up now and the winds had increased dangerously.
The pace slowed further when Bridget began worming along on her stomach. Haylee frequently gave Augum looks to get him to persuade Bridget to hurry up, but he ran out of encouragement, and none of it worked anyway. The poor girl would whimper, drag herself forward, whimper again, suddenly clutch at the rope and scream even if it was only a gust of wind—and start the cycle again.
“We’re going to have Chaska carry you if you can’t be more of a woman about this,” Leera said with a grin.
Bridget gave Chaska a ferocious look. “Don’t even—”
“—I wouldn’t unless you asked me to!” Chaska said, raising broad hands in defense.
She made a small effort. Nonetheless, Augum began to worry about the pace. It’d be dark soon and they had yet to find a spot to camp.
After another hour of this awful toil, Haylee pointed ahead. “What’s that?”
Augum squinted to minimize the crimson glare. The ridge flattened for a small stretch. There, inset against the vast whiteness of the mountain, was a black dot. Was it a rock? A cave? It was hard to tell from this distance. At the pace they were going, he estimated they’d reach it after sundown, but being stuck on a knife-edge ridge in the dark, with the wind howling louder than Bridget, was enough for him to try encouraging her again to speed up.
It made no difference—she was simply too afraid of falling.
The delicate trek continued as the ridge became even more precarious. At times, everyone had to crawl on their hands and knees along with Bridget to get past a particularly thin area. Snowdrift piled on the leeward side like a long frozen wave. Augum’s leg pierced it more than once, dangling through the other side and sending his heart to his throat. At those times, he would freeze, breathing rapidly, before slowly extricating himself. A screaming Bridget didn’t help the situation, and more than once Leera had to calm her down by giving her a hug and whispering soothing words.
Bridget would only shake her head and mumble. “No, we’re going to die, we’re going to fall and roll and die …”
The frequency of wind gusts increased as they climbed. When one slammed them, they would hunker down and wait until it passed. Bridget held on to the ridge for dear life during these occasions, begging to be taken back down. Leera comforted her as best she could while Chaska looked on longingly. Augum had the impression the lumbering boy wanted to be the one to cuddle her. He smiled to himself, knowing that feeling all too well.
“Something moved!” Bridget suddenly cried, pointing ahead.
“You’re being hysterical again,” Leera said. Bridget almost forgot her fears with the look she gave Leera. “I’m not going crazy, something really did move!”
Augum squinted. She was right, something was moving, a white figure that disappeared almost entirely into the snowy background—but it did leave a long sunset shadow which gave it away. It hopped onto the ridge and came toward them. By then, everyone had seen it.
“It’s on all fours,” Augum reported, removing his mitts to make it easier to cast a spell. His hands began to numb almost immediately from the wind. “Wait, now it’s not … what is that thing?”
It was built like a snow bear but occasionally stood on hind legs, mostly using its arms to move itself along. Its face was as hairy as the rest of it.
“It almost looks like a white banyan beast,” Bridget said, one hand on Augum’s rucksack for balance.
He prepared to cast the Push spell, hoping to knock the thing off the ridge, should it come to that. Chaska, meanwhile, unslung his bow and nocked an arrow.
As it got closer, it quickly became apparent it was far larger than they anticipated, perhaps twice the height of a man.
“I don’t know about this …” Bridget said, retreating a step.
“Harpies to the north!” Leera suddenly shouted, pointing.
Augum looked up to see three harpies fighting the mountain winds to get at them. They were about two thousand feet down but closing fast, their wings beating frantically.
Haylee began shaking her head. “This is bad, this is bad, this is so bad …”
Augum stared at the beast. There was something peculiar about it—not only would it stop and examine them on hind legs occasionally, but there was also a rope around its chest, as if something was strung on its back. Was
it someone’s pet? Or … suddenly he had an idea.
“Hello there, can you help us!” he called to the white-furred beast.
“It wants to eat us, not talk to us—” Leera said.
The thing stood up on its hind legs and cocked its head. It was now only a hundred paces or so away.
“Looks like you have gained the attention of some harpies,” it said in a casual, growly voice. “Perhaps you should get off the ridge.”
The quintet exchanged incredulous looks.
“Did that giant wolf thing just speak?” Chaska asked.
Leera only nodded, mouth agape.
“Yeah, we’d like to,” Augum called over the wind as the creature got a bit closer. He still didn’t trust it and kept his hands ready. “Thing is,” he added, looking down the sheer drop, “we, uh, we don’t really know how to do that safely.”
“Well you could jump, though I doubt you would survive the fall.”
“Yeah, that’s what we’re thinking too.” Augum shared a look with Bridget. Was this a strange conversation or what? He turned to the beast. “Think we can follow you to that cave there?”
The beast gave a growling chuckle. “Why am I not surprised that you want to invite yourselves over. You lowlanders always do. But since I have so few visitors, I suppose I shall allow it.” He turned his great bushy body, revealing a rucksack strapped to his back, dwarfed by his great bulk.
“We might want to hurry,” Leera said, leading with the rope. “They’re gaining!”
But they couldn’t hurry at all, for Bridget wasn’t moving any faster—if anything, she seemed to have slowed, as if panicked by the urgency of the situation.
Augum, meanwhile, kept one hand on the rope and the other on the ridge for balance. He had dropped his mitts in the scuffle, but didn’t care that his hands were going blue, all he cared about was trying to get off that ridge as quickly as possible. Come on, Bridge, he thought, come on!
“Stop pulling, you’ll kill me!” Bridget yelled.
He glanced down the slope—there was no escaping the fact that the harpies would reach them long before they got off the ridge.
“Damn …” he said under his breath, turning to the snow beast. It sat on its hind legs watching them, halfway to the cave.
