She opened her eyes and found herself lying on her back in a deep trench, sealed in by a mesh of sturdy branches lashed together with nylon cords. Above her, green limbs splayed into a leafy canopy layered under a flat, gray sky. Every now and then, droplets of water would shower down from the boughs, though her own makeshift prison remained dry. Of Moriah, there was no sign. She could only hope the girl was being held in a separate cage. She preferred not to entertain thoughts of the alternative.
Tess pushed herself up and crawled over to the open end of the cage. She grasped the branches and shook, but the structure would not yield. Once she was on her feet, she could see over the lip of the trench. Her enclosure was at the edge of what she could only assume was the Akorite outpost, or at least a provisional camp. The remains of a fire smoldered in the center of a flattened patch of ground, surrounded by trampled ferns.
The commotion continued somewhere in the recesses of the forest, too far for Tess to pick out individuals. Now and then, a gunshot would crack amidst the voices. The glade was empty, and though she craned her neck to expand her view of the surrounding area, she could see no guards.
With renewed vigor, she pried at the cords fastening the mesh together, clawing at them in an attempt to undo the knots. The cords were lashed tightly, however, and though she worked her fingers raw, she soon realized it was futile.
Tess changed her tactic. She gripped the mesh in its center with both hands and propped her feet against the inner lip of the trench, so that she hung almost parallel to the ground. Digging her heels into the earth, she pulled down on the entire structure. The mesh bent and bowed, but the branches were yet green and would not break.
She knew she had little time before a guard returned, so she kept at it, heaving her shoulders back and forth, until at last, the branches dislodged from the packed earth and she fell back into the trench, bringing the mesh down with her.
Tess scrambled out from under the broken structure and pulled herself out into the open. She crouched and ducked against the nearest tree, holding her breath. The forest surrounding her remained still. She quickly searched the camp area, but found nothing that would be of use to her. They must have carried off her weapons.
She paused for a moment, listening to the distant din. Part of her wanted to go investigate, for if the Akorites and the Preceptors were at arms, she could both help and be helped, but she dared not venture off into Akorite territory by herself again. Instead, Tess took off in the opposite direction, weaving through the trees.
The ground dropped away ahead of her—she was heading towards the valley. If she could make it there, she could gather a force and make back towards the camp to put an end to the skirmish.
The trees thickened in tight groves, and Tess shouldered her way between the thick trunks. She burst out onto a ledge, where, without warning, the mountainside dropped away as though a giant axe had split it in two. She skidded to a halt. Far below, jagged rocks seemed to wait for her to fall to her demise.
Footfalls behind her. She whirled around.
A young Akorite emerged from the knotted trees, casually training his gun on her. Blood ran down the right side of his face from a gash across his temple, but a grin split his face. “Didn’t know you were being followed, did you?”
As he spoke, two more guerrillas, a male and a female, joined him on the ledge, each with their own scrapes and bruises. Both were armed.
Tess’ nostrils flared, and her eyes darted around, searching for any means of escape. The three Akorites hemmed her in, forcing her closer to the edge. Her hand went to her waist where her gun should have been. Steeling herself, she faced them. “You know my rank,” she warned, “You would not dare kill me. The capitol—”
The ringleader cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Whether we dare or not is irrelevant.” He spoke in haughty tones. “But breathe easy, Preceptor. If we wanted you dead, we’d have let the snapjaws to the dirty work last night.”
Tess eyed him warily. “Where is my fourth ranker?”
The Akorite shrugged. “We let her go. She was of no use to us. Maravek and his cronies can scramble about like blind moles and riddle the forest with bullets all they want—they won’t find us, or you, unless we want them too. And when that time comes, I’ll put a bullet in the crockpot he carries on his shoulders.”
“If killing Maravek is what you want,” said Tess, “What good am I to you?”
More gunshots echoed off the hills.
“You came to us, Preceptor,” said the Akorite. “And your capture has already drawn the coward from his hiding-hole.” He winked. “I’m sure we’ll find a good use for you.” He motioned with his hand.
The woman advanced towards her. Tess knew it was pointless to resist, but found some small comfort in the fact that, for now at least, they wanted her alive. Her arms were bound and her mouth gagged, and while her companions futilely shouted and fired in all the wrong places, the Akorites dragged her away.
* * *
Ram crashed through the underbrush, and as the afternoon sun dwindled into evening, so dwindled his hopes of ever finding Kora. He had no idea which way he was going at this point. He only know that the river was at his back somewhere, and the Akorites were headed the opposite direction...somewhere. The odds of finding any sort of trail that he'd be able to follow were slim, but he'd given his word, so he plowed on ahead with little regard to stealth.
As he pressed on, Daniel’s words echoed in his mind, and he wondered if he had made the wrong choice. It would be dark soon, and he knew better than to wander the forest at night, yet to stop meant giving up on rescuing Kora. On the other hand, if he changed his mind and tried to catch up with Daniel, he’d likely end up even more lost than he was now. Nor could he shake from his head the prospect of getting eaten by wolves, or torn apart by snapjaws, or meeting his end at the hands of whatever beastly thing the forest decided to send his way.
“Stay with it, Ramsey,” he said to himself, “You got yourself into this mess, and you’ll find a way out.” While his options all had dismally low chances at success, he mustered some small amount of courage and continued northwest.
As the shadows of the trees stretched out before him, Ram spotted a trail of smoke rising from among the trees like a ghostly tendril. He stopped in his tracks. Could fortune really favor him this heavily? Besides the Akorites and Daniel, he knew of no one that would dare roam the Untamables at night—unless, of course, one were to be lost and have no alternative, as was his case.
Regardless, smoke meant a fire, and a fire meant people. He had nothing else to go on, and he could use the descending darkness to his advantage while he snuck and spied. Ram unclipped the knife from his belt, altered his course to the left a bit, and headed towards the smoke.
Paranoia seized him, and he kept checking over his shoulders. No one followed him, nor had anyone or anything stirred from the direction of the smoke. Still, he treaded lightly, placing his feet carefully in patches of moss or on sturdy roots.
In a short while, he was close enough to hear the snap of embers in the fire. The sun clipped the tip of the mountains to his left, and a chill rode the air. It would be dark in a few hours, and the thought of a warm fire to stop by was enticing. However, it would be foolish to blunder out into the open without taking a closer look first, and Daniel had given him strict orders not to do anything stupid.
He was about to sneak closer when a movement to his right made him pause. He studied the forest in that direction, but saw nothing. He blinked. Something moved again. Just a swift shadow in the trees—probably no more than a bird or a squirrel—but it made him nervous. It could be anything out there. The idea of a fire was getting more appealing by the second.
He took the knife in his hand and made the light that flickered beyond the trees. He found what felt like a safe spot in the crook of an oak, and from there, he peered out to see what he could see.
Past the oak, the forest broke up into smaller groves of trees scattere
d over the slope. Long shadows pointed downhill like inky fingers. Not too far away from him, a campfire blazed in a ring of stones, separated enough from any of the trees that the low branches would not catch fire.
A man sat on a log in front of the fire, and now and again he would poke the embers with a long stick, sending up a miniature volcano of snapping sparks. The man was young, and dressed in the colors of the forest. With the hand not holding the stick, he clutched at his shoulder, as though in pain, though his face betrayed no suffering.
Ram examined the clearing. Kora was not there, and he didn’t recognize this man as being one of her captors. All the same, he wasn’t sure how wise it would be to reveal himself without knowing if this man was friend or foe. He wasn’t a Preceptor, and he didn’t appear to be armed, but Ram hesitated.
A growl startled him, and he nearly leapt up into the branches of the oak. He spun around and froze. A pair of gleaming amber eyes stared back at him from between two spindly trees. White fangs reflected the light of the fire at his back. A creature emerged—a tawny wildcat.
Sweat beaded on Ram’s palms. He fumbled with the knife. His fingers slipped; he could not get a grip on the hilt.
Then a voice spoke from behind him. “Don’t turn around. Take slow steps back towards the fire. Don’t run.”
Was that the stranger? It didn't matter. Ram did as he was told, taking precarious steps backwards on wobbling legs. The brutish feline watched his every movement. It began to follow slowly, but Ram knew it could lunge at him any second. He pictured those long fangs latching onto his throat, and he sped up a bit.
"Calmly, now!" said the stranger.
It was all Ram could do to not turn around and make a mad dash for the fire, but in a few more short steps he was clear of the trees and could feel the heat from the flames at his back.
The wildcat paused at the edge of the glade, peering out with eyes that seemed to glow. It growled again.
"Good, now stop." The stranger appeared at his side, wielding a makeshift torch. His hand still clutched his shoulder. "We need to get to the other side of the fire."
Ram nodded. Keeping the fire to his right, he started to back around it.
The cat stepped out into the open. Its smoky fur shimmered red in the light of the fire.
Ram had almost made it to the other side when his heel hit one of the stones lining the fire. He lost his balance and landed flat on his rear.
The cat lunged. In two bounds it closed the gap, a snarl on its lips. Ram's arms and legs locked in place. He couldn't move.
The cat sprang at him, but the stranger stepped in the way, brandishing his flaming branch like a sword. The cat collided with him, and man and beast tumbled to the ground, so close to the flames that Ram thought they would both catch on fire.
The stranger kicked at the cat’s face, knocking it back. The beast charged again, this time right at the stranger.
Ram's limbs suddenly sprang to life, and he leaped to his feet. He finally managed to get a firm grip on the knife. His heart drummed in his chest as he ran towards the fray.
The stranger shouted something incomprehensible. His hands gripped the wildcat’s head, struggling to keep the beast at bay.
The cat snarled and yelped viciously, snapping at the stranger's neck.
Ram clutched the knife with a tight fist, let out a wild bellow, and darted forward. He clenched his eyes shut and blindly swung the knife. Honed claws sliced down his forearm, drawing blood. He felt the blade sink into something, and a moment later he, the stranger, and the cat fell to the ground in a tangle of feet, paws, and limbs.
Ram frantically crawled away from the pile, hoping he hadn't stabbed the stranger instead of the wildcat.
It was quiet. Only the fire crackled.
The stranger stirred, coughed, and pushed himself to his feet.
Ram let out a sigh of relief and stood with him, still shaking. The cat lay prone on the ground. Ram's knife protruded from its eye.
The stranger yanked it out with a wet squelch.
Ram's stomach felt sick.
The stranger wiped the blade on the grass and handed it to Ram. "I guess that's what we get for being out in the mountains so close to nightfall." He chuckled.
Ram couldn't find his tongue.
"Thanks for the help, there." The stranger paused, observing him. "What draws you out into the Untamables? Are you alone?"
Ram licked his lips and cleared his throat, trying to speak without sounding as terrified as he still was. "Me? I'm not—" he cut himself off.
The stranger casually waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. I won't pry." His tired eyes landed on the scratch on Ram's arm. "You need to get that tended to."
Ram stared blankly at the wound. The shock was wearing off, and it was really starting to throb. Blood oozed out. "Yeah, I think so."
The stranger doused the fire with loose dirt. "Come with me. My people can help you."
Ram nodded, feeling light headed.
"Can you walk all right?"
Another nod.
"Good," the stranger said. He took off his jacket and sweater and tore a wide strip from his undershirt. He wrapped it tightly around Ram's arm. "That should stop the bleeding for now. Come with me." He set off, putting his sweater and jacket back on.
As he did so, Ram noticed an ugly wound in the stranger’s shoulder. It looked like a bullet hole. He decided not to ask about it.
The stranger set off, and Ram hurried to keep up, keeping pressure on his arm. He bit his lip, trying to ignore the pain. Why was the stranger offering so much help? He studied him more closely, searching for any clue to the stranger's identity.
"By the way," the stranger said, as if reading his thoughts, "My name is Koldin. I’d hear your story, but I won’t press you if you’re the secretive type. Still, a man only walks the wilderness alone if he is looking for something, or someone. Fair guess?"
"You could say that,” said Ram, and he gave Koldin his name.
Koldin glanced sideways at him, a curious glint in his eye. “Then it is a bit of luck that our paths crossed tonight. I’m looking for someone as well, but my search led me farther than I had planned, so I built the fire and was just getting ready for a watchful night when you showed up. And I dare say, you certainly brought the excitement with you.”
Ram nodded woefully. He decided to take the risk. “I’m looking for a friend. She was taken away earlier today by…by the Akorites.”
At this, Koldin stopped in his tracks and faced him. “Taken by Akorites?” His voice went cold, and a worry flashed in his dark eyes. “If what you say is true, then we may very well be seeking the same person. You search for Kora?”
Ram blinked in surprise. “You know her?”
The stranger ignored his question. He set to pacing back and forth. “If the Akorites got their hands on her,” he said, as though to himself, “Then we must hurry all the more.” He resumed his march at such a pace that Ram had to jog to catch him.
“How do you know about Kora?” He asked, “And where are they taking her?”
Koldin kept his eyes fixed on the ground. “Kora is my cousin. Now talk less and walk more. We may yet be able to save her life.”
* * *
The Howling Crags loomed over Daniel like mighty giants challenging him, daring him, to scale their heights. There was no mistaking them. A sheer wall of stone spread from east to west, and had Kora not promised the existence of a pass through the crags, Daniel would have deemed the task impossible.
For the better part of the afternoon and evening he had crossed hill and valley in the lower reaches of the Untamables, through dense forests, over sparkling streams, and along treacherous ridges that threatened to tip him into the rubble-filled ravines below. But he had endured, and now, closer than ever to Obenon and Litty, he felt his hope renewed.
He stood at the edge of a pleasant fold at the foot of the crags. Here, a spread of grassland gently rolled into a stretch of dark pines. From ther
e the mountain swept upwards to the towering heights that stared back down at him. Snow and ice gleamed in the sunlight in the crevices.
After a brief respite, Daniel pressed on. The sun beat down on him as he crossed the bare meadow, and it was a relief to enter the shade of the pines. He dared not linger, however, for even at this height, idling in the forest was as good as a death sentence. And though his course veered slightly in the confines of the trees, he emerged without harm on the other side.
Putting the forest at his back, Daniel studied the crags. Between him and them lay a white incline of stones, boulders, and sparse vegetation. This stretch would be laborious to scale, but even more so would be the massive pyres of rock and ice that jutted into the sky beyond, with dark crevices and ravines between them. Remembering Kora’s words, Daniel sought out the twin pyres that rose above their unwavering brethren. The gutter of ice and rubble that split the crags looked like anything but a traversable path, but he had no choice other than to trust Kora’s judgment. Here, he would not be turned; here, he would climb.
He marked the position of the pass in his mind and plotted out the swiftest course to access its narrow opening. Then, he inhaled the mountain air as though it would embolden him, and left the tree line behind. At first, the going was relatively easy. The way was a field of stones, but these were steady, and his footing remained sure. But as Daniel climbed, the sun descended, and with the dusk came a shrill wind that battered at him, as though it wanted nothing else than to pick him up and fling him back down the mountain.
Daniel hunched his shoulders, shielded his face with his arm, and would not be deterred. The way grew steeper, the air colder, and before long, the mountain had taken its toll on his limbs and lungs. He stopped to catch his breath and leaned against a rounded boulder. The stone dislodged, and Daniel lost his balance. He tumbled down the slope head over heels a good twenty yards before sliding to a stop.
The boulder bounced down after him, and Daniel had to dive out of the way to avoid being crushed. He lay on the cold stones, breathless and bruised. Having so narrowly avoided a quick end to his journey, he resolved to be more cautious. He continued up the mountain.
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