The horned fox moaned, a sound that was nearly human in its intensity, and vanished back into the wood.
"Where is he going?" Helix asked.
"He can't . . ." Iggy's words trailed off, his eyes riveted to the devastation sprawling before them. "He can't stand it. It . . ." He licked his lips, panting as if bearing up an invisible burden. "It hurts to look at."
"By Akir," Syntal breathed. "The Pulse here, it's just . . ." This time, Iggy didn't berate her; apparently, his bizarre forbiddance of Syntal's magic had finally expired. "It's . . . just . . ."
"Flayed," Angbar murmured. He sought out a boulder with his hand, sank down to sit on it. "Raw."
Iggy blanched and sank to the dirt himself. "You can see it?" he asked.
Angbar nodded, his face a mask of dread. "I didn't even . . . I never thought . . ."
"It's no desert," Syntal breathed. "This is . . . Whatever happened here, it . . ."
"It was a chant," Iggy whispered. "A powerful one, but still—just a chant. One chant.
"This used to be part of Ordlan Green."
A glower stole across Seth's face, a sudden glare toward Syntal's books that only Lyseira caught.
"Kesselholm is down there?" Helix asked. "In that?"
Iggy nodded.
"How far?"
Iggy swallowed and steadied himself, then searched the Waste with his eyes. "There." Lyseira followed his finger into the emptiness. She saw slight slopes in the ground, but no landmarks, no keeps.
Helix, too, peered out. "That’s Kesselholm?" he said.
"No. That's a Chi'ite tower—the first one. There's a whole line of them, stretching from Moshun Dar down to the Tairen Sea. They should lead to Kesselholm."
Lyseira scanned the horizon end to end. To her left, the Scar stretched away south-by-southwest, foothills frothing around it like frozen ocean waves. Moshun Dar loomed to her right. But in between . . .
Ah. Now she saw it. From this far, it looked like little more than a pair of stone blocks supporting a third, horizontal block laid across the top. But to even be visible at this distance, it had to be a massive structure.
"We have to go all the way to the sea?" Helix said.
"No. It should be a lot closer than that, but still—it'll be a couple of weeks or more. We have to stay out of the foothills—they'll slow us down. The stag suggested we move from tower to tower, traveling at night, and sleeping in their shade during the day. There's no water out there, no plants—nothing. The water from the Deep-Tree's spring will manage our thirst, provided we make decent time, but without manna, we starve." Iggy glanced a question at Lyseira. She nodded her understanding.
"Great," Angbar said. "How do we get back?"
"That's the easiest part. There's an old pass through the Scar, from Kesselholm to Twosides. If I remember my maps right, the road runs all the way to Keswick."
The throne is in Keswick. Lyseira filed the information away. Helix may get his wish to visit the King after all.
"It's dawn now," Iggy went on. "I say we wait until nightfall, then set out."
Seth nodded at the decline, littered with fallen trees. "It'll be dangerous trying to navigate these hills at night, especially for the horses."
"Not as dangerous as trying to hike under the sun," Iggy replied. "And don't worry about the horses—I'll manage them."
Iggy led them south, picking his way along the ridge until he found a level outcropping on the Green side of the hills. They set up camp there between the trees.
Ordlan Green had been a bizarre and unsettling experience, and Lyseira was eager to put it behind her. But she dreaded that endless waste, too. She slept as the sun crept past, but fitfully—haunted by the tormented ruin of her faith and visions of nothingness that stretched to the horizon.
At dusk, they packed up and started into the leeward side of the foothills. Lyseira called light to guide them, but that only helped her and those immediately around her. Iggy, probing his way forward at the front, had to light a torch, as did Helix and Syntal, bringing up the rear.
Seth was right—it was treacherous going, and slow. The hillsides bristled with fallen trees and jagged outcroppings. Even with clericlight and two torches, even with a waning gibbous moon overhead, the hills were a puzzle box of traps and leaping shadows. She had to take them one step at a time, picking it carefully before trusting it with her weight. A slip could mean more than just a broken ankle or sprained wrist—it could mean a broken neck.
"Carefully," Iggy whispered from the front, leading the horses. "Watch it, now." As dangerous as it was for her, she could only imagine the horses' peril. He should've left them in Ordlan Green. They would've been happy there, she thought, remembering how the animals had bowed when they'd first reached the meadow. But Iggy had explained earlier that the horses were critical to reaching a new Chi'ite tower each night. Once they broke free of the craggy foothills, he'd said, they'd be relying on their mounts to get them from tower to tower under cover of darkness. It was the only way to survive the Waste.
This is a terrible idea, she thought, not for the first time. But the rumination was pointless. Iggy and Syntal wouldn't be dissuaded—and truth be, none of the rest of them had a choice. They couldn't stay in Ordlan Green without Iggy, which meant they had to go where he went. Once they were past Kesselholm, once they were back to the windward side of the Scar, it might be possible to leave Syn and Iggy to their own devices—maybe to visit Keswick, like Helix and Seth had mentioned. But for now, they were stuck together.
"Are you well?" Helix whispered from the back. Syntal winced in response. "Is the pain coming back?"
"It never went away," Syn said. "Just down enough to walk." She sighed. "I'm all right. I just wish I―" The words broke off in a startled scream as the girl fell.
"Syn!"
"Agh! Ow, sehk!"
"Are you all right?"
Lyseira came to a precarious halt—one foot braced against a rock, the other wedged into the V of a tree branch jutting from a log. "Syn?" she called.
"Syn!" Iggy echoed from the front. "Are you—sehk!" In the gloom ahead, she heard the rustle of loose scree. One of their horses pitched forward, screaming, and crashed into a second. Both animals went down, tumbling out of the torchlight and into the black.
"Chuckler!" Iggy shouted.
"Agh!" Syntal moaned, then hissed. "I think it's broken. Don't—no, I think it's broken."
"Chuckler!" Iggy shouted again. He, too, was caught in a perilously balanced pose—but he reversed his way out of it as quickly as he could without falling. "I'm coming!"
"I'll get Syn," Lyseira called, and started trying to do the same. These hills will be the death of us. She picked her way back to Syntal, who had managed to wedge her leg between two boulders.
"I'll lift one," Angbar was saying.
"No!" Syntal winced. "No. The other one might fall."
"I'll hold it," Seth said. "We can't just yank you out of there; you might lose your leg."
Pallid and clammy, Syntal nodded. Seth braced his shoulder against the smaller rock.
"Ready?" Angbar asked. When Seth nodded, he chanted. The larger boulder lifted off the ground, hovering. Helix darted in and grabbed Syntal's left arm as Lyseira took her right. They pulled her loose. Angbar resettled the boulder where it had begun.
As she'd suspected, Syntal's leg was broken. Lyseira prayed to make it whole.
"Maybe you should hover, Syn," Angbar suggested. "We can just pull you along, like I did in Tal'aden."
She scowled.
They started forward again, more carefully this time, until they caught up with Iggy—kneeling next to the still body of a horse.
"Oh, no," Helix breathed.
"Chuckler's all right," Iggy said. "Just a broken leg—I already mended it. But . . ."
He didn't have to finish. In the glow of her clericlight, Lyseira saw the awkward twist to the animal's neck; the blood on the rocks and the glare of bare bone in her skull.
; "Sehk," Helix said. "I'm sorry."
"Me too." Iggy closed the animal's eyes. "I'm sorry, girl." He got back to his feet and collected the other two horses. "Are you well?" he asked Syn, who nodded. "Then come on. Carefully, now."
The night dragged past. The moon crept to the horizon. They managed the rest of the hillside without injury, but as the ground finally began to level, the crest of the hills behind them started to lighten.
"Sehk," Iggy spat. It had taken them all night to get through the hills.
"How far to the tower, you think?" Lyseira asked him.
"I don't know. A few hours maybe, on horseback, but with only two horses . . ." He cursed again.
"Back into the hills?" Seth said. "Look for shelter?"
Iggy scanned the hills they'd just spent the night picking their way through, and shook his head. "There's no shelter there. We go on."
"Under the sun?" Angbar pressed. "But you said―"
"I know what I said." He uncorked the water skin he'd filled in Ordlan Green. "Just a sip. It's strong. One sip should see each of us through a full day."
"A full night, you mean," Seth said. "Right? They weren't expecting us to travel under the sun."
Iggy's temples pulsed. "Just drink." He took a sip and handed the skin to Lyseira. She'd gone through most of her own water in the hills; even in the cold of the desert night, she'd worked up a sweat. One sip, she thought ruefully.
But one sip was all she needed. It wasn't water that hit her tongue—it was a week of rest, a frolic in the cleanest, coldest spring followed by a hot bath. The aches in her muscles, built up over weeks of hard travel and a grueling night in the foothills, dissolved. The tension in her neck bled away. "Wow," she breathed, at a loss for any other words. Rejuvenated didn't begin to describe how she felt.
They all took a sip, then Iggy poured a bit into his hands and let the horses lap it up. The water was strong enough even to halt Seth's accusations.
He and Ignatius walked; the others rode the two horses. As they left the hills behind, the last vestiges of life and rot fell away, leaving only arid, hard-packed earth. Compared to the treacherous hike they'd just made through the hills, Lyseira thought, it actually wasn't that bad. At least it was flat.
Once the sun fully cleared the mountains, she realized her folly.
There was no transition. One instant, the air was still cool with the memory of evening. The next, it was a baking oven.
The sun beat at them as they walked. She should have been drenched in sweat, struggling for each step, but Ordlan's water kept her cool, as if she hoarded a secret whisper of night air in her blood. She could tell the heat was there, but it stayed at arm's length, snapping at her like a leashed dog.
The tower grew larger as the sun rose, and her first impression proved correct. It was a simple structure: two towering oblong blocks, supporting a third, slightly shorter block. This capstone lay sideways across the first two, extending slightly beyond their edges. It had no entryways or visible windows, nothing that would seem to warrant the title of tower in her mind, but the enormity of the structure came into fast focus. When they'd first set out, she'd expected they would take shelter between the two legs of the tower, and the capstone would shield them from the sun. As they drew closer, though, it became clear that either leg, alone, was high enough and broad enough to shelter them all from the sun.
They reached the first tower just after highsun, collapsing into its shade in relief.
"Manna," Seth said, "and then press on?"
"No." Exhaustion weighed Lyseira down; her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. "We didn't sleep last night, Seth."
"We should avoid traveling under the sun whenever possible," Iggy said, agreeing with her. "We walked today because we had to, but it will wear out the water faster. From now on, we walk at night."
Seth didn't argue. They ate lunch, pitched their tents, and slept. For once, her sheer exhaustion overwhelmed her mind's constant fervor, and she slept like the dead. Seth woke them at dusk, they ate a quick supper (a quick breakfast?), and each took another sip of Ordlan's water to slake their thirst. Then they were moving again.
They took turns riding the horses, but two people always had to walk. Seth was one of the walkers more often than not, insisting he could keep pace with the animals better than anyone else, but the other walker always slowed the pace regardless.
Lyseira gave up watching for the next tower. She could barely see anything in the dark, and besides, Iggy seemed to know exactly which way to go. She fought to stay awake in the saddle, occasionally losing this battle and nodding off until she felt her balance shift, jerking awake just before she fell. One of these times, she noticed the sky lightening.
Dawn, and we're still in the open. Again.
"How much farther, Ig?" Helix asked.
"Too far." Iggy pointed, and Lyseira finally saw the next tower—identical to the first, but another fifteen miles away, at least. "But we have to make it. Can't camp here."
"Getting thirsty again." Syntal had been on horseback all night. The Fatherlord's curse still caused her too much pain for prolonged hiking.
Iggy shook his head. "We can't. Need to make it last. Angbar." He dismounted, offering his spot to his friend. "I'll walk us in. You ride." Angbar didn't argue.
Again the evening vanished as though it had fallen off a cliff, plunging all of them into the sudden, searing heat of the sun. This time, though, it didn't stay at arm's length; it tore into her. Her body melted into sweat, soaking her tunic and breeches, rubbing her raw. She tried to endure it—Only fifteen miles. Keep your eyes on the tower. You can do it.—but it hadn't been ten minutes before Syntal slumped in the saddle, nearly falling.
Iggy caught her. "No good," he said. "She needs to drink." He, too, was slick with sweat. He laid Syntal on the cracked earth and gave her a sip. She woke at once.
As they shared the skin around, Seth said, "We can't keep doing this. We'll run out of the water."
"We'll just have to make better time tomorrow," Iggy said.
With the horses rejuvenated and shielded from the sun, they pressed on and reached the shade of the Chi'ite tower in a couple of hours. This time, Lyseira took the time to scan the southwest horizon for the next one. She could just see it wavering at the edge of her vision, so distant it might have been a mirage. She looked back and saw the one they'd reached the day before, equally far behind them. Everything in between was identical: cracked, dry, and white.
This used to be part of the forest? she wondered, remembering what Iggy had told them. How could one chant do all of this?
Again, they ate and set up camp. Again, they drank their sips and set out just after dusk. And again, they were too slow. With only two horses, it just wasn't possible.
"Leave me the water tonight," Seth said as they set up camp at the next tower, a few hours after sunrise. Even with the Ordlan water's enigmatic boon, the constant sun exposure was hurting them: Seth's scalp blared with sunburn, his arms so darkened he might have been half Bahiri. "Helix and I will walk—the rest of you ride on ahead. You should make it by dawn and won't need a second drink. We'll be the only two who need to walk under the sun. It'll save us a lot of water."
Helix nodded.
"Good," Iggy said, "but let me go with you instead. If something happens, we should have a healer in each group."
"I don't like it," Lyseira said. "What if something happens to both of you?"
"Everyone dies if we run out of water," Seth said. "It's a risk we have to take."
"But if you have the water, and something happens to you, the water's gone too."
Seth considered this. "We'll have to make sure nothing happens."
"You can't guarantee that. What if there are fire trolls out here, or something worse? What if you get lost, or slip and break a leg, or―?"
"We won't get lost," Seth said.
"And that's why we keep a healer with each group," Iggy finished.
Lyseira sighed. "
Fine. But you should stay with the horses, Iggy. That only makes sense. I'll stay with Seth."
Iggy conceded the point. Seth said, "No."
"Why?"
"Too dangerous."
Lyseira scoffed. "A second ago you said it would be fine!"
Seth's jaw worked. He glowered.
"Forget it," Helix said. "Let's just stay together. Lyseira's right—if there's anything out here, we'd do best to face it together—and we just don't know."
"They told me there was nothing alive in the Waste," Iggy said.
"They also told you there's a dragon's ghost at Kesselholm," Angbar rejoined.
The silence of the Waste crowded in: no crickets, no hoofbeats, not even a breeze. When they stopped talking, the silence was absolute.
Seth may have spoken just to break it.
"Fine," he said. "Forget I said anything."
That night, despite every effort to force a faster pace, they still missed the next tower by more than ten miles. Again they all took an extra sip, reached the tower well into midmorning, and argued about how to address the problem without reaching agreement.
The night after that was the same.
Except this time, when the sun broke the horizon and Iggy reached for the water skin, it was empty.
22
i. Helix
He could see the future, and no one cared.
He'd told Iggy about it and then told everyone else when they'd returned, but after a brief interrogation, everyone had passed his visions off as a curiosity. He didn't bring them up anymore, and no one discussed them. He rarely even reflected on them himself. Why?
Because they were useless.
He couldn't dwell on a particular course of action and find out what result it would have. He'd tried during their night in Ordlan Green, even going so far as to rest a hand on one of Syntal's wardbooks while she slept and try to summon an image. Any image. He'd tried again after their horse had died, hoping to get some clue as to whether they'd be able to survive their trip into the Waste without that extra speed. But his efforts had gained him nothing.
A Season of Rendings Page 40
