Castle, Page 3

  They left the Ruin Ship after a stay of a full five sleeps, the same way they had entered, stumbling along blindfolded, guided by Arla. This time, at least, they were much better equipped. The Shield Maidens had been generous in providing new furs, climbing teeth, ropes of braided Selski hide, and other things they considered essential to climb the ruined road to the Mountain of Light.

  Tal had used part of the time in the ship to study Longface's map. He had come to the conclusion that the bone had not actually been carved with a sharp tool, but cut by Sunstone light. That meant the Chosen who had done it had been extremely skilled, and that he still had his Sunstone when he had staggered down to the Ruin Ship. But not his Spiritshadow.

  The tablet gave no clue to its maker's mystery. There was writing on it, in addition to regular marks that were obviously a map. But all the writing said was:

  Half road down pyramid Imrir fallen 100 stretch entry heatway tunnel Underfolk 7.

  Tal had puzzled over this for some time, but all he could guess was that it meant there was an entrance to the heating system of the Castle which he knew went through the mountain, right down into the deep earth.

  Underfolk was almost certainly a reference to the lowest of the Underfolk levels, which Tal supposed was where the heatway tunnel came out. Presumably the entrance outside would be about halfway up the mountain, near a fallen pyramid.

  Tal had a dim recollection that Imrir had been the Emperor long ago. The current Empress didn't have a name - Tal had never wondered about that before. Of course, she had been the Empress for much longer than most, fending off old age with her mastery of Sunstone magic. Maybe Emperors' or Empresses' names were only known after they died.

  All thoughts of the Empress were gone by the time the blindfold came off. Arla left them, without a word. Tal watched with relief as she silently slid away. He felt like a caveroach about to be stepped on when Arla was around. Milla, of course, had a completely different reaction. Arla was everything Milla wanted to be twenty circlings from now.

  Tal stood alone with Milla and the freezing wind. Far below, they could see the luminous outline of the Ruin Ship.

  Both of them had moth-lanterns, but the dull green light only showed snow and patches of bare rock. If there was a road even a ruined one Tal couldn't see it.

  "Come on," ordered Milla. She shouldered her pack and headed off. Tal fumbled on his own pack, groaning at the sudden weight. It was full of sleeping furs and climbing gear and food and what felt like at least his own weight in other things the Icecarls considered essential. Tal would have rather had a Sunstone, so he could properly warm himself. Even with inner and outer coats of thick fur, a Cloth-lined bone face mask, and a short, hooded cape lined with the soft tails of something he couldn't pronounce, Tal was still cold.

  Though he couldn't see a road through the amber lenses of his mask, he followed obediently. Either Milla could see something, or Arla had told her a secret sign to look for.

  It was hard going, but not too hard. At times they had to clamber over great blocks of ice that had slid down from higher up, but it was clear they were on a path made by humans.

  Once again, Tal regretted the absence of a Sunstone. He wanted to light up the whole mountainside, to see the sheer cliffs stretching up and up, and admire the way the rock had been carved away in precise lines to create the road, switchbacking its way up what would otherwise be impassable terrain.

  But all he could see now was the occasional evidence of construction, particularly when there was a well-preserved stretch of road and mountainside forming a perfect right angle.

  At other times, he had no idea how Milla found the road again after it had fallen away.

  He asked her.

  "The road smells of ghalt, the melting stone," Milla said. As usual, her voice bore a reluctance to talk to Tal, tempered with a desire to show off how superior Icecarls were. She bent down, swept away a light layer of snow and, with effort, pulled out a piece of black rock that shone in the moth-light.

  "There are hot pools of ghalt in the far southern mountains," she said, holding the piece under Tal's nose. "When it is hot it pours like water and smells very sour. Even very old, cold ghalt smells. I do not know how the ancients brought it here for the road."

  Tal raised his mask to sniff at it, but he couldn't smell anything. His face just got cold.

  As the hours of walking wore on, Tal was no longer interested in how Milla found the road. He was just glad that she did. He was also hoping that she would stop soon so he could rest. She had to be tired, too, he reasoned, since she was still recovering from her wound. But she showed no signs of weariness.

  When she did stop, it wasn't for a rest. She suddenly backed up, almost hitting Tal. While he gawped at her, she threw her arm around him and wrestled him into the nearest snowdrift, piled up against the mountainside.

  As they plunged into the snow, Tal felt a great rush of air go past. He caught a momentary glimpse of enormous translucent eyes, each as large as his own head, followed by spread wings of great size.

  "What was that?"

  Milla clapped her hand over his mouth, her fur glove almost smothering Tal. He started to struggle, then stopped as she held a knife against his throat and ordered him in a whisper, "Stay still!"

  They lay together in the snow, not moving. Finally, they heard a terrible screech some distance off, and Milla relaxed. The knife vanished from her hand, and she let Tal sit up.

  "Perawl," she said. "They can't see you if you stay completely still. They're a bit deaf, as well."

  "What was the… the noise?" asked Tal. The unseen hunters in the air made this place even worse than being on the Ice. At least with the Selski you could hear them coming, and you could see a Merwin's luminous horn.

  Milla didn't answer, so Tal repeated the question.

  "It could be any one of a number of things," replied Milla evasively. "The Perawl's meal, I suppose."

  "So the great Milla doesn't know everything," remarked Tal. Milla ignored him, her attention still focused downhill.

  "Perhaps… perhaps it was the other way around," Tal added. The screech hadn't sounded like something being caught. It had sounded triumphant. "Maybe the Perawl was something else's meal."

  They looked at each other, expressions unseen behind their face masks. But Milla started off again at a faster pace and Tal followed without complaint.

  Without his Sunstone, Tal had no idea how much later it was when they finally stopped to rest and eat. As on the Ice, the meal was Selski meat heated over a Selski oil stove.

  "We will have three watches. I will take the first and third," declared Milla when they had finished eating. "You need only stay awake for the middle watch."

  "I can stand two watches," said Tal. "Let's have four watches."

  "Do you know how to count every breath without thinking, even while asleep?" asked Milla. "Uh, no," answered Tal. "What does

  "That is how we count the passing time when there is no other means," explained Milla, as if she were speaking to a very small child. "So I will tell you when to begin and finish your watch."

  Tal couldn't argue with that. Surreptitiously, he tried to count each individual breath, but he couldn't keep track. He half suspected that Milla couldn't, either, and she was just trying to be superior again.

  It was a cold camp, and a dangerous one, with a long drop beside the road. They put their backs against the slope, and Tal silently told himself thirty times,

  I must not walk in my sleep.

  Sleep did not come easily. The wind howled down the mountain and seemed to want to pick Tal and Milla up and take them with it all the way to the Ruin Ship far below. Because they were higher up, it was even colder than on the Ice, and Tal found himself huddling closer and closer to Milla to stay warm.

  Milla seemed to take this as normal behavior, but Tal found even her fur-muffled closeness unnerving. He had never been so close to a girl before, let alone one who might kill him if he accidentall
y threw his arm around her while he was dreaming.

  That thought didn't help him sleep. Neither did the noises he heard, or thought he heard, in the night. Even when Milla was supposed to be sleeping, she sat up every now and then to listen. Sometimes Tal wondered if she ever really slept. He wouldn't have been surprised to find that if she did sleep, it was with one eye open.

  The middle watch seemed to go on and on forever. Tal decided to test if Milla was asleep. He leaned away from her, but she didn't stir. So he edged away a little more. She sank back into her furs, and Tal smiled. She really was asleep.

  He reached across to lightly tickle under her chin, where a tiny square of skin showed clear of the mask and her laced-up collar. Tal had often done this to Gref, trailing his fingernail like an insect across him to see how long it took for his brother to wake up.

  His gloved hand was just about to touch Milla's chin when her hand snaked out from under the sleeping fur, her knife held at roughly the same point under Tal's chin. For a frozen moment they faced each other, then Tal slowly withdrew his hand and Milla her knife.

  "Two hundred and seventy-five breaths," said Milla. "I will know when it is my turn."

  Tal was very wakeful for the rest of his watch, but sleep claimed him quickly when Milla took over.

  Despite this, he felt like he'd had no sleep at all when Milla shook him awake, and they started off again. This time, the climbing became harder, as more of the road had been destroyed by avalanches. In some places the mountain had simply slipped away. They had to climb up very steep slopes of ice and stone, using ropes, Wreska jawbones full of sharp teeth strapped onto the sides of their boots, and bone spikes - called pitons - hammered in with a rounded stone as big as Tal's fist.

  Milla was an experienced climber. Tal was not. Luckily he had his shadowguard to help, though he tried not to call on it too much. He didn't want Milla to think he was beholden to his shadow.

  Tal's greatest difficulty was not being able to see. When climbing, the moth-lanterns had to be strapped to their backpacks, so most of the light fell behind them rather than in front.

  It was even worse when it snowed. The first two "days" (by Milla's reckoning) stayed clear and cold. But halfway through their second sleep, the snow came down heavily, so much that they would have been buried under it if they'd been on level ground.

  The snow kept up through their third day, then just as Tal was falling asleep turned into particularly wet and unpleasant sleet that came in sudden bursts, blowing horizontally in wet sheets that soaked the travelers' outer coats in an instant. Fortunately, the inner furs stayed dry, evidence of the Icecarls' long practice of living in the wild.

  By this stage, Tal was so tired that as soon as Milla told him he could sleep, he slept, no matter what the weather was doing.

  On the fourth day, the sleet finally faltered and then stopped altogether. The wind died down, too, and the air became still. They made faster progress, and within a few hours they came to something that had to be the fallen pyramid mentioned on the bone tablet.

  They first saw it when it reflected their lights, and for a heart-stopping instant, both thought themselves face-to-face with the eyes of some huge creature. But as the reflection multiplied, it became clear that what lay ahead was not a living thing.

  Trudging wearily up the road, they saw that it was a pyramid. A pyramid of blue crystal, three times as tall as Milla. It must have slid down the mountain long ago, because it no longer stood upright. The point now angled back into the mountain, rather than up at the dark sky.

  "The entry to the heatway tunnel must be close," said Tal. "Within a hundred stretches, the tablet says."

  "Does it mention that?"

  asked Milla, raising her lantern. The green light spilled forward, and reflections from the pyramid swam back.

  Right in front of the pyramid the road simply wasn't there anymore. It had fallen away, leaving a frightening gap.

  "Oh," said Tal. "No, it doesn't."

  Cautiously, Tal and Milla crept to the edge. They could not see any bottom.

  "Can we climb up and over?" asked Tal, looking at the mountainside.

  Milla moved her lantern across, noting the loose rock and signs of recent slippage. Then she shook her head.

  "The rock face is too loose," she announced. "We will have to jump the gap."

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  "Jump?" exclaimed Tal. "Impossible. It must be ten… even twelve stretches!"

  Milla tilted her face mask back and looked at the chasm again.

  "No, we can jump it," she said. "Even you."

  "There has to be another way," Tal said desperately. He went over to the side of the road against the mountain and tested his weight against an outcropping of rock above his head.

  The rock came free, with a lot more besides, nearly braining Tal. Milla was right. It was too loose.

  Tal looked down at the gap again. It would be suicide to try to jump over it. He couldn't even see the bottom. They were almost at a turn in the road, so it would be a straight drop to the road below. That had to be at least five hundred stretches!

  He looked back. Milla was strapping the toothy jawbones they used as spikes onto her boots. She had also taken out something Tal hadn't seen before. Gloves of thin Selski hide, with long curved claws of reddish bone.

  "You will have to help me with the claw-hands," Milla said as she finished strapping on her boot-teeth. She then tried to hammer a bone piton into the road, but it wouldn't go through the sections where there was metal, and the stone crumbled everywhere else.

  Finally, Milla shrugged and put the piton back. She left her pack lying on the ground and strapped her Merwin-horn sword onto her back instead. She slipped on the clawed gloves. Tal saw that they had to be tied onto her wrists, so he helped her, patiently following her instructions on how to do the right knots.

  "Move the lanterns to the edge," said Milla. She had not put her mask back on. Tal saw her eyes move calculatingly to the far edge.

  "Shouldn't you be tied to a rope?" he asked. "I could hold it…"

  "There is nothing to secure it to," said Milla. "You would only be dragged down."

  She hesitated, then said, "If I fail, Tal, you will try to go on? You will fulfill the Quest and get a Sunstone for my clan? Then I may become a Shield Maiden, even after death."

  Tal looked at the dark gap and was tempted to say that if Milla couldn't jump it, he would have no chance. But she had used his name, and hadn't looked at him with her usual scorn. "I will try," he said, with a gulp.

  "I would not ask, normally," said Milla. "But I am still not at my full strength."

  "Great," Tal muttered under his breath. He looked at the gap again, then reached out to touch Milla's claw-hands.

  "All right, I'll jump first," he said.

  "What?" Milla was suddenly angry again. "Do you doubt my courage?"

  She took her hands away and stalked back twenty or so steps, out of the light of the lanterns.

  "I'll show you a Shield Maiden's courage!" she shouted angrily.

  "No, Milla!" shouted Tal. "Wait! I didn't mean… take your time -"

  Before he could finish, Milla came sprinting out of the darkness. She passed Tal in a blur, her arms and legs pumping. Two paces from the edge, she threw herself forward, arms outstretched.

  "Yaaaahhhhhhhh!"

  Tal rushed to the edge. There was a clatter of rocks. He couldn't see Milla on the other side. He raised one of the lanterns, a sick feeling in his stomach.

  Nothing moved in the small pool of light.

  Tal shouted, his voice echoing into the emptiness.

  No answer came, but one small movement caught Tal's eye. A clawed hand, reaching up over the lip on the far side.

  Another followed it, then Milla's head. With a choking grunt, she pulled herself up over the edge and crawled a few paces forward. Anyone normal would have collapsed gratefully then, but Milla staggered to her feet and looked back at Tal.
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br />   As their eyes met, Tal realized that now he had to jump. Without the claw-hands.

  But at least there was no wind.

  "Throw over a rope," Milla yelled. "I will secure it to the pyramid."

  Tal rummaged out a rope with relief. At least he would have a rope. If he did fall, it would only be… well, far enough to be seriously hurt instead of killed. If he was lucky.

  When he turned to throw the rope over to Milla, she was bent over, her hands on her knees, obviously in pain. As soon as he moved, she shot back upright, as if she had never felt the slightest twinge.

  Tal didn't say anything. He just threw over the coiled rope. He really didn't understand these Icecarls.

  Milla cut through the laces on her claw-hands, removed them, made a loop with the rope, and easily flipped it over the top of the pyramid. It seemed secure enough, though she inspected the edges to make sure the crystal would not cut the rope. Once the edges might have been sharp, but long exposure to wind, snow, and rain had rounded them off.

  Tal caught the end she threw back.

  "Tie a pack on," Milla instructed. "And one of the other ropes, so we can lower it down and then back up."

  Tal quickly did as he was told. Passing the second rope behind his back, he lowered the pack down till Milla's rope was taut, so she could swing it across and pull it up. They then repeated the process with Tal's pack and one of the lanterns. The other lantern had a rope tied to it, but it would be left till last, so Tal could see where to jump.

  Tal was glad that all this delayed his own crossing. He was still trying to work out another way to get across, though there didn't seem to be any alternative. Once again he walked to the edge and looked down. A momentary dizziness hit him, and he stepped back suddenly. So suddenly he almost fell.

  There had to be another way! Ignoring Milla, he backtracked down the road, holding the lantern up to look at the sheer face of the mountainside. If he could find solid rock, he could climb higher and then across, to get past the gap.