Above the Snowline (54 page)
‘Did you kill Raven?’ she asked quietly.
‘Leave Carnich, go far up-slope, to the plateau. You said you always wanted to see Scree pueblo, didn’t you? Now’s your chance. Hunt on the plateau, beyond Klannich, beyond the head of the glacier. You must never return.’
She said nothing and I waited too. Then we both began at once: ‘Did—?’
‘Why don’t—?’
We stopped. ‘Go on,’ I said.
‘Why don’t you come with me?’ She looked directly at me. ‘Run with me, Jant. Or I’ll come to the Castle. I’ll marry you. Yes!’
‘Please tell me, I have to know. Did you lead me into the forest so I wouldn’t stop you setting fire to the keep? Or was it because you loved me and didn’t want me to burn?’
She paused. ‘I do want to marry you. I’ll be your hunting partner for ever.’
My spirits fell. I felt loose with disappointment. Was she just mouthing these words? She had turned me down once and now she tempted me with my own proposal. But I was wiser now: I knew her better. With calm self-control I said, ‘No, Dellin.’ And my heart grew so heavy I felt as if I was sinking into the rock.
‘I want to hunt with you. Let’s run to Scree together.’
I heard the loneliness in her voice. She must be the last Rhydanne left in Carniss. I still wanted her so desperately I ached, but I knew she would hurt me again, some time in the future. She would follow her instinct and consider rules as nothing. She would cause me pain for the rest of eternity. I knew that, now. I couldn’t bind myself to her.
‘No, Dellin,’ I said. ‘It’s too late. There’ll be other hunters at the pueblo. Join them in the new grounds.’
Her eyes glistened with tears. She turned her head away and composed herself. When she looked at me again her lips and eyes had assumed the hard expression of a woman baulked in her intentions but who will no longer plead. She rose swiftly, spear in hand, and slipped into the cave.
I breathed the cool air and regarded the shadows of the clouds chasing over the glacier. Dellin reappeared, wearing her rucksack and with ash on her boots from smothering the hearth. She held her spear over her shoulder and looked out at the incredible vista. Then, without saying a word, she turned to the cliff.
She stepped up onto a ledge, as if calling a path into existence by her footsteps. She ran up, along a straight stretch, and then zigzagged higher on the ledges. Now she was lost to sight behind massive columns of rock, now she emerged between them. I strained to watch her, because I knew I’d never see her again, for the rest of my life and hers. The cage door is open and her path diverges from mine. In a hundred years’ time I will look back on this. In a thousand years’ time I will remember her, wonder what happened to her, and try to imagine how she met her end.
The cliff ledge debouched onto a scree chute. Dellin climbed the large boulders at its edge, up into a hanging valley filled with snow. She was a tiny figure crossing the white patch, leaving an infinitesimal trail of prints. Sometimes she merged with the great wall of rock, sometimes I could just distinguish her. She reached the head of the valley and passed through a notch in the skyline, onto the top of the cliff and was gone.
I turned away, back to the keep. Back towards Awia.
Thank you to Garrett Coakley, web designer extraordinaire, for
www.stephswainston.co.uk
www.stephswainston.co.uk
Love and thanks as always to Brian.
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