Faces of Deception (22 page)

Rishi shrugged. “In my experience, the devils from beyond never die,” he said heavily, “only those who cross them.”

Atreus stared down at the avalanche run out, recalling how swiftly his utter helplessness had been transformed into unconsciousness. He faced Seema and said, “Even if Tarch survived, he hasn’t melted his way out yet There may still be time for you and Rishi to reach the other side of the valley.”

“And you?” she asked.

Atreus looked back toward the barren cliffs beneath the Sisters, then shook his head. “I’ve come too far,” he said. “if Tarch kills me, he kills me, but I’m not leaving.”

“Then I will stay, too.” Seema smiled, then added, “Do you think I am the kind of girl you can kiss and send away?”

Atreus felt the heat rise to his cheeks. He turned away before the blush could further mottle his blotchy complexion, disguising the maneuver by drawing Sune’s map from within his cloak and pretending to study features he already knew by heart According to the chart the little basin before him was a hanging meadow at the upper end of Langdarma, surrounded on three sides by the sheer cliffs of the Sisters of Serenity. In the back of the basin, almost directly beneath the peak of the middle Sister, was the ladder symbol, leading to a narrow switchback trail that was the only route into the meadow from the surrounding mountains.

As far as Atreus could see, the only semblance between the map and the area before him were the sheer cliffs and the general shape of the basin. The meadow, of course, was buried under the small glacier that spilled down the icefall, and the main valley of Langdarma was supposed to start about where the avalanche run out lay. It occurred to Atreus that perhaps Langdarma had been scoured away by glaciers hundreds of years before, but he quickly chased the thought from his mind. Surely, a goddess could not be guilty of such a terrible mistake.

Atreus pointed across the valley toward the base of the middle Sister. There, the glacier sloped up to a dark line that marked the chasm where the ice pulled away from the mountain. “That is where we need to go.”

Seema arched her delicate eyebrows. The clefting?” She snatched the map from Atreus’s hands, studied it warily, and said, “What are we to do there?”

Atreus shrugged. “I don’t know.” he said. “Look around… see what we find. None of this is what I expected.”

Atreus’s confusion seemed to relieve Seema. She returned his map, and they gathered their things and set off. Although the glacier was relatively flat across most of the basin, they had to wind their way through a labyrinth of newly opened crevasses and listing boulders, all the while watching their back trail for Tarch. The short journey seemed to take forever, and by the time they reached the head of the glacier, Atreus could no longer bear Seema’s slow, deliberate pace. He slipped past Yago and Rishi and would have taken the lead himself had Seema not increased her own pace and left him panting for breath. When they finally reached the clefting, he collapsed gasping on the steep slope, his arms draped over the brink of the chasm and his eyes staring down into its frigid depths.

He saw nothing but a rubble-choked fissure fifty feet deep, crammed with drifting snow and jagged boulders fallen from the soaring cliffs above. He continued to stare, panting for breath, trying to see paradise in the debris below. Seema sat on the brink beside him and rested her hand on his shoulder. Atreus’s heart grew as heavy as stone. The healer’s touch was the only hint of Langdarma to be found in this basin.

“I am sorry,” she said.

Atreus felt himself starting to sink into despair, but shook his head against the feeling and stood. “No,” he said, “there is no need for sorrow. This is the place. I just have to look harder.”

He removed the map from his cloak and craned his neck to look up, trying locate himself in relation to the summit of the middle Sister. It was a futile task, as it was impossible to see the top of any peak from so close to its bottom. Atreus did notice a band of dark granite that he recalled being almost directly below the pinnacle. He began to work his way along the brink of the clefting, glancing back and forth between the map and the cliff face. Seema followed along, struggling to peer over his shoulder and see what he was looking for.

Rishi and Yago clambered up the slope behind them and peered down into the clefting. The ogre grunted derisively.

“You call that beautiful? Give me a good cave any day.”

Atreus ignored him and stopped when he came to the dark granite a dozen paces later. The clefting here was narrow and drifted over, so it was impossible to tell where the glacier ended and the chasm began. Atreus put his map away, then dropped to his hands and knees and began to dig away the wind-packed snow. An exhausting half-hour later, he finally located the edge of the glacier and started to tunnel down into the clefting.

Yago kneeled beside him and began to rip jagged blocks of snow from the hole. “What’s the plan?” the ogre asked. To dig our way into Langdarma?”

“If we have to,” answered Atreus. “There’s supposed to be a trail somewhere around here. If we can find it—”

A hole suddenly opened under Yago’s hands. He bellowed and tumbled forward, flailing has arms in an effort to catch himself, but the drift collapsed beneath his weight and fell into the clefting, carrying the ogre along with it

Atreus started to plummet after his friend but was saved when Rishi caught hold of his collar. For an instant, no one reacted, stunned by the reminder of just how quickly disaster could come in the Yehimals.

An angry voice bellowed out of the clefting, “What are… you waiting for?” Yago sounded as though he were having trouble breathing. “If you think this is fun… think again!”

Atreus clawed his way back to the chasm brink and peered over the edge. Like the rest of the clefting, this part was choked with boulders, many wedged at various heights down the fissure. Twenty-five feet below, the bottom lay hidden under the heaped remnants of the collapsed snowdrift. It took a few moments to find Yago’s head protruding out of the snow in the shadow of a huge rock. The rest of the ogre remained completely buried. He was working his chin back and forth, trying to scrape himself out of the snow, but it would clearly be a long time before he could dig himself free.

“Are you hurt?” Seema called.

“Hurt? Of course not!” he said indignantly. The ogre began to chin the snow more furiously. Like most proud Shield-breaker warriors, Yago considered pain a sign of weakness. “I’m just stuck!”

“Stop whining, or we’ll leave you there!” called Atreus, relieved.

“Whining?” Yago boomed. “Who’s whining?”

“Who do you think?”

Atreus took a moment to pick a route, swung his legs over the brink of the chasm, and dropped eight feet down to the first snow-capped boulder. When his boots slipped on the landing, he simply jumped to the next one, then bounced down to a third and dropped into the soft snow a few paces from his friend’s head.

“Whining!” growled Yago. “When I get out of here, I’ll show you who’s a whiner!”

“Yeah?” Atreus lifted his foot as though to kick snow in the ogre’s face and said, “Not too bright to tell me now, is it?”

Yago’s purple eyes grew as large as saucers.

“You wouldn’t!”

“What do you think?” Atreus asked and brought his foot down, blanketing the ogre’s head with snow.

The ogre’s orange cheeks darkened to fiery crimson. “That’s a fine thing to do when you can’t even pay my wages,” he said.

Atreus laughed, then kneeled beside the ogre, began to dig, and said, “That’s what you get for scaring me half to death,”

“You think you’re scared now …” Yago warned as he tried to hold a straight face but could not keep from grinning. “When I get out of here, I’m gonna…” He began to guffaw so hard that his head rocked back and forth. “I’m gonna knock you … from one end of this gully to the other!”

“Be quiet down there!” cried Seema. “What is wrong with you? You’ll bring the whole mountain down on your heads.”

Atreus craned his neck around. Far above, he saw two little heads peering over the icy side of the chasm, with nothing above but blue sky on one side and looming granite on the other. Before he could answer, the ogre’s arm came bursting up out of the snow and caught him square in the chest, sending him tumbling head over heels down the clefting.

“By Vaprak’s ears, it’s a good day to be a Shield-breaker!” chortled Yago. He began to dig himself free. “Its a good day not to be dead!”

This drew another round of laughter from Atreus, who was so relieved to find his friend uninjured that he could barely control himself. Yago joined in the mirth, and Rishi and Seema looked to one another in puzzlement

“My goodness, the air down there must be bad,” said Rishi. They have lost their wits!”

“Is that it?” called Seema. “Are you dizzy?”

Atreus could only shake his head and hold his ribs, trying to avoid laughing too hard and starting a rock-fall. Ogre humor could not be explained, especially to someone who would certainly see nothing funny in taking advantage of a helpless friend. The mirth slowly faded as Yago dug himself out, and by the time he finished, the hysterics were completely gone.

“Atreus, I don’t see no signs of this trail of yours,” Yago said, glancing along the clefting in both directions. “Where’s it supposed to be?”

Atreus led the way across a dozen snowy boulders to the dark band in the mountain’s craggy face, then looked at his map. It was difficult to relate the symbols on the map to their location in the clefting, but the ladder did seem to lie directly under the peak, which ought to be more or less straight up the dark band above them.

“I think it starts somewhere around here,” he answered. Not bothering to show the map to the ogre, Atreus pointed down the chasm. “You look down there. I’ll go the other way.”

Leaving Rishi and Seema on the glacier to watch for Tarch, Atreus and Yago began their search. It took Atreus a full hour to scramble over the rubble to the far end of the clefting. He found nothing but more boulders and deeper snowdrifts, sometimes so powdery that he practically had to swim. In places, where the wind had bridged the abyss with wind crust, the chasm became a narrow, winding tunnel, in other places it became more of a gully than a gorge, with gently sloping sides and a bed of jumbled boulders. Atreus saw no sign of a ladder or trail, though he was acutely aware that it might lie buried under all the tons of snow and rubble under his feet

By the time Atreus turned around, the frigid air in the bottom of the shadowed chasm had chilled him to the bone. He grew more and more convinced that the ladder was not a literal one. After all, he had seen for himself that the valley on his map contained only ice and snow. On the way back, he tried to look at everything in a new light He searched for patterns in the rock that resembled the trail on his map, sang Sune’s praises and offered her prayers as he went, and once he even stopped to meditate in a rare ray of reflected sunshine.

When Atreus returned to the dark band, he was no closer to Langdarma than before. Yago was in the bottom of a deep hole, surrounded by a low wall of snow and struggling to tear a man-sized boulder out of the ice. Seema was peering down from above, watching the ogre work and looking puzzled. Atreus kneeled at the edge of the excavation, his heart pounding with the faint hope that Yago had a good reason for his work.

“What’s all this?” Atreus asked.

Instead of answering, Yago gave a hearty grunt and finally tore the boulder from its icy moorings. He took a deep breath, then turned and pushed the stone up toward his friend. Atreus leaped aside and helped the ogre roll the heavy rock safely away from the edge of the hole.

“Did you find something?” he asked.

The same as you I imagine,” panted the ogre. “Ice and rock.”

Atreus’s stomach grew hollow.

“What’s this hole for?”

“just getting a jump on things,” said Yago. “You said—”

“I know what I said! Do you think we’re going to dig the whole glacier out?” Atreus gestured at the looming wall of ice beside them and added, “In the name of beauty … I thought I knew how stupid ogres could be.”

Yago furrowed his jutting brow and turned back to his digging, this time pulling a dog-sized chunk of ice from the hole.

“Atreus, why are you yelling at your friend?” demanded Seema. “It is yourself you are angry with.”

Atreus scowled up at the healer, and the soft beauty of her eyes withered his angry rebuke.

“Yago has risked much to help you,” Seema said. “Do you not think he deserves an apology?”

So gentle and soothing was Seema’s tone that Atreus saw at once how right she was. The longer he searched for the elusive path to Langdarma, the more he feared he would not find it. Perhaps his stubborn devotion had touched a cruel corner of Sune’s heart Perhaps she had answered his constant prayers not with the gift he sought so earnestly, but by making him the butt of the most vicious joke he had yet suffered.

Atreus whirled on Yago. “I’ve had enough of this,” he said. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Glad to be rid of you!” came the reply.

Yago went back to his hole, and Atreus stormed off down the clefting. No doubt, the exchange was not the apology Seema had expected, but it was what passed for reconciliation among ogres.

This end of the chasm was much the same as the first, except that Yago had already broken trail and the going was faster than before. As Atreus moved, he tried to see his surroundings not so much in a literal sense, as an ogre might, but in the more symbolic manner Seema suggested. The journey to a distant land would be the physical expression of his desire for change, the high mountains the measure of the difficulty of the task, the snow and ice the purity of heart required to succeed. And what of his companions? Rishi could only be greed and temptation, Seema the beauty he came to pursue, Tarch—cruel and indestructible—the lurking monster that would destroy the prize to possess it, and Yago, an ogre, was his savage past, the brutish aspect of himself he had to forsake in order to win his prize.

The sun finally rose high enough to peer over the brink of the clefting, pouring its golden warmth down into the shadowed chasm. Atreus stopped, struck by the harmony of it all. Every element had its place, every part its meaning. The scheme was so neat and symmetrical that only Sune could have arranged it, or his own mind, fabricating interpretations for what were really random events.