The Blasted Lands (25 page)

For a moment he considered his hands and then thought how odd a man would surely look with an iron ear. “They can replace ears?”

Delil laughed. “I suppose they could though I have never seen a metal ear on the side of a head. Mostly if a replacement is made it is for a hand or a leg. On a few occasions I have heard of faces being replaced.”

“Faces?” He looked at her and his vision swam for a moment. He would not have any more wine. He had learned a long time ago that too much would leave him hating his existence the next morning. There was also the chance that he would say something foolish and get himself killed, so best to stop before his tongue talked without his consent.

“One of the Kings in Lead once had most of her face destroyed in a battle. She won the fight but it cost her dearly. Wheklam granted her a new face. She was fearsome in combat.”

“No doubt.” He nodded his head and then closed his eyes for a moment. The world finally stopped wobbling. “I’m to meet a god tomorrow, Delil.” His voice was tiny when he spoke.

“That is why you should be celebrating, Andover Lashk. It is a great honor to meet one of the Daxar Taalor.”

“What does one say to a god? How does one behave?”

“You answer the questions of the god. You behave with respect.” She paused a moment. “Treat the gods as you would treat your parents. With respect and the knowledge that they can punish you and there is nothing you can do to stop that punishment.”

“So it’s all right that I’m scared?”

Her laugh came again and she nodded. He watched the way her hair curled and bounced along with her nodding face. “It is probably best to be scared. But I would also try not to let it show too much.”

“All I know is that I’m supposed to climb up there,” he waved in the direction of the top of the mountain, which seemed roughly half the distance to the Great Star from where they were. “And then I am supposed to present myself to Durhallem and offer my thanks.”

She nodded. “Every person you see here has done the same. All but the children. They have not yet earned the right to see the faces of the gods.”

“Have I earned the right?” He wasn't sure and that was a large portion of his doubt.

“No. And yes.” She shrugged. “You have not done all that most have to do to be presented to the gods. But you are also not from here and born of the Sa’ba Taalor. You are an exception that is made by the gods for the reasons they deem necessary. If you were not worthy, you would not be given the chance.”

“What did you do to earn the right?”

Delil rolled her head to the side and considered him for a moment. Her eyes looked at his cane and then at his body, her thumb continued to massage the palm of his hand. “I have lived and learned as the Daxar Taalor have asked, Andover. They told me to learn their ways and I did.”

“What happens to those who fail, Delil?”

“Are you afraid of failing, Andover?” She did not answer his question. He only realized that much later. As with the lessons she had taught him, when she defended against his mad swings with his hammer or with his fists, she managed to evade and avoid rather than risk being hit.

“I am very afraid, yes.”

She moved and a moment later Delil was on top of him, her weight settled in his lap, here eyes looking into his, her hands holding both of his, fingers intertwined and palms pressed together.

Her lips pressed to his ear, the thin fabric of the veil tickling as she spoke softly. “So I will give you other things to think about for this night.” He had no doubt at all what she was speaking of. He had never been with a woman, had never so much as kissed a girl, though he had often dreamed of the notion.

Somehow they rose from the ground. Somehow they found a private area, in the shadows, away from the celebrating crowds.

After that there was pleasure and a little pain. There were awkward gropings and eventually there were matched motions and the most amazing, wondrous heat to counter the night’s chill.

He did not think of Tega. He thought only of the woman he was with as his lips and fingers traced the scars on her flesh. He studied her as much as she would allow, knowing he could have spent an eternity learning the secrets of her form.

Andover was glad he had only had three cups of wine. More and he would not have remembered as much he did of the night and he never wanted to forget a moment of it as long as he lived.

***

Tega stood in the relative calm and looked at the area around them with a resigned sense of wonder.

They’d made the Mounds with almost no additional troubles, but had decided to wait until after the latest storm before trying to find access to the frozen towers. It was a wise choice as just after the sun set and brought an even greater darkness, the weather soured and grew violent again.

The ground was locked under a sheath of ice. Opening the doors of the wagon had been a challenge and had involved the men with her using a wood axe to shatter the ice layers around the entrance before she could finally be freed.

The spokes of the wagon wheels were under so much ice that there was no longer any space between them. The entire wheel was coated in ice an inch think.

Only a few feet away the tent that the men had slept in was surrounded by a much thinner crust of frozen precipitation, but long sheets and shattered trails of the stuff lay all around it, signs that they’d been busy clearing he ice through the night.

For the moment the storms were done, but they lost time getting freed from the worst remains of their last encounter.

All of which paled when she considered the structures before them.

The Mounds.

They were not mountains, to be sure, but the spires and odd growths that thrust from the ground were monstrous in scale and even hidden away they were unsettling.

They were layered under ice as well, but the thickness was far more than an inch. The Mounds were buried within ice and dirt and ash that had accumulated to a thickness Tega doubted could be cleared by a single ax. More likely the blade would break before frozen caul yielded.

Darus Leeds looked at her and kicked at the ice. “How are we supposed to get past this?”

Tega looked back and him and shook her head. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“What you can do?” He was frowning as he said it.

“I’m the apprentice to Desh Krohan. I have been taught a few things.”

The man’s eyes grew wide as she spoke. He’d forgotten why she was there, apparently.

Tega climbed back into her trailer with a sigh and closed the door. Beyond it, she heard Darus talking to the other men. “Where is she going? We have to figure this out.”

One of them responded, “She has her ways. We have ours. Grab your axes or a pick if you brought one. Does that sound right to you, Vonders?”

Vonders replied, “The gods of fortune are with you, my fellows. I happen to have several fine tools for just such purposes.”

His words were met with grumbles. Tega allowed herself a smile and went into her supplies.

She could not leave. That would be foolish this far into the search, but she could consult with Desh or one of the Sisters if things went well. She sorted through her supplies for the right ingredients and then set about making her preparations.

Ten minutes later Tega fell back on her cot and closed her eyes. Moments after that, she was where she needed to be.

***

Desh!

The man looked at her and smiled, held out an arm for her to land on his wrist. He was not in the castle, but riding slowly along a well paved road, Brolley Krous next to him. Brolley seemed rather surprised to see her. He should have been. Not every day that a storm crow settled on the wrist of a wizard.

“What are you doing here?” Desh’s voice was warm and he had a smile on his face.

She told him quickly of the Mounds, her eye locked on his to let him understand her words. She could not speak, of course, as she was not truly there. She was back in the camp and resting on her cot.

“Well, I certainly can’t come to you right now, Tega. I’m afraid it’ll have to be you. But if you think you’re up to the task I have little doubt you can manage it. Just be careful. And prepare yourself. You’ll be very tired when it’s done.”

She bobbed her head up and down a few times. The feeling was perfectly natural as natural as the feathers on her wings and the claws at the ends of her talons.

I’ll do my best, Desh.

“Do better than that. You have the knowledge and the skills. You just have to be patient. Don’t rush.” He paused a moment and then, “Have they been behaving themselves?”

Perfect gentlemen the lot of them.

“You are a bad liar. If they misbehave too much, call on me and I will resolve the matter.”

She bobbed her head one more time and then launched herself into the air, her wings flapping madly to get the altitude she needed.

The bird went left, her mind went right. A few moments later she was opening her eyes and back in the cot, the cold air seeping through her bones.

She climbed from the wagon and looked to where the men had been hacking at the ice. They had managed a surprising amount of clearing, but the ice was nearly as hard as steel by the way they were attacking it.

Tega took a few deep breaths. “You should rest yourselves for a few minutes.”

Nolan March looked at her for a moment, his dark eyes regarding her. He was a fine looking man, but the way he looked at her was not what she expected. Most men tended to examine her physique and went out of their way to smile for her. He did not seem to care.

Finally he nodded and stepped back, gesturing for the others to do the same. They did not take much convincing.

Tega walked over to the spot where they had been digging. The ground here was not jagged and rough but unsettlingly smooth. The ice layer had been hacked and brutalized and shattered by their work, but the surface below that murky layer of frozen precipitation had a look that was both organic and almost deliberate. Once, long and ago, the ground here had been boiling with heat and the spot where they chose to dig looked as if it might have hidden depths. She could see a darkness that ran low and deep into the earth there.

A tunnel, perhaps, or merely a pocket where air escaped as the ground here re-solidified millennia ago. Whatever the case it seemed a good spot to try digging. If it was an entrance into the area forbidden by the Daxar Taalor all the better, but at the very least it might be a shelter for them should another storm come.

“You chose an excellent spot.”

Vonders Orly nodded his thanks. “The only spot that looked like a possibility. Most of the other areas are too… jagged.”

She nodded. There was little doubt in her mind that the man had looked around. His eyes were constantly scanning the ground and seeking, always seeking. His family was familiar with the Blasted Lands, had scavenged there before. She had already seen him seeking whatever might be close to the surface for him to claim, though so far with no appreciable luck.

“I would ask you to all stand back I’m going to try to clear a bit of this away.”

No one hesitated to listen.

Tega eyed the area carefully and assessed the weakest spots and the areas most likely to collapse. Not the earth itself, hopefully, but the ice that surrounded the different structures. None of them were clear enough to make out. They were shadows within the ice, but they were ponderous shadows, and even looking closely offered little but hints and vague possibilities. The ice was the issue in any event. Ice as thick as what she was dealing with might not respond to her attempts or it might fall away in fragments large enough to break bones it fell in the wrong area.

In the distance the horses let out several noises and Tega hesitated as the men looked first the tent where the animals were sheltered and then toward each other.

Maun spoke to the others in his soft voice and Nolan, Darus and Tolpen went to examine the situation. A moment later Tolpen called out and the rest ran to join them.

Tega let her curiosity win over the moment and turned toward the sounds of the horses and the men alike. There was another noise, but not one that she immediately recognized.

It was inevitable that their luck such as it had been could not hold. They had managed a great distance without any encounters with the denizens of the Blasted Lands but now she could see the Pra-Moresh as it came closer and the horses were not at all pleased with the creature’s approach. It was only one, but it came in a stampeding rage, and even as she watched, one paw on the creature swept in a hard arc and tore away half a mare’s ribcage. The animal shrieked as it died and the Pra-Moresh greedily tore at into the flesh, unconcerned about whatever or who might approach.

The other horses reared and bucked and pulled at their restraints. Three of the leads holding them to the wagon’s side snapped and the horses bolted, sliding on the ice falling over themselves and the land in an effort to escape the beast.

Tolpen Hart cursed and ran for the tent, ignoring the animals as they escaped. Darus and Nolan tried to recapture the animals, knowing that without them they might well be doomed in the wilds.

By the time the two of them had reached the wagon, the rest of the horses had broken free and the Pra-Moresh was looking up from its feast, blood painting the heavy muzzle a startling shade of red against the grey and black fur.

It screamed and laughed and whined as it looked toward them and reared up on its hind legs. By the gods, it was a massive thing, easily twice the height of a man.

Tolpen came from the tent with his bow at the ready and an arrow drawn back. He took careful aim and fired and the missile skidded across the monster’s face, not even breaking the hide.

But it got the beast’s attention and it looked toward the archer and roared. Tolpen was a hunter. He knew how to handle his weapon and he took the time to draw another arrow and aim as the beast charged. Nolan managed to get out of the way even as he pulled his axe. Darus was not as fast and was slapped aside as easily as a leaf. Even from her distance she could see the poor man bouncing across the ground and hear his grunts of pain.