The Northern Approach (66 page)

“Do I have any choice?”

Feanne grinned toothily, shaking her head slightly. “After all you said about me when you thought I would not remember, no, no choice at all. Love me or else. I intend to hold you to the sentiments you expressed.”

Hugging her to himself, Estin tried to bite down the fear that he might never get to tell Feanne about their children. The risk that they would die the next day was very real, and he could see that fear on everyone else’s faces as they stared off into the snowstorm outside. He tried more than once to make himself tell Feanne, but each time, she stared up at him with eyes that told him that she was not wanting to introduce any new complications to their lives, at least not yet.

A long howl somewhere in the distance was soon met by several others, prompting a rare grin from Dalania. Getting up from where she sat, she shifted to curl up closer to Raeln, actually going so far as to put her head on his leg. If it bothered Raeln, he gave no indication. He continued to stare into the storm as though lost in meditation, though he did idly stroke the woman’s green-tinted hair. There was something in the behavior that made Estin think of Oria grooming her brother when they were young, rather than lovers.

A few minutes later, Yoska was the first to speak, after Estin and Feanne curled up under a blanket. As the others quieted down, Yoska lifted the flask he still held in a salute and announced to the snowstorm, “I see you again soon, my family,” and poured the contents onto the stones at his feet before throwing the flask out into the storm. Wiping at his eyes, the man went to the far end of the tent to sleep, while On’esquin watched him with a calm respect.

*

“That is where I have buried my master and friend,” announced On’esquin as they came up a snow-swept rise.

Illuminated by what little sunlight filtered through the clouds, Estin could see a single barren crack in the land that looked to him as though a giant axe had fallen, cleaving the ground asunder. It was not so different from a hundred others in the region, all of which were difficult to see until one was close to them, thanks to the blowing snow. This particular one was somewhat larger than most, but that was all that set it apart. Even knowing Turess was buried in one such ravine, Estin was willing to bet he could spend days or even weeks searching.

Turning in his saddle, Estin gazed toward the south, where a large group could be seen moving across the plains. An hour earlier, as the sun had first appeared, the snowstorm had abated enough that the Turessian forces had reappeared, much farther south than when he had seen them the night before. Yoska had estimated they had about five hours before the undead could reach them on the rough terrain, but Estin had his doubts about whether they even had that long. Three hours at the most and possibly less the way the Turessians were pushing on.

“Raeln,” On’esquin said, turning to look over at the man, who had been watching the undead approach. “Ride with me in the lead. Those undead that are pursuing us are hardly the only danger in this place. I intended it to be secure against accidental discovery, but times change all things. There could be most anything living down there now.”

Turning back around to face Estin, On’esquin added, “And if you have any skill left with magic, you will need to be ready. Dalania and Feanne’s magic will be of limited use here. Yours may be vital.”

“You’re saying there are undead in that tomb,” Estin replied, getting angry. He was tired of surprises.

“Turessians do not see undead as an inherently bad thing,” the orc reminded him. “I have grown to hate them after fighting the ones used as pawns, but when I built this tomb, I was not so enlightened. They are vigilant guardians. Be wary.”

To the women On’esquin said, “The two of you will need to stay alive. Creatures of the wilds hardly belong in this place. Dying here would trap your spirits far from the woods for eternity. Keep that in mind. No fae will come here willingly and that means you magic may expose you to greater risks.”

When Yoska gave On’esquin an annoyed glance, Raeln told him, “You will do what you always do. Protect us from ambush and kill anything that moves. I want you close to Dalania. She’s vulnerable when she cannot use her magic from afar.”

Dalania glared at Raeln angrily but sighed as Yoska bowed to her.

Before anyone could object, On’esquin rode down the hill toward the ravine, with the rest following quietly behind. No one said a word the whole way to the broken ground On’esquin had pointed out as the tomb, though they all looked back repeatedly, watching the undead gradually approach.

Far beyond the undead, Estin could see the telltale flickering of mists drifting low to the ground in the distance, slowly making their way northward, fanning out to fill much of the horizon. He had seen those mists so many times in the last few years that the horror of what they were hardly registered anymore. They would come or they would move on, regardless of whether he feared them. Clasping the coin in his pouch nervously, he forced himself to watch the path ahead.

The crossing of the plains took perhaps another hour, by which time Estin could see the undead moving steadily across the snow, though still far off. They would catch up in an hour or two. He was certain they no longer had enough time to flee. This could well be their last day, once that force caught them. Worse still, the mists had gained ground behind them, looming like a backdrop of the approaching force.

Slowing to a stop as his horse bucked and resisted getting any closer to the ravine, On’esquin hopped off and tied the beast to a stubby and broken tree. He squinted toward the undead. At length he looked around at the others, who were tying off their own horses, and said, “Assuming we can reach his remains, I will not ask anyone to stay. We will take the remains and flee, taking them beyond the reach of those who defile his name. Should they reach us before then…” On’esquin shook his head and chose not to finish the thought, instead turning toward the ravine and heading on.

Estin gave Feanne a grim look, not really wanting to risk her again after just getting her back, but he could see she was ready for this. The old determination and willingness to face death head-on had fully returned. Of anyone there she seemed the least concerned. Estin could only wish he had her confidence.

Raising a hand as subtly as he could, Estin attempted to form magic into a light source as a test of whether he was rested enough for this. The effort made him slightly dizzy, but the magic came far easier than it had prior to Feanne’s recovery. On’esquin had been right: it had been his magic keeping her alive until she found her own strength. Now his power was returning, though far too slowly to be of any appreciable use. He would need days or weeks still. Before he could dismiss the glowing ball of magic, his stomach lurched and the spell fell apart. Perhaps months.

They followed On’esquin to the edge of the ravine, and there Estin saw a thin stone outcropping had been carefully carved into the wall, creating a slope to walk down if one were cautious. Had he not been wondering how they would descend, he never would have noticed it. At a glance he had to guess On’esquin had carved it with a hammer and chisel, an effort that had to have taken months.

“Eight years it took me to build this place,” On’esquin said for anyone who might be listening, taking his time as he started down the path into the ravine. “By then Dorralt had gone into hiding and the council had taken Turess’s place as the leaders of our people. I had never had my name cleared, so returning to Turessi with his remains was impossible. This was the only tribute I could give him. Time was no longer a concern for either of us.”

On’esquin led the way down the slope, with Feanne following and Estin behind her. Yoska walked behind Estin with a calm impatience that made Estin wonder if he truly understood how deep that ravine was. Behind Yoska, Dalania picked her way down with one hand held back on Raeln’s outstretched hand, allowing her to keep her balance a little better than she might have otherwise. At the rear Raeln spent nearly as much time watching for the undead as he did watching his own footing.

Looking down as they reached the first curve in the path, Estin saw the bottom of the ravine was covered with a thin layer of snow and appeared empty, aside from a few fallen stones. As they continued, he began to wonder if it was truly the right place. That thought was pushed aside as he realized they had nearly a fifty-foot drop, should any of them slip. He was perfectly comfortable with heights, but the faces of the others told him they had doubts about continuing. In a pinch he could scale the wall, but he doubted anyone else could manage.

“He wanted to be remembered as a wise man, not a conqueror,” On’esquin went on, leaning against the wall of the ravine to steady himself as his feet slipped on the wet stone. From what Estin could tell, he was actually talking to calm himself. Idly, he wondered why a man who could not die feared falling. “When he died without an heir, and his wife went missing when she had been named heir, they cursed his name. Had I returned his remains to our people, I doubt he would have been laid to rest in any reasonable manner. This was for the best. Only he and I knew the truth of what he tried to do to save us all.”

They slowly approached the halfway mark on the tiny ledge, and Estin could feel the tension in the people around him. Gently, he took Feanne’s hand, giving her a bit more confidence on the difficult slope. She did not look back at him, but she squeezed his hand tightly in thanks. Some things never changed and her fear of heights was clearly one. More than once she had reminded him that foxes were not meant to climb.

Behind him, Dalania and Raeln had fallen behind, both so terrified of the drop-off that they were barely able to move. The two scooted along the wall a few inches at a time, but Estin could see they might not even be down by the time the undead arrived at their current rate.

“Can you make it down on your own?” Estin asked Feanne.

Feanne nodded, though her eyes were unblinking as she slid her paws along the slope wide enough that she could have gone doing facing forward—as Estin was. She took her hand away from Estin and put it on the wall, trying to keep herself steady as she continued on.

Turning in place, Estin hurried back up the slope until he reached Dalania, who was nearly frozen with fear. She had flattened against the wall of the ravine and could not take her eyes off the ground, far below.

“Dalania,” Estin said, but she did not look up. “Dalania!”

Twitching as she snapped out of her fear for a moment, she looked toward Estin briefly before returning her attention to the ground.

“I’m going to take your hand,” he told her, slowly bringing his hand up close to hers. He knew she hated anyone touching her and did not want to scare her. Having her fall to her death when he was trying to save her would be about right for his luck. “I’ll come right back for Raeln.”

Dalania nodded and clamped her eyes shut as Estin’s hand closed over hers. She winced at the contact but did not argue as he pried her hand off the wall. Gently, he eased her toward himself as he backed down the slope.

“Look at me,” Estin insisted, having to repeat himself several times before she opened her eyes. “Right here, Dalania. Don’t look at anything but me.”

The fae-kin stumbled forward, struggling to keep her eyes on his, while her instincts seemed to be trying to make her look down. Once she was paying more attention to him than the ground, Estin was able to gradually increase his pace. Soon, using his tail to feel the path behind him as he moved, he could hear Feanne only a few steps ahead. Glancing down, he found that they were nearing the ground.

“Another minute or two,” he told Dalania, smiling. She tried to smile back, but the fear made it difficult for her to pay any real attention to anything but walking.

Estin continued walking backward with the help of his tail and soon he heard On’esquin let out a sigh of relief. Glancing back, he saw the orc was off the sloping ledge and Feanne was just hopping off. He had only another few feet to go.

“Down you go,” Estin told Dalania, grabbing her waist and pulling her off the ledge. He ignored her squeak of terror in the second before she realized he could put her directly onto the ground. “Be right back with Raeln.”

Running back up the path, Estin found Raeln had barely moved from where Estin had left him. He slowed as he neared Raeln, coming up alongside him, while Raeln continued to pant and stare at the sheer walls of the ravine. “Can you walk?” asked Estin, trying to repeat what he had done for Dalania by putting his hand on Raeln’s, but the man shook his head and seemed unable to pull his hand away from the wall.