A Sword from Red Ice

Now he wondered only one thing: Would Traggis Mole have sprung forward to stab the beast if Thomas Argola had not told him two nights earlier that Raif Twelve Kill was the Rift's only hope? Had Traggis Mole made the decision that RaiPs life was worth more than his own?

Raif glanced at the outlander. Thomas Argola had manipulated the Mole chief, just as he had manipulated Raif the night after Black Hole. What was the outlander's purpose? Did he realize his manipulations had brought death?

But Traggis Mole was dying anyway; those were words Raif needed to avoid hearing at all cost. If Thomas Argola ever said them he would kill him.

Suddenly weary, Raif said, "I leave at dawn. Tell me what you have learned about the Red Ice."

Argola had protested, asking for more time, but he of all people had to know that once you set a top spinning it was was out of your control. Raif guessed he had discovered something, for he had not forgotten Mallia's words. My brother sends a message: Come see him tonight.

In the end what Thomas Argola had been able to tell him was little. He was one of the few people in the Rift who could read and write, and had managed to collect many parchments that had been seized by Maimed Men on raids. They saw no value in them and traded them gladly, though it was known that all manuscripts containing maps were to to be surrendered to the Mole. Argola had discovered little from searching his own collection and wanted time to search the Mole's. The thought of the outlander rifling though Traggis Mole's possessions was distasteful to Raif and he hoped that Stillborn would not allow it.

"If you are determined to leave tomorrow then all I can advise is this," Argola had said at last. "It is written that the Lake of Red Ice exists at the border of four worlds and to break it you must stand in all four worlds at once."

Raif had been frustrated. The words sounded like nonsense, designed only to confuse. "You said east."

Argola's smile had been indulgent. "Yes, there is that."

Raif had turned and left him. He had not spoken any word of farewell Thomas Argola knew either less or more than he claimed, and Raif could not decide which was worse: To know more and not reveal it? Or fake what you didn't know?

Maimed Men hailed him as he returned to Stillborn's cave, and Raif had no choice but to ignore them. Acknowledge their calls of "Twelve Kill" and he risked undercutting Stillborn's position. Raif Sevrance was not yet ready to declare himself Lord of the Rift. That thankless job went to Stillborn, and Raif knew that the best way to support Stillborn was to remove himself from the Maimed Men's attention. And not run the risk of anyone naming him "Chief."

Briefly, he had looked for Mallia as he climbed to the higher ledge, but Argola's sister was nowhere to be seen.

Once he had arrived back at Stillborn's cave he'd eaten the small meal of smoked meat and panbread that had been left for him, built up the fire at the cave mouth, and then lay on Stillborn's mattress and slept. He dreamed there was a black worm living in his shoulder, gnawing its way through his flesh.

The next morning he was awakened by Stillborn in the dark hours before dawn. "Addie's waiting outside," he had said, handing him a cup of water.

It took Raif a while to understand this statement. He swallowed a mouthful of water. "No."

Stillborn was ready for this. "You tell him then. He's been camped there for the past five hours. Won't listen to a thing I say. Doubt if he'll listen to you."

The Maimed Man was a bad schemer, Raif reckoned, for all the time he was speaking, Stillborn had not once looked him in the eye. It made a refreshing change from Argola.

"It's nothing to do with me," Stillborn continued, compelled to fill the silence. "Just told him when you were leaving. Didn't put no ideas in his head."

Raif rose and went out onto the ledge. He noticed Yelma now had two iron pots for breasts.

"You cannot come with me," he had said to Addie before the cragsman had chance to speak. "You are old and you will slow me down."

Addie Gunn had been sitting on a camp chair with his back to the fire and the cave mouth, and did not bother to turn at Raif's approach. "Fancy a journey east," he said, looking straight out across the darkness of the Rift. "Got a hankering to see trees—real ones not piss-thin bushes. I imagine I'll set off soon. 'Magine when I do no one will try and stop me, it being a free world and all and a man being free to travel where he pleases."

Raif breathed softly and deeply. It occurred to him that all you had to do to know a man's resolve was look at the back of his neck. "Addie I do not know where I go. How can I allow someone to accompany me when I don't know the dangers or how long I will be gone? Traggis Mole took a fatal blow to save my life. His death weighs on me. Do not put me in a position where yours might too."