A Sword from Red Ice

The fortress was doubled-walled, and as she passed through the gate she could clearly see the dark passageway that led between the exterior wall and the jacket wall. The temperature dropped as they moved into the fort's collapsed outer ward. All ceilings and interior walls had fallen and giant heaps of debris had been claimed by ivy, burdock, moss and scrub pine. Mature cedars grew in the center of the open space. Ahead a second, smaller gate led to the inner ward, but Lan came to a halt by a waist-high section of standing wall. "We will set camp here," he said.

Ash slid from her horse. She felt as if she were standing in a crater. Sounds echoed across the hollowed-out fort. As she lifted the saddle from the gelding, Lan cleared an area of snow. He seemed distracted and did not unpack his saddlebags in his normal sequence. Nor did he set about building a fire. It was early for camp, she realized. Still an hour or so of daylight left. There was little need to rush the preparations. The stallion had found something to its liking growing on one of the stone heaps and was busy munching on yellow stalks. Once it was free of its saddle, the gelding trotted over to investigate.

"Does anyone ever come here?" Ash asked Lan, thinking of the footstep on the stair.

"No," he replied. This is Glor Yatanga. The Saturated Lands." She waited, listening to his words bounce off the walls and break up into pieces, but he said nothing more. She considered mentioning the footprint, but decided against it. A small hum of wariness was sounding in her gut.

"Come," Lan said, standing upright. "I will show you the Thirteen Wells;

She followed him through the second gate to the inner ward. The roof had caved in here hut some interior wails were still standing. Lan led her along a narrow corridor and down a short flight of stone steps,

"The fortress was built around the wells," he explained to her as they entered a dim cavernous space, lit by sky holes. "Their water has not run dry in five thousand years."

The chamber was damp and smelled of bats and their droppings. Odd pieces of glazed tile still clung to upper portions of the wall, and the sky holes were glazed with thick lenses of rock crystal. Wisps of mist rising from the wells scudded across the natural rock floor. The wells were laid out in a honeycomb pattern, with only thin strips of rock between them. Some steamed more than others, and their colors varied from milky blue and green, to rusty yellow and pink, to crystal clear sapphire and inky black.

"No two share the same temperature or taste," Lan said, pulling two horn cups from the pack around his waist. "It is custom to sample twelve of the thirteen."

He had thought ahead, she realized, for the cups were normally in one of his saddlebags. Realizing he was making an effort to be amiable, she took one of the cups from his hand. "You go first."

He crossed to one of the wells at the back of the chamber, easily balancing on the narrow stcffip gangways. "This Sull will try the water that looks the worst."

Ash laughed, surprised by his humor. Following his path along the lips of the wells, she went to join him. Crouching, Lan scooped up a cup of gray water and drank. She watched him swallow and then did the same. The water smelled of sulfur and bubbled in her mouth. It was lukewarm.

"You must choose the next one," he told her.

She picked the largest well. Steam peeled off the surface, and its water was hot and clear and salty. Lan chose one of the rust-colored wells next and Ash was impressed by its coldness. They moved between the wells in silence, crouching, sniffing, tasting. Lan kept count, and when they had sampled eleven of the thirteen wells he said, "It is custom to bathe in the twelfth well."

She looked at him carefully. His sharply angled face was still. Mist had coated his skin in a fine film.

"We have been lucky in our choices. The two wells that remain are both warm." He shrugged off his buckskin cloak. "Make a choice."

Ash followed tMmotion of his hand. One of the wells was clear and Mack and barely steamed. The other lay at the center of the honeycomb and was milky green with a circle of cloud above it. "That one, she said. "As long as it is not too hot."