Of Truth and Beasts

Chane waited for Ore-Locks to argue—and then he would handle the dwarf. But Ore-Locks only began descending the hill with a similar expression of defeat. His obsessive goal was to find the seatt, and they were making no progress here.

Shade gazed up at Chane in what appeared to be surprise, and then she trotted beside him back toward the wagon—as if rewarding him for this victory. Indeed, he felt as if he had just won an important battle. Wynn’s chances inside the range were almost nonexistent. In less than a moon, he might yet coerce her into giving up entirely.

The chances of this were certainly better now than they had been three moments ago. 

Wynn drove the wagon down the pass for three more days before they completed traveling through the foothills and reached the base of the mountains. Her heart was heavy, and all along the way she’d never stopped looking for hints or clues to the elusive entrance Ore-Locks had placed in her mind.

If only it existed. If only she could find it.

Tonight, Shade lay beside her on the bench, and Chane and Ore-Locks sat in the back on opposite sides of the wagon bed, both looking forward. The base of the range’s first ridge loomed above them. In the night, Wynn could not see all the way to their tops, but Chane pointed ahead.

“The end of the pass,” he said. “We may have to leave the wagon behind.”

Wynn squinted, but he could see so much better in the dark than she could, at least from a distance. She’d known this moment was coming. They couldn’t take a wagon into the range, and, eventually, they might even have to abandon the horses. She knew firsthand the dangers of bringing horses onto narrow cliffs.

“Pull up over there,” Chane said, now pointing off to the left.

She sighed and pulled the wagon over. Chane jumped down to unharness the mare and the gelding. They would serve as packhorses now. Both were calm and gentle, and she hated the thought of eventually leaving them in the wilderness. She’d face that task when it arrived, as she had faced so many unpleasant tasks to get this far.

While Chane worked on the harness, Wynn climbed in the back with Shade to take down their makeshift tents, folding the canvas up with their blankets. If she packed things properly, the horses could still carry all the supplies that remained.

“Wynn ... ?” Ore-Locks called from somewhere.

She could not see him.

“Wynn, come up!”

He rarely used her name, and she’d never heard him sound quite so agitated—or perhaps animated. Looking around, she spotted him to her right, partway up the base of the mountain.

“What is he doing?” Chane asked.

Shade rumbled softly.

Wynn jumped from the wagon’s back and scrambled upward after Ore-Locks. Chane rasped something after her, but she couldn’t make it out. She was too busy climbing as quickly as possible, sending small stones downward with her feet. Shade dashed up after her, and then she heard Chane cursing, as he only had the horses partway unharnessed and couldn’t leave them in a tangled state.

“What?” she panted upon reaching Ore-Locks. “What is it?”

“Look,” he said.

Pulling a cold lamp crystal from her pocket, she rubbed it and held it out. The light illuminated fragments of what appeared to be cut stone lying against the slope.

Wynn’s heart began pounding from more than exertion.

“What are you doing?” Chane asked, coming up behind them. “I had to leave both horses loose down there!”

Wynn leaned slightly forward holding out the crystal. “These stones aren’t natural.”

“There,” Ore-Locks said, moving up and to the left. “More of them.”

Shade rumbled again, and Chane now appeared more unsettled than angry. Ore-Locks climbed further with surprising speed.

“And here,” he said, pointing.

Wynn hurried after him, spotting more fragments of cut stone along the way. Soon the fragments became slightly larger, and then ...

She glanced back and saw the pattern. It might never have been noticed if she hadn’t first spotted them one by one along the way. There were two lines of those barely noticeable stones with open ground in between, as if ...

“A path,” she whispered, willing herself not to hope too much. “Are we walking an ancient path?”

Ore-Locks didn’t answer. By the crystal’s light, his eyes were wide and intense as he scanned the slope. He went onward and upward, and Wynn hurried after, barely aware that Chane and Shade came behind.

“I left the horses loose,” Chane repeated.

“Then go down and tie them up,” she said without looking back.

She didn’t hear him turn back as she kept climbing after Ore-Locks.

The path began to curve and snake. Occasionally Wynn lost sight of any stones with telltale signs that they weren’t natural. Ore-Locks would wave her and the others to a stop and begin clambering over the slope, searching. Again and again, he finally straightened up and waved Wynn onward. Soon they were passing through wind-bent trees, jagged outcrops, and rougher terrain. Pauses became longer, but Ore-Locks always continued.

“How far will we climb?” Chane asked.