[Shadowed Path 02] - Candle in the Storm (30 page)

Snoff emerged from the den’s tunnel-like entrance. He resembled his mate, except his back was striped like a
 chipmunk’s. He bore a glowing sphere that cast the rosy light of dawn. When he released it, the sphere floated up to settle near the ceiling. It made the den brighter, and Yim noticed for the first time that a huge bear slept in one corner. The animal opened its eyes, stretched, rose, and padded over to sniff Yim and Cara. Snoff growled at it in a good-natured way. The bear responded in kind, then squeezed out the entranceway.

The brighter light also allowed Yim to see her hosts better. On the previous night—if her sense of time was accurate—they seemed prominent personages, perhaps rulers among their kind. Yet as far as Yim could determine in better light, they seemed quite young.

“Yes, we die,” said Snoff, who, like his spouse, responded to unvoiced thoughts. “But we leave not our lives upon the Dark Path.”

“Do you mean memories?” asked Yim.

“What else are memories but life?” replied Snoff. “For us, death is but a rest on a long journey. Rupeenla and I are new-birthed, but we remember the world’s beginning.”

“You’ve visited the Sunless Way,” said Rupeenla. “Only humankind litters it with woe and terror. And what an evil those memories have wrought! Mother, you know of what I speak. You’ve met it. And humans call it ‘god.’ What foolery!”

“The Devourer?”

“Aptly named,” said Snoff. “For it will eat all the world, and our journey will end with forever darkness.”

“Lose your fear, husband. ‘Not yet,’ may become ‘not so.’ Mother brings hope.”

Snoff regarded Yim with eyes that seemed old, wise, and sad. “But she brings so little, dearest.”

“True. But little is better than none.”

THIRTY
-
ONE

CARA STIRRED.
“Yim,” she said in a sleepy voice, “I’ve had the strangest dreams. We …” Her eyes opened and immediately widened. They quickly went from Rupeenla, to Snoff, to her stump, and back again. “It was na a … You’re really … The lake … The wolves and bears …”

Rupeenla smiled. “All true, Dar Child. Your kin are safe. You’re safe. And we’re well pleased, for you brought Mother to us.”

Cara gazed at the stump of her right arm and gingerly felt it. “It does na hurt.”

“You may pull the webs away,” said Rupeenla.

Cara brushed the covering at the end of her arm to reveal bright pink skin. She gazed at it with amazement. “How?”

“A better question is ‘why,’” said Rupeenla, “and I’ve already answered it. You’ve earned our honor.”

“Thank you,” said Cara.

“No, Dar Child, thank you.”

Then Snoff rose and gathered things to eat from baskets about the den. The four sat on the hard-packed dirt floor and dined on flowers, honey, berries, and nuts. They washed it down with nectar from a hollowed gourd. The meal was the most satisfying that Yim had ever tasted. Everything was perfectly fresh, though some of the flowers blossomed only in early spring, while the nuts ripened in the fall. It made Yim wonder if Cara’s arm had healed over many days while she had slept for but one night. Rupeenla
 responded to that thought. “How long lasts a dream?” she asked.

After their meal, Yim and Cara left the den. They had to crawl up a slanting earthen burrow, a feat that Cara managed with only one hand. The two women emerged into a thick clump of ferns at the base of an immense spruce. From only a few paces away, the burrow was invisible. The air was warm, and everything about them seemed both ancient and new. Yim felt new herself, a naked infant emerging into the world, and felt an infant’s sense of wonder. She glanced at Cara, to see if she was experiencing the same.

Cara was gazing at an empty space before her. “Was it just last night that I had a hand there?” she asked in a mournful tone that tore at Yim’s heart. “It seems much longer than that.”

With Cara’s words, all the horror of the previous night returned to Yim. “It was my fault, Cara. I’m so sorry.”

“How was it your fault? You saved my life.”

“Because those men never would have come if not for me.”

“Perhaps that’s true. But you were supposed to come,” replied Cara. “And I’m glad you did, even though I think those men were supposed to come also. I believe that because my dreams last night were like your dreams. I saw things. True things. That was Rodric’s corpse in the tunnel. He was tricked by the Devourer’s servant, the same one who convinced the Sarf to kill you.” Cara smiled grimly. “Do na worry. That man’s powerless now. The only death he seeks is his own.”

“So you’ve had a vision?”

“Na a vision. The Old Ones showed me those things, using dreams as a kind of speech. They’re powerful, but also helpless. They know much, but na the future. That’s hidden. Even from Karm.” Cara sighed. “But they told me this: We’ll part today, for you must journey to Honus alone. I’ve
 played my role, and my clan needs me. Like the Old Ones, all I can do now is wait and hope.”

Then it seemed to Yim that Cara was a changed woman. It wasn’t merely the missing arm; she had become someone wiser, quieter, and perhaps more melancholy. Cara’s brief stay with the Old Ones had altered her, and seeing that, Yim understood why Faerie was perilous to enter.

The two women walked silently together for a long while among the giant trees. The Old Ones were nowhere to be seen, but Yim sensed their presence. It was a benign one. The ground was soft beneath her feet and a delicate breeze washed over her bare skin. It was a place of innocent pleasures. Under its influence, Cara’s mood seemed to lighten, and when a cloud of butterflies fluttered above, she gazed at them with the delight of a child. Then she spoke to Yim at last, sounding more like the exuberant and romantic Cara of old. “You 
will 
return, Yim. I know you will. And when you do, you must tell me 
everything 
. Na holding back. And na modesty either. Zounds, especially that! I will na stand for it!”

Yim grinned. “I promise. And if my child’s a girl, I’ll name her Cara.”

At sunset, Yim and Cara returned to the flat-topped stone, accompanied by a throng of Old Ones. There, the faeries gave Yim leaf-wrapped bundles of provisions that could be eaten without cooking, since they were aware that Yim had jettisoned her cooking pot and fire-making iron. Then they departed without ceremony, blending into the forest so quickly and quietly that they seemed to disappear. When the faeries were gone, Yim and Cara dressed.

“I’ll walk with you to the boat,” said Yim to Cara.

“I wish I were going with you,” said Cara. “I so wanted to see Honus’s face when he learns he’s the one.”

“Cara! That will be a private moment!”

“Oh, nay. He’ll know the moment he sets eyes on you.”

Yim felt that Cara spoke the truth, and it made the lonely journey ahead seem less daunting. When the women reached the boat, they found it draped with flowers. A garland of yellow leaves sat on a seat. Yim took Cara’s extra clothes from the pack and waded out to the boat to place them there. When she retrieved her sandals, she noted that the oars were gone. Then Cara waded to the boat, placed the garland on her head, and climbed aboard. As soon as Cara was seated, Yim pushed the boat free from the gravel. As the vessel glided into the stream, Yim waded back to shore. There she slipped on her sandals and hurried along the bank, for an unseen force was quickly pulling the boat to the lake. As she ran, she waved to Cara. “Good-bye, good-bye!” she called out, feeling inexplicably sad.

Cara called and waved back, seeming to be gripped by the same emotion. Eventually, she glided into the lake, stranding Yim on its shore. Cara continued to wave with her remaining hand, growing ever smaller until she was but a speck in a wide expanse of water that glowed with the shades of the evening sky.

As the light began to fade, a crow landed on Yim’s shoulder. Yim smiled and said, “Hello, Kwahku. Are you to guide me again?”

The bird cawed and flew to a tree branch in the distance. Despite her greeting to Kwahku, Yim felt hesitant to follow him, for she assumed that by doing so she was placing herself in the Old Ones’ power.
 
Why worry about that now? You’ve done it before 
. Nevertheless, Yim remained put. The faeries seemed aware of her intentions and obviously placed their hopes in her.
 
But are their goals the same as mine? Or Karm’s, for that matter?
 
Yim had no way of telling. The Old Ones might know much, but they were closemouthed.

After pondering the matter further, Yim felt forced to trust in the faeries’ benevolence. With Cara gone, following Kwahku offered her the best hope of reaching Honus. Thus Yim strode toward the waiting bird. Kwahku took off as
 soon as Yim reached him. He flew a short distance up a wooded slope, perched until Yim caught up with him, and then flew farther. He continued in that manner until it was dark. When Kwahku landed on a stony ledge and didn’t fly off again, Yim realized that she was supposed to camp there. She fed the crow some of the porridge grain, and opened a leaf-wrapped bundle for her dinner. It contained fresh spring strawberries and fall hazelnuts.

The ledge provided a commanding view of the lake and the village near its shore. As Yim watched, a line of torches moved from the hall to the dock. Strains of music drifted up, mingled with cheers.
 
Cara’s returned to her people 
, Yim thought,
 
in a flower-filled boat from the realm of Faerie 
. She smiled, imagining what songs the bards would weave from such a magic night. Then Yim went to sleep and dreamed of Honus.

Yim rose with the sun, ate a hasty meal with her feathered guide, and the two departed. Kwahku chose a rugged path, but Yim didn’t question his judgment. She was unarmed, and Lord Bahl wasn’t the only threat. Refugees had brought tales of savage feuding in the west, and more recently it was said that dark-haired women were in special danger. Thus Yim was anxious to travel unseen. The bird seemed to understand that.

By concentrating on her guide, Yim gained little sense of the route she traveled, other than it seemed erratic. Sometimes Kwahku soared high up and disappeared for a long while before returning to show the next leg of the journey. Yim was confident that the bird would keep her safe, but she was less certain that he was aware of her need for speed. It would gain her nothing to arrive alive and find Honus slain. She knew that he would reach Tor’s Gate long before she did. Yim had no idea if Lord Bahl would be waiting when Cronin’s troops arrived. A battle could be raging at that very moment. The only thing Yim could do was walk as quickly as possible, so she did.

Upon her first day of travel, Yim climbed the mountain above Cara’s lake, descended to the wooded valley on the other side, made her way along its length, ascended to a ridge, and followed its crest until sunset. Kwahku led her to a spot that was sheltered from the wind, but it was still cold. After eating, Yim gathered dried leaves. Then, wrapped in her cloak, she burrowed beneath them for warmth. The crow joined her to sleep.

The next day of travel was a blur of anxiety and exhaustion. Descending from the ridge was as hard as climbing to its crest. The valley below was a maze of jumbled boulders, and late in the afternoon, Yim waded across a wide swamp. She wondered if a bird could understand how difficult it was to walk through calf-deep muck. After nearly losing her scandals twice, she ended up carrying them. By the time they stopped for the day, Yim was so tired that she fell asleep while eating.

By the third day of travel, Yim lost any notion of where she was. Life was reduced to a matter of following the crow as her journey became a monotonous routine: Reach the bird, watch where he flew next, reach the bird again, and repeat over and over until it’s too dark to see. Yim had no idea of when the routine would end. For all she knew, it would stretch on for days. The following day was like the previous one. The only thing that changed was that the mountains were higher, but that didn’t stop Kwahku from leading Yim up one of them. She spent her coldest night yet near its summit.

The following morning, when Yim was descending the mountain’s other side, she was able to overlook the northwestern landscape. Below lay an irregular series of ridges, most of them too low to be called mountains. In the distance, beyond the jumble of heights and valleys, rose a range of formidable peaks. A few were so high as to be capped by snow. The mountains formed a solid wall except
 in one place. There, they were notched by a narrow valley surrounded by steep hills.
 
Tor’s Gate!
 
Yim thought, recognizing it from the maps.

As Yim climbed down the slope, she was encouraged to have seen her destination, but discouraged by its distance. Although it was hard to estimate how long it would take to reach Honus, she feared it would require several days. When Yim reached the valley floor, walking became easier, and she made better time. In the afternoon, she reached a long, broad valley that was mostly cleared and filled with peasant holdings. Judging from the state of the crops, the land looked fertile.

Up to that point, Kwahku had always avoided open places, but to Yim’s surprise he flew across a field and landed on the roof of the nearest dwelling. For a moment, Yim hesitated to follow him. “Don’t be silly,” she said aloud. “He won’t lead me astray now.” Yim headed for the house, which was similar to those that she had seen among Clan Dolbane. To reach it, she passed through a field of grain that was ready to harvest.