The Northern Approach (19 page)

“What’s our best way out of here?” Raeln asked Yoska, motioning toward the valley spread out below them. “I’ve only seen about a quarter of the place and have no idea what’s past it.”

Yoska got up and squinted at the valley, raising his eyes to the sky. He pointed vaguely, gesturing between two points among the mountains that Raeln was fairly certain he was choosing at random. “Ancestors say we go northwest,” he announced, smiling.

“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you?” Raeln asked, crossing his arms. “I’m pretty sure that’s northeast.”

“No, is true that I make that up,” Yoska admitted, looking sheepish as he turned to meet the watchful eyes of On’esquin. “Ancestors actually say to go east, but that takes us into glorious battle against the enemy and closer to old brewery north of Altis. I think ancestors get priorities wrong sometimes, so we go north to live a little longer, yes? My great-mother think I should visit more and I think she is trying to get me dead sooner than later.”

Raeln groaned, wondering why he had bothered to ask the man anything important. Still, he had no idea where they were and less than no idea of how to get to the vague destination On’esquin had set for them. He was not even sure there were a dozen people in the world beyond gypsies and Turessians who actually knew precisely where Turessi was on a map.

“Where are we going?” asked Estin, blinking and looking around in confusion. He had been up the entire night, lost in thought. “I need to go to my children.”

On’esquin spoke up quickly. “Estin, it would be unwise to go to Corraith. You are still there with your family. They are alive and well, as they were more than a year ago. If you traveled there and arrived before you left, do you have any idea what would happen to you or them?”

“No.”

“Neither do I,” On’esquin confessed. “Some things are best left untouched. We will go there after we have faced down those responsible for the deaths we have seen. This I promise to you on my clan and my blood.”

“Atall might still be alive…”

“Nothing can change that,” the orc said over top of Estin’s argument. “The gods themselves are unable to rewrite what has happened. We can only move forward. If we try to change what has happened, likely he will still die and more with him.”

Estin seemed to think on that for some time, his hands gently stroking the bag of ash and bone. Finally, he nodded and got up, tying the sack to his belt. “Promise me one more thing,” he told On’esquin as he started down the slope toward the lake where he had first arrived. “Promise that you will find Oria and give her Feanne’s remains if I don’t survive. Bring mine too.”

On’esquin agreed and grabbed Raeln’s arm to hold him back at the rear of the group. Once Estin was far enough away, he said softly, “I doubt any of us will live to see this through. I would not feel right having all of you ignorant of that fact.”

“I figured that out already,” Raeln answered, pulling On’esquin’s hand off his arm. “I’m ready to die for revenge. I think all three of us are, whether we want to admit it or not. That’s why he asked you, not Yoska and not me. You’ll outlive us once you’re healed.”

Setting off down the path, Raeln struggled to keep up with the healthier men at the front. He knew this would be a short journey for him. His leg would likely never heal, and without magic, he had his doubts about any of them living through a week with their injuries.

He looked off toward the trees that lined the old animal path they walked and saw something shadowy out there, watching from the deeper brush. For a moment he thought to warn the others, but then decided there was no point. Instead, he waited until his companions were paying more attention to the path than to each other and turned toward the woods as he stopped. Tapping his chest with a closed fist, Raeln saluted whatever was out there in a traditional warrior’s greeting, usually meant to indicate the warrior knew he was outmatched but ready to die.

The shadows moved and the creature darted away.

Smiling to himself, Raeln wondered when it would come for him. He dearly hoped it would be soon, if only to give the rest of his companions better odds of traveling to safety without having to wait on him.

*

The journey through the valley took several days, surprising Raeln at how wide the place really was. He had never gotten a clear picture of it from the plateau where they had camped, but between the lake and the dense woods, the place would have made an ideal place to hide out for years, were it not for the mists that had been there when they had arrived.

Those first few days were easier on Raeln, as Yoska had managed to find an offshoot of the river that left the mountains flowing steadily in more or less the direction they wanted to go. He had put together a simple raft and the four of them had floated downriver at a pace Raeln certainly could not have matched with his leg still growing worse by the day.

Eventually, the river had turned west and south, forcing them to abandon their raft and the seemingly endless supply of fish that they had survived on. They had traveled easily a hundred miles while taking time to rest and recover as best they could, which seemed to have given them all a small degree of fresh hope.

Once they were on foot again and well into the woods of the northern mountains, animals were abundant, as were berries and the occasional unripened fruit, allowing them to gather plenty of food as they went. For the first time in weeks, Raeln felt as though he had a fighting chance—his belly no longer told him he would die at any moment, though his leg continued to worsen. By the eighth day of travel, he had been forced to stop the group nearly every hour to rest and rub feeling back into his leg. They had been understanding, but Raeln wondered how long that would last. He could see no reason for them to endure the constant delays, and he kept hoping one morning he would wake to find they had left without him.

At midday that day, he tripped on a hidden root and stumbled, unable to catch himself without both legs. Falling hard, he tried to roll with the landing, but had no way to do that with his crutch nearly under him. He came down hard, tasting blood and then biting down a scream as his leg shifted and the bone popped sharply at his hip.

Raeln lay where he had fallen as On’esquin came running to him. Yoska was likely far enough ahead that he was unaware, but Estin did not turn. Instead, the man stopped and stared at his hands as though confused again.

“Stop this foolishness,” Raeln told On’esquin, slapping away his hands as the man tried to help him up. “I can’t do this, On’esquin. Take them and go.”

“Raeln,” offered the orc, trying to grab Raeln’s hand to pull him up, but Raeln snarled and shoved him away again. “We need each other…”

Before Raeln could spit a rebuke at On’esquin, he realized the orc no longer wore his sling. The hand he had tried to use to pull Raeln upright was his wounded one, but he seemed to have regained his strength. Even the skin had taken on a more natural green color. “You healed,” Raeln observed out loud, and On’esquin seemed surprised too as he stared at his arm. He flexed it and smiled. “Does that mean…?”

“We have our magic back,” called out Estin, turning to face them with a ball of glowing light in his hand. “Too late for Feanne, but not too late for you. Someone or something is watching out for you.” Taking a knee beside Raeln, Estin let the light vanish. He placed that hand on Raeln’s hip, clearly trying to be as gentle as he could. Still, the pain from even that touch was excruciating, though Raeln stifled his cry. “This will feel awful,” warned Estin, closing his eyes. “On three, I’ll put the bones back where they belong.”

“One…” Raeln said aloud and then heat flared into his leg and hip. He felt the muscles strain as the bone lurched into its proper position, snapping loudly. He tried to keep quiet, but the pain was so intense he screamed for several seconds. When he managed to stop, the pain was rapidly fading away. Even the swelling diminished with each passing second as Estin sat back, smiling at Raeln.

“Give it an hour or two,” Estin said, patting his chest. “You’ll be fine. It’ll hurt in cold or rainy weather for the rest of your life, but it’s healed.”

Estin got up then and passed On’esquin on his way into the trees. No one stopped him, but Raeln wondered where he could possibly be going.

“All is not lost yet,” said On’esquin, sitting down beside Raeln as Yoska came back into sight nearby. “Trust in your companions, Raeln. I have waited many lifetimes for them, and I believe they are all far more capable than either of us knows. This is why I did not panic when we could not find them at first.”

Raeln looked off in the direction Estin had gone, noting that Yoska had followed. At least someone was watching out for Estin.

“There were supposed to be six of us that joined you,” Raeln said, getting up gingerly in case his leg had not healed as quickly as he had thought. It had actually healed far more than expected and felt nearly as strong as the day he had hurt it, though tender. “Yoska and I make two.”

“Estin makes three.”

“He had a wife and two children,” noted Raeln. “That would have been six. No coincidence, you keep saying. You may wish to keep the details of the prophecy from the others until we figure out how much trouble we’re in without them. Search your prophecies for some way we don’t get these two killed pointlessly.”

Raeln walked away from On’esquin, who had put a hand to the rolled prophecy parchments. He knew On’esquin would find a way to believe there was hope in those pages, as he always had. The words were vague enough that he could always convince himself there was another way. For now Raeln hoped he could find enough excuses to make it look like they were on anything but a suicide mission.

Making his way through the trees, Raeln followed his nose to locate Estin, finding Yoska standing a short distance from where he had left On’esquin. The gypsy stood near some trees, staring at something not far away, his eyes wide. “What is…?” Raeln began, but Yoska reached out and grabbed at his muzzle, trying to hold his mouth shut.

Taking the hint but baring his teeth to warn the man not to touch his face again, Raeln began looking around, trying to find what Yoska was so enraptured by. Then, he saw what Estin was doing.

Seated on the ground with his tail wrapped over his legs like a blanket, Estin was faced away from them. In front of him was a moss-covered stone, taller than Raeln, though that was clearly not what he was looking at.

Hovering in the air before Estin was a faint silhouette of a woman Raeln recognized as the woman they had laid to rest, Feanne. She was small in Raeln’s mind, a little shorter even than Estin and far thinner, though she had a lean strength he would have expected of a feline, rather than a fox. Her mouth moved as she spoke, but Raeln could hear nothing. Every so often, Estin would answer softly.

“How did he do this?” Raeln whispered.

Yoska shook his head in amazement. “Is not something he could do when I saw him last,” the man whispered back. “Is not something I thought could be done by anyone. She is happy, though. She tells him that it was not his fault and that she will wait for him. As I had hoped, she will be a spirit ancestor to watch and guide him, if he knows to listen. She protects us all out of loyalty to him.”

“You can hear her?”

Yoska smirked and nodded. “My people do not lie when we say we hear our ancestors,” he explained, still keeping his voice low. “The spirits of the dead speak to many of my people, though far fewer can speak back to them. We do not use magic as Estin is, but we also have less control over when and if our ancestors pay us a visit. Is mostly on their terms, not ours.”

“How strong is he that he can do something like this?”

“I will not tell him, but he is one of the strongest I’ve found across many lands,” admitted Yoska. “Is not through practice, but is something about him you will learn. This man, he will always push past any limit put on him when it is for those he loves. He was told he was too weak to be with this woman, but he married her anyway after beating down man who tried to kill her. He was told he could not be a good healer, but he has saved very many lives.

“Do not think I do not hear what the magic green man says,” Yoska added before Raeln could reply. “We are not supposed to live through touching the mists, but Estin has done it twice. He is both unluckiest and luckiest man we have ever met, yes?”