The Northern Approach (20 page)

Raeln could not take his eyes off the ghostly image of Feanne. She seemed as alive as any of them, despite him being able to see through her. Her very presence left him with so many questions. Her smile at something Estin said warmed his heart, knowing the dead could be happy despite what had happened to them.

“Raeln?” asked Estin, turning slightly. “My mate would like to speak with you. Come here, please.”

Raeln’s stomach knotted up as the ghostly woman’s blue eyes lifted to stare at him. She was deadly, that much he could see by posture and expression. Something about her warned him that she would gladly kill him if he gave her a good reason. He had fought men and monsters for years and this slight fox woman—even if she had been flesh and blood—made him think he had met someone he would not willingly ever challenge.

Stepping from the cover of the trees, Raeln approached somewhat nervously, the silvery glow of the woman’s form doing nothing to hide the predatory way she watched him, her clawed hands kept away from her sides as though she might attack at any moment. He recognized the stance of a warrior trying to look relaxed, something very familiar from his time with Greth.

“Feanne,” said Estin, addressing the ghost, “this is Raeln. He found us after you passed. I owe him my life. If he had not found me, I doubt I would have been able to go on.”

The ghost inclined her head slightly, a mild indication of thanks. To Raeln’s surprise, she then began walking around him, studying him as though sizing up a foe. He had not even considered a ghost might be able to roam freely when summoned.

“She says that you will protect me, now that she cannot,” Estin explained as Feanne spoke silently. “That is not a request, she adds. If I die before it is the right time for me, she will find a way to cross over and kill you. I don’t think she’s exaggerating, either.”

Raeln looked down at the ghostly fox, whose wicked smirk confirmed what Estin was saying. She met his eyes challengingly, waiting for some reply.

“I promise that I will do what I can to keep him alive,” Raeln told her, even as he tried to convince himself. “That is all I can offer you.”

The woman seemed to consider that and then bowed her head again in thanks. Turning back to Estin, she brushed her hands across his face and was gone, as though she had never been there, leaving no scent or prints in her passing.

“She will hold you to that,” warned Estin, putting a hand to his head as though he were dizzy. “If anyone can claw her way back from death, I believe she can. I’m her mate and I wouldn’t dare break a promise made to her for fear of my life.”

Raeln stared at the place where Feanne had been moments earlier, trying to piece together what had just happened. He gradually accepted he had truly spoken with someone who had died.

“Estin, can you bring anyone back like that?” he asked, mind racing. “If I had someone who I wanted to say good-bye to…?”

Estin shook his head and got up, nearly falling as he lost his balance. Once he was able to stand more easily, he replied, “Not just anyone. There has to be a connection…something that links the people physically. They have to want to come too. It helps if I knew them. I’ll be happy to try, but it’ll be a few days or weeks before I can again. That’s one of the hardest spells I’ve ever learned, and I’m not back to full strength anyway. It’s easier to shove a spirit back into their body than it is to do this.”

Raeln nodded and let Estin walk away, trying to think whether he wanted him to even try to bring back Greth. It was not a guarantee and Raeln had no idea if Greth would even want him to do it. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself. Perhaps once Estin felt stronger, he could broach the topic, but until then it would remain a happy possibility. Even the faint chance of seeing Greth one last time was enticing, giving him a hope he had not felt in some time.

“Is long road ahead,” Yoska called to Raeln, motioning for him to hurry up. “You may be feeling better, but you do not want to run the whole way, no?”

Looking up at the sky, Raeln offered up a sincere prayer of thanks for finding Estin. If any gods were listening, he hoped they had as much faith in the small group as On’esquin seemed to. He whispered that prayer to the gods of the fields and sky that his village had worshipped, the dragons that had come and gone, and to anything else that might listen.

*

The next two weeks passed uneventfully for the most part, with any conversation mostly centered around the tasks at hand, such as finding shelter in the mountains, food, or water. The journey through the rest of the valley was done in near silence, with only Yoska seeming to want to talk, though that was generally to himself or the “ancestors” he claimed he heard. On’esquin had grown stronger with each passing day and he eventually took the lead with occasional prompting from Yoska with regard to directions.

Estin had kept quiet as he traveled, generally only watching the ground as he walked, often trailing the group. The man showed no emotion, no indication of what he might be thinking. The only times Raeln saw any indication he was recovering from his loss was in the early mornings when Estin could generally be found sitting somewhere he could face the rising sun. During that quiet contemplation, he seemed to be at peace with the world, one hand always on his necklace as he sat there, eyes closed as he soaked up the sunlight. In a way those quiet moments seemed so like Raeln’s meditation, back when he could still do that without memories getting in the way.

From what Raeln could make out as they moved through the mountains, they were definitively lost. The day before, they had come into a narrow pass between mountains that appeared to wind its way northwest until it disappeared beyond the limit of his sight. There seemed to be no end to the road ahead or the mountains around it. For all Raeln could tell, they could have been going in circles, were it not for the sun’s rise and set to mark direction. Without that, Raeln would have challenged Yoska’s claim that they were making progress long before. Even seeing the sun rising off to his right each morning, he had begun to wonder if they had any hope of making it out of the mountains anytime soon.

To either side Raeln saw only the grey peaks with their white snowy tops for miles. A little below the path they walked, snaking from the side of one mountain to the next, were endless dense forests that could have concealed almost anything. Thoughts of the vast army of the dead that had destroyed the last city he had seen plagued him the whole way, wondering if and when thousands of corpses might come out of those woods and stumble up the steep slopes toward the paths above in an effort to get at the four living men.

It was that fear of the armies finding them that kept Raeln watchful every night—and prevented him from sleeping more than a few minutes every so often when his body simply could not go on without it. He had not slept more than two hours at a time in weeks, maybe months, but he knew the odds were good of being found out eventually. He wanted to be ready, even if he were too tired to fight when it came.

Then, there were the eyes in the dark.

As they had back on the plateau, a pair of nearly white eyes reflected the dim light and watched them each night, usually starting an hour or two after the sun set. There seemed to be no malice in whatever the creature was; it certainly had plenty of opportunities to attack, both before and after the men had recovered from their wounds. Still, he could not shake the concern that whatever followed them might be tied to the undead armies, possibly even reporting back to their leader, Dorralt.

“The light is fleeing from us again,” announced On’esquin, as he had most evenings. After so long traveling with him, Raeln hardly even noticed some of the odd phrases he used. Long ago, On’esquin had admitted that some things simply did not translate well from ancient Turessian to the common trade tongue used in the region. “We can camp by those rocks ahead of us. The winds should be mostly blocked there.”

Raeln dropped to the back of the group, ensuring the others had heard On’esquin’s directions or would follow him if they had not. As it had been every evening, Estin nearly wandered past and had to be physically guided to where he should stop, as though too lost in thought to be bothered with what was happening around him. He mumbled his thanks as he followed Raeln’s direction.

The routines of each of them were so ingrained that they were difficult to alter anymore. They came into the shelter and immediately began settling in, with Yoska hurriedly building a small area for a fire and ducking out into the nearby scrub brush to collect kindling, while On’esquin tossed aside his pack and weapons before leaving to grab wood for the campfire. Raeln’s duty was to find food, but he always waited until the others returned to ensure Estin was not left alone. Though Estin certainly seemed to be more functional than he had been when he first joined the group, he was so distracted and emotionless that Raeln refused to allow him to be left by himself for fear that whatever was in the woods might kill him without him so much as yelling for help.

By the time Raeln reached the shelter of the high stones that appeared to have fallen from farther up the mountain—leading Estin by the arm the whole way—Yoska and On’esquin were already off searching for wood and kindling, hurrying to finish their tasks before the light had gone completely.

Easing Estin into the back of the sheltered area, Raeln waited until the man sat down and looked ready to fall asleep, draping his tail over his face to block out the last light of the day. Raeln knew Estin would not intentionally go anywhere, but he always worried he might get confused and think they were still marching on and wander off if not watched. Soon the wildling was asleep, as he likely would be until they put food under his chin or everyone began walking again. He might not have seemed as grief-stricken as he had been when Raeln had found him, but Estin was certainly in no shape for the journey they were making, and Raeln wondered if he would ever fully recover.

Raeln sat down beside Estin on a flat-topped stone, shaking his head at the ease with which the man fell asleep. He seemed to have no concerns in the world beyond walking, eating, and sleeping anymore. It seemed to be such an easy life compared with Raeln’s constant concerns for whether the others would be all right.

His legs throbbing from the days of walking, Raeln picked up one of his feet and looked over the doglike pads there. They were torn and bleeding, swollen, and likely infected. He envied Yoska and On’esquin for being able to wear boots, but the pain in his feet of walking on rough terrain was something he had always accepted as the norm for his people. Now, after so long on sharp stones and gravel, he wondered how regular animals managed it. Hooves or boots, either would have been a far easier way to travel. If the cities ever recovered, he fully intended to commission a leatherworker to design boots for wildlings, even if he had to cut off his claws to make them fit.

Raeln let his foot drop, trying not to wince as he put it back onto the nearly powdered gravel that filled the shelter. The small rocks bit into the already-deep wounds on his feet, making it hard to think of anything but…

He blinked and stared at the entrance to the stone-surrounded shelter, where a bright-red fox—an animal, rather than a wildling—stood staring back at him, partially crouched. The animal appeared surprised to find itself as close as it was, but unwilling to run and thus draw attention to itself. Instead, it lowered itself a little closer to the ground, clearly hoping to slink away if Raeln did not make any sudden moves. The beast kept its tail low and eyes locked on him.

“Just go,” Raeln told the animal, laughing a little as he relaxed. “I won’t hurt you. Run along.”

The fox cocked its head as it watched him and slunk a little farther into the shelter, rather than running. After he did not attack it, the fox darted over to Estin and lay down near him, not taking its eyes off Raeln.

“Strange little thing,” muttered Raeln, getting to his feet and trying to use his size to intimidate the fox. It bared its teeth briefly, but then hurriedly ran around Estin, keeping the man between them, its head poking up over Estin’s shoulder.

Raeln tried to get closer to the animal, but it kept dodging behind Estin, who lifted his tail off his face to look around in confusion. With an angry yip, the fox dove over Estin’s legs, around to his side, and then peeked over his hip at Raeln, growling angrily. Out of instinct, Raeln growled back, and the fox ducked behind Estin’s shoulder and poked its long muzzle out from under his arm.

“Hold still, Estin,” Raeln advised, picking up a small rock. “I’ll scare it off. I don’t want you getting bitten.”