Annon could sense the waves of fear pounding against his own mind and realized that the Preachán was lost in the struggle. “Khiara, take his hand. Erasmus, close your eyes.”
Khiara took his hand and pulled him after her. His legs shuffled slowly but soon he was walking, staring down at the broken rocks at his feet. Annon approached the strange marker, staring into the void-like eyes, steeling himself against them. “Is this a trap?” he asked Lukias, feeling the ring on his finger and focusing on the answer.
“It is here to keep away trespassers. That is all. Come.”
They walked past the bronze work and the feeling immediately left them.
Erasmus twisted his neck and stared back at the rear side of the boulder. “You were right, Annon. It affects the mind most of all. I could only think of a thousand things that might be hiding up ahead. I couldn’t move my legs.”
Khiara patted his hand and released it, moving ahead down the way. The trail followed along the edge of the churning river. It began to grow colder as they ascended into the mountains, crunching on loose gravel as they walked. In some places, the path grew narrow as the side of the cliff was eaten away, spilling down into the river below. The defiles were dangerous but not too difficult to cross. Nizeera stayed close to Lukias, her tail lashing back and forth as if ready to pounce.
Farther up the road, another bronze work sculpture met them. This one did not radiate a feeling of fear. It looked similar to the one farther behind. As they approached it, the mouth of the sculptured face began to move. It spoke.
“This road is forbidden,” it said in a wintry voice that was neither male nor female. “What is the seventh seal of the Ruby Goddess?”
Khiara stepped forward. “The Grave,” she answered.
Lukias turned and looked at her in surprise and respect. “You know our lore surprisingly well, Vaettir. If you had not answered it properly, then the sculpture would have discharged energy into you that would have stopped your heart beating.”
She said nothing in response. The bronze work fell silent. The group progressed up the road. Long before they reached the end of it, the sun started to set, draping shadows through the pass as they wound their way up the shattered rock, maneuvering past boulders and trying to follow the path of the river. Lukias insisted they proceed. Clouds began roiling in the sky, bringing with it a faint drizzle that turned heavier and began pattering down on the rocks, promising a squall before dawn.
Annon hugged himself for warmth, focusing on the hard march and the pace Lukias set.
“Will we rest at all tonight?” Erasmus asked impatiently.
“We are almost to the summit of this pass,” the Rike answered. “You will see the advantage we gain by darkness soon. Farther.”
Khiara said nothing but matched him stride for stride. Annon felt the presence of inquisitive spirits in the air, curiously reaching out to him with their minds. He tried to encourage conversation, but none of them responded. They flitted away in the darkness, timid as bats. He wondered if the black robes they wore had daunted the spirits. The light rain turned into flaky snow. He shivered.
It was nearing midnight when they reached the top of the pass, which opened into a vast intermountain valley. There was a lake ahead, the waters shimmering in the darkness, black as a void and full of crushed rock around the edges. A shrine made of white marble rose from the side of the road near the placid waters of the lake, forming the headwaters that became the river they had followed. The shrine was a series of four arches, each capped with a turret. The road there was surrounded by boulders blocking the way. A fetid smell lingered in the air, rising up from the foul waters below. This was unexpected for the waters along the river had not contained such a scent.
The path began to descend toward the shrine before winding around one side of the lake. As they approached, the smell grew stronger. The place reeked of decay. Erasmus stumbled on the wet stones and went down. He grumbled a curse and rose, patting his backside. The way down was treacherous and slow. They all had to be careful.
The outline of the shrine grew brighter as the moon appeared through a gap in the clouds at last. The snow turned into a slushy rain. The lake looked black.
“Is this Basilides?” Annon asked in a whisper.
“No,” Lukias responded. “That is on the other side of the lake. This is a place we can rest until dawn. There are no servants here. It is a hostel only.”
As they neared the floor of the valley and the structure, Annon heard a sibilant hissing, two threads bouncing off the rocks at odd angles. The voices he heard amidst the shushing noise were in his mind. It was impossible to determine the source.
Yes, I smell them too. Delightful to have visitors tonight.
Quite delightful. Vaettir blood as well. Delicious.
One is a Preachán, though. Tainted. You may eat that one.
A pity. We will do riddles for the Vaettir girl though?