“Why not wait for them in a place of our choosing?” Paedrin suggested, tapping his staff against his palm. “We have the high ground and the chance to surprise them.”
Erasmus shook his head. “They outnumber us and I am sure they know about what we can do. We must go faster and reach the lair before them. We have only traveled during the day so far, so we should travel all night now. That improves the odds of outdistancing them…hmmm….a little.”
“Only a little?” Annon asked.
“I have not changed my previous prediction, Annon, that it is nearly impossible. You see, there is a ravine with only one way in or out. We must get there and out before they catch us.”
They pushed harder into the mountains and were not overtaken at nightfall. They were grateful for a waxing moon to offer light. It was an arduous trail and punished their legs and stamina, making the hours pass slowly. The stars shifted noticeably with the passing night. Still they went higher, and the landscape began to transform once more. The trees became more sparse, the scrub more barren. Jagged clefts of rock and boulders appeared next, creating tortuous trails that wound up and back. It was painful going, but eventually dawn greeted them, revealing a new world that the night had hidden from sight.
The waterfalls were even more majestic and imposing, giant clouds of water plumes exploding from ridges and crags, disappearing into a shroud of mist deep into canyons below. As they finally exited the woods, the caps of the mountains became visible at last, higher still and jabbing into the sky like knives. Towers and parapets were grafted into the snow-capped peaks, gushing an unending billow of sooty smoke.
Annon stopped and stared at the massive structures. He could not understand, for a moment, that hands had created them. There was a wall of mountains, and each mountain had twelve to fifteen towers crowning it, each tall and crafted with crenellations and crowned with pennants. The years it must have taken to craft so many. The city seemed older than the world. Bridges connected between some of the towers, and waterfalls tumbled from the upper reaches, mixing the water spray with the soot-smoke. Due to the height, there was perpetual snow, and the contrast between the white snow and the black towers was impressive.
“I have never seen such a thing,” Annon whispered in amazement. “This is the seat of the Cruithne? This is Alkire? It is more massive than the island city.”
Paedrin stopped short, hands on his hips, and whistled softly. “It makes the temples of Seithrall seem like a child’s plaything. I never imagined such a place.”
Erasmus, still wheezing, came up next to him. “The air…is thinner…up here. Harder to catch…your breath. Those fortresses have been built over centuries. Stonehollow built them.”
“Why so high?” Annon asked, staring at the distant peaks and towers. “They are above the line of trees where it is too cold and rocky to grow. Where do they get wood for their fires?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Erasmus said. “They do not use wood to burn for flame. They harvest blackrock. It burns hotter and longer. These mountains are thick with veins of it. They also harvest the waterfalls as well. They dam up the mountain lakes and use giant waterwheels to power their forges. See over there? See the dam?”
Annon did. Between two of the mountain peaks was an enormous wall, so massive it looked like the face of a cliff itself. Contained behind it was a mountain lake, so deep, blue, and rippling that it seemed a reflection of the sky. What life teemed in those waters? How cold it would be to learn the Druidecht lore of the high mountains.
Erasmus pointed to a squat mountain—one of the shortest. “Deep in the caverns, they find gems and precious stones, then shape and carve them. They sell these treasures to Kenatos. The rivers carry the goods downstream to Havenrook, and then they are boxed and loaded in barges or caravans.”
Hettie shook her head. “But Kenatos is to the west of here. Why ship them south and then back up again? It doesn’t make sense.”
Erasmus turned and gave her a mocking smile. “Because the mountains to the west, between us and Kenatos, are cursed with beings of evil. No Cruithne will travel there. Or should I say, very few will travel there.”
Paedrin frowned. “Which means that is where we are going.”
Erasmus smiled. “Correct, sheep-brains. For once.”
Annon remembered camping in the woods before reaching Havenrook and the warning he had received from the spirits. He shuddered, keeping his thoughts to himself. “How far is it?”
“We will make it there before sunset. But we need to rest a bit. We go down from here. My knees are not as young as they used to be.” He stopped and stared at the vast range of mountains, at the fortresses and haze and waterfalls. He counted them softly, muttering as he went. “Hmmm. There are fewer waterfalls than last time. Interesting.”
“What does that mean?” Hettie asked.
He smiled wisely. “Opportunity.”