Pug said, “But where are they to be found?”
“Attend,” said Gathis. “Beyond the Endless Sea lies the southern continent, called Novindus by men. From north to south a range of mountains runs, called in the language of those men the Ratn’gari, which means “Pavilion of the Gods”. Upon the two tallest peaks, the Pillars of Heaven, stands the Celestial City, or so men say, the home of the gods. Below those peaks, in the foothills stands the Necropolis, the City of the Dead Gods. The highest-placed temple, one that rests against the base of the mountains, honours the four lost gods. There you will find a tunnel into the heart of the Celestial Mountains. This is the entrance to the Halls of the Dead.”
Pug considered. “We shall sleep the night, then call Ryath and cross the Endless Sea.”
Tomas turned without comment, beginning the trek back to Macros’s castle. There was no discussion. They had no choice. The sorcerer had been nothing if not thorough.
Ryath banked. For hours they had flown faster than Pug had thought possible. The Endless Sea had rolled below, a vast ocean of seemingly uncrossable size. But the dragon had not hesitated an instant in accepting their destination. Now, hours later, they were flying over a continent on the other side of the world. They had moved from east to west as well as crossing to the southern hemisphere, so they had gained some daylight. In late afternoon, they had sighted the southern continent, Novindus. First they had crossed a great sand wasteland, bounded by high cliffs running for hundreds of miles along the seacoast. Any who landed from a ship on that northern coast would have days of travel and a dangerous climb before drinking water could be found. Then the dragon had cut across grasslands. Far below, hundreds of strange wagons surrounded by herds of cattle, sheep, and horses had been moving from north to south. Some nomadic people, a nation of herdsmen, was following the tracks of its ancestors, oblivious to the dragon high overhead.
Then they saw the first city. A mighty river, reminding Pug of the Gagajin on Kelewan, cut across the grasslands. On the southern shore a city had arisen, and farther south farmland could be seen. Far to the southwest, in the haze of evening, a range of mountains rose: the Pavilion of the Gods.
Ryath began to descend, and they soon approached the centre of the range, a pair of peaks that rose high above those surrounding, disappearing into clouds, the Pillars of Heaven. At the base of the mountains, deep forests hid anything that might have existed. The dragon spent the last minutes of light seeking a clearing in which to land.
The dragon set down, then said, “I go to hunt. When I finish, I shall sleep. I would rest for a time.”
Tomas smiled. “You will not be needed for the balance of this journey. Where we venture, we may not return and you would have difficulty finding us.”
The dragon projected a sense of amusement at that last remark. “Thou hast lost some sense of things, Valheru. Else thou wouldst remember there is no place within the span of space I may not reach, should I have but a reason.”
“This place exists beyond even your ability to reach, Ryath. We enter the Halls of the Dead.”
“Then thou shalt indeed be beyond my ability to find, Tomas. Still, if thou and thy friend survive this journey, and return to the realms of life, thou hast but to call and I shall answer. Hunt well, Valheru. For I shall.” The dragon rose upward, extending her wings, then with a leap and a bound she launched herself into the darkening sky.
Tomas remarked, “She is tired. Dragons usually hunt wild game, but I think some farmer may find a brace of sheep or a cow missing tomorrow. Ryath will sleep days with a full belly.”
Pug looked about in the deepening gloom. “In our haste, we neglected such provision for ourselves.”
Tomas sat upon a deadfall and said, “Such things never occurred in those sagas of our youth.”
Pug looked at his friend questioningly and Tomas said, “Remember the woods near Crydee when we were boys?” His expression turned mirthful. “In all our youthful dramas we conquered our foes in time to get home for dinner.”
Pug joined his friend in sitting. With a small chuckle, he said, “I remember. You always played the fallen hero of some great tragic battle, bidding his loyal followers goodbye.”
Tomas’s voice revealed a thoughtful tone. “Only this time we don’t simply get up and return to Mother’s kitchen for a hot meal after we’re killed.”