But the sight of Wolf Tongue was enough to stay his bloodlust. No one liked to thwart the Beast’s favorite.
Many weeks we journeyed, for our destination was far. People of every tribe gathered in a crowd behind us, camping so near us at night that I could often discern their whispering voices above the crackle of our campfires. The Beast had ravaged many a town when he came down from the mountains to demand his dues. The people of the Land were frightened. They wanted to be certain their god was satisfied.
At long last I saw the great mountain, tallest peak in the whole range, rising on the horizon. Once upon a time, it had been called Lady Whitehair, for its peak was covered in starflower vines that gleamed so bright at night that one could see the glow from great distances. It was said that mountain had once been the queen of all the giants, a great and terrible beauty.
All her beauty was gone since the fire fell from the heavens and smote that mountaintop. The blaze on Lady Whitehair was visible even as far as Redclay Village. And when it at last burnt out, all that remained was Bald Mountain. Cursed ground on which no living thing would flourish again.
It was there my fate awaited me.
At long last we began the mountain climb. I had never traveled so far north before and had certainly never been to the mountains. As we ascended those dizzying heights, I gasped in wonder at the world spread far below me. The mountains extended forever all around the Land. It was said that nothing existed beyond them. To cross over the Circle of Faces was to pass into the Void where the dead wander lost. I thought this must be true. The mountains were so high and so shrouded in clouds and mist, there could be nothing beyond them.
We spent the night before we reached the Place of the Teeth on the lower slopes of Bald Mountain. How evil was the ground beneath me! I smelled poison of bygone years, the poison of hatred beyond all bearing. No wonder it was here that the Beast demanded his gifts be brought. The dead mountain was a fitting site.
Our followers on this pilgrimage had increased so much by this time that the whole slope of Bald Mountain was alight with campfires. It was as though the dragon had fallen to burn the mountain a second time. All were afraid to sleep in darkness here, where the Beast dwelled, never seen but ever present.
But Wolf Tongue was with us as well, and he stood watch throughout the night. I could see him from where I lay among the twelve silent maidens with whom I traveled. I saw how our campfires reflected in his yellow eyes. His face never turned, but those eyes darted here and there, observing the night. How I feared that gaze would fall upon me!
But it never did. Since the moment I took my sister from his arms, Wolf Tongue had not so much as looked at me.
Morning dawned. The maidens in my company cut their feet in careful patterns, cringing at the thin red lines they inflicted on themselves. The Beast demands such cruel worship! I, however, was not cut. A perfect offering must be unblemished. Instead, I was dressed in my mother’s white doeskin wedding gown, and my hair was crowned in starflowers, bloodred in the young light of that new day.
The Eldest approached me, as handsome and stern as he had been when we began our journey. He held in his hands a wooden bowl full of lamb’s blood. This he handed to me. As I took it from him, I dared to look into his face. Briefly, oh, so briefly, our eyes met.
How difficult I found it to read the face of this man who was my father! Everything I saw contradicted everything I believed. Surely I was mistaken. I was a woman-child. I was a blight. I was of less value to him than his slaves. I was marked for death.
Surely he could not love me.
The way to the Place of the Teeth is secret. Only Wolf Tongue knows the hidden paths, and only those he allows may follow him there. Those shadowing our procession of holy men and virgins could not join on that final ascent. They tried, of course. Curiosity will drive many a soul to dreadful extremes. But as we climbed that lonely trail, I felt the shift. The air went cold for an instant. When I looked behind me, the path I had just traveled was obscured, and the people who followed had vanished from my sight.
The maidens with me trembled but bowed their heads and hastened on. The priests and warriors proceeded without pause.
My hands shook. I watched the blood sloshing in the wooden bowl I held, desperate to keep from spilling a single drop. Such importance rested in that one task! Not to spill. Not to spill. Not to think of Fairbird. Not to think of what waited at the end of my climb. Not to spill.