[Shadowed Path 02] - Candle in the Storm (17 page)

When she recovered further, Honus asked, “What just happened?”

“I was foolish,” replied Yim. “I probed the priest’s mind too deeply, and alerted his master.” She rose shakily to her feet. “We must leave this road and take another route to Cara’s. Honus, find some way that’s wild and seldom traveled.”

“I know of such a path. It’ll be a hard one.”

“No matter,” replied Yim. “Today I challenged Death, and it’ll be looking for me.”

SEVENTEEN

AS IN
most of Averen, it was but a short distance from farms and roads to the wild. Honus headed toward a north-facing slope, and soon he and Yim were struggling up its steep, rocky side. Scrubby trees hid them from view, and they saw no sign of humanity. “How fast must we go?” asked Honus. “Do you fear pursuit?”

“I doubt anyone will trail us,” replied Yim. “But all the black priests will be on the watch, and they’ll turn folk against us like they did in Vinden.”

“Then I’ll try to avoid people,” said Honus. “It should be easy enough on the way we’re headed.” He slowed his pace and was mindful as he chose their route that Yim bore a heavy pack and had lost her sandals. However, there was no easy way up the steep slope, and the climb eventually had Yim sweating and panting. When they stopped to rest, Honus started to rummage through the pack.

“What are you doing?” asked Yim.

“I’m going to don my chain mail,” he said. “You needn’t carry it.”

“Leave it be. I won’t have you tiring yourself. What use is a weary Sarf?”

“Karmamatus …”

“Honus, our grain sack’s nearly empty. After we travel farther, I intend to laze about while you hunt me up a feast.”

“I’ll try, but game can be hard to come by.”

“What? Will there be no fallen logs?” Yim grinned and
 licked her lips. “Surely, they’ll be full of wood grubs.” She laughed when Honus blanched.

He quickly changed the subject. “When you spoke to that priest, you said you had faced the Devourer before. When?”

“On the night I became your Bearer. Also at Karvakken Pass. But I wasn’t certain it was the Devourer until I probed that priest today.”

Honus regarded Yim with awe. She caught his look and rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop it, Honus!”

“I’m just…” Honus looked elsewhere. “… just surprised. I’ve never heard of anyone facing the Devourer, not in all my years at the temple.”

“I guess I’m just lucky,” replied Yim in a wry tone.

“And the Devourer wants death?”

“It craves it,” replied Yim.

“Yet it bestows power to its followers.”

“True, but to what end does it bestow that power? Look at Lord Bahl. He doesn’t conquer; he destroys. His master wants only death.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know the answer,” said Yim. “Neither did the priest, or at least, he was restrained from revealing it.”

“So when I slew him, I also pleased his god,” said Honus. He shook his head. “What kind of god is that?”

“‘God’ is but a word,” said Yim, “and men are careless how they use it.”

“God or no, how can such a thing be fought?”

Yim sighed. “I’m not sure it’s possible.”

Yim and Honus slowly made their way up the slope, pausing frequently. By early afternoon, they reached the winding ridgeline that comprised the mountain’s summit. From there, they could view the land beyond. Another mountain ridge lay so close that Yim could make out individual trees upon its slope. Between the two ridges was a steep-sided and narrow
 valley. It looked like the sun would reach its floor only while it was directly overhead, and already most of the valley was shaded by the adjacent mountain. From where Yim stood, all she could see were trees and a long lake, its shadowed surface as blue-black as the night sky.

“That place seems far from the beaten track,” said Yim, surveying the wild terrain.

“It is,” replied Honus, “and I don’t gladly take you there.”

“We walked through Luvein. This place looks scarcely wilder.”

“See that lake?” said Honus. “It lies in Faerie. Even in daytime, its surface reflects starlight.”

Yim gazed at the lake with curiosity. She could see no stars twinkling on its dark surface. “Have you seen this yourself, or are you repeating old tales?”

“Not all old tales are false.”

“So the starlight’s only hearsay,” said Yim. “Besides, at Devren’s hut they said Faerie lies close to Cara’s hall.”

“There’s more than one dell in Averen where the Ancient Folk still linger, and mortals best stay clear of them.”

“And this valley’s such a place?”

“In part,” said Honus. “I certainly wouldn’t venture near that lake.”

Yim smiled slightly. “Why? Because of faeries? I’ve heard tales also. They’re tiny folk with dragonfly wings. Mischievous, perhaps, but certainly not perilous.”

“Do you have faerie dells in the Cloud Mountains?”

“No,” admitted Yim.

“Well they do in Averen, and here tales differ. No tiny sprites dwell in such places, but creatures with little love for our kind.”

“How so?”

“If you were present at the world’s beginning, would you be pleased with what we’ve done to it?”

Yim thought of Luvein. “I guess not.”

“So we’ll follow this ridge west awhile, and enter the valley farther from the lake.”

When Yim and Honus finally descended into the valley, the way was steep but not overly long. They reached its shadowed floor by late afternoon. There, the woods seemed already wrapped in twilight. Upon her journey, Yim had passed through many forests, but the one in the valley seemed different from all of them. It took her a while before she decided why.
 
It’s undisturbed 
, she thought. The trees appeared ancient and the undergrowth beneath them was unmarked by pathways. The plant life was lush and the air was filled with birdsong and the sounds of creatures rustling among the leaves. There was a sacred quality to the place that made Yim decide against sending Honus out to hunt.

Honus found a game trail and was following its narrow, winding route when he suddenly halted. Yim peered around him and saw a girl of no more than eleven winters standing on the trail. She carried a bark basket filled with cattails and was strangely dressed in a short tunic made from the pelts of various small animals. Leaves and entire plants dangled from a cord that was tied around her waist—so many that they formed a kind of herbal skirt. Both the “skirt” and tunic ended high above the girl’s knees, and her feet and long legs were bare.

Despite the girl’s unusual garb, it was her face that seized Yim’s attention. Her skin was as pale as moonlight and her long red hair was tied back. Both these things emphasized her eyes. They were the lightest shade of blue that Yim had ever seen. The girl gazed at Yim with none of the shyness common to children but with a look that was at once piercing and serene. It made the child seem wise, as did her knowing smile.

The girl paid no attention to Honus, walking past him to reach Yim. Then she knelt on the ground, set down her
 basket, and seized Yim’s right hand with both of hers to kiss it. Only then did she speak. “Welcome, Mother. I’ll lead you to food and shelter.” She turned to glance at Honus. “He may come also.” Then, taking up her basket, she rose and stepped from the trail.

The girl merged so silently into the undergrowth that, for a moment, Yim thought the child had vanished. Then she heard her voice again. “Come, Mother, you know it’s safe.” Yim, certain that the girl spoke truly, pushed her way into the undergrowth. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as she followed her guide. Honus trailed behind, moving more quietly, but not matching the perfect silence of the girl. That silence discouraged speech, and Yim refrained from asking any questions.

Yim and Honus’s guide took a long and convoluted route through the densest part of the forest, and it wasn’t long before Yim lost her sense of direction. All she knew was that they were moving closer to the lake. Suddenly, the girl halted. If it wasn’t for the smoke rising from a stone chimney, Yim might have missed the dwelling altogether. It resembled a hillock within the forest, topped by an ancient tree with tangled roots. Only upon closer examination was Yim able to spot a knee-high hole forming an entrance among those roots.

“This is my home,” said the girl. “Na metal may enter it.” She gave a sharp glance to Honus. “Especially your killing stick.”

When Honus seemed about to protest, Yim said, “Your sword stays outside. I’m in no danger here.”

Honus looked perplexed, but he unstrapped his sword and leaned it against the pack, which Yim had unshouldered and set upon the ground. As he did this, a woman crawled out from the entrance to the hillock. Her hair was dazzling white, but her face looked neither young nor old. Like the girl, she was dressed in skins, but had no plants about her waist.

“Mama,” said the girl, “Mother has finally come.”

The woman immediately knelt and smiled radiantly. “Welcome, Mother. I’m Nyra. Your visit is a long-anticipated honor. Please come inside and rest.”

The woman’s greeting puzzled Yim, but she smiled and bowed. “Karm sees your generosity and we’re grateful for your hospitality. But please call me Yim. My Sarf is Honus.”

“Oh, ‘Yim’ will na do, Mother. Lila insists on proper naming.”

“Lila?” said Yim.

“My daughter. She’s faerie-kissed.”

Yim understood the term as meaning “sunny-natured,” and she wasn’t sure it applied to the mysterious girl dressed in pelts and leaves. Nevertheless, she smiled pleasantly. “If it pleases you to call me such, then do.” Then she followed Nyra toward the hole at the base of the hillock, thinking it looked more like the entrance to an animal’s burrow than to a human dwelling. Before she crawled into the opening, Yim glanced back toward Honus. Lila stood behind him, gazing skyward. Yim looked upward also, and saw three large owls, each bearing something in its talons. They were swooping down toward the girl. Then Yim dropped to her hands and knees to crawl through the hole.

The short tunnel that Yim passed through sloped upward and was lined with wood that appeared smoothed by long use. It ended at a chamber that defied Yim’s expectations. Instead of squatting in an earthen burrow, she stood in a cozy room with a flagstone floor, wood-paneled walls, and a large stone fireplace. Light came not only from a fire in the hearth, but also from numerous windows. They were covered with some translucent mineral resembling glass. Glancing about, Yim saw that everything was made from plants or other natural materials. A large, flat stone served as a table. It was only knee-high, for there were no chairs or benches. Upon it were wooden plates and bowls, drinking vessels made from gourds, knives chipped from stone, and other utensils made of bone or wood. Lining the walls were
 large baskets filled with acorns, nuts, faerie arrow and fox sword tubers, dried mushrooms, and other foodstuffs, but nothing that looked like it had been cultivated. Also about the walls were several low openings to adjoining chambers.

An ancient-looking man rose from where he had been stirring a series of clay pots that sat in the hearth. “This is my husband, Fenric,” said Nyra. She turned to him. “Fenric, Mother has finally arrived.”

Fenric bowed low. Though what little hair he had was the same shade as Lila’s, he seemed far too old to be her father. His garb matched that of Averen men, being made of cloth. It seemed ancient and exceedingly worn.

Honus entered, and Yim was introducing him to Fenric when Lila crawled into the room. Along with her basket, she carried three freshly killed hares. Yim noted that they bore wounds from talons on their backs. The girl handed the hares to Fenric. “Here, Da. They’re for the feast.”

Fenric placed the hares on a board near the hearth and began to skin them using a flake of black, glassy stone. As he did so, Yim turned to Nyra. “You said I was expected.”

“Aye, Mother. Lila’s talked of little else since the end of winter.”

“But how would she know?”

“She speaks to the Old Ones by the lake, as I did afore Fenric came.”

“By the Old Ones, do you mean faeries?”

“Some call them that.”

“And they know of me?”

“For ages and ages.”

Yim felt as disconcerted as when the Seer had said that knowledge of her was “an old secret.” She noted that Honus seemed to have the same reaction, and she felt it wisest to speak of something else. “Well, it’s been ages and ages since I’ve eaten. Everything smells delicious. What’s cooking in those pots?”

“Acorn porridge with herbs and honey,” said Nyra,
 pointing to one pot. She gestured to the others in turn. “Summer stew, faerie arrow with garlic scapes, mushroom soup, and this is hot water.”

Lila gripped the rim of the water pot using scraps of pelts and emptied it into a wide crockery basin. Then she set the basin before a large rounded rock. “Sit here, Mother,” she said pointing to the rock. As Yim sat down, the girl tested the water’s temperature and added some of the leaves that hung from her waist. When she stirred them in, a fragrant mist arose. “Place your feet in the water,” said Lila, “and I’ll wash them.”

“I can do that for myself,” replied Yim.

“Please let me have that honor,” said Lila.