Silent Hall (14 page)

P
haedra and Criton
spent the next two weeks trying to read their way through Psander's library while Narky and Bandu grew increasingly impatient. Hunter was sympathetic to both parties. It wasn't exactly pleasant here since they'd returned with the Gallant Ones. The villagers no longer trusted them. As for the library, Psander had collected more books than could be read in a decade – an incomparable treasure for Phaedra, but Bandu and Narky were illiterate.

He supposed he'd prefer to leave, but his personal feelings on the matter were not strong. What did it matter whether they stayed or not? It all struck him as meaningless.

They seemed to be stuck in stasis, at least as far as Hunter could tell, but after two weeks, Bandu and Narky prevailed. Neither Psander nor her books apparently held any clue as to which God had cursed Tarphae, and the readers had yet to uncover any new information about dragons. Criton's enthusiasm had begun to flag.

“We've got to get out of here,” Narky insisted. “If we stay any longer, I'm going to go insane. The villagers hate us. Psander doesn't care where we go, so long as we're useful. Isn't there any other place that interests you?”

Phaedra sighed. “We could go to Anardis,” she suggested.

“What's in Anardis?” Criton asked.

“The central temple of Elkinar. The priests of Elkinar are supposed to be the best healers in the world. Psander said they might still have some academic texts on healing magic from before the purge.”

Criton frowned. “Is Anardis close to Ardis?”

“Yes,” Hunter told him. “The region is called Hagardis, and the two cities used to be rivals for supremacy there. Then there was a war, and Anardis lost, so now its king has to pay a tribute to Ardis every year.”

Criton didn't say anything to that, but he didn't have to. “Psander gave us a whole list of other things she needed,” Narky pointed out. “If you insist on helping her, we can look for some of those.”

“I don't know how we'd find half of those things,” Phaedra said. “Tangletwine leaves? Blueglow mushrooms? And I think calardium ore comes from up in the mountains somewhere.”

“We
could
go to the mountains,” Criton said. “Ma always said the dragons lived in the mountains.”

Bandu nodded her agreement. “Mountains are good. If we go to city, we are always in rooms. Outside is better.”

Phaedra turned to Hunter. “Well, what do you think?”

“I say we stay away from Magor's territory as much as we can,” Narky said.

“I was asking Hunter,” Phaedra scolded.

Hunter hated having everyone look at him like that, expecting him to say something intelligent. “I guess three of us already want to go to the mountains,” he said.

Phaedra looked disappointed. Maybe she had expected him to say something else, but what could he do? He didn't really want to go anywhere right now. He just wanted to sharpen his sword and think.

“We can go to Elkinar's temple afterwards,” he said hurriedly, but the damage was done.

They found Psander in her library, switching her gaze back and forth between a codex and two scrolls, like a child watching her parents fight.

“Did you say you needed calardium ore from the mountains?” Criton asked her.

Psander did not even look up. “I did,” she said. “This mountain range near us is called the Calardian Range, you know. There are pockets of the ore throughout it. The mountain men use calardium in their fire pits and take it with them on journeys. It radiates heat, which is why some call it dragonstone. If you find a way to obtain some calardium, I will gladly pay you for your troubles. And, of course, you are welcome to anything you need for your journey.”

So they left Silent Hall, just like that. The journey went smoothly for a time, which cheered up everyone but Hunter. Nothing much
could
cheer him up, he supposed. The others had their share of wanderlust, but traveling only reminded Hunter that he was homeless. What good were a people without a homeland? They were no better than the Gallant Ones.

Criton and Bandu spent much of their time walking together now. They seemed to be finally taking Narky's advice about practicing their magic, because they spent some hours walking beside the packhorse while Bandu carried on a conversation with it. Narky joined them for this, looking fascinated. Criton did not look happy about Narky's presence, but Bandu didn't seem to mind him at all.

Phaedra was the one who really liked to travel. She had quickly recovered from the disappointment of not seeing Anardis and was now walking ahead of the others, tromping along with her eyes raised to the mountains. Hunter joined her at the front of the pack, mostly so that he could give Criton and Bandu their privacy. The only trouble with that was that Phaedra expected far more conversation than Hunter was used to providing.

“I'm glad we're moving again,” she said at one point. “Bandu has a point about the outdoors. It can be stifling in Silent Hall.”

Hunter nodded. “Must be hell for Psander,” he said.

“Definitely,” said Phaedra. “Although,” she added, “if you had to be imprisoned somewhere, Psander's library wouldn't be a bad choice.”

“You'd need a ladder though,” Hunter said, and Phaedra laughed.

It took them two weeks on foot to reach the edge of the mountains, traveling due west. There were many small villages across the plain, and, no matter which way the wind blew, the air was thick with the smell of cow manure.

“We're going to want to buy furs before we go up,” Narky pointed out. “People freeze to death in the mountains, at least according to my pa.”

By the time they had bought warm clothes for everyone, Hunter's funds were beginning to run low. They should have asked Psander for money, he realized. The precious stones that Father had given him would fetch a much better price in a city, and nobody disputed Narky's contention that they should hold out for the best price.

“Don't worry,” Phaedra said. “I have plenty of money too. You just wouldn't know it because Hunter's always paying for everything.”

Hunter shrugged. “I don't mind paying.”

The fur traders had suggested a path that led to a few mountain villages, and, following the traders' directions, they soon found the path and began their climb. It was not too treacherous, at least at first. The wind blew more strongly up here, but that was tolerable for now. They passed a carob tree, much to Bandu's excitement, and she spent the rest of the climb chewing on the sweet brown pods and spitting out the seeds. The path continued steadily upwards for about a mile before leveling off and beginning to wind its way onward, sloping sometimes up and sometimes down. The trees obscured their view most of the time, until suddenly they would come upon a place where the vegetation was sparse and the glory of the Calardian range opened up before them. These were the places where they would rest, gazing down in wonder.

Huge was the only way Hunter could describe it. Until he saw it from a mountain, he had had no concept of just how very big the world really was. Atuna, the greatest city in the known world, could have disappeared into the vastness of the Calardian range without their even being able to spot it. Its bustling streets would have appeared as tiny cracks in the earth. Hunter took in the views while the others ate. The cliffs were so sheer, and the ground so far below. Some perverse part of him wanted to jump.

They continued their climb, worried that they might fail to find shelter before nightfall. Phaedra was getting further and further ahead, and Hunter hurried to catch up. He felt a little dizzy. It was probably from staring downwards for too long. He could not catch up to Phaedra like this, and he called out to her. Then he fell.

The earth was moving, shaking, spinning. It was horrible. There were voices – the others asking him what was wrong, and whether he was all right. He was not all right. The mountain was trying to throw him off!

“Hunter,” Phaedra's voice was saying. “Hunter, what happened?”

He was extremely light-headed, and his eyes wouldn't focus. “I want to go home,” he told her.

Narky was rummaging through Hunter's supplies. “All his food is still here,” he said. “His water skin's almost full!”

“Oh, Hunter!” Phaedra exclaimed.

“Drink this,” Narky said.

He drank. The mountain was slowing down.

“Hunter,” Phaedra said, “why haven't you been eating anything?”

Why were they bothering him? “Not hungry,” he mumbled. “I don't want to be here, I want to go home.”

“There is no home,” Narky said. “You can't go back.”

Hunter shook his head. It felt too heavy for his neck. “I should have stayed. I never wanted to go anywhere to begin with.”

“Too much talking,” Bandu said. “Drink more water.”

After they had forced some more water down his throat, they helped him to sit up and feed himself.

“I don't understand,” Phaedra said. “Why didn't you eat when we were all eating?”

Hunter closed his eyes. “I wasn't hungry. I didn't think it was important.”

Phaedra wouldn't let it go. “Why? Did you think you could just starve yourself?”

“It's not important!” Hunter said, his voice rising, then giving way to a groan as the world threatened to spin again. He closed his eyes once more. “What are we even doing here? Why are we still alive? It's pointless.”

“That's not true,” Phaedra said. “We're here for a reason, Hunter. The Gods sent your father to that oracle. They sent me on my pilgrimage. They've even marked Narky, for Karassa's sake! We're part of something. Psander knows it too; that's why she wants us working for her.”

Hunter opened his eyes. “You think the Gods have plans for us?”

Narky looked skeptical. “I don't see it, Phaedra. Anyone can go visit an oracle, and Ravennis' interest in me… is accounted for. Besides, if the Gods have plans for us, how come They're not giving us any guidance? It seems to me like we're wandering aimlessly, doing jobs for Psander until we find something better to do.”

“But that's how it is for heroes!” Criton objected. “The hero in a story never leaves home on a quest. He finds the quest after he's already left. In my ma's stories–”

“This isn't one of your ma's stories, though,” Narky interrupted.

“The Gods probably
do
have plans for us,” Criton insisted. “Phaedra's right. It's just that They haven't revealed what they are yet. When we find our destiny, we'll probably look back at these moments and think, ‘of
course
we had to go there.' When the Gods have plans for you, They don't just tell you about them.”

Phaedra took up Hunter's pack and handed it to him. “They wouldn't let us separate when we left Crossroads, and then They brought us to Psander. Have faith, Hunter.”

Hunter sat up straight, and took the pack from her hands. He felt suddenly ravenous.

When he had finished eating and was feeling better, they took his armor off and added it to the packhorse's load. He felt clear-headed now, but still walked the rest of the way with the others crowded around in case he fainted again. It was extremely embarrassing. To make matters worse, his collapse and recovery had taken up precious climbing time. Sunset was likely no more than an hour or two away, and there was still no village to be seen anywhere.

“Come on,” Narky said. “Hurry! If we don't get there soon, and the sun goes down–”

“We're almost there,” Phaedra said, pointing to a sawed-off tree trunk a little further up the path. If someone nearby was chopping trees, a town couldn't be far.

Sure enough, they reached a village just as the sun was setting, its last yellow rays stinging their eyes before retreating behind a lofty peak. The village was just a tiny hamlet really, some eight or nine houses crowded together in a shallow dip between peaks. Still, it would do nicely. All they needed was a place to shelter from the bitter wind.

A group of villagers, or perhaps the whole village, was gathered around a fire pit in the center of their little town. They looked up as the islanders approached, and Hunter noticed that the men all wore hatchets on their belts. They gripped these, staring at the approaching party. Hunter suspected that, living so far from the sea, these folk had never seen dark skin before. Did they even know that the archipelago existed?

Hunter spread his arms, leaving his sword at his side. He wouldn't be able to fight them all off anyway, certainly not after his fainting spell. “We are only travelers,” he said, trying to seem friendly and disarming. His brother Kataras would have done this better.

The mountain folk said nothing, but their children crowded around them in fear. They all looked remarkably alike, with light hair and strong cheekbones. All one family, Hunter thought. Finally, an elder spoke. His beard might have been fully gray, though it was hard to tell by only the firelight and the pink glow of the western sky.

“Come where we can see you,” he said.

The Tarphaeans approached cautiously. When the villagers saw that there were only five of them, two of them girls, they relaxed somewhat. The elder, who must have been the village patriarch, said, “Where do you come from?”

“Tarphae,” Hunter said, while Phaedra said, “The sea.”

“And what are you wanting?”

Phaedra took command. “Shelter,” she said. “Our island is warm, and the wind does not blow so hard there.”

There was a ripple of laughter among the villagers. “The wind is low today,” one of them said.

At least the mountain folk's laughter drained some of the tension from the meeting. “Come sit with us,” their patriarch said. His voice was welcoming, but Hunter sensed danger behind his eyes. “May Caladoris bless you. What brings seafolk to the mountains?”