Read The Northern Approach Online

Authors: Jim Galford

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Furry

The Northern Approach (52 page)

Estin closed his eyes and let himself go limp, an instinctual move that had spared him from far shorter falls over the years. Falling onto stone would likely not be so easy to survive he knew, but it was all he could do.

With a thud that knocked the wind from his lungs and bruised his whole body, Estin came down on what felt like a pile of leaves. Looking around, he saw a mass of soft leaf-covered vines had torn through the paving stones of the plaza and layered themselves right where he had landed.

“Are you all right?” asked Feanne, running to his side with her sword in one hand yet. She grabbed his arm and pulled him off the vines before he could answer, just seconds before the mists swept across the plants, withering them instantly.

“I’ll live,” he answered, trying to keep his balance as Feanne practically carried him toward On’esquin. “We need to run!”

Feanne turned and pressed her muzzle to his and hugged him before pushing him away again. “Don’t scare me like that!” she hissed, her face gradually becoming illuminated by the mists that had slowed to tear down the walls. “You know I need you, Estin!”

“You…you saved me,” Estin mumbled, trying to figure out what to say, digging his claws into the fur between Feanne’s neck and shoulder, trying to keep her from getting away. He could feel heat and cold getting close behind him as the mists neared. “I think we need to run.”

“Allow me,” On’esquin told them, slamming the butt of his spear into the gap between some of the paving stones to prop it up. “Get behind me and keep going. I’ve never tried this and I don’t like gambling with prophecies and lives.”

Estin grabbed Feanne’s wrist as she tried to go to On’esquin. Memories or not, she had not changed. She wanted to stand with those who were fighting a losing battle without concern for her own survival. He had to practically drag her away, pulling her as he ran up the stairs out of the amphitheater toward the road that circled the eastern part of the city. It was not until he reached the street that he finally slowed, allowing himself to look back.

The mists had torn away a hundred-foot section of the city walls and hung like a tidal wave, ready to crash over On’esquin, who was still standing atop the dais. He held his hands up toward the mists, somehow holding them back or confronting them.

“Just like Atall did,” Estin muttered and saw Feanne look sharply at him. There was no recognition in her eyes, but she seemed to understand she should know that name. “He can’t hold them forever.”

“He doesn’t need to, Estin. He needs to get out of there so we can run and find the others. I won’t leave him behind! I won’t leave any of you behind!”

Estin tightened his grip on Feanne’s wrist, but instead of trying to pull away, she shifted her hand to clasp his, their fingers intertwining. She had never been an affectionate female in public and this marked twice in minutes that she had been willing to show “weakness” where others could see. It meant something, but Estin had bigger concerns so long as On’esquin was in the path of those mists.

Tendrils of light drifted lazily from the mists toward On’esquin’s hands. They were not the hazy cloudlike extensions of the mist that it used like hands to strike at things in its path, but rather it looked to Estin as though On’esquin was pulling something from the cloud.

Shifting his vision to see spirits and magic, Estin saw he was right. On’esquin was literally ripping magic from the cloud and pulling it into himself. Anywhere the magic was yanked free of the mists, he could see the glowing cloud dissipate slightly, and On’esquin only seemed to grow stronger. Soon the cloud itself stopped advancing and Estin could see it was struggling like a trapped animal, trying to wrest itself free of On’esquin’s grip and pull away.

With a shrieking sound that forced Estin and Feanne to clamp their hands over their ears, the mists recoiled and fled back over the walls, racing away faster than a horse could. Despite that, On’esquin remained at the foot of the ruined walls, his hands still held up and the air around him wavering the way it would over hot stones.

“On’esquin!” shouted Feanne, picking up her sword. She eyed it oddly for a moment before passing it to Estin. “Are you all right?”

On’esquin lowered his hands and turned slowly toward them. Brilliant yellow light beamed from his eyes like a lighthouse, sweeping toward the two wildlings. “Get…down!” the orc screamed.

Estin barely managed to grab Feanne’s arm and pull her off her feet before an explosion rocked the plaza. Light and heat burst from On’esquin’s eyes, outstretched hands, and even his mouth as he screamed at the sky. Waves of flame crashed over the area, singeing Estin’s clothing and washing out his vision. Praying they were far enough away, he threw himself over top of Feanne to shield her from the ongoing flames.

Soon the explosions ended, and Estin tentatively crawled off of Feanne, his skin raw and tender from the heat.

To his amazement, she looked up at him with wide eyes, whispering, “Thank you.”

Turning to look into the amphitheater, Estin had trouble picking anything out in the dark, especially with the dark spots floating in his vision. It took him a moment to be sure that anything moving there was not part of the blurred spots, but he soon spotted On’esquin lying on the ground, struggling to stand, surrounded by a burned-out crater that had once been the dais.

“He’s hurt!” Feanne exclaimed, apparently seeing him about the same time as Estin. “Move!” Feanne hopped to her feet and gave Estin one sharp tug to get him moving and then took off. She was far faster than Estin, her bare paws somehow managing to avoid the myriad bodies Estin had to constantly jump or move around. In seconds she had reached On’esquin’s side, while Estin was still a good twenty feet out.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” muttered On’esquin as Feanne slid to his side on her knees. He pulled himself upright, pressing a hand to his head. “Estin?”

“Here!” Estin answered, finally reaching the two of them. “What can I do?”

Chuckling, On’esquin replied, “Two thousand years and I’ve never tried something so stupid. The living have a way of getting into my head, thanks to my curse. Raeln has been my anchor for some time now. A few hours alone with you and I try to eat a mist cloud. I can definitively say that you are both lucky and stupid, Estin. Change the way you think or I might well learn what can kill me.”

Estin was unsure whether to laugh or feel embarrassed, but when he saw Feanne grinning at him knowingly, he froze, unsure what she might be thinking. That look in her eye had meant something very specific, once. She would have been about to call him a fool...

“He is a fool sometimes,” she confessed to On’esquin, her tone suddenly more formal and regal.

The way she spoke changed in that second to the way Estin remembered from days long past. Even On’esquin seemed to recognize the change and gave her a sidelong glance.

“We should go and meet the others before they think we got ourselves killed,” On’esquin told them after a moment, accepting Feanne’s offer to help him up. “See if you can find our horse. I want out of this city before the mists come back.”

Estin tried to pay attention, but he could not help but watch Feanne to see if there was some memory coming to light. She refused to meet his eyes, instead looking anywhere else at all. When he tried to impose himself in her line of sight, she went so far as to walk away, muttering something about finding their runaway horse. He watched as she hurried off, glancing back at him just before she reached the street.

“She has her magic back,” Estin said once Feanne was out of sight.

On’esquin nodded and ran his fingers over the chain on his wrist. “I doubt she understands why or how she did it. It’s good progress, but she looks scared, if you ask me. How would you feel if you learned by accident that you had magic?”

Estin glanced down at the chain on On’esquin’s wrist and then at the pouch on his belt where he had placed the coin he had taken from the elven woman. “Do we throw those away before the mists come again?” he asked.

Shrugging, On’esquin tightened the chain. “They may come in handy. For now, help your wife find the horse,” On’esquin told him. Checking the sky, he added, “The mists are wounded, for lack of a better word. We need to leave, and I intend to do so with every relic of Turess we’ve found.”

“Is that wise?”

“Not at all. It does give us power, though. Turess enchanted these for a reason, and I will not give them up. Dorralt fears the mists as much as we do, which I would use to our advantage. I believe we have days or weeks before the mists return, and until then, Dorralt will wonder why the mists are avoiding us. When they return, perhaps we can use them against him.”

Estin took the coin from his pouch and debated throwing it away.

Before he could do anything further, On’esquin grabbed his hand and closed it over the coin. “Keep it for now,” On’esquin insisted. “Turess told me to find these. Who knows what secrets they may hold?”

“Meaning what, exactly?” demanded Estin.

“Meaning that if you want your wife to know who you are again, we will hold on to every morsel of magic that might give us an advantage until such time as I can decipher the magic on them. Agreed?”

Estin squeezed the coin until it bit into his skin painfully while watching the street where Feanne had gone. “Agreed,” he said eventually. “Mists or not, if you think there’s even a chance that we can save her with these, I’ll carry them to the day I die.”

“Careful what you wish for, Estin. You nearly died today. Don’t gamble on how long your fate’s path continues. I have met the gods and they are a fickle sort when it comes to our survival.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Into the North”

 

I see one of my heirs now become something I cannot accept. She is filled with hate that is not her own and seeks to quench it with blood. This one will be a thorn in the side of many, unable to accept her failures.

Desperation gives those willing to do anything far more power than those who have something to lose.

Four wheels…a wall…a tree…words from my hand…the visions all blur now. I fear there is not long left, my friend, and little more I can tell you that will not make matters more difficult to understand. Forgive me and let me rest.

 

Scribbled note: As Turess fell asleep, I could only make out a mumbled name. Lirith? Liris? I cannot be sure. We may never know.

 

-
         
Excerpt from the lost prophecies of Turess

 

Raeln lay on his bedroll the night after they had left the burned-out city, staring off toward the south. He had seen the mists twice as the wagon raced north as fast as the horses would take them, but not once since they had stopped. It seemed almost as though the mists were following at a distance, blocking off any route southward.

The horses were half-dead after pushing them for nearly the full day. The people were nearly as bad off and he blamed that on himself for having given the order to explore the city. They had needed the supplies, but if he was truly leading them, the responsibility for the mistake fell on his shoulders.

On’esquin had been in and out of sleep for almost twelve hours. From what Raeln had heard Estin saying, the man had more than earned a long rest. Even from the far side of the city, Raeln had seen the column of light and the receding glow of the mists. The explosion had shaken most of the city.

“Stop it,” ordered Dalania, sitting beside him. She had been so quiet with her chin on her knees, staring off at the deeper woods west of them, that he had forgotten she was even there. The others had situated themselves closer to the fire, enjoying the scraps of food they had collected, but Dalania had stayed with Raeln.

“Stop what?” he asked without taking his eyes off the horizon.

“Stop beating up on yourself for what happened back there,” she explained. “A leader cannot spend all their time worrying about mistakes. They can only move forward, learning from them.”

Raeln snorted and shifted to stare at the woman. She sat closer than he had really expected of her. After the last few weeks of travel, he had come to expect her to keep a healthy distance from him and the other men. During the trip through the ruined city, she had stayed at his side out of fear and now seemed to be mostly over her concerns about being near him. “Did you ever think that I’m not the leader they need?”

Dalania smiled pleasantly and reached over to brush a clump of dirt out of Raeln’s fur. “I would not consider that for a moment,” she admitted. “None of these people is in any shape to lead…I can attest to being no better. Our baggage makes us weak, and without a purpose in life, we would run to the ends of the world to flee our past. You grow stronger with adversity, and when it matters, you step up to give direction. You are our leader and were since long before it was put to words.”

Sighing, Raeln flopped down on the ground, staring up at the half moon that was a hair above the trees. “I’ve lost everyone I was supposed to protect,” Raeln said, immediately feeling the disapproval in her gaze. In that she reminded him of his mother, Asha. “My sister died when I was supposed to be with her. My mother and father died to the Turessians because I was off with Greth. Greth died to the Turessians because I was off trying to find a way to protect my sister. When it matters, I’m never where I need to be.”

“Then we stay together as a group from now on,” she replied quickly. “Would you listen to me for a while?”

“Of course.”

“My father was just like you, Raeln. Strong and stubborn, willing to risk his life to protect anyone. He died fighting an orcish raiding party at our farm southwest of Altis. I watched them put his body on a pike and burn the farm. Do you believe that I fault him for where I ended up? Do you believe that I think it was his lack of foresight that caused our friends to die in the attack? Most importantly, do I have any reason to regard him as less of a man for dying to protect others?”

“I…”

“You are listening to me, remember? These are rhetorical questions.”

“Sorry.”

Smiling with amusement that hinted at her intention to chide him from the start, Dalania went on. “People die, Raeln. Risks occur every day. I now travel with a group of men I hardly know, despite my fears. I travel with an orc that I would trust my life to, despite what I have seen from his kind. We must put our rational minds above the fears in our hearts and rely on one another.

“At this point, I consider you my brother and friend, Raeln. I’ve never had either of my own, but I know Ilarra was a lucky woman to have you watching out for her. I also know you will protect me, even if I were to shun your protection. I am happy to follow you to the ends of the world, because you are the only family I have left, and I believe that you see us all as children that need your protection. Nurture this and we can stand against anything.”

“Even the full might of the Turessians with no army to back us?”

“We are never alone as long as anyone in this group still draws breath. We are a family and we will pull each other through this. If we die in Turessi, I will still count our journey as a success.”

“How? We have to stop them—”

“No, Raeln. We do not. We need to try. Look around at this group and tell me that we have not already overcome all that Eldvar can throw at us. Feanne has died and been brought back by the love of her life. On’esquin has twisted the darkness of Dorralt and the Turessians to help humanity. Estin has learned to trust someone other than Feanne, despite what he might say of any of you. Even Yoska finds peace in the journey, which he considers his last, regardless of what the end holds for us.”

“And you?”

The fae-kin woman smiled. “I found someone to call a brother. I found people who have no reason to hurt me and honestly have my best interests in mind. Before following you, I had believed that my life would go on alone in the wilds, the only place where I could not be hurt out of malice. Now, I am willing to walk into a war with peace in my heart and the woods I intended to hide in traveling with me in my mind.”

Raeln started to argue, to tell her they were all doomed if they kept on, but Dalania held a finger to her lips. A second later Raeln heard soft footsteps and realized Feanne had snuck up to them, getting almost beside Dalania before she was visible in the woods. How she managed to move so quietly in her ill-fitting clothing, Raeln could not guess.

“Is all well?” Dalania asked Feanne, smiling up at her.

“It is, but I must ask for some time alone with Raeln.”

Dalania’s smile faded immediately and she gave Raeln a worried glance. She pointedly looked over to where Estin was settling onto his own bedroll, closer to the fire, then back at Raeln.

“Leave us, Dalania,” Feanne insisted, her tone sounding dangerous even to Raeln.

Dalania seemed to pick up on that, too, and hurriedly walked away, glancing back repeatedly. Her expression warned Raeln that he was in danger, something he hardly needed reminding of. Once she was far behind Feanne, Dalania even went so far as to point at Estin and then at Raeln, drawing a finger across her throat. He certainly did not need reminding that Estin would kill him—or try to—if he touched Feanne.

“What do you need?” Raeln asked, making a point of pulling his blanket over himself. He wanted to give her no excuse or easy way to grope him again. That had been unpleasant and he had no desire to repeat it. “We all should be resting before we ride again.”

Feanne nodded and knelt beside him, though she did not try to touch him or get under the blanket. “I am afraid I must apologize,” she said after a minute’s silence. “You have been very clear in your feelings and I disregarded them.”

Raeln sat up, honestly surprised Feanne would say that. Even more, he wondered at her change of tone. There was something regal in the way she carried herself and spoke now. “Does this mean I get to sleep without fear of being mauled?” he asked jovially, trying to lighten her mood, but Feanne stared at him with a calm that crushed his attempt at humor.

“I do not know what I feel,” she admitted, absently rubbing at her stomach, where Raeln had seen several deep claw-scars when he had been fitting her for clothing. Those scars had caught his attention, making him wonder how she had managed to survive being disemboweled, but he was fairly certain he knew the answer…and the answer was sleeping over by the fire.

“Then why come over?” he asked, when Feanne had said nothing for a while.

Smirking, she replied, “I know I do not want anything more from you than a friendship and the kinship that comes between warriors. I will fight at your side, not over your bed. If you were playing difficult, you have overplayed your hand. I will not pursue you further.”

Raeln glanced back over at the fire pit, where Estin rested lazily. The man had normally been anxious and watchful when Feanne came over to Raeln in the night. The change in his demeanor could well have meant as much as Feanne’s. “You have another interest, then?” he asked. “Or are you keeping your mind on the mission?”

“A female can keep her mind on more than one thing, unlike males, it would seem,” Feanne answered quickly, giving him a coy smile that let him know she was joking. “I am learning a respect for someone. That may not be anything more, but it is enough for me. I will stop acting like a child and take what comes of it, for better or worse. I believe I had to relearn a few lessons that I had learned already once in my past.”

“He’ll appreciate knowing you respect him.”

Feanne nodded and put a hand on Raeln’s chest. “You have my truest apologies for pushing my interests against your wishes,” she reiterated before standing up. “Sleep well. I will send Dalania back over to keep watch over you. I fear that without a female nearby, any of you males will get yourselves killed within a day.”

Raeln chuckled as Feanne walked away. He watched her go straight to Dalania, where she stopped and whispered with the other woman a while. In the end Dalania gave Feanne a hug and then came back over to Raeln.

“Ask nothing,” Dalania warned him as she came over. Settling onto the blanket beside him, she closed her eyes. “I was told to keep you safe. I expect you to do the same for me.”

Raeln agreed and looked back to Feanne, to see whether his suspicions were right. Sure enough, she went over to Estin, standing behind him where he could not see while sleeping on his side. After a moment, she clenched her hands and moved several feet away, laying out her own bedroll. In the dying light of the fire, he could easily see her eyes gleaming as she watched Estin sleep.

 

*

 

“That, my friends, is where most journeys end,” Yoska announced three days later, as the sun scorched them. Despite the heat of the sunlight, the air was bitter, a contrast Raeln was having trouble adjusting to.

Like all the others, except Yoska and somewhat On’esquin, Raeln stared in awe at what lay before them. He had expected a lot of things, but he had finally begun to realize he had no idea what to expect in the world beyond the lands he had been raised in.

A vast bowl-shaped depression in the land ahead allowed him to see for miles. The road led right down into that region, where it vanished among swamps that filled much of the lowland. Around part of that area, sheer stone walls rose a hundred feet or better, creating a natural barrier across much of the northern side. Roads similar to the one they traveled on came into the swamplands, forcing all travelers to brave the swamps and then approach the walls if they wished to continue north without circling days or weeks out of their way.

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