Dreams of Fire and Gods 2: Fire (19 page)

“I think that’s it,” Sael said, still lying on the ground. “I should have enough energy to get us across the chasm tonight.”

Impulsively, Koreh leaned down and kissed Sael on the mouth. They’d survived yet another brush with death, perhaps the last one that would see them both alive on the other side. It was a small victory, but one worth celebrating.

Not only was the Eye of Druma completely closed, but heavy clouds had moved in so that not a single star was visible in the sky. A strong wind blew upward from the pitch-black chasm, its hollow, forlorn moaning the only sound in the darkness.

One of the Taaweh had brought Sael and Koreh this far and then abandoned them, cautioning them to remain hidden in the shadows until one of the sentries went by and not to make any sound at all. So they huddled in the darkness, pressed up against one another for warmth in the cool night air and clasping hands tightly. Sael could see the enormous Pontu Wall to the south, cutting them off from the world he’d known all his life. He was intensely aware at this moment that Koreh was the only person in the world he had to rely on now. If something went wrong, Master Geilin, his father, the Taaweh— none of them could come to his rescue. It was just the two of them, no matter what happened.

Nothing much did happen for a very long time. The Taaweh had assured them there would be a sentry coming along the path at the edge of the chasm during the night. There was always a sentry. On most nights, there would be only one. After a thousand years, the Stronni no longer saw the need to guard the area heavily, and they relied upon the Eye of Druma to raise the alarm.

On the nights when the Eye was closed, there were two sentries spaced equidistant from one another. If Sael and Koreh waited until one of the sentries had passed, they would have the greatest amount of time possible for what they needed to do before the next sentry reached this spot.

As the hour of
Manduccot
drew near, Sael heard the sound of footsteps slowly plodding along the dirt-and-stone path. Koreh must have heard it too, because he quickly pressed a finger to Sael’s lips as if to silence him. That was irritating, since Sael hadn’t made a sound, but he was too frightened—and fascinated—by the man coming along the path to give Koreh’s overprotectiveness more than a passing thought.

The man striding toward them was enormous. Not corpulent, but muscular, and at least a head taller than any man Sael had ever seen. And he was completely naked. With his enhanced vision, Sael could see every muscle, every tendon, perfectly defined and rippling as the man walked. His every movement was smooth and graceful, filling Sael with awe. Here was Man, elevated to perfection, elevated to godhood—face flawlessly handsome, arms and legs and torso powerful and intensely erotic, genitals massive and perfectly formed. Sael hadn’t known it was possible for a man to be so beautiful that the mere sight of him would bring tears to the eyes. Yet here he was.

But of course this was no mortal man, Sael knew. He was looking at a god.

The Stronni’s head was cleanshaven, as was his jaw, and there were shimmering gold tattoos over much of his naked body from head to toe. The tattoos resembled the ones worn by
caedan
and
vönan
, but were much more elaborate and extensive.

Sael and Koreh remained absolutely motionless, not even daring to breathe as the Stronni walked by. It wasn’t until long after he’d gone out of sight that Koreh moved.

He took Sael by the hand and led him to the edge of the chasm, where they could look down into a darkness so deep not even their Taaweh vision could see the bottom. The wind blowing up from those depths was surprisingly cold as it brushed their faces and whipped their hair around their heads.

Sael shivered, not only from the chill of the wind, but also the thought of leaping out over that chasm and the terrifying possibility he might drop Koreh when he did so. That thought terrified him even more than the idea of them both falling short of the mark and plummeting into the chasm together. But he forced all that out of his mind, gripping his wooden staff firmly. It wouldn’t help them to focus on what could go wrong.

He looked up at the Great Hall sitting unsupported above the chasm, motionless, as if that were a perfectly natural place for a large building made out of stone. From here, Sael could make out little detail. It was simply a black silhouette in the gray sky. It seemed farther away than he’d expected, but it was hard to estimate the distance with nothing near it to give him a sense of the building’s true scale.

Koreh had brought a sort of harness with him, cobbled together from tightly knotted leather straps. He stepped into it with both legs so he was more or less sitting in it. And then he looped the remaining straps around Sael’s shoulders and fastened them together behind his back. This forced their hips together in a way that might have been erotic if Sael had been able to think of anything but whether or not he’d stored up enough energy to carry them up to the hall. And would he be able to get them back again?

It didn’t matter. He had to get them up there first. Then they could worry about the rest.

Once Koreh was secured to him, there was a brief moment when their eyes met. Sael could feel Koreh’s breath brush against his lips, as he looked deep into Koreh’s clear blue eyes and saw his own fear and determination reflected back at him. Then without a word, Koreh leaned close and they kissed, knowing it might be the last time.

Sael raised his staff over their heads and gripped it with both hands. Koreh wrapped his arms around Sael’s chest and held on tightly.

It was impossible to cast a spell as a
vönan
without chanting, but Sael kept his voice to a whisper as he closed his eyes and recited the incantation. Then suddenly they were jerked upward and out over the precipice.

It took all his concentration not to scream, or at the very least interrupt his chanting while they hurled out into space. Sael had never been so terrified. He’d never been particularly afraid of heights, but this was vastly different. He couldn’t even
see
the ground. They were arcing through the air above what seemed to be a black, bottomless pit, the edge of the chasm fading rapidly into the distance behind them.

He could tell Koreh was terrified too as he clung to Sael, his arms nearly crushing Sael’s chest in their tight grip. But Sael kept his eyes fixed on the hall floating above the void, not daring to look away for fear of losing his bearings in the darkness. If he missed the hall, he might not have enough energy left to reach the other side of the chasm. Certainly it was unlikely he’d be able to spend much time searching for the hall if he went too far astray.

As they approached the hall, Sael suddenly realized he was flying too fast. He’d been aiming for the doorway—a gaping black hole on the front of the building, devoid of doors since the Iinu Shavi had wrenched them off their hinges a thousand years ago. But he couldn’t slow them down in time to adjust his aim. They were about to slam into the stone face of the building, and he could visualize them bouncing off and losing control, tumbling down into the pit. So at the last moment, he lifted them upward.

They shot up and over the edge of the shale roof, but he’d miscalculated. Koreh’s feet were hanging lower than his were, and they struck the eave of the roof and “tripped” them. Koreh swore as he struck and slammed backward onto the slate, Sael sprawling forward on top of him. Instinctively Sael put his hands out to break his fall, scraping his palms on the stone. His staff bounced out of his hands and Sael watched in horror as it skittered down the sloping tiles and disappeared over the edge.

“You were supposed to aim for the door!” Koreh scolded, his angry voice muffled by the fact that his face was pressed into the tunic at Sael’s chest. There was little need for silence up here, since the Stronni didn’t post guards in the hall itself, or so the Taaweh had told them.

Sael knew a fully trained
vönan
could fly without a staff, but he’d always depended upon one and wasn’t sure if he could manage to get them down from here without it. But at the moment they had more pressing concerns, such as getting off the roof and inside the hall without the two of them plummeting to their deaths.

They were lying on the edge of a sloping rooftop as large as the courtyard in front of Harleh Keep, Koreh’s legs dangling off the roof from the knees down and Sael lying only slightly farther forward with Koreh’s face pressed into his chest. To Sael’s right, about fifty feet away, was the front right corner of the building. The slope wasn’t too treacherous, as long as they moved cautiously.

The corner of the roof had a statue of a winged naked man mounted on it, with wings outstretched as if he were about to take flight. It would provide a more secure handhold, certainly. Sael wasn’t sure if it would also provide a way down, but he didn’t have a better idea.

Working together, they cautiously edged sideways along the eave of the roof until they reached the statue. Clinging to it, they were able to find a position where both young men could sit up and look at their surroundings despite the leather straps that still held them together.

The view over the side was terrifying, showing nothing but a drop straight down into blackness. But the view towards the front was a bit more hopeful, if still frightening. There were steps leading up to the shattered door of the Great Hall, and these might provide a platform that Sael and Koreh could drop down onto, though the drop was formidable—at least thirty feet—and the steps hung precariously off the front of the building after having been ripped from the ground. Whether they would hold much weight remained to be seen.

Koreh ordered Sael, “Hold onto this thing,” indicating the stone statue at the roof’s corner, while he began to extricate them from the leather harness. Sael did as he was instructed, watching Koreh anxiously and picturing the strong winds that buffeted them knocking the young man off his perch.

Koreh left one of the loops intact, but undid some of the other knots so he could stretch the rest of the harness out into a long strip. Then he leaned over Sael’s lap and hooked the loop over the statue’s head and wings. It slipped down and settled in what looked like a secure position around the statue’s base. Koreh let the long leather strap fall. It swung freely in the wind, its end perhaps fifteen feet from the highest step. It would be possible to dangle from it and then drop down onto the steps without breaking their legs. The bigger danger was the fact that what remained of the steps wasn’t very broad, and they could easily land and tumble off it or miss it altogether. Or they might slip and fall straight down, where there was nothing at all to catch them.

They exchanged a grim look before Koreh climbed over Sael and began to lower himself down the strap. Sael watched the statue for any sign it might give way under the weight—not that Sael could do anything if that happened —but it appeared to be secure.

When Koreh was near the end of the strap, swinging gently back and forth. He dangled there for a while, sensing the angle and timing of his pendulum swing. Then in moment that nearly stopped Sael’s heart, Koreh let go.

He’d judged well and landed on one of the upper steps near the doorway. There was little room to roll when he landed, so he simply sprawled forward onto the stone. But he didn’t appear to be hurt. He pushed himself into a seated position and looked up at Sael, waiting.

Taking a breath to steady himself, Sael gripped the leather strap tightly in both hands and allowed himself to slip forward off the eave. He experienced a brief moment of panic as he fell about a foot before the strap went taut. He gave himself a moment to calm his heartbeat before beginning a cautious descent.

At the end of the strap with just a foot or so of it left, he held on tightly, doing as Koreh had done—sensing the way he was swinging. Whenever the arc of the swing took him out over dark nothingness, Sael could hear his breathing growing panicked, completely beyond his control. Even when he swung close to the doorway, the thought of letting go of the strap terrified him. But he could feel the muscles in his hands cramping up and knew he would eventually slip off, one way or the other, if he didn’t make the decision.

Finally, as he swung out over the chasm again, he resolved to let go on the next approach to the steps. He focused on his intended landing spot, and just before he sensed he would reach the end of the arc and start to swing back again, he let go.

He landed hard on the stone steps with one foot on a lower step than the other. He stumbled backward, realizing too late that he’d miscalculated. He tipped back on his heels, his hands flailing in the air for something to grab onto. But there was nothing.