Guardians of the Lost (48 page)

“Yes, I would like that,” said Raven. “But I am to go off with that…thing. His bodyguard.” He could not repress a shudder.

“K'let has many bodyguards,” said Dur-zor off-handedly. “You will serve him only when he chooses to send for you. I hope that doesn't disappoint you?”

Raven breathed a sigh of relief. “No,” he said heartily. “Not in the least. Did all the warriors decide to go with K'let?”

“Some of the young warriors did not agree. Dag-ruk told them they could leave, but they could take nothing with them, not even their weapons. And so they left with nothing. Their way will be hard, for as cast-outs they will not be readily accepted by other tribes.”

They are alone in a strange land, Raven thought to himself. With no clear idea of where they are or how to return to what they had once been. And maybe there is no return. Certainly not now. Perhaps not ever.

“Raven,” said Dur-zor softly, akin to his thoughts, “you are free. You can escape if you want to. You must not consider yourself bound to stay here because of me.”

Dur-zor's gaze went to the fire, to the taan, who were stomping their feet and leaping into the air, to the half-taan, who were bringing the taan food and drink, minding the taan children, assisting the taskers.

“I could not imagine being a cast-out, leaving my people,” she continued quietly. “That must seem strange to you, considering how we are treated.”

No, it didn't. Not right now. Not at this moment. This moment was what mattered. None of those before, none of those that might come after.

Reaching out, Raven took hold of Dur-zor's hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Why do you do that?” Dur-zor asked, puzzled.

Raven smiled. “Among humans, that is a sign of friendship, of affection.”

Dur-zor's forehead crinkled.

“Affection. Another word I don't know. What does it mean?”

Raven glanced over his shoulder, back into the grove of trees. “Come with me,” he said, taking her in his arms, “and I will teach you the definition.”

“H
ow close are we now?” Ranessa demanded. “Do we have to go through another of those tunnels?”

“Be patient, Girl,” Wolfram returned irritably. “We're a damn sight closer than we were a month ago and a whole heck of a lot closer than any other two-legged beast would be at this moment due to these very ‘tunnels' as you call them. Their true names are Portals and you should be grateful to them instead of spitting on them.”

“I did not spit on a Portal,” Ranessa stated.

“You spit on the floor in front,” Wolfram stated accusingly. “It's the same thing. A fine time I'll have explaining that away to the monks.”

“They won't know!” she scoffed. “How could they?”

“They have ways,” Wolfram muttered, rubbing the bracelet on his arm.

Ranessa looked a bit daunted. Following their successful escape from Karfa 'Len, Wolfram had spent much of their journey telling her about the monks of Dragon Mountain. He laid heavy emphasis on the monks' mysterious ways, their magical powers. He told her
of the five dragons who guarded the mountain, a dragon for each of the four elements: earth, air, fire and water, and a dragon for the Void, the absence of all. He told her of the monastery in which the monks lived and of the library where the bodies of the monks were laid to rest and of how scholars came to study at the monastery and nobles and peasants came with questions and how the monks treated all as equals, gave every question serious consideration.

Wolfram told Ranessa that he worked for the monks, that he was a “purveyor of information” as he was fond of terming it. He had to do this, in order to explain how he came to know about the existence of these Portals and how he and other “purveyors” like him were the only ones who could enter them. If he embellished the truth a bit (describing the monks as such exalted and awful people that the gods themselves might have been leery of approaching them), Wolfram considered these fabrications necessary. First, he hoped that Ranessa might reconsider and decide to forgo the experience and second, if she persisted in her determination to travel to the mountain, he planned to impress upon the unpredictable female the need to behave herself, speak respectfully, and act with decorum.

A lesser man would have given up, but Wolfram continued to have hope.

“This is the last Portal we go through,” he added testily, “if that's any comfort.”

“It is,” she said.

“I don't know what you don't like about them,” Wolfram grumbled. “Many people find traveling through them to be quite soothing.”

“I am
not
many people,” Ranessa returned.

“There's a true statement,” Wolfram said beneath his breath.

“You're always muttering. I can't stand it when you do that. What's the matter now? Have you lost the Portal?”

“No, I haven't lost it,” Wolfram retorted, although, in truth, the entrance to the Portal was not where he thought it should be.

They had made their way across Karnu, covering over one thousand miles in a month. Once they left Karfa 'Len, their journey had been uneventful, for which Wolfram was grateful. They had avoided
the southern part of Karnu, said to be overrun by horrible monsters who were trying to seize the Portal. Wolfram's secret Portal had saved them the perilous journey through the Salud Da-nek Mountains. Two weeks' hard riding had brought them to yet another secret Portal that had taken them to the Deverel river—the border between Karnu and New Vinnengael. During that time, they had seen not another living soul. Ranessa no longer had the feeling that they were being followed. The Vrykyl had given up the pursuit seemingly. Wolfram was thankful, but he couldn't help wondering why.

It was this second Portal that Ranessa had spit upon, drawing down Wolfram's ire. After crossing the Deverel river, they traveled another week through the forests of New Vinnengael, hugging the river bank, making their way south. Wolfram searched for the third and final Portal that would carry them to Dragon Mountain.

During this same time, Ranessa's brother Raven traveled with the taan and it was on the day previous to this one that he slew Qu-tok. Ranessa's nephew Jessan and his companions spent this morning journeying to the Tromek Portal in company with Damra. Not that Ranessa was thinking of either her brother or nephew. She had left them behind on the shore of her life, and as her journey carried her forward, they grew smaller and smaller, receding in the distance until now she could no longer see them.

In her thoughts and in her dreams loomed a mountain, Dragon Mountain. She saw it as a formidable jagged peak, dark and mysterious, silhouetted against the dawn of a purple and gilt-edged sunrise. Every morning she woke expecting to see this vision, and every morning she was disappointed. Bitterly disappointed. Ranessa was always in a bad mood in the mornings.

Dismounting, Wolfram walked through the forest, searching for the Portal. He had never been inside this one and he went over in his mind the directions the monks had given him. At a sharp bend in the Deverel river, he was to look for the black and white striped rock. Finding the rock, he walked five hundred paces due east as the crow flies to the cave with the pictures. That morning, they had reached a sharp bend in the river and there was the black and white rock—a gigantic boulder that stood on the shoreline.

Wolfram walked off five hundred paces, counting out loud or trying to, for he had to continually stop to tell Ranessa to shut up, her rambling talk distracted him. Trust the girl to travel in sullen silence for a week and then decide to talk the one time he didn't want her to. He was almost sure that due to her chatter, he had miscounted, and then there was the fact that he could never remember whether monk paces meant dwarf-sized paces or human-sized paces.

He came to a halt. This was the place, but where was the cave? He stumbled among the trees, pawed through the brush, prying and poking. The monks said that the entrance was hidden behind a stand of birch and he had yet to come across any birch trees.

Ranessa followed after him, holding onto the horses. At least, after all these weeks together, he had finally taught her how to ride so that she wasn't an embarrassment to him. The horses had come to tolerate her, if they didn't much like her. She had spent the last half-hour complaining loudly and bitterly about this aimless wandering and Wolfram, already on edge, was seriously considering braining her with a tree branch, when he lost his footing and fell flat on his face in a mud puddle.

Laughter rang out from behind him. This was the first occasion on which Wolfram had ever heard Ranessa laugh and at any other time he would have said she had agreeable laughter, deep and throaty. This time, since the laughter was at his expense, it only increased his ire. Lifting his head, he was about to wither Ranessa with a scathing comment, when he saw the entrance to the Portal right in front of him.

No one had used it in a long while, seemingly, for the entrance was so overgrown with brush and scrub trees that if he hadn't fallen on its doorstoop, so to speak, he might have never found it.

Wolfram clambered to his feet, wiped mud from his face.

“Bring the horses,” he ordered. He'd spotted a nearby stream.

“Where now?” Ranessa demanded.

“I'm going to have a bath. And it wouldn't hurt you to have one either. You stink.”

“So do the horses and you don't make them take a bath.”

“That's different,” said Wolfram. “That's a horsey smell. A good smell. You smell of…of…” He couldn't think what she smelled like. The smell wasn't unpleasant, not like some humans. It was unsettling. “Smoke,” he said at last. “You smell of smoke.”

She laughed again, but now her laughter was scoffing. “Next time we build a fire we should be certain to first wash the wood.”

“Why won't you take a bath?” Wolfram demanded, rounding on her.

She glowered at him, then said in a low voice, “There is an ugly mark on my body. When I was little, the others pointed at it and shamed me. They said the mark was the gods' curse. Since then—But why do I bother? You wouldn't understand.”

About shame and the gods' curse? “Oddly enough, Girl,” said Wolfram gruffly, “I think I do. Bring the horses. They could use the water.”

“Then we will look for the Portal,” she said.

“Oh, that,” said Wolfram nonchalantly. “I found it already. Back there.” He waved his hand.

Ranessa stared at him, too stunned to speak.

Wolfram was pleased with himself. He'd finally gotten in the last word.

 

The journey through the Portal took some time, for it was a long one. Ranessa disliked the trip, but she kept quiet and did not complain. The magical Portals that cut through space and time are not threatening in appearance. Designed by the magi of Old Vinnengael, the Portals were built for travelers, for King Tamaros believed that knowledge of mankind was the most certain way to obtain peace. The Portal has a gray floor, with smooth gray sides and gray ceiling. The horses were not fearful, but plodded through the Portal as contently as if they were in their own pasture.

Ranessa didn't like it. The gray walls closed in on her. The ceiling pressed down on her. She felt squeezed. The other Portals had been short, she could see daylight at both ends and that had helped her through them. But in this one, she lost sight of daylight behind her and she could see nothing ahead but gray.

There wasn't enough air and she began to gasp and pant. Sweat
beaded on her forehead and ran down her neck. Her stomach clenched, she thought she might be sick. She had to get out of this horrible place or it was going to collapse down around her and smother her.

Ranessa broke into a run. Wolfram shouted after her—something about being careful at the other end, for she never knew what might be out there—but she ignored him. She would gladly face even that evil black-armored thing than stay in this Portal another second.

Ranessa rushed out the end of the Portal and straight into darkness. It had been mid afternoon when they entered and now it was night. She looked up to see the vast dome of heaven over her, myriad stars shining brilliantly. The cool air of the waning summer eased her fever, she sucked vast quantities into her lungs. Ranessa had the impulse to fly, to lift into that star-dazzled sky and let the wind carry her up above the trees.

So strong was this impulse that she longed with all her soul to fulfill it. The realization that she couldn't wounded her to the heart. Devastated, she crumpled to the ground and wept out of frustration and the terrible pain of hopeless longing.

Finally emerging from the Portal, leading the horses, Wolfram looked about and could not find her.

“Where's that blasted girl got to now?” he demanded.

The horses had no answer and didn't much care. Weary, they wanted food and water and a rub down. Muttering curses, Wolfram led them to a stream, where one of the horses shied and jumped nimbly over something on the ground.

Looking down, Wolfram saw Ranessa. She lay huddled beneath a large tree, her body hidden by night's heavy shadows.

Fear compressed Wolfram's heart. Releasing the horses, he bent swiftly over her. He let out a deep sigh when he felt her heart beating strong and sure beneath his fingers. She was not dead. She was asleep. Brushing her hair gently from her face, he could see starlight glisten on the tears that were still wet on her cheeks.

“Girl, girl,” he said to her softly. “What a trial you are. But the Wolf take me if I haven't come to care about you. I don't know why.”

Wolfram sat himself down beside her. “I never cared for anyone before. Why should I? No one ever cared for me. Then the day comes when that black fiend attacks me and you run to save me. What a sight you were, Girl. Waving your sword about. Running to save Old Wolfram. As if I was worth the saving.”

The dwarf sighed, shook his head. “What the monks want with you or you with them is beyond me. I guess we'll find out soon enough, for we're almost at our journey's end.”

He fed and watered the horses and rubbed them down. He fed and watered himself, all the while keeping close watch on Ranessa, who slept through everything. He did not build a fire, for he was uneasy. He sat awake all night, keeping watch, waiting for the dawn.

Ranessa awoke and at first couldn't remember where she was. She looked around, puzzled. The sky was light. The tops of the trees were in sunlight, the trunks in shadow. Disoriented, she sat up and then she heard, close by, a rumbling snore. Wolfram had fallen asleep sitting up. Propped against a tree, he slumbered soundly with his chin on his chest.

Ranessa grimaced. He'd have a stiff neck this morning and he'd complain about it all day long. She wondered guiltily if he'd tried to wake her in the night for her turn at watch and then decided that if he had and he couldn't that was his fault, not hers. She was about to wake him, just for the pleasure of hearing him grouse and grumble, when a flash of light caught her eye.

Ranessa turned to the east. The sun rose from behind a jagged peak, silhouetted against the dawn of a purple and gilt-edged sky.

Dragon Mountain.