Aralim 89

The dry breeze was warm, of course, but the sun had set behind Aralim and the evening chill was beginning.  Each peak of the Amirella Mountains gleamed white and gold from the twilight rays, while the creeping blue of the night spread behind them.  From the top of the Tenth Tower, the Walker could see clear across the flatlands, up the foothills, and into the distinct ridge of jutting, spike-like peaks.  It resembled a single mountain that had been eroded into the head of a rake, perhaps, or someone’s stretched-straight fingers. Continue reading Aralim 89

Raya 38

Raya blinked, and her ankle flared with pain as though she had stepped on it.  She cried out and reached along her leg to brace the broken joint.  The floor boards beneath her pained body were different, she realized, and her hand paused halfway to her foot.  She glanced up.

Raya sat in an unfurnished room, next to Axar, Ailo, Benn, and Dondar.  There was a burst of breath from the group, as though there had been silence earlier.  It was disconcerting for Raya, because, an instant ago, they had been in the loudly crackling flames of Axar’s house.  Now, the plain wooden walls and roughly sanded floor planks surrounding them were quiet, undamaged, and completely undecorated. Continue reading Raya 38

Arn 50

There was a man on the island, Arn realized.  He had only a few dozen feet left between his battered branch and the sandy beach of the shoal, but he had been paddling his legs with his eyes closed and his chin tucked low against his makeshift buoy.  One glance, to check how close he had been after hours of trying to swim, had nearly shocked him enough to let go. Continue reading Arn 50

Arn 49

The next wave heaved harder, shaking the raft and jostling the two bodies on the deck.  Arn stirred—he had seen what lie ahead and had decided to close his eyes to it, as long as he could.  Shar lay next to him, stuck to a pool of dried blood.  If they ever found land out here, respite from the Deep, Arn would give his friend the proper burial rites.  Arn was no embalmer, but how hard was it to bury and consecrate a heart?

The next wave shook Arn hard, and sent the smaller of the their two oars skidding.  He grabbed it, pinned it firmly under his knee, and looked up at the nightmare on the horizon. Continue reading Arn 49

Renado 40

The enormous stone walls of Ith came into view as they descended the last tall hill.  A few more bumps of land stood in their way, but they were nearly there.  Kazra looked across the valleys at it, and let out her breath at the sight.  If she had been in a good mood for the sight, it lasted only as long as that breath, then she kept on walking.  Renado paused a little more for Virn, Sarno, and the others.  They had never seen anything like it, and they were not in the same scowling state as their leader. Continue reading Renado 40

Aralim 88

It had taken nearly three weeks from requesting an appointment at the First Tower to attain such a meeting.  When the day finally came, Aralim’s party consisted of the ever-present Aura, Dullah by invitation, and Nilless by request.  Of course, Grendar insisted on accompanying as Aralim’s guard.

The Walker of the Path had seen the tower may times from afar, and a few times from up close.  It was round, at the base, and spanned at least ten storeys tall.  Aralim was not sure if he had ever seen a structure this tall before; the tallest of the Forty-Seven dwarfed even the height of the Iron Palace, though it had a far narrower floorplan.  There were few balconies in the structure, but many windows. Continue reading Aralim 88

Arn 48

Arn glided across an endless water.  He peered outward from his raft at the familiar landscape—the water was a pale ichor, covered in hand-spans of black smoke and the eerie hum of the spirits beneath.  A bird with monstrous wings glided over his head, never flapping or croaking a single utterance.  Despite its uncanny silence, Arn was thankful for its presence; its wings blocked out the enormous blood-red sun. Continue reading Arn 48

Renado 39

The Circle warriors were unstoppable.  They walked for twelve hours a day, and only stopped at the end of that because Ren and his men were exhausted and winded.  At night, they stayed awake, speaking silently.  Sarno and his soldiers were incredibly fit and could march further than Renado’s group—but they at least slept.  Kazra and Virn seemed to have no need of rest whatsoever. Continue reading Renado 39

Farek 45

At least Farek had tried.  He had spent a week trying to make an appointment with Lord Thrane, but the grumpy man was always indisposed, and he never contacted Farek back.  Farek started to worry that something may have happened to Thrane, but the lord had been spotted at a few social outings.  He must have planned meticulously to avoid Farek each time.

Farek even started to frequent the Royal Whale, Thrane’s choice waterfront drinking establishment.  Once, he had spotted Thrane at the bar, only to approach and find that he had mistaken an old man’s frame.  He’d apologized and moved on. Continue reading Farek 45

Aralim 87

The new Moon had begun, and it was time for Aralim to meet Vishol Kim’alu, the man he had spoken with on the road between Yarik and Tal’lashar.  Nilless, daughter of Queb Rionar, was his guide, and his escort was familiar—the Aura and Carrak, one of Grendar’s guards.  Ever since Aralim had ‘sneaked out’ while the others got settled in at the Tenth Tower, that first day, Grendar had insisted the guards take shifts guarding anyone who left.  Nilless was delighted to join them for an afternoon of scholarly discussion. Continue reading Aralim 87