Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The boat lurches to a stop, unable to move forward any further in the shallow water. Mikael hops out and pulls it up onto land, then helps me out. My boots sink into the peculiar black sand covering the entire beach. A twinge of pain radiates from my leg, reminding me of the injuries I now have.
I’ll be fine. I take a breath and push away the pain, focusing on what’s before me, and the goal of finding somewhere we can rest and sit by a fire.
Bending down, I dig my fingers into the sand, letting the particles slide through my palm. The texture reminds me of pebbles, except these are so small they’ve become soft. I keep moving forward while taking in how massive the island must be.
I always thought the maps were wrong. That the island could be no bigger than the largest of our summer isles.
But it’s as grand as the maps lay it out to be. It’s like we’ve entered a different realm entirely. I had thought the island would be frozen over—based on the gray and white colors the cartographers used—with no vegetation since the reported temperatures are so frigid.
Yet, to my left, expansive five-point columns of rock jut up from the ground, all coupled together in one connected formation.
Moss is peppered throughout the columns, growing anywhere it can attach itself. On my right, massive cliffs touch the sky, covered in greenery. In the distance, beyond the small hill of sand is a towering snowcapped peak.
Walking is a chore, the pain not wanting to be pushed aside is slowing my pace. Driftwood litters the beach. I pick up small pieces as we move inland and hand them to Mikael.
The southern wind that helped us get to the island quicker kicks up more violently now. I shiver from the sharpness of the cold air that pushes against my wet clothing.
But the shivers aren’t just from the wind; they overtake my body in random intervals, becoming more frequent, and with each one, my steps become uneven.
“Are you okay to keep walking?” Mikael asks, concerned when I tip to the side.
“I’m fine. I’ll heal, but it would help if we stopped for the night. Let’s find a place out of the cold and the wind so we can dry our clothing as much as possible.” I pull my arms around myself. “I’ll use the driftwood and my magic to start a fire.”
“It might take time to figure out where to stop. If the captain and lore are accurate, we have to make it to that snow-capped peak to find the dragon.” Mikael points to the mountain in the distance.
I hold my hand up, shielding my vision from the bright cast of the sun hiding behind the gray sky. It’ll take days to reach the base, let alone reach the summit. “How much time do we have left? Can we call them down to us?”
“Call a dragon to us? Please tell me that was a joke. We have a week, give or take a few days.” Mikael gives me an incredulous look, like I’ve sprouted multiple heads.
“What?” I eye him with a jut of my head for emphasis. “If we only have a week, and it’ll take two days to reach the mountain, then we might as well turn back and let the ocean take us.”
“Come on. Dragons do have wings, and like you said, maybe we can nicely ask for a ride.”
I groan and follow when Mikael keeps moving forward.
When we crest the hill, rivers span out below us, weaving into and out of each other like braids.
Cliffs surround them on each side, and the basin looks to be the same dark material as the beach.
We could use the boat and row up the rivers that lead to the base of the mountain.
I turn around to see the boat being pulled into the ocean. With how far we had pulled the boat up, that shouldn’t have been possible. “Mikael! The boat!”
Lucky for us, Mikael is uninjured and can move swiftly.
Even so, he struggles to pull it further on land as wave after wave crashes onto the beach.
Some waves help push, making it easier to move the boat, but he has to brace himself to keep it from being sucked into the water.
He finally gets it up far enough, out of the sea’s grasp.
I watch the waves as Mikael makes his way to where I wait on the hilltop. After every few waves, another one comes, larger and faster, crashing onto the shore.
“No wonder the dragons chose this island. I can see why no one wants to risk their lives coming here.” He shakes his head, letting loose the excess water that splashed upon him. “Now we really need to find shelter. I may run colder than you, but I’m not immune to freezing.”
“Yes, we do. Why didn’t you bring the boat up here?” I ask, curling into myself as I shiver again.
“Those rivers are not deep enough. They’re more like streams,” he responds.
“How can you tell?” I ask.
“They aren’t moving fast enough and have split too many times.” Mikael points in the distance, tracing the flow to where they combine and join the ocean.
Swirling mist clings to us as we descend the hill, into the basin. The tiny particles of water gather on my hair and leather until they slide off with each step I take.
Mikael helps me down, holding out his hand when there is a rough patch. When we reach the bottom, the ground is similar to the beach, but more rocks litter the area.
It’s still daytime, but clouds hang low over the island, giving us no way to determine what time it is. We’ll only know it’s night when the light fades, shortening our window to find somewhere to rest and dry off.
Except for high upon the cliffs, I see no sign of possible shelter, and I’m in no shape to climb, so we keep moving toward the mountain.
The more we walk, the more my leg throbs—when it should be healing. I want to stop and check, but I also don’t want Mikael to worry. We need to keep going, make it to the dragon and finish the trial.
Then get off this island, go back to the Cracked Fang to get a hot cider, and be lulled into bliss by one of the performers. Mikael shifts the driftwood from one side to another. He’s been switching sides since I gave it to him.
“I can carry more of the driftwood.” I call out to him. “I only have two pieces.”
“You have enough,” he says before continuing onward.
I love being cold. I love being cold, I repeat to myself, trying to convince my body the temperature isn’t bothering me.
It doesn’t work well. My teeth are constantly chattering, and my hands are numb. I’m trying to ignore the pain shooting up my leg. Stopping soon is imperative.
How far could the people who mined on the island have travelled?
Granted, they wouldn’t be cold and wet like we are, but I haven’t seen any equipment yet.
I’m starting to wonder if those were simply fables spun to keep others from coming to the island.
Unless the dragons rip their equipment from the land and toss it into the ocean.
We continue trekking along the rivers, and just as Mikael said, they’re much shallower than I realized from afar. The landscape morphs from sandy to rocky, some outcroppings are like the lava rocks we get from the human lands. Others are smooth black ovals, among other shapes and colors.
I grit my teeth with each painful step up another incline.
I have yet to see any animals other than birds as I take in our surroundings. It’s a good sign, hopefully, that we won’t encounter anything deadly—other than the dragons. Or perhaps they’re hiding for a reason.
“Bryn! Over here,” Mikael calls from where he’s standing a few feet ahead of me. I limp over to him, and he points to a gaping hole in the ground. “Sit here, out of the wind, and I’ll check it out.”
Sitting, in my state and without heat, could also be a death sentence. So, I counter, “We shouldn’t split up. That never goes well.”
“You’re right. I’m worried about getting down and back up with your leg. I know it’s bothering you.” He sighs, running his free hand through his damp hair.
“We don’t have to go far into the ground, just enough to get out of the wind and open air,” I offer as a compromise.
“Okay. Hold my hand as we enter.” Mikael takes the first step down into the opening, one hand secured within mine while holding the driftwood under his other arm.
The entrance is wide enough for three people to fit side by side, and looks like it’s a steady decline instead of a drop, but it’s rocky and uneven.
We enter the underbelly of the island together. It’s dark, and still cold. I create another orb of light and send it off. It hovers nearby, always right above or slightly in front of where we move next.
A massive cavern opens up before us; the sprawling space rises five times my height, stretching even wider, with chambers that branch out in different directions.
Light spills into the space from a hole in the ceiling.
If someone were unfortunate enough to fall in from that opening, it’d be to their death.
I have never encountered a place like this before.
It looks as if a painter randomly selected stones to color shades of red among the gray ones, even deciding to give a few an extra flair with black swirls.
They’re scattered throughout, all different shapes and sizes, with no rhyme or reason to their formations.
“It’s incredible.” Mikael looks around, awe written across his features. He lets go of my hand and drops the driftwood, running up to the entrance. “I’ll be right back.”
It’s only a matter of seconds until he returns. “I think we can walk these tunnels all the way to the mountain.”
I don’t answer immediately, considering what we were taught about this island.
“Documented in our historical scrolls is an account of the last time this island had smoke billowing from its peak. Liquid fire angrily spewed from the peak. As blood weeps from a wound, it traveled down the sides of the mountains, through the land, over its cliffs, and into the sea. When the scholar returned to study the island from a distance, he made mention of changes and new additions to the island.”
“Where are you going with this?” he asks.