Days Past #2
“You are right,” Ignatius said. “Caspian’s death is on my conscience.
” His voice was low and quiet. Keira had never heard him speak in such a way, had never expected him to admit any such thing.
It was enough to shock her into silence.
And so he continued, “My only intent was to spare you from what I thought would be a terrible mistake. I thought that what he had learned here would be enough. I thought… a good many things, but I was wrong. I am sorry.”
“I have to find him.”
Ignatius’s eyes narrowed.
“Give me the Poratoria,” Keira said, casting the blanket that had been draped over her lap onto the floor as she stood.
“And where do you intend to go?” Ignatius said. “Even the greatest magics cannot reverse what is done.”
“Nothing is done. Not until I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Keira stood unflinchingly against his gaze.
“This is foolishness. You should rest here. We can make arrangements for-”
“Give me the book!” The sharpness of her words hung in the air.
Ignatius stood slowly, only inches away from her now. “If you must go, you can do so on your own power.”
Keira stared back at him, eyes blazing.
So be it.
She turned on her heel abruptly and climbed up the curved tower stairs.
Her hands reached for her belongings, packing them away as her thoughts churned.
She would go to the mountains, to Icespire Pass.
That’s where the letter had said he had been when he- Keira wouldn’t think it, not until she knew it was true.
She had to be certain, to see it for herself.
Perhaps there had been a mistake. Perhaps Caspian was simply lost and now needed her help. Perhaps-
Keira stopped herself from further speculation as she reached into the glass terrarium where Thaddeus was watching her with his round eyes. His squat weight in her hands was a comfort, and Keira forced herself to take one deep breath.
She reigned in her frantic mind, focusing singularly on the task at hand.
The toad’s fat body folded around powerful legs. Large bulbous eyes. Soft gaping mouth. It wouldn’t do, not for what lay ahead. Instead, she thought of feathers, long black wings. Sharp beaks and powerful talons. Keen black eyes.
The raven’s caw sounded before Keira had opened her eyes.
But she could feel his talons gripping her fingers.
The wind brushed over her face as Thaddeus tested his new wings.
Keira looked him over. She had done fine work.
He appeared no less than a common raven, no trace that he had ever been anything but.
Keira moved him to perch on the table. He cawed at her again, seeming to enjoy the sound.
Keira ignored him. Her bag was packed. She laced up her winter boots and threw a heavy cloak over her shoulders.
Then she took a bit of chalk from her case and began to etch the precise markings onto the wooden floor.
A bead of sweat trailed down her temple as she made the final marks.
When it was done, her hands were covered in white powder as she wiped her brow and assessed her work.
The symbols seemed right from her memory.
A sour expression came over her as she wished to consult the Poratoria, just to be certain.
Still, he tried to control her, even now-
Keira shook her head. She was sure of herself, of her knowledge. She had studied these diagrams for years.
With a bracing breath, she stepped into the circle, adjusting the bag slung over her back.
She called Thaddeus to her shoulder, and he flapped over obediently.
Keira closed her eyes and thought of mountains.
Sharp, jagged rocks reaching for the sky.
Powdered snow blanketing the ground. Then of battle.
Steel and blood and battered shields. Spears and fire and tattered banners.
Sudden harsh wind broke against her frame, slicing her to the bone.
Keira gasped at the cold, opening her eyes to behold the mountainous valley before her.
The ground was blackened with mud and ash, scattered with the broken aftermath of battle.
Fresh powdery snow had fallen, covering the scene in a blanket of white like a funeral shroud, as if the mountain itself wished to spare her.
Even so it was plain what had transpired here: a massacre.
Keira steeled herself against the mountain wind, bracing for what lie ahead. She needed a closer look. She needed to be sure.
Taking Thaddeus from her shoulder, she held him in her hands. “Time you learned to fly.” She lifted him up, allowing the air to catch his wings.
He faltered at first before finding the currents and soaring to the valley below.
Keira took in a lungful of the thin air, closing her eyes. She could feel her familiar’s presence as an extension of her own. She drew on the bond, strengthening it. When her eyes opened once more, it was the raven’s sight which filled her vision.
Thaddeus soared over the battlefield. The massive forms of ogres remained, but for every one of them were a dozen soldiers half buried in the snow.
She tried to examine them, to find some signifier that would answer the unspeakable question pounding in her heart.
In the distance were the remains of many tents.
This was where they were seeking shelter, not battle.
It had been an ambush. Thaddeus roosted on tent poles and wagons, broken spears and pikes only to fly again.
The dead went on and on, beyond number or mercy.
Too soon his wings could carry him no further.
Keira fell to her knees in the snow. Hot tears froze on her cheeks as the icy winds sliced through her coat, through her hair.
It was as if she could hear the screams of the dying in the wind, their faces still playing in her mind.
Even if he had somehow been left behind, there was no life in the valley now, only the countless dead.
The truth ripped her apart. Her wrenched screams echoed through the pass, heard by no one but the stones.
Caspian was dead.