14. The Torch
”Come here, sweet girl.”
I moved to sit next to her. Arit and Gingel had reached an accord over her medicine and had taken my absence as an opportunity to cuddle.
They are so damn adorable. Why her? She”s the one whose death will hurt all of us the most.
We had taken Father”s death hard; I felt his more than Gingel, and she had mourned our mother the most. Perhaps we felt their respective deaths more keenly because we were most alike. Their deaths fell like our own. But now, having lost so much already, I had dug my heels in. Fate had taken too much. Well, maybe it knew that and sent news of our mother.
Mother. How can I face her without Gingel? To see Gingel”s face in hers. To admit that I failed to protect her.
Gingel moved to curl in next to me. Arit made some comment about taking a turn to search, but I barely heard it. He left us to our quiet moment, knowing this was my goodbye.
”Did you not find the place where the Hag lives?” she asked.
”Not yet, but I”m certain we will. I”ll go out again once you are asleep and search with Bordus. He moves faster than I do and I”ll have a better vantage of the area. I”m sure by the time the sun rises tomorrow, I”ll be waking you with good news, and you”ll be set right by evening. You just watch.”
”You don”t really believe that anymore, do you?”
She felt my lie. I wrestled with the truth and the lie, but I couldn”t bear to have her last moments of consciousness clouded by fear and doubt.
”I guess we will see in the morning, won”t we?” I said with a smile. She didn”t push it, but I think she felt how close she was to the end. I wasn”t going to let our last conversation be mournful; we would be laughing to the last if I had my way.
”Do you remember that time Father took us to the traveling bazaar? That troupe of entertainers from Tenerdin?” Gingel nodded. ”You got your face painted with a rainbow of flowers, and we tasted so many wonderful treats, and Father bought us anything we wanted. The contortionists and acrobats. I always wondered how they did what they did with their bodies...and then the fiera-dancers performed when night came?”
”Yeah, they were my favorite. I wanted to be one for a while. It was silly; I couldn”t even stand to be too near the hearth, but I wanted to be like them.” Gingel giggled.
”You remember, at the end, when we were leaving, and he begged one the closing vendors to sell him that—”
”PIE!”
I laughed. ”Yes, that damn pie. He was carrying all the things he bought for us and that giant pie. He said he wanted to surprise Mother with it.”
”She was very surprised.” A hoarse laugh bubbled up from her throat, catching and producing a cough. ”He was wearing green, right? I remember he walked in so downcast when Mother saw him, berry filling covering the whole front of him. She chastised him roundly, but he winked at me as Matron Laira shooed us to our rooms.” She paused, the scene playing in her mind.
”He winked at you? I didn”t remember that. I must have missed it.”
”I”m sure he didn”t mean to smash it upon himself, but he tried to make the most of it,” she said.
”He always did try to make the most of any situation. I remember that.”
We took turns bringing forth memories of our old life, full of color and wonder and joy. Her voice retreated as we did, smaller and smaller. In the end, I simply held her hand, turning it over to examine how small it was compared to mine. So delicate still.
I heard Arit approach from behind, his search likely fruitless. I released her to him as she began to nod off. Her last moments awake would be his.
I walked from the camp. The small fire Arit had set had only illuminated so far, started for its light rather than heat. It was certainly warm enough here. When my steps slowed, without purpose, I sat on the warm sands, digging my fingers into the smooth grains, cooling as I burrowed further.
There was no feeling of peaceful acceptance waiting for me in the silence, just an expanding emptiness. I thought to sleep for the relief it offered from the racing thoughts but decided I was too restless for it.
Eth was surely still here, and I could have stolen a few more moments with him, but I would know just how close he was and how little time she had. I didn”t want to know. There was nothing left to do but stare at the blackest of nights and wait.
The blackest of nights, before the blackest of mountains—which now had a torch brightly blazing like a beacon on the slope directly ahead.
My gods...
I sat frozen, watching the flame dance, convinced it was a hallucination born of a desperate mind. Still, it remained. I stood. Again, I watched it, waiting for reality to wipe the light from my vision. It remained.
It was a leap in logic to assume this was an invitation from the Hag, but not by much. Who else could have placed that torch with purpose?
I whirled around, bolting for camp. The lovers slept now, and they would sleep until I had answers. Armed with my sword, I grabbed the coin pouch and the box of supplies from the apothecary and lit a torch before sprinting across the basin.
There has to be a path up. I just have to find it. I won”t stop until I do.
I continued straight until I could go no farther, and the torch flickering above me. Left or Right?…Right. I held the torch along the mountainside, staying as close to the slope as possible, theorizing that there had to be some kind of hidden path nearby.
I weaved in and out of every rock outcropping, examining every surface, tempted to simply start climbing. No sooner had the thought appeared than I curved around a bend to find a narrow path hidden behind a large rock, impossible to find unless you were standing right next to it.
I held the torch up, revealing a scantily quarried path up the mountain. Barely wide enough for a human, it certainly would not accommodate a horse. We would have to carry her up. But not until I knew what waited for us at the top.
My left hand braced against the rock while the torch led the way forward. I took every step with caution. There would be no faltering now, not when I was so close.
Quicker than expected, I reached the end of the path and peered into the darkness between the tall columns of rock that framed the entrance to what I assumed was her cave. I shivered despite the wafting heat coming from inside.
The Hag. What kind of person would she be?
It felt like a trap, this slim opening of jagged black stone leading through a dark path, with only a single candle far ahead to indicate the presence of an inhabitant. How easily could one rig a snare to halt an unwanted visitor and then reveal themselves to make the kill? I got the distinct impression that I was an insignificant insect tempted to fly directly into the spider”s web. She was dangerous; I had been warned.
No. I”ve come all this way. I will not let a dark path turn me away now.
I drew my sword and held it before me, hoping it would trigger any traps before I got to them. It was a simple hope, but nothing else could be done. If the Hag was a spider, surely she could feel me coming, my chest aching with the slam of each heartbeat. I inched step by step, my shoulders tensing, anticipating a blow that never came. As the candle came within reach, resting on a hewn ledge, a cave opened up to my left.
Candles—hundreds of them—lined the walls and clustered on random, scattered tables. Their illumination revealed racks upon racks of drying herb bows hanging from the ceiling. The mix of pungent spices saturated the air but not so much as to overwhelm. I strained to see any movement, but the verdant curtain of flora obscured my view of the entire space.
A curdled voice, thick with age, echoed off the walls.
”You”re late.”