Four
S tranger?” I ask as I trudge through the snow.
“If I don’t return, will you take what little of him I’ve found and lay him to rest?
” I left my horse and the chained chest with a bewildered villager before I set my sights on the mountain, but if I don’t survive this evil, I don’t want his final resting place to be a locked box.
I want his body surrendered to the earth in a real burial.
“Of course, my child,” his silent voice answers.
“Thank you.”
“Although I would prefer you returned.”
I laugh. “Not even Lovec’s pledged hunters can reclaim their city. I am no hunter. What chance do I stand?”
“You are not a descendant of the people who slaughtered his wife.”
He has a point.
“But the gods turned their backs on me all the same.”
“Grief calls to grief, and you wear yours like a cloak. Lovec carries his like a shield. You’re not so different from one another.”
“You think he’ll help me?”
“No.” His chuckle is soft. “You know he cannot. You must do this alone.”
“Then why bring him up?” I feel annoyed.
“Because he’s free to move atop this mountain,” The Stranger continues. “Hreinasta cannot forbid that, and is it aiding your quest if he happens to walk before you? If he pauses in the only spot in the blizzard that blocks you from evil’s view?”
“Just like holding my hand.” I smirk as I repeat his words from the temple.
“There are no laws against holding your hand or walking or breathing. So, no, he won’t aid you, but I sense a touch of luck on this mountain.”
“I hope you’re right.” I don’t feel lucky. My fingers are already brittle with cold. “I don’t want to end the day in shredded pieces… If I die, will you bury me beside his parts? I want to rest in the dirt with him.”
“Of course, my child.” His voice is soft, almost affectionate, and it surprises me. “But stop asking me to bury people. It’s exhausting.”
I laugh, shaking my head as the distant ruins come into view. “I wish you were here.”
“I am here. I am always with you.”
“You know what I mean.” I’m afraid. I don’t want to be, but I am.
The snow whirls on a gust of wind to my right, and my heart stops beating. The tigers? Have they found me already? The city is still a long way off.
“You aren’t alone, child,” The Stranger says as the snowflakes settle with an unnatural twirl, but his tone is not urgent, not worried, and I understand.
I’m not alone. Lovec is here. He won’t set foot in our realm until his temple is cleansed, but his spirit is watching. I am glad I bled on his altar.
* * *
I finally reach the abandoned city, and even crumbling under the weight of one hundred cycles of snow, it is breathtaking.
Carved from the very mountain itself, it’s one with nature, a home intended for a god, and Lovec’s desire to return hangs thick in the air.
The village I left behind is a sad imitation of this looming structure, and I try to picture what it looked like before evil stole its magnificence.
The grey stone is smooth in some places and razor-sharp in others as it protrudes through the ice.
Some structures are small and humble, while others tower high, disappearing into the blizzard.
My imagination dusts the piled snow off the streets and sprinkles life throughout the vacant windows.
I allow myself a moment to picture the Great Hunter walking among his people.
I pretend the Northerners welcomed his secret bride with open arms instead of allowing magic to carve her into pieces for scavengers to find.
Lovers embrace in my imagined scene. Children play.
Animals roam free. It’s a beautiful sight.
One I would have loved to see, and I wonder what he might think if he were here with me.
I was never permitted beyond the temple walls.
My knowledge of the realm came from his stories.
His tales of rich merchants and their hidden jewels, of assassins and their weapons, of lands I couldn’t fathom.
He enjoyed telling me as much as I relished hearing them, and now our roles are reversed.
I’m witnessing the wonders and horrors of this world, and he lies locked in a box. I shudder, but not from the cold.
A low roar rips me from my reverie, and I stiffen.
The entire mountain stills, as if even the storm fears the predators, and I climb up a barren tree for a better view of my surroundings.
More of the city becomes visible, and I wish it hadn’t, for I see how close the monster drifts.
Pure white with thin streaks of black, so tall its shoulder blades would reach my chest. The tiger is all grace and violence, a malicious beauty.
It’s one of many beasts who knows the taste of human flesh. One of many monsters who craves it.
A second rumble answers the first, and subtle movement disrupts the snow further within the city.
I hope they haven’t caught my scent on the wind.
If they hunt me, I stand no chance, and my eyes frantically scan the frozen buildings.
A piece of him is there somewhere, but I don’t have the luxury of time.
These beasts will never allow me to search their territory.
My only hope of survival is to slip behind their ranks unnoticed.
The breath is icy in my lungs. The tree rough against my back. Where is he? Where did they hide him?
A swirl of dancing snow catches my attention, and my stomach pitches.
I recognize that pattern. I know who walks there, and I know why he does, but the realization ties my insides into knots.
The swirl falls into nothingness before the furthermost structure.
Lovec’s true temple. That’s where his bones rest. Its entrance was carved directly into the mountain peak at the city’s back.
The sheer cliff’s smooth stone and imposing height make flanking this city impossible.
To reach it, I must traverse the convoluted streets, and no one can survive a trek that long with bloodthirsty carnivores on their tail.
The Stranger’s voice penetrates my brain, but I don’t hear his words.
I’ll never make it. The distance is too great, the enemy too brutal.
For a second, I cannot comprehend how they hid him here.
In the Sivatag? In Death’s invaded temple?
These places of unspeakable horrors, but then I see War’s blood-soaked face, and I understand.
Valka delivered his bones himself. It is fitting since Valka carved him to pieces, and I gag at the memory.
Of course, War and his love of brutality walked unscathed within these—
“Damn it, Sellah, Run!” I register panic in The Stranger’s voice, and I nearly fall out of the tree at its urgency. “Why aren’t you answering me, girl? Move your feet!”
The low roar is all the warning I receive before a tiger leaps onto a branch behind me.
The monster is all grace and hunger, and without thinking, I throw my body to the ground.
My ankle twists, sending a shooting pain up my leg as my palms scrape against ice, and I scramble forward, the beast’s anger rumbling at my back.
I am a fool. A gods damned fool. I was so worried about the creatures at my front that I never noticed the one flanking me, and now I’m boxed in on all sides. I’ll never make it.
“Run, damn it,” The Stranger bellows into my brain, but the snow is too thick, too deep, too unforgiving. The tiger leaps from the tree, landing without a sound, and I grit my teeth, preparing for death.
Snow swirls to my right, and without hesitation, I lunge for it. I move through the drifts toward a structure missing a door. I don’t know how running through it will save me, but if Lovec walks before me, then I shall follow.
The tiger roars a war cry, a savage scream of hunger, and three other rumbling voices answer him as I dive for the opening.
I feel the wind at my back, the hot breath on my skin, but the second my body crosses the threshold, the entire house trembles.
When no teeth carve through my flesh, I spin, coming face to face with white irises.
My fear is a punch to the gut, and if I was half a foot closer, this monster’s fangs would sink into my face.
But for all its snarling rage, it cannot reach me.
The doorway is too narrow for its shoulders to slip through.
Fissures in the stone spiral out from his impact, but the creature is stuck.
I burst into ugly tears as the tiger pushes against the structure.
And pushes, and pushes, but it’s no use. He cannot fit.
“Run, child,” The Stranger orders, and I flee.
Returning to the blizzard, I race through the empty streets. My brain tries to picture the path to the temple, but the convoluted maze of homes is a twisted skeleton. I don’t know where I am, and the roars have only increased. Three, four, six. They’re closing in. My lungs hurt.
I shove my fingers into my boot and pull out my dagger.
Its blade is no match for their fangs, but the solid weight anchors me.
I cling to it as if it’s his hands, as if it is his warm skin dragging me forward and not my spinning fear.
I notice movement above me, but I don’t look up.
The tigers are stalking me from the roofs.
What small and easy prey I am. I say his name over and over.
If I must die, I’ll die with him on my lips.
The tiger above leaps off the roof, and I fling myself sideways.
I break through a rotten door and barrel through a house that’s sat untouched for a century.
The air is stale and ancient, but the lack of snow has me careening unrestricted across the floor for the opposite exit.
In seconds, I burst back out into the cold, but I barely make it three steps when I freeze in my tracks.
I curse with a laugh before retreating within the confines of that home-turned-tomb.