Chapter 5 #2
Oversized footwear caused problems, but walking through thigh-deep snow in thin slippers was a fantastic way to lose toes.
I stuffed extra socks and a scarf into the toes and heels to pad them out, then shoved my feet inside.
After tying a scarf around each ankle to keep them from sliding around too much, I gave them a tentative stomp.
Good enough.
I shoved the sock-wrapped inkpot into the tunic pocket, flung the heavy cloak over my shoulders, and fumbled with the clasp until it snapped into place. The dagger slid easily onto my belt.
I scanned the tent one last time for anything else useful, but there was nothing. Water would’ve been nice, or food, but the only things left were the bundles of herbs, strange potions, and those jars filled with suspect things. None of that screamed “helpful survival gear.”
Another massive impact shook the hollow.
A deep groaning sound rolled through the camp, like wood bending far past where it was meant to go. Then a tremendous ripping noise tore across the night, followed by screams that climbed higher and louder with every passing second.
I couldn’t wait any longer.
I moved to the front of the tent, my heart thundering to the point that I struggled to hear my own thoughts. My fingers trembled as I eased the flap aside just enough to peer through the gap.
My breath caught.
The massive tree at the edge of the abyss had split in half.
Its ancient trunk had been ripped apart, and pale splinters the size of my arm jutted at jagged angles.
Perched on the split was a gigantic gray and black eagle, its talons sunk deep into the bark.
It had to stand at least forty feet tall, and its wingspan looked even wider than that.
When it turned its head, the torchlight gleamed on its feathers, and the colors shifted between black and gray, dark indigo and pale yellow with an iridescent sheen.
Its eyes burned with an inner light.
Twin stars of cold silver swept across the hollow with terrifying intelligence. The beak alone looked large enough to snap a man in half, and the broken trunk beneath it groaned as the creature shifted its weight.
Then it shrieked again, rattling my bones.
Night Court soldiers had formed a loose semicircle around the creature with spears raised and arrows drawn.
The Night General stood near the front with one hand lifted. “Do not shed its blood. Fate is already angry enough.”
At least Fate and I were on the same page. I hoped she made sure to kill every single one of them… I was willing to help her out, especially with Keldren.
With everyone’s attention locked on the gigantic bird, I scanned the camp quickly. Most of the tents still stood, though a few closer to the altar had collapsed into heaps of torn canvas.
Now, I faced my biggest challenge. Which way was south?
I tried to orient myself in the hollow, gazing along the dark stone walls until I spotted it.
There. That had to be it… or what remained of it. Fingers crossed I was right.
The opening was little more than a crack in the stone wall.
A cave-in had clearly blocked most of it beneath a jumble of boulders and shattered rock, but a narrow gap remained.
It was just wide enough for a person to squeeze through, and the darkness inside swallowed what little torchlight reached it.
The eagle shrieked again.
I glanced back in time to see it digging its talons deeper into the splintered trunk.
The wood groaned beneath its grip as the creature spread its wings wide, each feather catching the firelight like hammered metal.
It threw its head back and screamed toward the sky, pure fury echoing through the mountains surrounding us.
“Where’s that damned meat?” the Night General bellowed.
Wait. Meat? He was shouting for it again. Uh… was I the meat? Was this part of the sacrifice?
If it was, I didn’t want to find out.
I slipped from the tent and bolted along the edge of the hollow, keeping low and hugging the shadows.
The cloak streamed behind me, far too long for my frame, so I gathered the excess fabric in one fist while I ran.
My oversized boots thudded against the frozen ground, the makeshift padding shifting with every step, but they held together well enough thanks to the cloth tied around my ankles.
Frigid air burned my lungs as I pushed harder and faster. As I passed another tent, I snatched a torch from the stand near its entrance and kept moving.
Behind me, the eagle shrieked like it was losing the last of its patience.
I risked a glance over my shoulder.
The creature reared back, wings spreading wide as its talons ripped fresh gouges into the broken trunk. Soldiers stumbled backward with shouts of alarm, though most of them still held their semicircle.
“Hurry up!” the Night General shouted again. “We need to feed it!”
Yeah.
Definitely not staying for dinner or dinfast.
I reached the southern wall and pressed myself against the cold stone, chest heaving.
The crack in the rock face loomed ahead of me, darker than the surrounding shadows.
Up close, it looked even narrower than I’d thought, barely wider than my shoulders, with jagged stone edges that promised to slice up anyone foolish enough to squeeze through.
Loose rubble from the cave-in blocked the lower portion, forcing me to climb over shifting rocks to reach the opening. There was enough room for me, but a grown man would probably struggle.
Still, based on what Istos and the Night General had said earlier, the passage widened farther in. Treacherous or not, it was my best way out.
I winced at the sight of the rubble and shifting stones.
A massive slab had wedged itself overhead at an angle that looked horribly important, like it was the only thing keeping half the mountain from collapsing.
This route was not safe by any stretch of the imagination.
The only encouraging thing, if I was being generous, was that the eagle’s thrashing and the tremors hadn’t knocked it loose yet.
Another screech tore through the night, followed by the groaning protest of tortured wood.
Clearly, I must have challenged it with that thought.
I shoved the torch into the crack ahead of me, letting the flickering light crawl over a narrow passage that slanted steeply downward.
My stomach sank. It barely looked passable.
If someone came after me in there, I’d be trapped with nowhere to run, which was just a fantastic design feature.
Still, I could do this. I had to avoid thinking too hard about the tons of weakened rock balanced over my head and how one good hit from that eagle might turn me into a cautionary tale.
I ducked low and wedged myself into the opening.
My shoulder scraped the stone, and a stream of silt slid down over my sleeve.
When I bent farther to avoid the overhang, the top of my head brushed rock and sent another shower of dirt and gray dust spilling over my hair and shoulders.
I coughed, spat grit from my mouth, and kept pushing forward while the rocks shifted beneath my hands.
Every movement sent trickles of debris raining down around me.
A larger stone near my elbow wobbled hard enough to stop my heart.
I froze.
The stone settled with a grinding sound that made my teeth clench, but it stayed put.
I exhaled and inched onward.
The gap narrowed again, forcing me to turn sideways and shuffle forward with my back scraping one wall and my chest brushing the other.
My torch flickered wildly in the tight space, throwing frantic shadows over the stone and making everything feel even more claustrophobic.
On the bright side, the wavering flame bent from a faint current of air flowing up from somewhere below, which meant there was some kind of opening farther down.
Behind me, muffled by stone and distance, the eagle was still raising hell. Hopefully, it kept doing that and there were no guards on the other end waiting for me. Though I’d prefer it to help without body-slamming the mountain again.
Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Aunt Maureen’s voice popped into my head. But who knew if the eagle was actually helping me? I could still wind up its dinner if this was a trap.
The passage widened enough to tease me before narrowing again around another pile of rubble.
I had to climb over it, my boots slipping on loose stone while I awkwardly held the torch out in front of me.
Extinguishing it wasn’t an option. Not in this suffocating darkness where the walls pressed so close they felt alive.
The Night General had mentioned crystals, but I hadn’t seen even a hint of one yet.
No glowing markers. No branches in the passage. Nothing helpful.
What if it had all been a lie to keep me moving toward some convenient ambush deeper inside the mountain? But judging by the state of this place, it didn’t seem like anyone could control it that neatly. Then again, magic existed here, so unfortunately, logic could only get me so far.
Stone scraped against stone. Pebbles rattled down through gaps under my boots, and I went still with one knee pressed into the rubble and the torch thrust ahead of me.
The flame guttered hard, but after a few tense seconds, nothing else moved.
I let out a breath and hauled myself over the rest of the pile.
Past it, the ground sloped steadily downward, smoother than I expected and somehow even more treacherous because now there was less traction for my footing.
The walls still pressed close on either side, close enough that I kept one hand braced against the rock as I moved.
The torch flame bent and danced with the faint draft rising from below, and the sound of my own breathing bounced strangely through the passage.
No dripping water. No distant voices. Just me, the torch, and the constant feeling that one wrong step would end very badly.
I placed each boot carefully, but despite the padding, the oversized leather still shifted around my feet.
Loose grit whispered beneath the soles, and the passage tightened again around a curve, forcing me sideways.
Rock scraped my shoulder. I edged through, and beyond the bend, the descent angled sharply while the tunnel finally opened a little.
I stopped and stared down the slope.
The stone was worn so smooth that it reflected the torchlight with a dark, slick sheen. My stomach tightened.
“Treacherous is an understatement,” I muttered. Damn bastard.
Keeping one hand pressed to the wall, I tested my footing along the rougher edge and started down.
The slope kept tugging me forward, trying to pull my balance out from under me with every step.
I leaned back to compensate, fingers digging harder into the rock while the torchlight shivered over the twisting path ahead.
The eagle’s screeches had faded into something dull and distant now, swallowed by stone, but the silence down here only made everything feel worse.
The passage bent left and narrowed again. I hugged the wall, ducked my head, and eased through until chunks of fallen rock broke up the path. As I stepped over one of them, my boot slipped.
My stomach dropped.
My heel skidded out from under me, and I slammed my free hand against the wall hard enough to sting. A scream jumped into my throat, but I bit it back and clung there, heart battering my ribs like it wanted out.
Well, flitter. This was significantly more stressful than I had expected. I should’ve known better.
I swallowed hard, forced myself to breathe, and stayed exactly where I was until my pulse dropped from full panic to terrible.
Then I kept moving. The passage twisted again into another pile of collapsed rock, forcing me to climb over it on my hands and knees with the torch held awkwardly to one side.
The flame sputtered and threw wild shadows over the rubble, making it look like the stones were shifting even when they weren’t.
I dropped down on the other side and immediately flattened myself against the wall.
The floor beyond slanted away at an even steeper angle, the worn stone polished. Torchlight slid over it like it was reflecting off black glass, and every instinct I had told me stepping on it was a terrible idea.
Unfortunately, it was still the only one I had. There was no turning back now.
“Okay,” I breathed, though my voice came out thin and shaky. “Okay. You’ve got this.”
It sounded like a lie, but I’d go with it.
I edged forward with my back pressed to the wall and my free hand spread against the freezing rock.
The slope had grown so steep that walking no longer felt like walking.
It felt like negotiating with gravity and hoping it stayed in a merciful mood.
My thighs burned from the effort of keeping my descent slow, controlled, and not catastrophically stupid.
A smaller pile of rubble blocked the passage ahead, lodged right where the incline was at its worst. Of course it was. I would have to climb over it while balancing on slick stone that looked one bad decision away from sending me tumbling into whatever waited below.
I lifted the torch and searched for the best path. The flickering light spilled over jagged rocks and narrow gaps between them, dark little spaces just waiting for my boot to slip through and snap an ankle. Or a leg. Or my entire will to live.
My pulse thudded in my throat.
I placed one boot on the first stone and held my breath.
It stayed put.
Slowly, I shifted my weight and reached for the next foothold, every muscle in my body tightening as if I could somehow hold myself together through sheer stubbornness.
My left foot came down on a flatter-looking rock, and for one fragile second, I thought maybe, just maybe, Fate had gotten bored with tormenting me.
Then the stone rolled.
The world dropped out from under me.