Chapter 40 Kailin
KAILIN
"All paths lead to the Circle of Fate."
—Inscription at the base of Mount Hope
The Circle of Fate spread before us, twenty-four massive pillars arranged in a perfect circle atop Mount Hope's summit.
The flat area the stones encircled was about a hundred feet in diameter, which was plenty of room for the twelve hundred or so pilgrims, group leaders, medics, and everyone else that was supposed to be there for the ceremony.
Surprisingly, it was much warmer on the summit than it had been on the trail, to the point where there was no snow and the ground felt dry.
There was no vegetation, not even grass, and I wondered whether the dragons had something to do with that.
I also wondered where the injured pilgrims had been taken.
There were several large tents outside the circle, and any of them could house a field clinic.
I doubted the injured pilgrims had been transported to the Citadel or down to the clinic in Skywatcher's Point.
There hadn't been enough time to stabilize them for transport by dragon, which wasn't the best evacuation method for people with broken bones, but it was the only one viable from the top of this mountain.
"It's smaller than I imagined," Morek said from behind me.
I laughed. "You are kidding, right? The circle has to be at least a hundred feet across, and the stones the pillars were carved from had to be so massive that I wonder how anyone managed to drag them up the mountain in the first place."
Each pillar was at least fifty feet tall and so wide that three people joining hands could barely encircle it. I tried to imagine what the temple had looked like before it was destroyed. Had the dome ceiling been made from glass, like the legends claimed?
The weathered surfaces of the pillars were covered in symbols, but I was too dizzy to focus on any particular marking in order to make sense of it. Whenever I tried, the symbols seemed to shift. Perhaps once the ceremony was over, and I got some food into my stomach, I would give them another try.
"It seemed bigger from afar," Morek grumbled.
"Look at the ground," Shovia said, pointing to the perfectly flat surface within the circle. It was also covered in symbols, but unlike the ones on the pillars, these were clearly visible despite my altitude-addled brain making everything swim before my eyes.
Not that I could make any sense of them either. They must have been written in a language long forgotten or just carved out as decorations.
"They had to use magic to get these stones up here," Morek said. "Maybe the markings are incantations that keep this place dry and warm when it should be freezing."
I didn't believe in magic and preferred a rational explanation. "There is probably something underground that keeps this area warm. Supposedly, there are chambers underneath, so maybe they retain heat."
Alar looked around, taking everything in. He'd been quiet for most of the day, but I didn't know whether it was because he was suffering the effects of altitude and hunger or something else.
Was it sadness over the deaths we had witnessed? Or was he still obsessing over our kiss like I was?
For him, it was probably the first and not the latter.
A wealthy, good-looking Elurian, who probably had enough sexual experience to fill up a bookcase worth of journals, wouldn't be overly impressed by one forbidden kiss.
If anything, he was probably worried about the transgression impacting his chances of getting accepted into the Dragon Force.
With a sigh, I tore my eyes from Alar and turned to look at the shaman, who stood in the center of the circle, his white robes billowing in the gentle wind.
Moki sat on his shoulder, with his tail wrapped around Saphir's neck like a living scarf, and regarded the assembled pilgrims with huge eyes that seemed too wise for a pet. Then again, my Chicha was smarter than anyone gave her credit for, so there was that.
Elu, how I missed her.
"Saphir looks exactly like he did in the village," Shovia said. "Not a hair out of place."
Morek snorted. "He didn't have to trek up here for three days without eating. His dragon carried him. Of course, he looks perfect."
"Flying on the back of the dragon is not kind on one's hair, and especially when it's as long as Saphir's." Shovia smoothed her hand over her braid, which she'd finally conceded was the sensible style when on a trek. "If it were me, my hair would be a mess."
"I wonder how many pilgrimages he has overseen," Alar said.
"He's been doing this for hundreds of years.
" Shovia dropped her backpack on the ground.
"I don't remember the exact date of the first pilgrimage Saphir had overseen after the return.
Back then there was just one a year, though.
It took time for the population to grow enough to require two and then three. "
"It has probably been many thousands," I said.
Despite how ancient Saphir Fatewever was, he didn't look older than forty.
His face was unlined, his back was straight, and his eyes were bright with wisdom and tinged with amusement.
The only indicators of his age were his snow-white hair and beard, but then the leaching of color could have been the result of something other than aging.
Moki's head turned toward us, and as his eyes met mine for a moment, a shiver ran down my spine.
I had been wrong to equate him with Chicha.
She was smart for a dog, and sometimes her expressions were so human that she looked to me like an old, grouchy woman, but there was awareness and intelligence in Moki's penetrating gaze.
Was he trying to communicate something to me? Or was he just evaluating me?
"Are you okay?" Alar asked, close enough that only I could hear him.
"Yeah. I'm just at the end of my rope, figuratively and literally. I want to eat, shower, and sleep. But it seems like that's not going to happen anytime soon."
Not a lie, but not the complete truth either.
The terror of the narrow paths might have eased now that we'd reached level ground, but something else had replaced it. A tension in the air that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
"Are you sure?" Alar reached for my hand, but at the last moment thought better of it. "You look out of sorts."
Somehow, Alar had gotten to know me much better than he should have given our brief interactions, and I would have to tell him more than just generic complaints about the altitude and hunger.
"The altitude is playing tricks on my mind." I chuckled nervously. "A moment ago, I was thinking that Moki had intelligent eyes and he was judging me. Next thing I know, I will be conducting philosophical discussions with him."
Alar nodded as if what I'd said hadn't been a joke but a serious statement. "I've never seen a creature like that." He leaned closer to me. "Perhaps the rumors about your shaman are true, and Saphir is a sorcerer. Moki could be a chimera. According to the lore, they're supposed to be smart."
I laughed. "Sorry, Alar, but I don't believe in magic. The most I'm willing to concede is that Moki is some kind of hybrid creature that shouldn't exist."
To my surprise, Alar smiled. "You know what else I wonder about?" he asked in a hushed tone.
My heart thundered, expecting him to say something about the kiss we'd shared, but he looked up and pointed at the dragons circling overhead.
"The air is thin enough up here that each breath burns my lungs, but somehow their massive wings still find purchase in it.
How can you explain that as anything other than magic? "
Trying to hide my disappointment, I kept my gaze on the sky and shrugged. "I don't know. If we get into the Dragon Force, I'm sure they will teach us everything there is to know about aviation."
To avoid looking at Alar, I lifted a finger and tried to count the dragons circling above, but I kept losing track as they wove between each other in their seemingly choreographed aerial dance.
"Better sit down before you fall on your ass." Shovia unlaced the rope from around her waist. "We don't have to keep standing while we wait for the rest of the groups to arrive."
As we untied ourselves from the safety line that had kept us connected for the past day, it felt strange to be free of it. It almost felt like losing a limb I hadn't known I'd grown attached to.
We found a clear spot to rest near one of the standing stones.
The rock surface was worn smooth, as if countless other pilgrims had sat in this exact spot over the centuries.
I pressed my hand against it and wasn't surprised that the stone felt warm despite the cold mountain air.
My theory about something underground heating it had just gained more credibility.
"Anyone else seeing the symbols move?" Morek asked, staring at the carvings above our heads.
"It's the altitude," I said automatically. "Visual distortions are common at this elevation." But even as I said it, I noticed how the marks seemed to flow like water when I wasn't looking directly at them.
Alar sat down beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. "Sometimes it's okay just to experience things. Not everything needs to make sense or require an explanation."
I turned to look at him, ready to argue, but the words died in my throat.
In the strange light of the summit—a combination of the setting sun and the ever-present auroras—his face looked different.
Older, wiser, and something else I couldn't articulate.
Committing the image to memory, I resolved to sketch it out later when I had a private moment.
"I prefer to understand things," I said.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And what is your understanding about this place?"
Before I could answer, a hush fell over the gathered pilgrims.
Shaman Saphir had raised his staff—a simple wooden thing that somehow commanded more attention than any jeweled scepter could have.
With Moki perched on his shoulder, he began walking the circumference of the circle.
As he passed each standing stone, I could have sworn the symbols carved into it grew more distinct, more meaningful, though their meaning remained frustratingly out of reach.
It had to be another trick of the light, another hallucination brought on by exhaustion, hunger, and thin air.
"Look at his feet," Codric whispered.
I did, and for a moment, I couldn't understand what he wanted us to see, but then I saw it, or rather didn't see it.
Despite the loose scree that covered parts of the summit, Saphir's steps left no marks.
It was as if he was walking just slightly above the surface, his boots not making contact with the ground. But that was impossible.
"It's just..." I started to say, but I couldn't think of a logical explanation other than hallucinations again.
"Just what?" Alar asked.
I shook my head. "I don't know. I'm not thinking clearly. None of us are."
Shovia laughed. "Maybe that's the point."
Another dragon swept low over the circle, close enough that I could feel the vibrating air like a thud in my chest. Its scales were a deep burgundy, and its rider sat tall in the saddle, and I saw something pass between the rider and Saphir—a silent communication.
Moki once again turned his small head toward our group, his pointy ears standing to attention as he looked straight at me. Those big brown eyes held mine, and I felt as if he were reading my mind.
"Ridiculous," I muttered, but I couldn't look away.
Moki's gaze seemed to bore into me, past all my carefully constructed explanations and rationalizations. I felt exposed, as if every doubt and fear I'd been carrying was laid bare.
"Kailin?" Alar's voice seemed to come from far away. "Are you alright?"
I blinked, and the moment shattered. Saphir and Moki had already moved on, continuing their circuit.
"I'm fine," I responded automatically. "I'm just imagining more and more absurd things."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Alar asked.
I shook my head. "What's the point? It's just nonsense that my mind makes up. Besides, I'm too exhausted to talk."
That was hint enough for Alar to stop asking questions, and I was grateful that he wasn't pushy like Shovia, who wouldn't have given it a rest.
The sun was setting now. The dragons overhead had settled into a slower pace, circling above in a lazy gliding pattern.
"It's starting," Shovia whispered, and I didn't have to ask what she meant.
Shaman Saphir had returned to the center of the circle, and as the staff in his hands caught the last rays of sunlight, I could have sworn that I saw patterns of light spreading out from it across the ground, connecting all the standing stones in a web of energy.
It was just another illusion. Just another trick of the light, another hallucination brought on by exhaustion and thin air and three days without food. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to center myself.
When I opened them again, everything looked normal.
Well, as normal as anything could look at the top of a sacred mountain surrounded by ancient stones and circling dragons.
The symbols had stopped moving, the light was just light, and Saphir was just an ageless man standing in the middle of a circle of rocks.
Moki was still watching me, though, unless I was imagining that as well, which was entirely possible.