The Lord of the Clans (24 page)

They drank with slurping noises while he refilled their water skins in the clear stream running from the main lake. Her belly finally happy, she got to her feet and stretched with satisfaction.

“Where are we going now?”

He pointed toward the way they had come.

“Rangers’
Fall
was one of the last towns before we reach the mountains. We’ll probably have to sleep in the wild tonight, and it will get much colder.”

“That’s a pity. I like this weather. How far is it to the place where the leader of the resistance said we have to go?”

“I can’t say for sure. I think we should get close to the Shrouded Mountains by tomorrow evening. After that...”

His shrug told her they’d have to ride and see. She took a long, last look at the glittering lagoon before joining him by the stream. The horses had finished drinking and neighed with impatience. They didn’t care about their destination, so long as they got the chance to stretch their legs.

She swatted a fly as they retraced their steps toward the main lake. Spring was definitely on the way, and although he’d warned her about cold weather, she had trouble imagining she’d spend the night with her teeth chattering. Then again, he knew much more about the Shrouded Mountains than she did.

She got on her mount while he checked the strap along his horse’s side. As she waited for him to finish the task, his whole body stiffened. She knew in a wink that there was nothing she could do.

His face turned white. Hands pressed against his ears as if he tried to shut out a skull-piercing shrill, he collapsed onto the pebbled shore.

Chapter Thirty-Four

She rushed to him and knelt at his side. He appeared to be sleeping. She briefly toyed with the idea of fetching one of their water skins and splashing water over his face, but his middle finger twitched.

Heart pounding in her chest, she stilled and watched him slowly open his eyes. A white layer seemed to cover them, similar to a thick veil keeping dust off a fragile object.

“Cameron? Can you hear me?”

Aware that he’d stepped into the realm of the Ancients like she had done twice before, she wondered where the temple was. For him to pass out like she used to when she still possessed her magic only meant there had to be a shrine somewhere nearby.

He sat up. The sight of his milky, glazed eyes sent a shiver down her spine. She hadn’t minded losing consciousness to fulfil a higher goal when she still owned her body, but looking at him entranced was a whole different story.
A much scarier story.

His spirit was gone for the time being, and she found herself alone on the shore of a lake with two horses as sole companions.

She drew long breaths to quieten the beats of her pulse and took hold of his hand just as he got to his feet without seeing her.

Prompted upwards, she followed his lead like he had in the Shrine of Fate and the Shrine of Destiny. When he mounted his horse, she did the same.

They circled one end of the lake for a while until he abruptly changed course. Pretty soon, they were galloping across a vast, barren plain, with low hills far away in the distance.

She figured the horses must be exhilarated to ride full speed into flat, open grounds, but she didn’t share their excitement. The faster they went, the more cramped her belly turned as she started to believe she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the mad gallop.

Then she’d lose him.

What would she do without him when she didn’t even have the slightest inkling of what direction they’d taken? She ignored the pumping of her heart and tightened her hold on the reins.

Hours passed, or so it seemed. Had she also left behind her sense of time? The notion appeared unlikely as she noticed that the low hills in the distance now looked much closer.
Bigger.
Higher.

Temperatures had certainly dropped since their wonderful swim in the lagoon and, to her
left,
the sun was beginning to decline. Could she be facing the Shrouded Mountains already?

A river ran along the plain now. A runnel at first, it grew into a large stream with every league they put behind them. On the other side, trees and underbrush gave a nice change to the plain scenery.

She wished for the ride to end. A chilly wind whipped her face and stiffened her fingers around the bridle. Wherever they were going, he had endured the shrilling noise from a very long distance. He slowed the pace all of a sudden and veered to the right, straight toward the foaming river.

Thanking all the Mighty Gods for answering her silent prayer, she followed him slowly across a narrow, wooden bridge spanning the water. They may not have reached their destination but, however short, she was grateful for the respite anyway.

The big hills disappeared from view while he led them through the wooded area on the other side of the bridge and into a vast, grassy glade. A temple stood in the centre, looking ancient and abandoned in the midst of the surrounding, lively plantation.

Although deep lines cracked the outer walls, the old construction appeared solid enough to be entered, or so she hoped.

He dismounted, and she hurried to keep up with him. She hadn’t gone through all this trouble to lose sight of him now. Leaving the horses to their own devices, she strode inside the temple after him.

Dust flew off when they trampled the stone floor. She wriggled her nose as a strong, mouldy odour floated past.

Arms stiff along his sides, neck as straight as his back, face pointed at the shadows engulfing the room, he resembled a dead body kept upright by the sheer will of a hidden presence.

Her soul ached at seeing him in this condition. As the thought of him staying like this forever crossed her mind, her heart began to palpitate quicker. She’d go into the shadows for him, but she needed to have him well again.

He walked toward the back of the room, and disappeared through a low opening. She trailed behind him, but had to duck to avoid banging her head. Either the Ancients used to be smaller in size, or gigantic men like the Lord of the Clans had been very few.

The next room vanished into obscurity, cut off from the light of day. Whether he was able to see in the dark, or he didn’t need brightness to find his way, Cameron got swallowed up by shadows.

She fumbled along the wall, doing her best not to panic, but recalling instead their passage in the first temple. When she found the pointy end of a torch, she lit it with his flint.

She'd feared to find herself in a small, gloomy cave. As it happened, she couldn’t have been further from reality. She stood on a square landing, surrounded by empty space. Although there must have been stone walls around, the light from the torch didn’t appear to be intense enough to reveal them.

Her booted feet rested at the top of a staircase, spiralling down into nothingness. In all likelihood, the Ancients had built the shrine underground. She leant over the flimsy handrail and peered into the dark, but she could barely make out his slim shape going down the stairs. For the love of the Creators, why wouldn’t the Ancients let him wait for her?

A gust of stale air brushed past her. Torch held high, free hand gripping the dirty railing, she carefully put her right foot on the first step leading down into the black abyss.

Her first thought was to focus on the number of stairs to stave off the alarm growing inside her, but she lost count after twenty-five as he vanished from her sight for a brief instant.

Huffing from anxiety as well as a palpable mustiness in the air, she hastened her descent until she reached the bottom of the staircase. The flame of the torch settled down as soon as she touched solid ground.

The feel of a floor under her boots relieved her anxiety. She darted her eyes around, looking for him, searching the gloom for any clue as to her whereabouts. When she spotted him, her muscles loosened up.

A few feet ahead of her, he stood in front of a niche in the wall and appeared to be groping for something. She lifted the torch higher. He didn’t seem to be in need of her help, so she advanced toward what should be the centre of the room. Her eyes widened as she discovered her vaguely lit surroundings.

Towering many feet over her, the white walls looked made of limestone. Dozens of white columns had been built across the vast chamber and supported a ceiling too high for her to discern. Black shelves lined the walls from top to bottom, filled with thousands and thousands of books.

Her stomach knotted with awe, she gaped at the immense, silent library. This white chamber had to contain all the knowledge of the Ancients. No wonder some legends had been lost for ages.

Long, wooden desks filled the place and displayed more manuscripts collecting dust on each of them. She approached the nearest writing table with cautious, respectful steps.

All the big, leather bound books were closed, except one. As she brought the torch closer to take a look at the open page of the manuscript, she heard the sound of his footsteps going back up the staircase.

He’d probably got hold of whatever he came down here for, and did she really want to stay alone in this fantastic, white, dead chamber that gave her shivers? Without pausing to think, she grabbed the book and hurried after him.

She couldn’t grip the railing anymore with her hands secured around the manuscript and the torch. Still, she hastened her climb, and made it to the upstairs landing without twisting an ankle.

Her pulse accelerated when she lost sight of him, then it began beating louder against her temples when she barged into the entrance room.

He lay on the stone floor. On his back, eyes shut, cheeks ashen, chest rising up and down with deep, slow breaths. She had passed out for only a short time at the Shrine of Fate, but she’d remained unconscious almost a whole afternoon at the Shrine of Destiny. What would happen here? Would it take even longer for him to come back to his senses?

An apprehensive knot seized her throat. This time he definitely wasn’t able to help her or soothe her fears. She stood alone. Then her gaze fell on her strong, calloused hands still holding the ancient book, and she smiled.

There was nothing to be worried about. She inhabited his massive, powerful body now, so she had the means to protect him and to fight off any enemy who might come their way.

Reassured by her own determination, she knelt beside his motionless body. She placed the manuscript on the floor before prying open his fingers, clenched into a fist. There, in the middle of his palm, a small, black as night triangle rested.
So similar to the disc and the square.

They possessed at present three strange objects. Although she couldn’t fathom their use, they came from the Ancients and had to be important.
Perhaps crucial to the accomplishment of her quest.
Sighing, she dropped the triangle into her pocket and stood up. She had work to do, tasks that needed to be performed in order for them to see the night through.

Outside, the sun sank quickly below the rows of trees surrounding the glade. She tied the horses within reach of patches of grass and carried the saddlebags inside the temple before walking to the woods to gather branches and twigs. Arms loaded with pieces of wood, she made several trips back and forth. The fire she meant to build wouldn’t die this night.

Although not an expert like the Lord of the Clans, she succeeded in kindling good flames. She fetched a blanket, spread it near the fire, and lifted the unconscious body in her arms to lay him on the cover. Then she folded her cloak into a flat bundle and slid it under his head.

She meant to keep him safe and warm through the coldest night since her departure from home.

A chilly wind picked up outside, but the thick walls of the temple sheltered them. She ate while listening to the howls of rapid draughts. She also watched him as he slept, but the vision of her former face brought a loneliness she hadn’t expected. She missed him so much that her stomach closed down, and she had to abandon all notions of food for a while.

When a lone blast of air penetrated the temple and disturbed the flames, she covered him with the other blanket as well as her heavy sheepskin coat. He didn’t react to the added weight, but she felt useful nonetheless.

The long ride hadn’t worn her down to the point of sleeping just yet. Wrenching her gaze away from him, she grabbed the manuscript, lifted the hard cover, and began reading the first page.

The temples have fallen. The enemy has taken the Shrine of Fate and the Shrine of Destiny. It is evil, more powerful than we anticipated, and it cannot be vanquished. The Four Realms stand on the brink of destruction. Our last hope lies in the hands of Balinar, but the way to the Forsaken Lands is impenetrable.

The clear, neat handwriting magnified the power of the written words. She interrupted her reading while suppressing a shiver. The mysterious Balinar must have found a way to defeat the enemy because, ages later, people still lived and breathed in the Four Kingdoms. Against the impossible odds recounted by the scribe, her world hadn’t been destroyed.

Stranger still, she recalled with more or less clarity her shaman teachings of the Four Kingdoms, but nothing about the Forsaken Lands. Then again, she might not have been the most dutiful of students.

We have all fled here to the Shrine of Doom. Our last temple still stands, but for how long? The enemy is already at the door. The keys are hidden from his sight. If prophecy should come to pass, they must be used.

It seemed she was about to spend the night in the Shrine of Doom. What a lovely name for a charming place. What keys and prophecy was this scribe talking about? His meaning remained cryptic despite his neat handwriting. As much as she felt compelled to read the rest of the account, two words at the bottom of the page suddenly caught her eye.

The Darkening.

She skipped the last part of the tale to focus on the beginning of the paragraph containing the two words that made her skin crawl. However, the longer she went on reading, the more frustrated she became.

With many unfathomable references, names, or places she didn’t recognise, she wished once more that she had skipped meetings by the river with Kelton to pay more attention to her shaman’s lessons.