that valley, and there’s another cliff on its west edge. That cliff is about half as high as this one. All of those mountains funnel down into it. You can tell because of the waterfall; it’s the source of the river that flows by Hellsbreath.”
“Another reason for the road to cross here,” Angus said. “If we had followed the river, it would have led us to that lake.”
Giorge nodded. “When Ortis looked at the map, he thought this road went through a valley. He still thought that after we saw this ridge. But now, it’s pretty clear it drops down into that plateau and crosses it. When it gets to the other side, it climbs up around that east summit—the low one without any snow—and if he’s reading you’re map right, we’ll find the temple nestled in among those three peaks.”
“How long will it take us to get there?”
“We don’t know for sure,” he said. “We may not get there at all. We’ve seen fires on the plateau at night. Distance wise, it should be about a week. The mountains look a lot closer than they are because of their size. But if the road is still passable, it will help cut down on the time. If not,” he shrugged. “One thing is certain; if the temple’s still there, there’s a good chance it hasn’t been explored.”
“Good,” Angus said. “We may as well get going then. I’ve had enough rest for now.”
“Are you sure you can ride?” Giorge asked. “You feel weak to me.”
“I can,” Angus said. “Gretchen is a gentle ride.”
“Good,” Giorge said, grinning and ushering him to his horse. “We’ve been lucky up here so far, and I’d rather get off this cliff face before anything decides we’re food. It isn’t as defensible as the plateau will be. Not much room to maneuver.”
Angus half-smiled. “It may be more defensible down there,” he agreed, “but there are fewer things that can attack us up here.”
Giorge helped Angus into his saddle and then mounted his own horse. They rode side by side for nearly an hour before Angus began to sag in his saddle. After a lengthy rest, they continued, and by late afternoon, they neared the end of the ridge and the road began to slope downward at a noticeable rate. A few minutes later, Ortis called a stop, and when they gathered in a small, vulnerable clump of horses and men, he said, “There’s a cave. It’s occupied.”
18
“How quiet can you ride?” Hobart asked, his voice soft, intense, his armor clanking lightly as he walked.
“Quieter than you in your armor,” Angus replied. “Why?”
“We don’t know what is in the cave,” Hobart said. “It’s big and it’s loud. Giorge is going to see if he can get a peek at it.”
“So?”
“If it’s a bear,” Hobart said. “We can probably outrun it with the horses if we get a bit of a head start. It might follow us for a little while, but I doubt it. If it’s already in its lair for winter, it probably doesn’t need any more food. That doesn’t mean it won’t eat it, if it’s easy enough to catch; only that it would be more likely to attack a single rider than a group. Except, of course, if it’s in its lair, which is likely. It will defend itself, but how far it will go, I don’t know. We should be close enough to the plateau to elude it.”
“And if it isn’t a bear?” Angus asked, reviewing the short list of spells he currently had at his disposal.
“It’s too big to be easily managed,” Hobart said. “But the cave is too narrow for it to be a dragon, and too short for it to be a giant.”
“What’s the plan, then?” Angus asked.
“We’ll decide that after Giorge gets back—unless the thing catches him. Then we fight. We won’t have any other choice, despite the hazards of fighting in such confining, precarious conditions.”
“Let’s say it isn’t a bear,” Angus said. “What else could it be?”
“That’s just it,” Hobart said. “There are things in The Tween that we don’t know about. It would have to be one of them. We’re hoping to sneak past it without it catching us.”
Angus frowned. What kind of creature could it be? Perhaps if he were to look? But how? His spells were geared toward defense and offense, not subterfuge. Most of them were blatantly obvious; it was difficult to conceal an open flame. In fact—
“Hobart,” he asked. “How large is the cave entrance?”
Hobart shrugged. “About eight feet wide and maybe ten high.”
“Is it a deep cave, or a shallow one?”
“I couldn’t tell,” Hobart answered. “It can’t be too shallow, though; the rumblings were too muted, and if it’s a bear, they like deep holes. You would too if you were going to sleep for four or five months.”
Angus nodded. “I have an idea,” he said. “If all we have to do is make it past the cave, that is.”
“We’re near where the road curves onto the plateau,” he said. “If we make it to there, we should be all right for now.”
“How near?” Angus asked.
“Maybe a mile,” Hobart answered.
“When Giorge comes back, I need to talk to him,” Angus said. “He’s not going to like it very well, though.”
“Why?” Hobart asked. “What do you want him to do?”
Angus shrugged. “Let me use his net.”
“If it will get us past the cave,” Hobart said, “he won’t mind.”
“He won’t get it back,” Angus said.
Hobart shrugged. “He’s not any good with it anyway.”
Angus smiled, “Do you think that will matter to him?”
“No,” Hobart admitted. “But if it gets us past that cave without anyone getting mauled, I’ll buy him a new one first chance we get.”
“Good,” Angus said, dismounting and handing Hobart his horse’s reigns. “Catch me up when you go by,” he said. “You’ll know when.”
Angus hurried past Hobart, Ortis, Ortis, and the other Ortis and paused next to Millie only long enough to get Giorge’s net and to grip and test the weights in his right hand. Then he hurried along the cliff face until he was near the cave opening. While he waited for Giorge to emerge, he drew the magic to the edge of his awareness and sought out the strands he would need for the two spells he wanted to combine together. The selection of red-tinted and blue-tinted threads was ample, and he brought two of them into sharper focus than the others so he could manipulate them more quickly.
Giorge eased around the cave opening and sidled along the edge, making almost no sound. If it weren’t for the blackness of the hooded cloak standing out against the gray-brown cliff face, Angus wouldn’t have even noticed him. When Giorge saw Angus with his net, he paused only slightly before hurrying up to him.
“What’s in there?” Angus whispered when Giorge was next to him.
“I don’t know what it is,” he said. “I went back as far as I dared. Its rumbling got louder, but I couldn’t see anything.”
“Too dark?” Angus asked.
Giorge shook his head. “No,” he said. “It was almost like the mountain was breathing. The sound seemed to be coming right out of the stone.”
Angus frowned. “How deep is the cave? How far back did you go?”
“I went in about twenty feet,” Giorge said. “I couldn’t see the end of the cave, so it has to be a lot deeper than that.”
“How close were you to the sound?” Angus asked.
Giorge shrugged. “Who could tell? It might have been an echo.” Then he reached out and poked his net. “Why’d you bring that?”
Angus half-smiled. “I’ll tell you later,” he said. “For now, I’m going to use it to block the cave entrance while the rest of you ride quietly past.”
“How—” Giorge began, then shook his head. “I don’t need to know. How much time do you need?”
“By the time you get back to them,” Angus said. “I should be ready.”
Giorge nodded and hurried quietly toward the others. Angus watched for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and walked slowly, casually up to the cave entrance, the net jangling quietly. He slowed, and then stopped
altogether when he was next to the cave mouth. It was, as Hobart had noted: about eight feet wide and ten feet high. When he leaned forward and looked inside, all he saw were rocks and shadows. But the sound was something entirely different. If the rumbling hadn’t been so loud, uniform, and rhythmic, he would have thought it was Hobart snoring. But there was no exhalation of air accompanying it, no shuddering or rattling of a giant ribcage, no wheezing inhalation—just the rhythmic, steady rumble gradually growing louder then softer but never disappearing altogether.
He reached out for the strong blue thread he had selected, wrapped it around his left forefinger and linked it to Giorge’s net with a tight little knot. He continued tying the sky magic around each weighted segment of the net, and when he finished, he reached for the weakest flame strand he had chosen. He pinched it between two of his fingers and touched it lightly to each of the small, round metal weights. Then he stepped away from the mountainside and moved close to the edge of the cliff. He was in a vulnerable position, now; whatever was in the cave could see him but he still could not see it.
He sidestepped softly to the center of the cave entrance, his eyes alert to any movement just beyond the threads of magic he held in his mind, in his hand.
Nothing. No movement at all; just the incessant rumble….
Angus lifted the net’s weights over his shoulder and threw them, spear like, at the center of the cave, letting its guide rope follow limply after it. As it flew, Angus manipulated the threads of magic with a short series of gestures, and the net spread outward, each weight