“But how? Granda said it’s too danger—”
“You must go on. Remember who you are, child. You have the blood of your grandmother and the heart of her gifts.” Ebrill’s violet eyes flashed. “Don’t you understand? This is the only way to save them. This is the only way to save us all.”
Lia brandished her knife. “Follow me,” she said to her cousin.
Ebrill had instructed her on a few key plants to slow the poison’s effects. Wynn stuck close to Lia’s side, packing the cuttings of flowering stems and dirt-crusted roots that she handed him. She buzzed through the meadow, harvesting small portions from each cluster of herbs, careful to ensure little stress to the plants. Along with the herbs, she gathered an ample stock of soup greens.
“That should do it,” she said, stifling the fear that stirred within her. “Enough to leave with Granda and Kelven, and a good supply for my pack.”
They arrived back at camp in a hushed frenzy, and Lia sorted healing concoctions while Wynn divided food and supplies.
“Are either of you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Kelven’s voice was calm, but worry engraved his brow.
“Follow me,” Lia whispered. She led both boys a fair distance from the camp, and then turned to Kelven. Heat rose up her neck despite her distress. “We have to split up. Wynn and I are going on to find the Nion tree.”
“You...you’re going on?”
Wynn placed his hand on Kelven’s shoulder. “We need you to stay with Granda.”
“I, of course, I’ll do whatever you need.” Kelven’s eyes flickered from Wynn to Lia. “Let me go with Lia in your stead.”
“No, Kel, I have to go,” Wynn said. “I have to follow this through for my kin. See what you can do to get Granda back home. If we’re not back by the week’s end, you’ll need to get word to Kilnsgate, to Ma.”
“The amber on Granda’s staff and an offering of food should get you through that fog,” Lia said, warmed by Kelven’s desire to go with her. “Aside from their interest in me, the shades held to the pact. Like Granda said, the amber’s enchantment imparts passage to all of her kith and kin.”
Lia didn’t have to mention how she and Wynn planned to get back. The previous night’s revelations had divulged her power to them all. But her newfound gift as a spirit mage terrified her. She held to the notion that Grandma Mryna had found a clever way to deal with the shades. When the time came, Lia would find a way to use her gift with ghost-speak to do the same.
Granda slept soundly while Lia rolled up her bedding. She took heart that at least sleep eased his suffering, and Kelven would be there with the brew she made when he woke. She bent down and kissed his forehead, forcing back tears. Granda had to hold on now, too, while she and Wynn did whatever it took to bring back the cure.
Granda’s words from the night before echoed in her mind, “The Great Nion grows at the crest of a cliff, overlooking the sea.” He went on to describe how Grandma Myrna, as a curious youth, trekked the lower mountains and came on the largest tree she had ever seen. Awed by its sheer size and majestic canopy, she ventured near enough to hear a cacophony of ear-wrenching cackles. The hideous laughter, the sight of a black snake coiled at her feet, and a frightful force wrapping around her mind like a sticky web, prompted her to flee and never return.
While Wynn fetched their horses, Lia finished her preparations and cinched her knapsack shut. She set it on her bedding as Kelven approached. “I emptied my saddlebags for you. You’ll have more space and they’ll withstand any kind of weather. I strapped a few short spears inside, might come in handy for fishing or as skewers.”
Lia lifted her eyes to his. “Thanks, I mean, really, Kelven, thank you for everything. It’s been, well, you’ve been—”
“Just come back in one piece, all right?” Kelven brushed wisps of coppery hair back from her face. His thumb traced the shade-inflicted wounds fading on her cheek, and a ripple of heat ran through her.
“I’ve never felt … I wondered if you—” Lia whispered.
“I feel the same. Have for years, waiting, hoping Wynn’s fiery cousin would think of me.” Kelven pulled her closer. His hands trembled on the small of her back. Lia wondered if he could hear the thumping of her heart.
He lowered his head and brushed his lips down her cheek, hesitating for a heartbeat. Lia lifted her chin, and Kelven kissed her on the mouth, lingering in a moment of sweetness. Lia had never felt so exhilarated and pained at the same time.
Their embrace ended at the sound of horses approaching. With Kelven’s breath warm on her face, Lia turned away. She could only hope they’d reunite soon.
Lia and Wynn sped northwest from camp. It took the remaining hours of daylight to traverse the meadow. To Lia’s relief, Wynn said nothing about Kelven and her. Perhaps he hadn’t seen their embrace after all. Kelven’s kiss still burned on her lips. The thought of him left her giddy, yet comforted. She’d carry him in her memory for as long as it took until they all returned home.
She glanced south to the distant Beth grove where they first entered Brume. It had only been yesterday when they arrived and three days since Da’s attack. Thank the stars he’s so strong—strong as an oak tree and nothing, not even that Straif’s venom, will take him without a fight. She clung to the notion that Ebrill’s herbs would ensure that Granda held strong as well.
They edged the dense wood as night approached, and Wynn turned Nolan around. “No way to get through that forest now. Have to wait till first light.”
Lia nodded, peering at the dark thicket. The fae meadow has certainly walled itself in, she thought, and the rest of Brume is a hidden mystery beyond.
She slid off Merrie and unstrapped her bedding. The horses wandered to a patch of grass and quieted under the evening sky. Lia wished she could rest that easily. Her body refused to unwind and her mind fretted for what lay beyond the meadow.
The gentle rhythm of a nearby stream called to her, offering a reprieve from the wave of fear gripping her insides. She tossed down her bedroll and grabbed her knapsack. “I’ll be back,” she said.
She jogged to the banks of the stream and knelt down. In one quick motion, she threw off her tunic and trousers, and slipped into the waters. She dunked her head under, holding her breath until her lungs nearly burst. Though it didn’t wash away her worries, the water helped ease the pent-up tension in her body.
With a measure of renewed calm, she grabbed her bag and retrieved a bar of soap that Ma had made. Nothing else compared to its froth of bubbles and sumptuous scent. Villagers from all around sought out the soaps, and Da sold crates of them along with his handcrafted furniture whenever he travelled to the markets.
Lia rubbed the foam over her skin and the scent of honey and elf leaf transported her home. She lathered her hair and then dunked back under the water. As she lifted up, she noticed green hair intermingled with her own red locks.
“Oh!” She pulled back at the sight of a water fae washing in the milky bubbles. The otter-sized undine slipped close, preening her tresses. She rubbed and stroked her green hair. Lia grinned. Hair was the one vanity she could relate to; she cared nothing for the pomp of frills or trinkets, but her long coppery hair had always been her glory.
The faery giggled and disappeared into the brook, and Lia dressed and walked back to camp.
“Feeling better?” Wynn asked, divvying some food from their stores.
She nodded and rolled out her bedding, uninterested in the crusty bread and hunk of yellow cheese Wynn set out for her. She pulled her hair up in a twist, pinning it with her bodkin, and adjusted the leather thong hanging around her neck.
“Whuf’s fhat?” Wynn asked, spitting breadcrumbs and pointing to her neck.
“Oh, this?” Lia pulled on the thong and brought out the pouch from beneath her tunic. She opened it and dropped the crystal onto her palm, immediately feeling the strange heat it exuded. “It’s a piece of quartz from back home.”
“Whatdja do, chisel a piece off one of Rockberg?
??s boulders?” Wynn shoved a hunk of cheese into his mouth.
“No, I, hmm, now that you mention it, it does seem odd. Koun brought it to me in my garden, near the quartz tower that sets there.” Concern pricked at her. The more she thought about it, the surer she was that none of the crystal towers of Rockberg had ever cast off pieces before. The monoliths had stood unchanged for as long as anyone could remember. The royals had claimed they were a simple fluke of nature, serving no real purpose, and since you couldn’t chop them down like a tree, they were best left alone.
“Haven’t those stones been there forever?”
“Well,” Lia said, shifting her thoughts, “there’s a fable that tells of dwarfs inhabiting our land. For centuries, they guarded and cared for the stone towers, but then our people came and pushed their race far into the northern mountains. Almost overnight the wall of fog appeared, closing them away from humankind, inside this land we call Brume.”
“Dwarfs? What a load of muck,” he said with a yawn. “About as believable as faeries.”
Lia shook her head at him and snuggled into her covers, but in her silence, she contemplated his words. She thought of the fabled dwarfs dwelling in the hills of Rockberg, tending to the crystals, including the one in her garden. She gripped her pouch, the miniature quartz inside becoming more precious by the day. Then she closed her eyes and slipped into dreams of icy mountain caverns.
They rose at first light to warm, sweet air wafting across the meadow. Though they set off in a hurry, the near impenetrable forest slowed them. Merrie snorted as her mistress pulled her through the bracken and scrub, and Wynn swore like a fishmonger as he hacked through the dense brush. The long, tedious trek went on for hours, scraping and scratching, whipping at their faces and hands, until Lia’s mood turned as raw as her skin.
Then almost at once, the trees and undergrowth thinned and they were able to mount their horses. Lia pulled her cloak tight in the chilled air, the fae boundaries left far behind.
“There’s a clearing up ahead. I think we’re coming out of the woods.” Wynn hurried Nolan’s pace. “Whoa! What in spades?”
Lia charged Merrie up behind him, halting her at the edge of the barren landscape that stretched out before them. The sky loomed overhead, a swirl of cold gray to match the desolate ground below. She rubbed at the sudden droplets of rain pelting her face. Merrie flicked her head, snorting in the fusty air.
Lia slid from her horse and grabbed her crossbow. She held her foot in the metal stirrup jutting from the front of the bow, and spanned the string to the catch. “Best to be prepared,” she said, remounting Merrie. With the grove behind them, she wanted her weapon readied. Now, she could fit a bolt and shoot it on horseback.
“We need to get across this flat to the mountain range.” Wynn waved her to follow as Nolan bolted ahead.
Lia tightened up her cloak and loosened the reins on Merrie, galloping her across the grotty terrain. Lightning flashed across the sky and the plain left no buffer against the winds. She kept her head bent, and she shook with cold under her woolen layers.
“Let’s get up that trail, see if we can find cover.” Wynn’s voice barely carried across the wind. The narrow trail twisted up a steep ridge. A few ledges provided dismal barriers from the storm.
They climbed for hours before finding a deep enough alcove to tuck into for the night. The exhausted pair dismounted their horses, and the animals huddled close to the mountainside.
“We can at least lay out our cloaks to dry. The bedrolls should be all right, thanks to Kelven’s saddlebags,” Lia said, eager for her warm covering. Her heart tugged at the thought of Kelven. She pulled off her sodden cloak and wrung out the water from her hair.
Wynn retrieved their blankets and the pouch of jerked venison. “Kel treats the leather with this concoction of oils, rubs it down until it’s completely waterproof.” He wiped his face and shag of yellow hair with his blanket and then laid it across his lap.
He leaned back and gave Lia a sideways glance. “So, you and Kel, huh? Saw that heart he made you.”
Lia’s stomach flipped and she bit her lip. “What heart?”
“Etched on the saddlebag, underneath the flap.”
Lia got up and stepped over to Merrie. She lifted the front flap of the closest bag and her breath caught. A heart containing the letter ‘L’ embellished the soft leather. She sat back down and grabbed the bag of jerky, tore off a large piece, and handed it to Wynn. “Eat your supper,” she clipped, and he grinned like a fox.
She smiled inwardly and covered up with her blanket, wishing for a steaming mug of her evening brew—maythens and melissa blended with a hint of catmint. At least she was drying off, and the deer jerky filled her mouth with salty satisfaction.
“Thankfully, the Nion tree is on the first leg of these mountains. If we don’t get pummeled again tomorrow by the storm, we should make it to the crest by nightfall,” Wynn said. “Just hope the sea cliffs aren’t much farther west from there.”
“Hm-hmm.” Lia leaned her back against the wall of stone and tried to relax.
After hours of pelting rain and howling winds, the world finally went quiet. The peace lasted until dawn when Lia opened her eyes to a monster.
The rock giant peered down at Lia from black pits that rested above a bulbous nose and cave-like mouth. Rough and craggy, he towered over their shelter with the height of five men. The creature’s flesh seemed to crumble when he moved, pebbles and dust tumbling from his pores. In one massive fist, Wynn’s sword resembled a dagger, and in his other hung two sets of horse leads.
“Grmf Ezak Grk!” His voice grated against Lia’s ears, and her mind scrambled in fear.
The rock giant pointed a finger and motioned for her to move. She shook in horror, carefully rose, and stepped out of the crevice. Wynn stood near with his hands bound in what appeared to be vines.
“Frmp Ompa Slrk!” The giant waved his hand, gesturing for Lia and Wynn to walk ahead of him. He yanked on the horse leads and Merrie neighed loudly, the mare flipping her head up and down while Nolan bucked and snorted. None of their protesting did any good. They either followed in obedience or found themselves dragged up the mountain.
Surprisingly, Lia’s hands remained unbound, though the small freedom made escape no less impossible. The narrow path closed her in, a tight leash held Merrie, and even if she could get to her crossbow hanging from the saddle, her sharpest bolt could not penetrate the giant’s body.
She tried to swallow down her terror as the giant pulverized the mountainside with each step he took behind them. What does he want with us? To what end does this monster force us up the mountain? She’d read nothing of rock giants in the Grimoire, though she shivered in remembrance of a tune Granda sometimes sang:
’Twas high in the mountains when she ‘eard them rumble,
When the peaks did crumble, and stumble nigh.
The creature grunted to prod them along and they hurried as best they could, but the trail roughened, flanked by jutting walls that caught on cloth and skin. Only the giant traversed effortlessly over the terrain.
They climbed for hours without reprieve under a murky sky. Wynn slipped and fell more than once, covering his cloak in silt and scraping his bound hands raw. Lia’s body screamed in revolt. When she could push no farther, she halted and cried out, “Please, we need to rest.”
The giant stopped and stood guard over them like a crudely chiseled statue. Lia held her eyes on their captor while she eased herself onto a perch. Wynn nudged himself beside her.
“Here, drink this,” was all she dared to utter. She helped Wynn with her water skin and then used the edge of her cloak to wipe the sweat and dust from his face. Only their eyes spoke encouragement to one another. The giant watched expressionless, but as soon as they finished, he grumbled to move them along.
The trail snaked around the vast boulders, but the giant prodded them to climb straight up the rocks. Wynn slid and fell in his efforts to scale the knife-edged st
ones. “Ruddy spades!”
The giant swooped down his hand and scooped Wynn up like a sack of flour, tossing him over his shoulders. Lia gasped. “No! Let him go!”
A cold grunt and her cousin’s agonized moans assaulted Lia, and she knew there was nothing to do but keep moving. She winced at the horses’ screams, and watched the giant lift the animals, one in each hand, over the bone-breaking terrain. She could only wonder at his motive for keeping their animals safe.
Lia lumbered onward and weariness met with exasperation when the steepness of the mountain forced to her to climb on all fours. Through silt-filled tears, she saw the scarlet rivers on her torn hands. Every moment of climbing over the rocks drew more from her flesh and still the giant pushed her onward.
The day dragged across the sky and the dimly lit sun melted into the horizon. Lia’s body trembled in hunger and exhaustion, and Wynn groaned in pain from the ceaseless jostling. The mountain crest called to Lia and she pushed with every fiber to put an end to her climb.
In a rush of relief, she reached the top and dizzily scanned the view. The Sea of Morgandy stretched across the western horizon, dying rays of gold scattered across silver blue. She knew that somewhere near its edge dwelt the Great Nion. The empty flat and fae forest reached out to the south, and to the north, continued a vast array of snow-covered mountains poking at the sky. The east lay hidden, shrouded behind a wall of fog.
The giant dumped Wynn in a crumpled heap onto the ground, and then tore up several scraggy bushes. He lit them afire with a snap of his flint-stone fingers. Lia drew back at the spark he created, and gasped when he yanked the saddlebags off the horses and tossed them toward her. She stared quizzically at the creature while she pulled the bags close.
The rock giant loosened his hold on the horses and the animals lowered their noses. A stream of water trickled along a crack in the soil, just enough to satiate their thirst.
Lia bent down to Wynn and helped him sit upright. “You all right?”