Ridge felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot tea he was drinking. He wanted to tell her she had a right to such treatment from him because she was his wife, but he was afraid she would misinterpret his words and think he was talking about duty and obligation again. So he merely nodded his head as casually as possible and said, “I appreciate the tea.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. Then Kalena smiled tentatively and turned to finish her packing.
A short while later, Ridge finished fastening the travel bags to the creet saddles, double-checked the saddle buckles, and handed one set of reins to Kalena. She took them with gloved hands. The morning air was chill with the promise of mountain snow. In addition to her gloves she wore a fur-lined travel cloak over her riding clothes, the hood pulled up over her head. Ridge too wore a lined cloak and warm, flexible lanti skin gloves. The creets fluffed out their feathers to insulate themselves against the cold and pranced forward with their usual willingness.
Kalena glanced back at the quiet inn as Ridge led the way out of the yard. “I’m glad you changed your mind about yelling at the entire Village Council,” she said.
“I didn’t change my mind,” he informed her arrogantly. “I just didn’t want to waste any more time.”
“Yes, of course,” she murmured, hiding a tiny smile. “We wouldn’t want to waste any more time. All the same, thank you for restraining yourself.”
He glanced back. “You would have been embarrassed, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I’m quite sure the Village Council had nothing to do with the failure of those lamps last night. Furthermore, I met some nice women in the spa and I would have felt awkward if you had turned around this morning and humiliated them by using your clout against their husbands.”
Ridge shook his head. “Women,” he muttered, but he sounded oddly indulgent.
Kalena breathed a sigh of relief and reached down to stroke her creet’s neck feathers. Diplomacy, she was discovering, was another useful skill for a wife. It occurred to her that last night was not the first time she had managed to douse the Fire Whip’s temper. She really was getting quite proficient at the task.
The wind that swept through the mountains had a definite bite to it now. The creets climbed higher and higher into the pass, following the old trail that had been carved out by the first High Healers when they had decided to move into the mountain reaches. Even during the height of summer, this trail could be chilly. The snow on the peaks of the Heights of Variance never completely disappeared.
When Ridge called a halt for lunch he took the time to build a small fire so that Kalena could prepare a warming mug of tea. He stood watching as she carefully boiled the water and added the yant leaves.
“We should reach the wall of white mist the caravans complained about by tomorrow evening if we continue at this pace,” he remarked thoughtfully.
“Where do we camp tonight?”
“There are some shelters along the trail built by the early traders. Creet rations are kept stocked in them along with emergency supplies. We’ll stop at one this evening.”
Kalena nodded and finished the meal preparations. “I’m glad we won’t have to spend the night out in the open. It’s so cold here.”
Ridge smiled faintly. “You don’t have to worry, Kalena. I wouldn’t force my wife to sleep in the snow.”
“Very reassuring.”
The shelter they located just before the early mountain dusk descended was reasonably cozy once the lamps had been lit and Ridge had built a fire on the hearth. Stable space for the creets adjoined the main room, enabling the animals to share the warmth of the fire. The proximity of the animals didn’t bother Kalena. For one thing, she had spent too much time in a farming community to be offended by the idea of sharing space with animals. For another, she was simply too tired to think much about it. If Ridge chose to claim his marital rights tonight, he would have to find some method of keeping her awake first. She was sound asleep before he returned from checking the creets.
Kalena had expected nightmares after the previous evening’s horrors, but she had suffered none so far. The mountains around them were cold, but the temperature was the natural chill of approaching snow. Kalena shifted slightly when Ridge got into bed beside her. She felt his arms go around her waist before she drifted back into sleep.
They reached the wall of white mist the following day, just as the last of the sun’s rays slipped behind a high peak. Kalena knew immediately that the mist was no ordinary cloud caught among the mountains. She reined in her creet behind Ridge and stared at the veil of glistening whiteness that stretched completely across the pass.
On either side of the trail the mountains rose in stark, snowcapped peaks that were impossible to ascend. Nor was there any way around the ridges into the valley on the other side. The High Healers had chosen a well protected location and they had sealed the only entrance with a wall of snow colored mist.
“So this is what the traders meant,” Ridge said softly as he swung himself out of the saddle and went forward to examine the barrier. “I thought they must have been talking about snow or clouds that had somehow blocked the pass. But this is no natural mist.” He put out a hand to touch the shimmering wall and instantly yanked it back, swearing quietly.
“What’s wrong?” Kalena asked. She dismounted and went to stand beside him. “Is your hand all right?”
“Damn Healers,” Ridge muttered, shaking his hand as if to rid it of something that still clung. “Yeah, it’s all right. What in the name of the Stones have those women done?”
“They’ve sealed themselves off from Quintel’s traders.”
“Obviously, but why? And how? What is this white stuff?” Ridge paced across the width of the pass peering closely at the curtain of white. He pulled his sintar out of its sheath and probed cautiously at the veil.
The reaction was immediate. The sintar glowed in his hand, just as if he had somehow activated it in the heat of fury. Ridge stared at the blade in amazement, knowing that for the first time the steel had responded to something other than his rage. Slowly, the glow died and he resheathed the weapon.
“This could get tricky,” he finally announced.
“Let me try” Kalena said impulsively.
“No, wait, Kalena, I don’t want you—”
But it was too late. Kalena had already reached out to touch the white mist. Her hand went into it easily with no obvious effect, disappearing up to her wrist. “It’s like touching fog,” she said wonderingly. Slowly, she withdrew her fingers. They felt fine. “I don’t think this is going to be any problem at all, Ridge.”
“Kalena, several trading caravans led by experienced traders have been turned back by this stuff. One trade master didn’t return at all. Don’t be too sure of yourself.”
She glanced back at him, confidence flowing through her. “But I am sure of myself, Ridge. Very sure. You brought me along to get you through this veil, didn’t you?”
“You’re here to deal with the Healers,” he stated. “Not to take chances. I’m the one who’s paid to take the chances.”
“But to deal with the High Healers, I have to go through this.” She turned back to the white mist and stepped into it before Ridge realized exactly what she was doing.
“Kalena!”
His anxious shout faded almost instantly as Kalena moved into the mist. It closed gently around her, cutting off all sound and all sensation. She no longer felt the mountain chill. She felt nothing except a sense of peace. She felt as if she were suspended in a universe of shimmering white. There was no feeling of impending danger as there had been with the black mist in the caverns. Just the opposite, in fact. Here lay safety and serenity and warmth.
Opposites. Natural opposites. When one existed, so must the other. All things on the Spectrum seek their natural states of balance.
The words drifted through Kalena’s mind as she floated in the strange cloud. This glistening white veil was
the opposite of what she had encountered last night. The exact counterpoint to that dark, endless cold.
Kalena moved her hands and looked down at them. She could see her gloved fingers clearly, so she wasn’t completely devoid of sensation. Carefully, she took a pace forward, unable to see the rocky path on which she must be standing. She stretched out her hand, wondering how thick the veil was. Her fingers disappeared. She moved forward again, following them. At least she thought she was moving forward. There was no true sense of direction in the mist.
Two more paces brought her through to the other side. She emerged from the shimmering white barrier and found herself looking down into the greenest valley she had ever seen. It was a small valley, with steep canyon walls embracing it and its cluster of cottages. Fields of flowers, herbs and vegetables were laid out from one side of the valley to the other. The cottages were dotted about in a pleasantly random arrangement, smoke wafting invitingly from the chimneys. The path on which Kalena was standing descended easily into the heart of the valley. This was the chosen home of the High Healers. She would have known that without being told. Some part of her recognized this place—recognized it and responded to it. For a moment Kalena simply stood and stared in wonder, and then she remembered Ridge.
Without any hesitation, Kalena stepped back into the mist. It swirled around her as before, but this time she kept moving. A moment later she stepped out on the other side and found herself in front of Ridge.
“What happened in there?” he asked tightly. The tension on his face was obvious.
“Nothing. I just walked through to the other side. It’s a little disorienting, but not too difficult to move through the mist. Let me see if I can lead you through.” She reached for his hand.
“I don’t know, Kalena. I couldn’t even touch the stuff a few minutes ago. It may be something only a woman can pass through. You may have to go contact the Healers yourself and see if they’ll let me through.”
“I’ll try taking a creet first,” Kalena suggested, reaching for a set of reins.
The creet stopped at the wall of mist, opened its beak and stuck out its tongue as if to taste the shimmering barrier. Kalena waited until it had satisfied itself that there was no danger and then she stepped through, tugging on the reins. The creet followed obediently. On the far side she tied the reins around a small rock and went back for Ridge and his animal.
“The creet went right through with no trouble. Come on, Ridge. Try it.”
His mouth hardened but he didn’t argue further. He put his hand in hers and allowed Kalena to lead him right up to the wall of white. She stepped in, but when she tried to pull him after her there was a sudden, fierce resistance. He snatched his hand from her grasp and Kalena turned to find herself alone in the mist. She walked back out and stood staring at him. Ridge was cradling his hand, his jaw rigid with pain.
“It’s not going to work” he said grimly. “You’ll have to go on by yourself and see if you can talk the Healers into letting me through.”
“Something’s wrong.” Kalena frowned thoughtfully.
“You can say that again.”
She shook her head. “No, something’s wrong with you. There’s something that’s keeping you from following me into the mist.”
“I’m a man. The Healers have probably rigged this thing to keep out males. Typical piece of female idiocy.”
Kalena ignored that, her mind concentrating on the problem. She knew instinctively that she should be able to lead Ridge through the mist. There was something on him that was interfering. “Have you still got that black glass pendant with you? The one you took off that man who attacked us?”
His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
“Get rid of it.”
“Kalena, that’s ridiculous. It’s just a piece of glass. It can’t possibly have anything to do with this nonsense. This is women’s trickery.”
“And that glass is male trickery. Get rid of it, Ridge. She was absolutely certain now. “You must throw it away before you can go through the mist.”
“Dammit to both ends of the Spectrum,” he sighed as he reached into his cloak. He removed the black glass pendant and let it dangle from his fingers. “I don’t see why you’re so upset about this thing, but if it makes you happy, I’ll get rid of it.” He turned and flung the pendant far behind him. It landed several meters away on the trail. There was a tinkling sound as the glass broke.
“Now,” Kalena stated with conviction. “You can pass through the mist now” She reached for his hand.
“Let’s just hope I don’t lose my hand completely this time,” Ridge muttered as he made to follow her once more. “I have plans for this hand, you know”
But this time nothing stopped him. Leading his creet, Ridge followed Kalena into the shimmering veil and out onto the other side.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Ridge stood gazing down at the green valley below.
“Remember this when it comes time to hand over my share of the Sand,” Kalena said loftily. “I want it clear that I earned it.”
Eleven
Kalena and Ridge were halfway down the trail that led into the green gem of a valley when they became aware of the change in temperature. The closer they got to the valley floor, the warmer the atmosphere became. Clearly, the valley of the High Healers was a warm oasis protected by a natural fortress of mountains and snow.
“The people of Hot And Cold are right,” Kalena decided aloud. “Somewhere in this valley lies the source of the hot springs back in the caverns. I can feel it.”
“Woman’s intuition?” There was a faint mockery in Ridge’s voice.
“Perhaps.” Kalena shrugged. Ridge had been very silent since she had led him through the wall of white mist. She had the distinct impression that the closer they got to the village of the High Healers, the more uneasy he became. For her it was just the opposite. She knew her reaction was meant to counter his. “Look, Ridge, there are people in the fields.”
He reined in his creet and studied the gentle scene that lay before them. Women moved among the rows of beautiful plants and flowers, tending the rich gardens. “I think,” Ridge said finally, “that you had better go first. I get the feeling it’s expected around here.” He shifted a bit in the saddle. “This is a female place.”
“Yes,” Kalena agreed with confidence. “It is.” She urged her creet forward without any hesitation, aware of a deep eagerness.
A few minutes later, they reached a narrow path that led between a row of perfectly plotted gardens. A woman dressed in a full, flowing pastel tunic looked up and lifted her hand in welcome. She wore the Healer’s traditional tiny brazier and pouch of Sand on her belt. She was much older than Kalena, her silvered hair caught in a white mesh snood. She moved with vigor and strength as she started toward Kalena.
Kalena drew the creet to a halt and dismounted as the woman approached. Inclining her head respectfully, she introduced herself. “I am Kalena and this is my husband, Ridge. We have come a long way to talk to you and your people.”
The woman’s smile was warm as she touched Kalena on the shoulder. “Welcome, Kalena, daughter of the House of the Ice Harvest. We have waited a long time for you.”
Kalena’s hands tightened around the reins she was holding. “You know who I am?”
“We know. I am Valica of the High Healers. It is my honor to welcome you to our village.” She turned to Ridge. “And this is the man you have chosen?”
Ridge nodded, distantly polite as he swung down from the saddle. “I’m Kalena’s husband. I’m here on behalf of Trade Baron Quintel.”
“Of course. So Lord Quintel finally grew impatient enough to act, hmm? He should have known that only a very special woman and her chosen mate could make it through the barrier. We certainly gave him enough hints. But men can be very stubborn.” Valica turned, motioning with her hand. “Come with me. I will show you to your cottage. You have had a long trip and you must rest. There will be time later to talk.”
&nb
sp; Valica led them down the path toward one of the many little cottages that were scattered about the valley. The small house was square and constructed of a warm colored stone. There were windows, instead of wooden shutters, and a charming, flowering garden.
“There are stables for the creets. When you have unsaddled, I will take the birds and feed them for you.”
Ridge’s eyes narrowed faintly. “I’ll see to the creets.”
“It is not necessary, Trade Master Ridge. I will take care of them.”
“I do not wish to be rude, Healer, but I make it a practice to take care of my own creets on a trip.” Ridge unbuckled the travel bags as he spoke.
“As you wish,” Valica said politely. “The stables are over there.” She pointed to a small structure behind the cottage. “There is food and water for the birds. By the time the two of you have bathed and rested it will be the hour of the evening meal. You are invited to join us. We meet in the large hall near the herb gardens.”
“Thank you, Valica,” Kalena said quickly, before Ridge could find something else to argue about. “We will see you at the evening meal.”
Valica nodded and left. Kalena turned on Ridge, who was unpacking the travel gear with a grim air.
“You brought me along to deal with the Healers, Ridge. Please allow me to do my job. Things will go much more smoothly if you don’t argue over every little thing. She was only offering to care for the creets out of politeness. There was no need for you to take a stand on the matter. Valica’s hardly likely to steal our birds.”
Ridge shot her a cool glance as he picked up the bags and started toward the door. “How do you know?”
“Ridge, you’re being ridiculous. What’s the matter with you, anyway?”
He sighed, opening the door to reveal a room that was furnished with elegant simplicity. A pallet, a low, round table, cushions, two fireside stools, and a graceful, flowering plant were laid out in serene order. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “If you want to know the truth, I don’t like this place. It makes me edgy.”