The Paths of the Dead Page 33

  "In any case," broke in Zerika, "if Sethra's maps continue to be as true as they have been, then we are going no higher."

  "How, no higher?" said Piro. "And yet, we can plainly see peaks above us."

  "That is true, but we should soon run into the Blood River, which we will follow into the Greymist Valley. And, as we will be following a river, well, you perceive we must therefore go down."

  "Cha!" said Piro. "In this place, well, if the river were to flow up I should not be astonished."

  "For my part," said Kytraan, "neither would I."

  Zerika smiled, "Well, nevertheless, it behaves as other rivers do, at least in such mundane matters as choosing a direction in which to flow. However, do not drink the water."

  "I shall not, I assure you," said Piro.

  "Nor will I," said Kytraan.

  Tazendra, in the meantime, had been studying the area carefully. She turned back, frowning.

  "Your pardon, my dear Dzurlord," said Zerika, "but it seems to me that you are frowning."

  "Am I?" said Tazendra. "Well, I am not astonished at that."

  "How, are you perturbed?"

  "A little."

  "Then, have you failed to find the trail?"

  "Oh, no, the trail is exactly where it should be."

  "And then, what is the trouble?"

  "Exactly that."

  "I beg your pardon, my dear Tazendra, but I do not understand what you do me the honor to tell me."

  "We have found everything too easily, precisely where the map says it is, and, furthermore, with no opposition, either natural or human. We have only twice had to dismount to guide our horses up slopes, and only once has the weather been sufficiently inclement that we were forced to seek shelter, which shelter, you may remember, we found at once. We have not seen a single dragon in the mountains, nor have we heard the call of the dzur, nor even met a darr, though all of these beasts live here. Three times we passed what could have been bands of brigands, but they avoided us. We even saw an army of Easterners, but, as you recall, even they didn't come near us. I tell you plainly it worries me. A quest such as ours should not come so easily."

  Kytraan and Piro considered this remarkable reasoning, but Zerika only shrugged. "I think you have nothing to worry about, my friend. I am certain that, if everything is easy now, well, soon enough we will have enough opposition to satisfy even you."

  "How, you think so?"

  "I am convinced of it."

  "Well, I am satisfied, then. The trail will take us around that boulder, and I can even see the glint of water just beyond it."

  "And so you think—?"

  "That we have found the Blood River."

  "Then we are very nearly there."

  "Well," said Tazendra.

  Zerika urged her horse forward and others followed.

  It has been suggested that the Blood River got its name because of its reddish tint; an absurd notion when one considers that all bodies of water beneath the Enclouding have, to one degree or another, a reddish tint. Others have claimed that it is, in fact, a river of blood: that somehow the blood from those who pass over the falls finds its way, perhaps through hidden springs, back up into the Ash Mountains. While this has never been proven or disproven by investigation, this historian begs leave to doubt it. In this case, as in so many others, the simplest explanation is probably the truth: The Blood River is an obvious, if fanciful, name for the body of water that passes through the Greymist Valley and flows over Deathgate Falls to the Paths of the Dead.

  The Greymist Valley itself stretches some twenty or twenty-five miles, beginning next to Hanging Mountain, and continuing past the next of the three peaks that, still part of the Eastern Mountains, are together called the Ash Mountains. This next mountain is called Gyffer's Peak, and it, of the three, is the one beside which the greatest channel has been cut by the fast-flowing Blood River. The valley has never been inhabited save by various vegetation and the meaner sorts of wildlife, yet it is a picturesque enough setting, with the dark mountains looming above on both sides, the snowy caps of Gyffer's Peak behind, and the soft green of Round Mountain before.

  Gyffer's Peak, in general, has rather gentle slopes, and, unlike the others, is even populated upon some of its lower slopes, though not, as we said, in the valley itself. But there are several villages on the west side where coffee beans are grown. In the days of the Empire, these beans were often brought overland to the Eastern River or to the Spearhead Channel and thus to the Kieron's Sea. Needless to say, this economy has collapsed with Adron's Disaster, and so the villages were, at this time, all but deserted, which led Tazendra to remark, "Perhaps, on our return journey, we can stop and gather some coffee beans, for I am told the very best beans come from this district."

  "Perhaps," said Zerika. "Yet it seems you are likely to be too busy on the return for such excursions."

  "Then you think there will be trouble."

  "It seems likely enough."

  "Then I am satisfied."

  "I beg your pardon," said Piro to Zerika, "but it seems to me that you have said, 'you.'"

  "Well, and is it not a perfectly good word?"

  "Oh, as to that, I say nothing against the word."

  "And then?"

  "But I worry about implications."

  "Ah! Implications!"

  "Yes. That is to say, it would seem as if you imply that you will not be with us on the return."

  "How, had you thought I would be?"

  "I must admit, that was my assumption."

  "And mine," said Kytraan.

  "And mine," said Tazendra.

  "Well," said Zerika, "but, while it may be possible to descend Deathgate Falls, it is not possible to return by climbing up it again."

  "It is not?" said Piro.

  "So I am informed by Sethra Lavode, who should know, I think."

  "Well, but then," said Kytraan, "where will you be?"

  "Oh, as to that, I have not the least idea in the world, I assure you."

  "You don't know where you will be?" said Kytraan.

  Zerika shrugged. "Sethra has told me that, if I succeed and am permitted to leave the Halls of Judgment, I could emerge anywhere. There is no way to predict."

  Tazendra, Kytraan, and Piro all looked at each other. Piro then cleared has throat and said, "So you will appear somewhere, and be entirely on your own?"

  "Yes," said Zerika.

  "In that case," said Piro, "I shall descend the Falls with you."

  "As will I," said Tazendra.

  "And I," said Kytraan.

  "No," said Zerika, "you will not."

  Piro said, "And yet—"

  "I may," said Zerika, "or may not be able to emerge from the Halls of Judgment with the Orb. But it is certain you will not."

  Kytraan said, "But—"

  "You will die," said Zerika. "Sethra knows that as certainly as she knows anything."

  "Oh," said Tazendra, "that is of no concern."

  "And yet," said Zerika, "should you die, and be held in the Paths of the Dead, well, you will be able to do me no good in any case."

  "That is true," said Piro. "Nevertheless—"

  "There is no nevertheless," said Zerika. "I have decided."

  "And yet—"

  "The matter is settled," said the Phoenix.

  None of them had heard Zerika speak in such a tone before; especially to Piro, who had known her the longest. It startled him in no small degree to hear his old friend, who had always been of a quiet and retiring nature, speak with such finality and certainty, as if her word were law, and a final decision was made simply because she declared it so. Piro stared at her, Kytraan nodded dumbly, and Tazendra sighed and shrugged, and so the matter was settled. Behind them, Mica and Lar exchanged looks, but, of course, neither dared to enter into the conversation.

  There was then little sound as they rode, though the Blood River, making its swift way over rocks and boulders, created its own sort of ceaseless music that was not unple
asant.

  Some hours later they heard a steady crashing sound that Piro recognized as coming from a waterfall. "Is that it?" he said, straining to look forward in the growing dusk.

  Zerika frowned. "It shouldn't be. If the map tells the truth, we have yet another ten or twelve miles before we reach it."

  In fact, they soon reached a waterfall, in which the Blood River went crashing over the lip in a great torrent to land amid spray and fine mist some hundred feet below. They stopped and admired it from an overhanging cliff for some time, then turned to continue on the path. As they did so, Mica said, "Hello."

  Tazendra turned to him. "What is it, Mica? For I perceive you have spoken."

  In answer, the lackey pointed behind them. They all looked in the indicated direction.

  "What is it?" said Tazendra after a moment. "I see nothing."

  "Mistress, I saw what seemed to be several horsemen in the valley behind us."

  "How many?" said Zerika.

  "I am uncertain, my lady."

  "How far behind?" said Tazendra.

  "I am a poor judge of distances, mistress, yet it was a long way; I could not make out figures clearly, only that, for a moment, it seemed that there were several horses and riders silhouetted upon that ridge."

  Zerika turned to the Dzurlord. "Well?"

  Tazendra shrugged. "If he says he saw them, well, I, for one, believe him."

  "Very well," said Zerika. "Then we will leave the path, and will rest without a fire tonight."

  To this, the others agreed without complaint, though it was a trial, especially on Lar, who had been taking a certain pleasure in preparing simple yet tasteful meals as they traveled.

  They left the path, then, and dismounted, leading their horses some hundred meters up into the mountains, and, eschewing Tazendra's sorcerous abilities, they arranged for each of them to spend an hour on watch, looking to see if anyone came near them during the night. While they didn't see anyone, Kytraan, during his watch, fancied he heard, very faintly, the sound of horses' hooves. While he did not wake up the camp, he mentioned it the next morning as they prepared to resume their journey.

  "Well," said Piro, shrugging. "There is nothing to do but go on."

  "With this I agree," said Zerika.

  Returning to the trail once more, they looked carefully, but saw nothing. Zerika pulled her cloak more closely around her against the morning chill, then glanced up at the heavy Enclouding. "The wind is from the west," she remarked.

  "Is that an omen, do you think?" asked Tazendra.

  Zerika shrugged.

  They discovered as they rode that, some time after passing the waterfall, they had, in fact, left Gyffer's Peak, and were now on Round Mountain. The Blood River, once more flowing on their right, was slower and wider, as if gathering itself for the great plunge that it knew was coming.

  "Do you know," remarked Tazendra as they rode, "from a distance, the mountain appears quite green; yet I see nothing here except grey rocks."

  "Well," said Kytraan, "perhaps we are above the greenery."

  "Look up there," said Piro. "What is that?"

  "It is not green," said Tazendra.

  "It appears," said Kytraan, "to be either a particularly odd formation of stone, or else a sculpture, though of what I cannot say."

  "It is a phoenix," said Zerika coolly.

  They came closer and found that it was, indeed, a sculpture of a phoenix, and one, moreover, that appeared to have survived the ages with no wearing away whatsoever. Zerika stopped and dismounted, then knelt before it, her head bowed; and she spoke very quietly, as if addressing it. The others remained mounted, back a certain distance, and silent.

  When Zerika had finished, and was climbing onto her horse (unaided, we should add, except for a convenient rock lying near to the path), Tazendra said, "Do you hear something?"

  Piro nodded. "I believe it may be the sound of a waterfall up ahead."

  Kytraan said, "Would that be—?"

  "Yes," said Zerika. "We have arrived."

  They urged their horses forward, and soon reached another statue, this one showing a jhegaala in its winged form, just taking to the air.

  They passed more statuary. When they reached the tiassa, which was poised upon its hind legs, wings outspread, Piro wondered if he were supposed make a sort of obeisance; but not knowing, he contented himself with removing his hat as he passed by it. Shortly thereafter they passed the sculpture of the dragon, showing only its head; Kytraan bowed to it as they moved on. They passed the marker of a hawk, not caught in flight, as was its depiction in the Cycle, but standing, posed, looking back toward Deathgate Falls, which was now clearly audible, though still muffled.

  They followed the river through a curve, the sound of the Falls becoming ever louder, and soon passed a larger-than-life sculpture of a man, standing naked, sword in hand, looking back away from the Falls.

  "Kieron the Conqueror," said Zerika. "The first human to pass this way. Sethra says he still remains in the Paths, waiting for his time."

  Kytraan removed his hat and solemnly saluted the statue. Piro said, "With the Empire fallen, well, I wonder what better time there would be."

  Zerika shrugged.

  The river seemed to be picking up speed now, as if suddenly in a hurry to reach the Falls and be done with its journey at last. Nearby was the dzur, which, like the dragon, showed only the head of the beast, mouth open as if to tear at the observer's throat. Just beyond it was the lip of Deathgate Falls. Seen from the top, it appeared, as a waterfall often will, to be utterly harmless, just a place where the water picked up speed, broke into occasional frothy whitecaps, and disappeared out of sight, without the least indication of the distance it would fall, nor what waited beneath. The west bank of the lip, dominated by the dzur's head, was a semicircular clearing of around forty or fifty feet in diameter; it almost seemed to have been carved out of the rock to provide a place for any last rituals before the body of a departed friend or family member was given to the Falls. And, indeed, perhaps this was the case, for there are mysteries surrounding Deathgate Falls that the historian will make no claims to have solved.

  The travelers approached the lip and looked over it, seeing nothing below except thick mist.

  "How far down is it?" asked Piro.

  "No one knows," said Zerika.

  "Well," said Kytraan. "What now?"

  "I must consider," said Zerika, "the best way to descend."

  As they considered, they were startled by loud cries, like screams or screeches. All of them looked around, until at last Tazendra said, "Above us."

  They looked up, and saw four or five shapes circling overhead.

  "Jhereg," said Zerika.

  "Has something died?" said Tazendra.

  "When they see activity here, they know there is usually a corpse nearby," said Zerika.

  "And yet," said Kytraan, "it would seem that they would hesitate to attempt to feed upon a corpse when it is surrounded by men."

  "These are not the jhereg of the jungles or the cities," said Zerika. "They are much higher up, and, consequently, larger, than they seem."

  "Oh," said Piro. "Should we be worried?"

  "No," said Zerika. "Soon they will realize that there is no scent of a corpse, and they will not bother us. They will not attack a living man."

  "In fact," said Kytraan, "I am just as glad that they will not."

  "Well," said Tazendra, shrugging.

  Zerika turned her attention back to Deathgate Falls.

  "How will you get down?" said Piro.

  "I am considering that very question," said Zerika.

  "How, did you not discuss it with Sethra?"

  "Well, we did discuss it, only—"

  "Yes?"

  "We did not arrive at a conclusion."

  "A conclusion," pronounced Tazendra, "would be good."

  "We have rope," said Zerika. "We could tie it to one of the sculptures and I could lower myself that way."

  "Ha
ve you sufficient rope?" said Piro.

  "Two thousand feet," said Zerika. "If that isn't enough, well, then I can always let go. Jumping was an option we considered."

  "Not seriously, I hope," said Kytraan.

  "Entirely seriously. It is placing myself in the hands of the gods."

  "And yet—"

  "It was not," said Zerika, "our first choice."

  "Well," said Piro. "I, for one, am glad that it was not."

  "I agree," said Kytraan, "because if you jump—oh."

  Piro looked at him. "Oh?"

  Rather than giving him an answer, Kytraan pointed back the way they had come.

  "Horsemen," said Tazendra.

  "Several of them," agreed Piro.

  Mica, with the attitude of a man who had been in such situations many times, coolly untied his bar-stool from his saddle and held it ready in his hand.

  "You think there will be trouble?" said Lar.

  "It is possible," said Mica, doing his best to imitate his mistress's manner at such times, and, we must admit, making an entirely credible job of it.

  "Well," said Lar, and, taking a deep breath, began to dig around in his saddle-pockets.

  Zerika said, "How many of them are there?"

  Tazendra stood up in her stirrups, as if a little additional height would give her better vision. "Perhaps a dozen," she said.

  "Do you think they wish to stop us?" said Kytraan.

  "As to that," said Piro, "who can say?"

  "Soon we will know," said Tazendra, and gently rolled her shoulders, the significance of which we trust the reader remembers.

  "The question," said Zerika, "is whether we ought to wait and find out."

  "I believe," said Piro, "that the question is, have we any other choice?"

  "That, too, is a good question," said Kytraan.

  "If we charge them," said Tazendra, "then, well, all will soon be settled."

  "That is true," said Zerika. "And yet, what if their intentions toward us are friendly?"

  "Or their presence could be entirely unrelated to us," said Kytraan. "Consider that we are at Deathgate Falls, where for millennia bodies have been brought to attempt passage to the Halls of Judgment."

  "Perhaps," said Zerika. "But how many expeditions to Deathgate have you heard of since Adron's Disaster?"

  "Well, it is true that there have not been many, but nevertheless—"