James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

‘There is a wonderful clarity to your mind, isn’t there? It never allows for the possibility of defeat.’

Auum regarded Stein, wondering if he was being mocked. He shrugged.

‘Those who entertain the possibility of defeat will always suffer the reality.’

There was a silence while Stein digested his words.

‘A sound philosophy.’

‘Can you fly in this wind?’ asked Merrat.

‘It’s borderline but I think so. Carrying elves down will help, I think, given the extra weight. We’ll have to-’

‘Spread yourselves on your bellies! Dig, don’t scratch. Do it now!’

Ulysan’s shouts ripped across the calm of the slope. Auum stood and spun round, Merrat with him and Stein rising more carefully. Three had fallen, one having slipped and grabbed the others to steady himself so bringing them all down. They were in an untidy heap rotating slowly and gathering speed on the slope only fifty yards from the drop.

Ulysan was chasing them, bursting through the line of now stationary walkers and shufflers and heading across the slope to try and catch them. Auum’s heart was in his mouth; Ulysan was going too fast. He set off too but Merrat was ahead of him.

‘My people,’ he said. ‘I’ve got this.’

He skated away, his movements fluid and his speed increasing quickly as he moved at an angle to intercept the flailing elven trio, none of whom could drive a knife into the ice to slow their progress.

‘Spread yourselves out!’ called Auum, setting off along the edge, his feet finding purchase hard to come by and the ice ridges cracking under his feet. ‘On your bellies and use those knives!’

Merrat was closing on them fast but they were starting to panic. They were clutching one another rather than fighting their instincts and spreading themselves as wide as they could to gain maximum friction. He saw one knife strike hard into the ice, but the blade snapped and the Il-Aryn shrieked with frustration and fear.

Fifteen yards before they reached the edge of the precipice, Merrat dived full length, catching one of them about the chest.

‘Hang on to each other and spread out!’ he ordered.

Instead they tried climbing over each other to reach him. Merrat stabbed hard at the ice, scoring a trench. The blade shrieked as he pushed harder, slowing them but not enough. Auum ran faster, trusting his feet, whispering a prayer to Tual to keep him upright.

‘Merrat! You have to get your other knife in! You’re going too fast.’

Merrat tried to turn his body. ‘Hold on to my legs, let me free my arm!’

But the Il-Aryn were lost to reason. Two had hold of Merrat and the third was clutching for him, denying him the chance to save them.

‘Let him go!’ roared Auum. He was closing but nowhere near quickly enough. ‘He has to use his other knife! Listen to me!’

The first elf’s feet slipped over the precipice. He wailed and grabbed again and again at the clothing of the others while his momentum carried him further over. It was horribly slow to Auum’s eyes but the end was inevitable.

‘Shove them off!’ cried Auum. ‘Merrat, you have to stop your slide! You’re going over!’

Ulysan thumped down, grabbing Merrat’s knife hand and driving the blade in a little further. He was spreadeagled at right angles to Merrat and his other hand swept down with a desperate force, the knife clutched in it finding a crack and wedging hard.

‘I’ve got you, Merrat,’ said Ulysan. ‘I’ve got you.’

‘Hang on!’ called Merrat as they slowed dramatically.

The two clutching Merrat gripped harder, and the one over the drop swung out lazily, his legs scrabbling at the precipice and his hands knotted in the trouser legs of another. They crunched to a halt. Auum slithered to a stop above them.

‘Nobody move. Hold fast, hold your nerve and you’ll live.’

Marack, Nokhe and Hohan slid down and knelt to haul the Il-Aryn back to safety. Then they moved the elf away, who was sobbing his apologies and thanking Yniss for his rescue.

‘Never mind Yniss, thank Merrat,’ muttered Auum.

He walked past Merrat, reaching down to squeeze his shoulder. The other two Il-Aryn were detached from Merrat, who dragged himself to his knees and brushed the ice from his jacket. Ulysan had rolled onto his back, and Auum knelt in front of him, leaning in to kiss his forehead and eyes.

‘You did it, Ulysan. You saved them all from falling.’

There were tears in Ulysan’s eyes, like the welling-up of memories.

‘I did,’ he said. ‘This time I could reach them.’

Auum reached down a hand. ‘But remember there are some times when you cannot.’

Ulysan took his hand and stood. Merrat pushed Auum aside and hugged the big TaiGethen.

‘You saved me, brother.’

‘Any time,’ said Ulysan.

Auum turned to Stein, who was walking slowly towards them.

‘Get us down off this mountain. I don’t think my heart can take any more.’

‘How far to Sky Lake?’ asked Auum.

They had descended the precipice without further incident and Auum had led long and passionate prayers of thanks for their deliverance to Yniss, Gyal and Ix. It felt wonderfully warm and calm at the base of the mountains. Auum had stared up at the snow plain where they had stood so recently, wondering what madness had led him to think it had been a good plan.

Yet here they were: depleted, drained and hungry but very much back in control. They were hidden from enemy eyes by the jagged rock formations that surrounded them, and while rocks were gathered to be heated for a thin stew made from everything they had left, most of the elves were lying down wherever they could find a spot. Auum didn’t blame them one bit.

‘At your pace, less than two days. But Tilman can’t fly so we should make whatever progress we can this afternoon and expect to get there late the day after tomorrow. Some of yours might need a good rest now too.’

Auum glared at the trio of Il-Aryn who had so nearly cost Merrat his life. Overconfident, they had been messing about, sliding and braking until one of them had done it once too often. Rith had dismissed it as simple over-exuberance and the row that had ensued had set birds to flight.

‘They’ll move when I say. Apparently they have no shortage of energy to burn.’

‘They almost died,’ said Stein. ‘I know it was their fault but-’

‘So did Merrat. I will not mother them, Stein. Do you see him whining?’

Merrat was sitting with Ulysan, explaining the finer points of ice skating, or so it appeared. Ulysan was smiling again, though his eyes were still haunted. Perhaps he had something to thank those idiots for after all.

‘The TaiGethen are a different breed,’ said Stein.

‘Yes, we are cursed with honour.’

‘I. . oh.’ Stein blew out his cheeks and put a hand out to steady himself. ‘It’s-’

Auum grabbed him and helped him sit. ‘Are you all right?’

Stein nodded. ‘Communion. Wait.’

Auum watched, moving away a couple of paces, uncomfortable with the weight of magic he could feel emanating from his friend. Stein’s eyes closed but beneath his lids moved as if searching for something. His mouth moved too but no sound came. He frowned, the colour leaving his face, and he bit at his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He swallowed and his face hardened. His body relaxed and he opened his eyes, the contact broken.

‘So?’

Stein looked up at him, taking a moment to focus his eyes and his thoughts.

‘It’s bleak news,’ he said and Auum’s heart fell. ‘The Wesmen have landed in large numbers north of Julatsa and are marching to lay siege to the city. It’s a similar picture in the south though we assume Xetesk won’t be beset — mind you, this might be the Wytch Lord’s gambit.’