And that shut Arlins trap good and tight. Rafel stood. Seems weve a mite to do, then, Barlsman. Best we get to it, cause the sooner we leave, the sooner we get the good folk of Lur off that b.l.o.o.d.y precipice. He turned to Arlin. Agreed, Lord Garrick?

Have I a choice? Arlin said sourly. Its agreed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

They had one day to ready themselves. One single, rainy day to breathe in the last they might ever see of their loved ones. Of home. Trying not to dwell on that, Rafel prepared for the arduous journey. Kept himself busy so there wasnt time to think. When he was done, his bulky pack was full of jerky, hard-baked biscuits and nuts, the kind of food that would sustain him in the arduous climb over the mountains. Two canvas waterskins. Two spare shirts. Spare socks and underdrawers. Heavy leather gloves. A talking stone like the one Pintte and Baden had taken with them, strong enough to reach the Council. Flint and striker. A canvas groundsheet. To go with the pack, he collected a stout walking stick, a knife, a coil of ropeand a sword. That prompted a grim smile. Hed had to dig through piles of mouldering relics in the old palace to find it. Swords belonged to the long-dead time of Trevoyles Schism. Cleaned and sharpened, its scabbard saddle-soaped then oiled, the weapon was a stark reminder of the dangers hed be facing.

Last, and most important, he had Tollins parchment, folded small, and the collection of spells taken from Durms secret library. They were rolled tight and tucked safely out of sight, for he didnt dare let Arlin get a glimpse of them. It would make learning them trickybut hed find a way. He had to.

The whole frantic day, he didnt see his family. Suffering, Deenie stayed in her chamber. And MamaMama stayed with Da. They didnt even share a farewell supper. The Tower was full of silence, and dread. So he ate alone, and sat alone, and used the time before sleeping to study Durms spells.

Sunrise came meanly, murky behind the low clouds. Watery light seeping to the ground, seeping between the partly drawn curtains in his fathers chamber. Brought to this terrible moment at last, Rafel sat by the bed.

Sweet air. Cool silence. Not enough words. More words than he could count. This man. This man. Who loved him. Who lied to him. Who trusted him with his life. Who put him on his first pony. Held his hand. Wiped his tears.

Da Nowt had changed. Weeks slid by since the Weather Chamber, and nowt had b.l.o.o.d.y changed. Da just lay there, not speaking, not moving. Morning and afternoon, Kerril or Mama spooned gruel down his gullet, fed him possets and potions meant to keep him alive. He swallowed them. He didnt wake. He didnt wake now, with his cold hand held so tightly.

Eyes blurred and burning, grief like a white-hot coal lodged in his heart, Rafel leaned forward. Bent low. Da, its Rafe. Can you hear me?

Silence. Slow breathing. Beneath the warm blankets his father slept, still as a doll.

Da Not enough words. More words than he could count.

He kissed his fathers thin, stubbled cheek and walked away.

Mama and Deenie looked so forlorn, standing in the Tower foyer. They were saying goodbye here, since his leaving wasnt public. He hugged them both, hard. Felt the depth of their fear for him racking through them, mingling with the strident pain in the earth.

Mama fixed the collar on his long oiled riding-coat, then smoothed her fingers over his hair. Be safe, Rafel. Be watchful. Trust your instincts. Her lips trembled. Come home.

He felt like a sprat again, caught out in some mischief. You do know why Im going, Mama? You know I know, Rafe, she said. Her eyes were dry. Im proud of you.

And that nearly undid him.

Dont pick fights with Arlin, Deenie whispered, her thin arms around his waist. He cant help being a sinkin b.l.o.o.d.y fool.

Painfully smiling, he kissed her hair. He could try, the little s.h.i.t. Deenie, take care of Charis for me. Uncle Pellen I know. I will, she said, her arms tightening. Sh.e.l.l be here when you get back. You make sure you bring Goose back. And yourself.

He nodded. Promise. Deenie She pulled away. Her eyes were shadowed-smeared and trickling tears. Go, Rafe. Just go.

He was right to do this. He had to do this. If Da were awake theyd be doing this together. But riding away from the Tower was the hardest moment of his life.

He joined Arlin and his fellow Olken travellers in the old palaces privy royal chapel, hardly used these days, where Barlsman Jaffee was waiting with prayers and a blessing. Couldnt help a sneer, catching sight of Rodyns son. Not even the prospect of endless toil and stark danger could prevent the new Lord Garrick from flaunting his inherited wealth. Velvet. Seed pearls. Slender gold rings. What was he thinkingthat hed dazzle the darkness beyond the mountains into submission?

Probly. Arlin really is a sinkin fool.

Done droning the daily invocation, Jaffee smudged pungent oil on the insides of their wrists so the strong pulse there could carry Barls love to their hearts. Then he folded his hands and stared down at the five of them, kneeling humbly before him.

My sons, you do a great thing, he said, his thready voice heavy with emotion. Every day of your journey will see you in my fervent prayers.

Clyne, Dimble and Hambly murmured something, being grateful. Rafel heard Arlin swallow a sharp breath. Bitterly resenting these Olken intruders. For himself he didnt much care they were coming. Could be Jaffee was right, and theyd be safer five than two. Arlin probly would be. The three of them could pull him off the poxy s.h.i.t when his temper finally snapped. As for the men as individuals, well, he knew Tom Dimble from his work with Da at Justice Hall. Close to middle-age, he was. Da called him trustworthy, and that was good enough for him. Nib Hambly and Hosh Clyne, a few years older again, he knew only to nod at in the street, or propping up the bar in the Dancing Bear. Whether they chose this task, or got asked by the Council, either way they had gumption, agreeing.

And it could be worse. They could be Doranen.

Here is my final stricture, upon all of you, Jaffee added. As you climb Barls Mountains leave your former selves behind. When you reach the summit and descend into the unknown, let there be no more Doranen and no more Olken. Know yourselves only as men of Lur. Strive together for the saving of this poor, stricken kingdom, for should you fail in this task I fear all of us will perish. Barl go with you.

And the blessing was done.

Arlin had agreed to provide the large carriage that would carry them to the Black Woods village of Gribley, nestled at the foot of Barls Mountains. Waiting in the old palaces stable yard as the horses harness was checked one last time, Jaffees written instructions on what to do once they reached Gribley safe in his pocket, Rafel looked up at the grey, drizzling sky. Remembered the day, nearly sixteen years ago, when Tollin and the rest rode out of Dorana City on their big adventure.

So much excitement, thered been. In warm sunshine hed watched them ride through the Citys gates, laughing, cause even though Da had been dead set against the expedition hed not stopped Mama from taking spratty Rafe to stand with the cheering crowds. Excitement too those scant weeks ago, when Goose rode off with Fernel Pintte and Sarle Baden and those other hopeful explorers. The sun had shone in the bright blue sky that day, as well. The people of Dorana had cheered.

And today its raining, and were leaving Dorana by the back door with only a handful of folk to know. But I aint about to think anything on that.

The three Olken councilors were stood in a tight-knit group, talking together in low voices. Pale and uneasy, they flicked him glances that told him gumption or not, they werent altogether sure about what they were doing, or who they were doing it with.

And Arlin? Arlin was grousing at his coachman, complaining about something that wasnt done to his satisfaction. The coachman bore the abuse stolidly, staring at the wet ground. An Olken would need to be desperate to work for that little s.h.i.t.

Sink me sideways, Da. Thisll be fun.

Dismissing his coachman back to the carriage, Arlin next lashed out at one of the old palace stable lads. Rafel hunched his shoulders, biting his tongue, as the rain dripped steadily off the brim of his leather hat and splattered the shoulders of his oiled riding-coat. He couldve stood under shelter, like the councilors, but seeing as they were about to be cooped up in Arlins carriage till long past nightfall he wanted as much fresh air as he could get. Behind the glooming clouds thunder rumbled, like giant marbles rolled over a wide wooden floor.

Firedragon, left to his own devices in a spare stable, waiting to be retrieved by one of the Tower lads, poked his head over the half-door and curiously eyed all the goings-on. Rafel stared at him, swamped by a sudden wave of affection. Swamped by fear hed never see the horse again.

And then, just as sudden, the thought of travelling all the way to Gribley in Lord b.l.o.o.d.y Garricks fancy carriage, with bad-tempered, mean-mouthed Lord b.l.o.o.d.y Garrick for company, was more than he could stomach.

Oy! he said, and marched over the slippery cobblestones to Arlin, who was still tongue-lashing the hapless stable lad. Change of plans. Im riding to Gribley.

Arlin turned. Even his travelling coat was made of the finest, most expensive leather in the kingdom. And the st.i.tching on his gloves? That was gold thread.

What? he snapped, impatient of interruption.

You heard me, Rafel said mildly, cause staying mild with Arlin was a sure way to fratch him. I dont fancy sitting on my a.r.s.e all day. Not in a carriage, any road. Im riding.

Really? Arlin looked at him. Looked at the carriage, loaded with their packs and other equipment. Looked at the three councilors, men he loathed for no better reason than they were Olken. He turned back to the lad. Send to my townhouse. Have them bring me my brown stallion.

Yes, mlord, the browbeaten stable lad murmured, and bolted.

Rafel didnt know whether to laugh or be p.i.s.sed. And there was me looking forward to riding to Gribley on my lonesome. Times marching on, Arlin. We cant hang about here waiting for your horse. Weve got to be on our way before folk arrive here to start work. Besides, its a long days travelling to Gribley.

Then leave, said Arlin, looking down his nose. My animals the best-bred horse in Lur. Ill join you soon enough.

And he b.l.o.o.d.y would, too, even if he had to kill his stallion to manage it. Rafel shrugged and smiled, mildly. Suit yourself.

Leaving Arlin to fume, he asked one of the other lads to saddle Fire-dragon then crossed to the clutch of whispering councilors. Carriage is all yours, Tom. Lord Garrick and I feel like riding today.

Tom Dimble folded his skinny arms, brows pulled low. Do you, now? He sounded suspicious.

Tom Rafel shook his head. Dont be a numbskull. We aint about to leave you stranded. You know what the pa.s.s-note says. Five to travel over the mountains. If there aint five, n.o.body goes.

Tom thought on that. I suppose, he said at last, grudging. But Rafel, the weathers foul. Why would you want to Ride all the way to Gribley cooped up in a carriage with Lord Arlin b.l.o.o.d.y Garrick? He snorted. I dont know, Tom. Let me think on that, why dont you?

Well Tom said, with a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt, and looked at his fellow councilors. Perhaps its not so hard to figure, at that.

And if Arlin rides, youre spared him too, he added. So were all happy, eh?

Happy, said Tom, with another look at Hambly and Clyne. His amus.e.m.e.nt vanished. Yes.

He stepped closer, and lowered his voice. Tom, you dont have to do this. Theres time to change your minds. I know the Council reckons its safer to send all of us butGarrick and I aint helpless. We can protect ourselves just fine. So if you dont want to come Hosh Clyne, by a whisker the oldest, shook his balding head. Decisions made. We should go.

And that was that. So he nodded at the three men who didnt want to be here, who werent wanted by him or by Arlin b.l.o.o.d.y Garrick, and fetched Firedragon from his stable. The councilors loaded themselves into Arlins fancy carriage and the coachman picked up his water-slicked reins.

Mind you dont spring those horses, Arlin snapped at him. Ill see you sorry if theres one pulled muscle between themand if I find a bowed tendon when we reach Gribley Ill My lord, said the coachman, touching his hat-brim. Theyll reach Gribley sound.

As the carriage-horses tossed their heads, restive, and Arlin glared his mistrust at the coachman, Rafel vaulted into Firedragons rain-speckled saddle. Well, Arlin, he said, his booted feet groping for the stirrups, Ill be seeing you by and by. Ride safe, now. Dont go tumbling, trying to catch up. A nice safe, steady jogthat should do it.

Arlins answer was a silent snarl. Rafel swallowed a grin. So, looked like Jaffees pious prating was nowt but a waste of breath. Arlin didnt look a mite interested in letting bygones be bygones. Not that he was bothered by that. He already had a best friend. And to save Goose hed cross Barls Mountains with the sorcerer Morg himself.

He nudged his heels to Firedragons flanks. The horse grunted, muscles bunching, then launched into a prancing trot out of the stable yard and into the puddled driveway beyond. He didnt bother looking back to see how closely the carriage followed. He didnt care.

Parades and cheering and the Citys streets lined with excited faces how would it feel to ride out of Dorana like that? Better than how it felt to be skulking away like a thief in the night, even though he knew why the Council had decreed they depart through the old palace grounds privy gates, with the sun barely risen and not a soul to see them go.

But it was a forlorn hope, that theyd keep this desperate expedition secret. Word of their going would spread soon enough. With the pain in Lurs earth a relentless, grinding ache in nearly every Olkens bones, folk were frighted and talking openly of trouble. And sooner or later, Ashers son would be missed. Councilor Hambly, being a farmercould be few folk in the City would notice him gone. But Tomas Dimble? His absence in Justice Hall would be loud as a shout. And Clynes barber shop was always full of customers, and theyd soon be wondering where their favourite barber was gone. Besides. Someone else in the Council would talk. Someone always did. That was just people.

But that aint my worry, is it? Its for Jaffee and Shifrin and the rest to lose sleep on. Ive got my own worries.

Like the sick fear that theyd acted too late and hed not be in time to save the kingdom or Goose. That even if he did return from over the mountains with everything and everyone he loved made safe, hed come home to find himself lacking a father.

Wait for me, Da. Dont you dare b.l.o.o.d.y die while Im gone.

With Arlins coachman keeping his horses in hand, and Firedragon eager to splash from puddle to puddle, he reached the rarely used palace gates with the carriage well in the rear. Not caring for that, not caring for Arlin, neither, still waiting for his horse to be brought up to him from his townhouse, he eased Firedragon to a quivering halt. Used his burning Doranen magic to swing the gates open then let loose his hold of the bit. Firedragon, so responsive, feeling his tension, feeling the muddled mess of his fears and hopes and griefs, flybucked twice, stretched his neck out, and leapt.

More than anything he wanted to let the stallion gallop unchecked to Gribley. But he couldnt. So he let Firedragon bolt a little way then gradually, regretfully, made him slow down and wait. At last the carriage reached them, wheels splashing fresh rainwater and mud, and they continued sedately, together, beneath the grey and drizzling sky.

Eventually, with palace and City lost to mist and mizzle, they turned off the Small City Road onto Black Woods Way, the narrower road that would take them into the forest and on to Gribley. Barls Mountains loomed in the distance, cloud-topped and forbidding. Just as forbidding, the spreading skirts of the shadowed, mysterious forest. Wolves lived there, and bears. Some Olken. Veira had lived there. Shed left Mama her cottage, but Mama had long ago given it to somebody else.

Now, though, they still travelled through open countryside. The day was unfolding dim and soggy, no hint of a break in the lowering clouds or misting rain. There wasnt much hereabouts but rabbits and the eagles who hunted them. Even when it wasnt raining, this stretch of Lur was seldom troubled by carts and coaches. Rafel liked this corner of the kingdom. Liked its wildness and its solitude. When they were sprats, he and Goose had played explorer out here. Under blue skies and a warm sun, frighting themselves with imaginary dangers.

Goose. He felt his guts squeeze. Dont think on him. Youre doing what you can, as fast as you can.

Hoof beats behind them, steadily gaining. He glanced round to see Arlins cantering approach. Firedragon shied. Holding the horse steady with knees and hands, Rafel looked sideways as the Doranen mage kept on cantering, alongside the carriage then past it until hed drawn level. Then he dropped his own stallion back to the steady trot that kept them bowling along towards Gribley. With the collar of his oiled coat turned up and his hat pulled low, Arlins face was almost completely hidden. He offered no greeting, no comment of any kind.

Rafel sighed. Dont see how this is going to work if we cant say two civil words to each other. Arlin, dyou reckon I reckon you neednt concern yourself about what I reckon, said Arlin, with the swiftest of glances. The Council in its wisdom has chosen this path for us. Ill ride it because I have to. Because compared with finding Lost Dorana, where my people will at last be free of this pathetic, crumbling kingdom, my distaste for your company is not important. But that doesnt mean I have to indulge you in pointless conversation.

Days with this poxy s.h.i.t? Weeks? Months, maybe? Rafel swallowed dismay. Fine, Arlin. So we aint friends, and never will be. But Deep in the earth a soft groaning, growing louder. The dull ache in his bones grew sharp edges. Closed his throat. Nearlynearly Hold up, he said, his belly churning. Arlin, hold up! Ignoring the Doranens protests, he reefed Firedragon round in a tight circle. Coachman, halt your team!

What are you doing? Arlin demanded as his coachman slowed the carriage. You dont give orders to my man. You dont Shut your trap, Arlin, he said, one fist raised. His blood was turbulent, warning whispers rising swiftly to a scream. The rain kept falling but the world felt still.

And then came the tremor, bursting through the deep soil and the rocks, through the skin and bones and flesh of the kingdom. Its echo burst through him and through the Olken councilors trapped in Arlins carriage. As they cried out, and the carriage-horses plunged in their harness, as the wretched earth roiled and rippled and Arlin Garrick swore, trying to control his panicked stallion, Rafel clung to Firedragon praying hed not fall off. Leaned over the horses shoulder and vomited his breakfast onto the shivering road. Lurs pain was his pain, flowing in white-hot rivers through his veins.

At long last it stopped.

Easing himself upright, spitting bile-tainted saliva, small bonfires of pain burning behind his eyes and in his joints, he looked first to the carriageno damage, no horse injuredand then to Arlin. The Doranen was pale, his eyes slitted as he wrestled his own jittery horse to a standstill.

He spat again, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. You all right, Arlin?

Arlin looked at him blankly. Why wouldnt I be? Turning, he waved a hand at his coachman. Get that carriage moving, you fool! Well not reach Gribley before midnight if we stand about here admiring the scenery.

The coachman touched his hat-brim. Yes, my lord.

b.l.o.o.d.y Arlin. Rafel nudged Firedragon to the edge of the road, waited for the carriage to draw level then urged the horse to keep pace with it. Tom, he said, peering inside. You fine gentlemen all dandy?

Like Arlin they were pale, but unharmed. Near enough, said Tom, next to the window. But Rafel Their blood surely continued to sizzle, just like his. I know, he said bleakly. And you can bet well feel worse before we feel better. But we aint got a choice, eh?

Tom glanced at his companions. No, he said, subdued. No, I suppose not.

And with that sobering realisation, the journey continued.

They reached the Black Woods village of Gribley nearly six hours past sunset. Long shadows stretched across the glimlit courtyard of the villages modest inn, where the Council had arranged for them to stay the night and where Firedragon and Arlins stallion would be stabled until fetched. Brooding around them, the hushed Black Woods. Daunting above them, Barls Mountains.

As the coachman and the inns stable hands saw to the carriage, Arlin handed his stallion over to the stablemeisters care and stalked inside without a word to anyone else. Rafel tended Firedragon himself, unsaddling and grooming him, making sure hed taken no unnoticed hurt in the long ride from Dorana. When the horse was clean and settled he had words with the stablemeister, then measured Firedragons feed to his own satisfaction. Giving the horse supper, smoothing his untangled red-flame mane, he bid his private farewell. Waited until he could show his face to the world, and went in search of his companions.

He found Tom, Clyne and Hambly supping ale in the inns plain parlour. Wheres Arlin?

The councilors exchanged looks. Taking his leisure alone, in his room, said Tom, indifferent. We asked him to join us.

Waste of good breath, Tom.

Another exchanged look. Yes.

Staring at them, Rafel was uncomfortably aware that Tom and his friends didnt welcome his company. Why? Cause they had privy Council business to discuss? Or cause they wanted to discuss him? Because he made them feel uncomfortable? The reason probly didnt matter. Point was, they were sitting there waiting for him to go away.

Fine. I aint an idiot. I can take a hint.

But it didnt bode well for the rest of their journey.

Im a mite travelsore myself, he said, keeping his voice casual. A bath sounds inviting. Enjoy your ale, councilors.

Wearily climbing the stairs to his room, he considered disturbing Arlinthen reconsidered the notion. Trying to make peace with the Doranen would only be a waste of his good breath. After his bath he ate a plain hearty meal brought up to him from the kitchen, mutton and potato and carrot stewed in thick gravy, and downed three mugs of strong ale. After that he studied Durms spells until his eyes wouldnt stay open, then tumbled headfirst into sleep. Pain danced through his uneasy dreams, and he woke at murky first light unrefreshed.

Swiftly dressed, he joined Arlin and the councilors in the parlour, where they ate scrambled egg and bacon and drank tea in tense silence. Then they collected their packs and walking sticks and swordsArlin, swordless, eyed the weapons with a sneerand made their way through the deserted, rain-drizzled streets of Gribley to the villages outskirts, and the one Doranen mage living in the Black Woods.

Her cottage sat deep in the shadows of the mountains, a stones throw from the unremarkable beginning of the pa.s.s. Looking up and up the rocky, winding pathway, Rafel felt the weight of the cliffs and crags, their brooding silence, pressing down hard enough to break his bones. Felt the pain of their climbing in him as though hed already begun. Felt clammy fear, and a brutal, savage doubt.