Page 33 of The Pastel Prince

“Watch them rocks,” Bissori shouted as he began to walk forward, his hands up over his head, clutching what looked to be silver and gold necklaces and shiny blue earrings. I glanced down to ensure nothing else lay in my path when I found the body of a frozen rock squirrel. Snow-covered and stiff, I bent down to brush some of the white fluff from its furry back. Oncea bit of snow was cleared, I sat back on my heels in confusion. A dead animal in this environment was nothing unusual, I was sure. Perhaps the squirrel had been injured or sick and had simply passed over to the goddess. But there was something about the wide-open eyes of the little rodent that hit me like a lance between the ribs. The squirrel was stone. Its eyes not white from frost but gray as granite. Bissori began to bark out a yeti greeting. The winds whipped around us. I shot to my feet, peeling off the glove on my right hand, then casting it over the side of the mountain. My shouts to the men in front were blown away. I dashed ahead, grabbed Bissori by the arm, and spun him to face me.

“The squirrel is stone!” I yelled into his face. He seemed lost for a moment. Beirach, standing a mere foot from me, turned to look at us, horror seeping into his expression. “The squirrel is stone!”

“Damnation,” Bissori growled, lowered his hands, and studied the ledge so far above us. “We’ll need to climb up and check on them sentries.”

“I’ll do it.” Tezen pushed free of my braids, then took to the air. Her tiny wings beat fiercely as she fought the icy winds. Beirach took my exposed hand. I ripped it free. If the curse was on my skin, I did not wish for him to touch me. He reached for my hand again.

“If we are one of heart, then we are one in all things,” he said and placed his lips to my palm. I wanted to slap him and kiss him all at once. Tears welled in my eyes. “They will freeze, my love. No tears. We face our future as one.”

“Foolish romantic ass,” I whispered as our pixie warrior returned, her purple hair white with snow. “What did you see?”

“Poor bastards. They’re all stone, four of them…just standing there…their mouths open as if yelling out a warning, big clubs in hand. I think…” She paused to catch her breath afterlanding on my shoulder and grabbing a braid to keep her from being blown away. “I think he’s beat us.”

“Then we push on,” Beirach stated, his tone as cold as the weather.

“On we go then,” Bissori called, tucking the jewelry he’d brought as a trade into his armor. Snow had covered them before we could heft ourselves up to a higher ledge. A low roar now joined the wailing winds, a low thunderous sound. “That’ll be Mother Moth. We have a wee way to go now, lots of climbing. I’ll go first. Kenton, you follow, and Beirach, bring up the rear.”

I nodded and began to climb, placing my hands and feet where Bissori did as best as I could. Rumor had it dwarves climbed like the crag goats that called this wild mountain range home and I now saw that being true. Even in a heavy armor plate, Bissori was agile and strong. I struggled, slipping several times, my bare hand numb from the cold. Beirach caught me after every misstep.

“We’re close now,” Bissori called as he hoisted his body over a sharp chockstone. He reached down to help me up and over the huge rock, tugging me from the edge as Beirach followed right behind. When I caught my breath, I could hear it now, the falls, louder than before. “That’s the song of Mother Moth. We’re to trudge along a bit now, see this path?” He waved a hand at a wide crack in the side of the mountain. “Inside we go.”

“Are you sure of this route?” Beirach asked, his sight on a rather snowy but obvious walkway that led in a westerly way around the mountain and out of sight.

“I ain’t sure of nothing, just using my sense of the rock. And it tells me to go inside. Ain’t like we got a map or anything. Most dumb fools who wander into yeti lands get roasted on a spit for not making offers to the tribe. Dead men don’t make maps.”

“If his rock sense is telling him to go in, then we should follow,” I said, my bare hand tucked under my armpit. “Nothing is quite as keen a directional device as a dwarf’s rock sense. It’s how they navigate so well under the Witherhorn.”

“Smart kid.” Bissori smiled.

“Yes, of course, I did not mean to question your skills, cousin. My mind is elsewhere…” Beirach replied softly. We all knew he was lost in a place that none of us, for we did not have children, could truly understand. I could only imagine such a horrid situation. Having a child that you raise and teach and place all your love into, only to have to face them down and make them atone for evil things they may have done. I could not imagine the pain. Just thinking of Aelir moving from the bright, bubbly boy he now was into a creature bent on wiping out innocent people made me want to weep, and Aelir was not my flesh and blood.

I would cling to the hope that this dark mage wasnotMaverus tenaciously.

We formed a line, then stepped into the dark crack in the side of the mountain. Tezen left my hair then, flitting about with her picks out. A few steps inside and one could barely hear their own thoughts for the sound of the falls. The air here was cold, my breath fogging in front of me as I strode along. Beirach’s staff lit the narrow passage, the blue antler glowing with divine power. Bissori paused, his helm shining sapphire from Beirach’s magicks. Before the dwarf was a wall of water pounding downward from high above. The air here was moist, the cold droplets sheeting on flesh and armor.

“Gird yourselves,” Bissori shouted back to us.

“We cannot see what is on the other side!” Tezen yelled, diving back into my hair to tie a braid around her middle. “What if there is nothing but a fall?”

“Then we kiss the stone,” Bissori bellowed before dashing through the wall of icy water. I glanced at Beirach. He took my naked hand.

“The goddess has led us this far. She will see us safely to the end,” he said and took a step, his grip tight on my hand. “Hold tight to me.”

“Always,” I replied, inhaled deeply, and plunged forward. The blast of water nearly swept me off my feet. I wrapped my hand protectively around Tezen, secured by a mere braid as icy cold torrents flowed over us. My breath stalled in my lungs and my boots slid this way and then that. Unable to see well, or at all, I felt a tug on my arm.

Danubia protect us.

I stepped forward. The ground was slick with water atop ice. Beirach pulled me to the side out of the deluge. I fell into him, grasping at his bark armor with one hand as I tucked a squirming pixie against my neck.

“That was invigorating!” Bissori roared to my left. I blinked water from my eyes, a chill the likes I have never felt creeping to my bones. “My stones are up in my throat! Ah-ha! What a leap of faith!”

“I hate the cold,” Tezen whimpered and sneezed several times in a row. I released her, then broke into shudders that made my teeth clatter. “I vow on my pert titties that I will never leave the flatlands again!”

“We need to move from this mist,” Beirach said, his voice shaky with cold.

Tezen crawled into my armor, her tiny wings sticking to my wet skin. There wasn’t much body heat to share, but I’d give her what I could. Nose running, braids sodden, my clothing and armor stuck to me, I fumbled along a thin ledge that ran around a maw of darkness that the falls cascaded into. On the other side of the cavern was a wider shelf and there stood a sightthat I would never forget, no matter how aged I became. Beside me, Bissori stood gaping at the huge double white doors set into a framework of ivory wood. On either side of the door were two ancient white oaks reaching skyward, with icy blue leaves on crystal branches. The trees illuminated the cave with a soft sapphire light that pulsed with the rhythm of Mother Moth’s waterfall. In the air above us, moving in undulating clouds, were hundreds of white moths. I stared up in wonderment.

“We have reached the great oaks,” Beirach whispered in awe. I went to my knees, uncaring if I rested in icy cold water, and bowed my head. He joined me, laying his staff to the wet rocks, to bow his head and join me in prayer.

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