Letti did not wish to wake Candor. Her white hair pressed against her cheek, Candor’s eyes flicked back and forth under her pale eyelids, and Letti felt calm. She knew Candor had suffered alone last night, unwilling or afraid to wake her. Letti twirled a stray curl and bit the inside of her cheek. Candor was one of the strongest people, Letti winced, now the strongest person Letti knew, but her stubbornness would cause her no end of trouble. Of that much, Letti was certain.
Sighing, Letti leaned over her friend and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Candor woke to a soft shaking. Opening her eyes, Candor squinted at the dim light. For a brief moment, the world paused, small moats of ash swirled above her, and an empty doorway framed whisps of cloud. A dark strand of hair curled into view, and Letti’s face peered into Candor’s vision. Memories crashed over Candor, and she gasped at the pain of them. The heavy smell of wet smoke permeated the room, and Candor twisted into herself.
“Come on.” Letti murmured. “It’s time to go.”
The dam Candor had so carefully wrought between her emotions and her survival actions had broken last night, and she woke, no longer possessed of the yesterday’s strength. “Water.” Candor’s voice rasped from a broken throat. Both girls’ faces seemed gaunt, eyes huge and bloodshot, as if they had aged ten years in one night and smoked mintweed on top of it.
Letti handed Candor one of the smaller skins, and silently refilled her own from the last bit in the pots.
“No sun today.” Letti said, squatting by the door. “I suppose we follow our memories south.”
Candor nodded, trying to look much more ready than she felt. “Let’s crack on then.”
Letti tied the top of her ruck closed, gently swinging the pack up on her back. She stumbled at the weight of it but did not complain. Candor too loaded her pack and adjusted the straps, marveling at Mo and Lola’s design. She had Letti tie her new sword under the flap of the ruck and strapped her gifted grey sword to her hip.
“Let’s go.”
The hike through the foothills passed quietly enough, the silence speaking of the great sadness that rested on both their chests. As the hill house grew smaller in their rear, the grasses of the piedmont grew longer, nesting the blooms of wildflowers between their stalks. Across the wavering plains, the wind whispered its arrival before it touched them, ruffling the green sward as if it were an earthbound sea. The storm of the previous night had worn itself out, but clouds remained, hiding the sun and all its light.
“I bet,” Letti finally spoke as they approached the first trees of the Kotemor, “that there are starfish on the beach today.”
Candor tried to smile as the girls turned back toward the only home they had ever known. “Except last night, the twins cried for us, and not for the pain of the land.”
Letti met her eyes, and they turned towards the forest. “Onward.”
~.~
The sides of the black teeth seemed to grow straight up from the earth, and soon both Letti and Candor were panting. Leaning forward under their sacks, they used the trees to pull themselves forward, desperately trying to avoid tripping over brambles undisturbed for years.
“This,” Letti puffed, “was a terrible idea.”
As the space between the girls and their village grew, so too did their focus on their task at hand. It was a welcome relief, a salve for the unending ache that accompanied their purpose.
“We’re going to have to find a ridge.” Said Candor, equally as breathless.
“And what, hope we find the Great Stone Way?” Letti did not like climbing any more than Candor but was also leery of the prospect of finding themselves irretrievably lost.
“The same concept should apply.” Candor reached for another sapling, settling her foot on a stable rock. “If we keep the sun to our front.”
“Candor.” Letti huffed, exasperated. “We can’t even see the sun under here. And if the clouds remain, it won’t matter.”
“Exactly. So, it doesn’t matter if we stray.” Candor winked at Letti, who, despite herself, smiled. Perhaps a moment of normality was worth getting lost.
“It’s not as if we’ll die of dehydration or exposure out here.” Letti retorted.
“Now you’re getting it.” Candor grinned back, ignoring the guilt that swirled in her heart. She was not certain she should be smiling yet. Letti seemed to understand, and her smile slipped off her face even as Candor’s did.
“Let’s keep going up. Maybe we’ll see something at the top.” Candor proposed.
Letti nodded, then saved her breath. Up they went, stopping only to take small draughts of their skins and adjust their boots slightly. Neither were inclined to remove their footwear to check the burning that had begun on their heels or between their toes. Letti’s feet were particularly painful.
Letti had not exaggerated; branches curled around each other at the heights of the trees, mostly obscuring the cloudy sky. Candor was fairly certain they were drawing close to evening, but the dim light of the forest had not offered any indication of the time.
Letti gazed at the vines, fascinated by the plethora of life. It seemed to her that every trunk bore a different flora that grew around its bark. Indeed, as Letti peered closer to the sapling she was currently exploiting as an anchor, she let out a piercing shriek as the vine below her fist writhed to life and she fell to her knees. Trying to maintain her balance with the pack, Letti threw out her hands and landed spread eagle, facing up the incline.
Panicked, Candor crashed back down the slope, catching hold of the same tree Letti had relinquished.
“What—” Candor hissed.
“Snake.” Letti muttered into the dirt. “Just startled me.”
Grunting, Candor pulled Letti to her feet. “You used to play with snakes.”
“I used to play with water snakes.” Letti tried to brush the dirt from her front. “They’re not poisonous.”
Candor rolled her eyes. “These might not be venomous either.”
“Venomous.” Letti muttered, correcting herself. “The issue is that I don’t know. Which will become the issue with finding food and water as well.”
Candor did not answer.
The girls continued to trudge up the side of the mountain. A few hours later, Candor stopped. The land leveled out into a small terrace before slanting up again. Candor’s belly dropped. The land did not shape itself this way.
“Someone lived here.” Letti breathed, stopping by Candor at the edge of the clearing.
Candor had to agree with Letti’s conjugation; the circumference of the trees on the terrace was thick. No one had visited the terrace for a long while.
“Let’s stay here for the night.” Candor glanced up. The darkening sky peeked through the treetops. “I like
that I can see the stars.”
“You can’t see the stars.” Letti objected but dropped her pack.
“I can pretend.” Candor paced the terrace, noting the significant absence of brambles that had plagued the rest of the mountainside. Something sunk deep in her gut; she knew sleeping in such an accessible area was not a good idea. However, her feet and telling Letti they needed to sleep on the side of a mountain drove Candor to return and draw out her blankets.
“I can take first watch.” Candor said, stripping off her boots and socks. Her heels bore sharp blisters, souvenirs of the trip and born of a life lived barefoot in the same place.
“Thanks.” Letti murmured. She yawned.
“Wait.” Candor heaved herself once more to her feet. Wiggling her toes she stretched her hands above her head. “We need to do the Aiadar.”
Letti groaned. Candor too found the promise of more physical labor distinctly unpleasant, but she also remembered one of Mo’s earliest lessons. As Candor was coming of age (and coming of will), she had refused to perform the Aiadar after a severe trouncing from Mo. The next day Candor had awoken, stiff and sore and with a sword at her throat. She had proceeded to be trounced a second time and had not underestimated the Aiadar since.
“It will allow us to walk tomorrow.” Candor pulled Letti to her feet. “Just keep an eye out. I don’t like the feeling of this place.”
Letti nodded, but also refrained from suggesting they sleep further up the mountain. Slowly, the girls stepped through the martial dance. Slowly, they felt their muscles loosen. Slowly, their minds slowed, and both began to feel a bit more at peace. Letti had not noticed until her mind unwound, but from the moment they had stepped off from the hill house, Letti had felt as if they were being chased. Now, in the gathering darkness, she felt small, but not threatened. Candor, Letti noticed, jumped at every sound.
“You sure you’re ok for the first watch?” Letti took the dried fish and peach that Candor proffered. “You seem a little jumpy.”
“I am a little jumpy.” Candor frowned. “Flat land is easier to traverse. There might not be any more humans up here, but there are still animals.”
Letti drew in a breath. “Do you find it odd we haven’t seen any yet?”
“We saw the snake.” Candor reminded her friend.
“That’s true, but nothing else.” Letti frowned. “These are the Teeth; you’d think we’d have at least heard some animals.”
“Maybe they’re all nocturnal.” Candor suggested.
And with that unpleasant thought, Letti lay back, facing out, and drifted off to sleep.
An hour into the night, Candor heard her first confirmation of life. A soft flapping sounded above her. Candor didn’t bother trying to see through the dark. The night had dropped a velvety blanket of blackness over the terrace. With the stars and moon hidden behind the clouds that had settled far above them, the thick branches choked what little illumination the night offered, leaving Candor alone in her watch and utterly blind.
The flapping grew closer, and Candor ducked her head. A slight breeze swept her cheek, and she froze. Nothing had prepared her for the fear that coursed through her very bones. The bodies at the village, facing the death of her friends, not even approaching the hill house had triggered this animal fear to run.
There was nowhere to go. Candor gritted her teeth and forced her eyes open. She moderated her breathing with the exercises Mo had instilled in her and brought both Mo and Lola’s faces to the forefront of her vision. She would not run.
The flapping distanced itself once more, and before Candor could return to her normal breathing, a small light appeared above her. Quickly, several more followed. Gazing upwards, Candor tried to make sense of what she beheld. What looked to be birds bobbed through the forested clearing, at their heads a tiny, illuminated nodule. Candor stood, taking care not to stir Letti. The little birds boasted many pointed wings, and tiny pointed ears on their heads. Their little feet floated behind them as they dipped between the lower branches. Candor held out her hand. One small being alit on fingers and she drew it close to her face. The creature’s eyes were curiously intelligent, and Candor was certain that if she had spoken, it would have understood her. Her short bout of debilitating fear had somewhat abated with the lights of the creatures, but she remained uninclined to noise.
A swirl of inverted images and feelings flashed through Candor’s mind, and she gasped. The little bird, or bat, Candor realized, seemed to raise an eyebrow.
Was that you? Candor thought. The bat blinked, and flapped, gently rising off her hand to rejoin its companions. Enough bats filled the branches of the terrace that the ground silhouetted the shadows of the branches on which they alit.
Candor returned to her ruck and leaned against it. She felt almost safe again. To pass the time, Candor pulled her new sword from where it leaned against her sack. She unsheathed it as quietly as she could and admired the indigo iron. Raising it to her face, Candor frowned. Was it iron? The sword betrayed no indication of battle, no scratches, no dents or nicks. Candor could hardly believe this was a sword meant for display; it was too sharp, its leather grip too faded. Not a piece of the sword, Candor was also surprised to discover, harbored any rust. Flipping it over, Candor stroked the center rise. It did not dip in the middle like her own sword. The indigo metal simply rose to a sharp crest before sloping down to its far edge. It was also light. Candor balanced it on her finger. And balanced.
A roar echoed through the forest with unimaginable volume. Candor dropped the weapon, which mercifully landed on its flat side in her lap.
“Letti.” Candor hissed. “Letti, wake up!” Placing her hand over Letti’s mouth, Candor winced as the creature’s roar echoed over the terrace. What kind of creature grew large enough to emit such a sound? How had they never heard this roar in the village?
Letti awoke with a start and a squeak, eyes wide and breathing heavy. Candor put a hand to her lips in the waning light of the bats. With speed, they flew higher into the branches and one by one, began to wink off.
“Quick.” Candor stuffed her feet into her boots and rolled the blankets, fumbling with the knots that tied them to the bottom of the sack. Her pulse raced.
“What is that?” Letti breathed.
“I don’t know.” Candor replied grimly, “But we need to get off this terrace.”
“To the far side, up the mountain.” Letti affirmed, and the two girls, ignoring the protests of their backs, began to run as fast as the dimming light and low undergrowth would allow.
A great crashing and breaking of branches sounded behind them. The girls froze, each finding the far edge of the flat land and gauging its distance. They took off, sprinting and hopping and praying to the twins above that they did not sprawl out under their packs.
Just as they reached the far side of the terrace, the last bat dropped its light, and the forest plunged back into darkness, made worse by the recent adjustment to illumination.
“Here.” Candor breathed and felt Letti’s hand grasp her forearm.
There, squatted on the side of a mountain, they waited.
Another great crashing sounded through the clearing and a third roar. A tree crashed next to them, and Letti sucked in her breath. More than grateful to the twins that neither of them had yelped, Candor worried at the ringing in her ears as the reverberation died away. A different kind of rustling began, a crunching and shuffling and snorting. What sounded like a large sigh emanated from the terrace, and Candor frowned. She felt Letti shaking and tried to squeeze her hand. The adrenaline fading, Candor felt her exhaustion. The sounds from the clearing settled into a deep thrumming as the creature seemed to begin to snore.
One by one, the bats winked back on in the high treetops, and Candor and Letti could see the form of an enormous animal sprawled out on the terrace. Its sides heaved as it breathed, and Candor could see a large snout tip back at the far side of the clearing. As big as the hill house, the bear, for it was a bear, bore dark hair. Its lower haunches tangled with brambles, and its tail flicked at something unseen.
“By the twins…” Letti breathed.
Candor shook her head sharply. This was not a moment for whispers. Gesturing up the mountain, Candor rose out of her squat, her knees aching, and began to pick her way up the mountain, choosing her footholds carefully. Every time she or Letti cracked a stick underfoot or pulled a plant so far that it snapped back and hit the trees behind it, both girls curled into a crouch.
Soon enough, the light of the bats drew out of their distance, and the girls collapsed, using the incline of the mountain as backrests. There they slept until morning, neither much caring what happened.
~.~
The sun rose that morning, unobstructed by the clouds. Candor was the first to stir. Her feet screamed, and her mouth felt as though she had spent the night swimming in the ocean before a storm. Parched, she reached for the skin looped to the outside of Letti’s pack.
Letti did not stir, and Candor was not inclined to wake her just yet. She did a quick inventory of their gear, noting the haphazard packing job from their flight the night before.
With a sudden sinking feeling, Candor snatched at their belongings. Her sword was not among them.
“Stones below.” Candor swore. Taking a brief survey of the area, Candor noted the short distance they had covered out of the terrace. The distance had seemed much greater the night before, but Candor could still see the unusual flatness in the land below her. No sign of the gigantic bear remained, and Candor shuddered to think it might have walked right past them in the dark of the early morning.
Carefully, Candor unbuckled her remaining sword, placing it against Letti’s leg so that she might wake and pack it. Slowly, Candor moved back down towards the arbored clearing, searching for any flash of indigo, any sign of the silver written amethyst. At the very base of the terrace, Candor gasped. The bear had knocked over not one, but two trees to form his bed. The flattened undergrowth reminded Candor of his size, and she gulped. They had drawn uncomfortably close to an apex predator.
Shivering slightly, Candor peered around the edge of the terrace. Relief blossomed in her chest as she caught the glimmer of violet peaking from behind a rock a few feet away. Relief turned to dismay as she saw the sword crushed under the tree that had fallen so near to their cache last night.
Grimacing, Candor crept over to the tree and bent to pull the sword. It did not budge. As gently as she could, Candor tried to shove the trunk of the old tree to roll it off her sword. The weapon was likely damaged beyond repair, but Candor had no intention of leaving it behind. She would bury it herself before she would abandon it to the cruelty of fate and her own neglect. The tree did not budge.
Bracing her shoulders against the rock behind which the sword lay, Candor placed her feet on the tree and pushed. With an almighty creak, the trunk rolled slightly, and Candor snatched up her sword. Gasping, Candor examined the blade. Not only was it still in perfect condition, but it had also dented the bark of the fallen tree. It was as if the sword were stronger than the tree, and the tree had bowed to its shape.
Candor slung the sword over her back and returned to their makeshift camp. Letti had not yet woken, for which Candor was grateful. She did not wish to cause her friend any more angst than was strictly necessary.
They did, however, need to begin to climb once more.
“Letti.” Candor crooned, stroking Letti’s dark curls from her face. They were matted with sweat, and now the dirt and pollen that accompanied a long hike.
“Go away mum.” Letti tried to roll over, but instead rolled off her pack and flopped onto the ground. “Oomf.”
“Time to move.” Candor handed Letti the water. After a brief and unfulfilling breakfast that left the girls hungrier than they had been, they started up the mountainside again.
“You know,” Letti began, “I think your idea about the ridge is actually magnificent.”
Candor grunted in reply. Her eyes felt sandy. The light of a distant sun drifted down in small patches as the day grew older. Letti paid more attention to the flowers, the shape and size of leaves, and the patterns of the trees as they dragged themselves up the mountain. She was certain that they had encountered several different groups of flora.
“Candor,” said Letti. “Candor, I think we’re walking through villages of plants.”
“What?” Candor stopped and turned to look down at her friend, who was surveying a small patch of moss set in the crook of a branch. Little white flowers punctured its soft top, and Letti pointed to another patch.
“These were not in the trees further down the mountain.” Letti gestured next to another bit of the forest floor, mercifully free of brambles. “Those ferns, I’ve seen them up and down the mountain, and always near to trees like this.” Letti pointed finally to a couple tall, thin trees, whose dark bark peeled up and down the trunk.
“I think they all grow in a way that benefits the other.”
“Fascinating.” Candor nodded but did not spend much time evaluating the local flora.
With a small shrug, Letti glanced at the flowered moss and trudged after her friend. She rather liked the idea that these plants grew in little families. It made her feel comfortable, like she had fallen into step with the oldest patterns of time.
“I think that’s the top.” Candor stopped short and squinted. The side of the mountain offered no discernible difference in slope, but above them glittered the promise of a break in the trees.
Hurrying, the two girls slipped and slid as quickly as they could through the bushes and trunks, tripping over rocks and catching their trousers on brambles.
“We better,” Letti wheezed, “get to the Great Stone Way soon,” she tried for another inhale, “or we’re not going to have any clothes left.”
Candor did not bother to answer. She could see the break in the trees, and she was ready to see the sky.
Candor burst through the last few branches into the clearing and gasped. They seemed to have reached a bald peak. Almost entirely rock, the very top of the mountain rose a little further, before its peak leveled out at almost a plateau.
Crags of rock crusted with dirt welcomed the girls to the most incredible view they had ever seen. Scrambling to the top of the mountain’s pate, Candor grinned. The wind swept her short hair back over her head, and she whooped, exhilarated.
In front of them, mountains wrinkled the ground, each furred in the greenest of trees. The ridgeline on which they stood sloped down away to the south and crested behind them to a taller peak.
“Aren’t you glad we didn’t climb that?” Candor crowed.
Letti allowed a wide smile to slide across her face. The entire world seemed so small from their perspective. Letti turned back and saw the ocean to the north.
“Candor, look.” Letti tugged on Candor’s sleeve, noting a small tear.
The side of the black teeth sloped heavily to the small grasslands that they had known as home. In the distance, the ocean glittered, like the largest sapphire in the world. Candor thought she could see the hill house but could not identify it from its neighboring knolls. Behind the small barrows, a black smudge coated the ground.
“There’s the village.” Letti’s voice sounded small.
“Yes.” Candor turned back to the Kotemor. “We did it Lettishae.”
“Did what?” Letti frowned. “We haven’t done anything yet.”
“We survived a night in the black teeth.” Candor pointed. “And look at that.”
On the adjacent ridgeline, Letti could see what looked to be a set of grey spines. Every few peaks, a new cone seemed to poke up from a grey ribbon that crossed the top of the mountains, until it disappeared down the far side of a spur.
“The Great Stone Way.” Letti breathed.
“The Great Stone Way.” Candor echoed. Taking one last look at the view, Candor placed her sack down and climbed around the side of the peak.
“Look here.” Candor called to Letti, who winced at the volume.
“Shush.” Letti cautioned but followed her to a small opening in the side of the rock.
“It’s a little alcove,” said Candor.
“Yes.” Letti replied dubiously. “Haven’t we had enough of poking around man made places on this mountain?”
“I’m not sure this is man-made.” Candor poked her head into the space and trailed her fingertips along the surface of the rock. “Feel this.”
Letti did as she was told, and discovered the rock inside the alcove, though it looked rough, was curiously smooth, polished until it almost shone. Letti snatched her hand back.
“This is not a good place to stay.”
“We at least have our backs covered, and there’s one entrance for intruders.” Candor argued.
“This seems like a place visited.” Letti stepped back and ogled the opening again. To her, it almost looked like the mountain had thrown up the top of a hood, but where the head was supposed to fit, there was only empty space.
“We need to rest, and we need to plan.” Candor wheedled. “We don’t have any idea what we’re doing past getting to the Great Stone Way.”
Letti bit back a retort and nodded. “Fine. Let’s sit for a bit, but this time, we’re going to be ready to run.”
“Sounds restful.” Candor muttered but was glad enough to grab her ruck and place it in the small cave.
Still marveling at the work of the interior, Candor carefully unwrapped her maps and placed them in the sun at the mouth of the cave.
“Look here.” Candor pointed to another star on the map. Next to it read Ome Chaer. “This is where we have to go. This will let us get to the Citadel.”
“Right.” Letti’s voice suddenly grew quiet.
“I think Lola must have sent me a message the moment she knew she’d not see me again.” Candor’s throat grew thick, and she turned away. “I don’t know how she did it.” She did not want to admit it, but Candor was tired of the pain in her chest. The climb up the mountain had dulled it for a moment, but as she and Letti remembered the catalyst for their adventure, Candor’s heart would not be still.
“Alright,” said Letti softly. “I think we try to get to the Great Stone Way, then head south until we hit these plains, then head back west.” She made her case for exiting the woodland. Candor agreed and they rolled the map back up.
“How do you plan on getting to that island?” Letti asked.
“I’ll figure it out.” Candor half smiled, rubbing her eyes. “We have to make it there first.”
Letti made a face, and volunteered to watch for a while, as Candor slept.
Grateful, Candor stretched out in the back of the carved space. Letti considered their trek. She did not mention it to Candor, but she had no desire to visit the Citadel. She had read the brief mention of it Candor had excitedly showed her in the one ripped scroll she had found, and it had not seemed threatening then. On the contrary, before Lola’s voice had ordered her daughter to it, Letti considered it a place of delicious mystery. To think they were going to try to set foot on it, Letti pulled her knees closer to her chest. Something akin to dread settled deep in her gut. She knew she should not visit the Citadel. She knew it in her bones.
After the blackness of the evening had settled around them, Letti leaned against the opening of the cave. Candor had not stirred for the last few hours. The clouds had not returned that evening, and Letti found the deep shadows and dark draws of the mountains beautiful, if eerie. The stars and moon offered enough light to their unforested rest area that Letti thought to let Candor sleep for a few more minutes, content to watch the forests doze.
Out of the corner of her eye, Letti saw something flicker. Focusing on the spot she thought she saw movement, Letti narrowed her vision.
Sure enough, a small orange slice of light illuminated one of the spikes of the Great Stone Way. Someone had lit a fire on the road.
“Candor, Candor.” Letti shook her friend awake. Sooner than later, Letti thought grimly, they were going to have to learn to be lighter sleepers. If they drowned in slumber any more, they were going to be set upon by something unpleasant.
“Look.” Letti pointed to the fire.
Candor squatted next to Letti, breathing in the clean air of the peak. “We’re not the only ones out here.”
Letti felt a cool shiver run down her spine, as if someone had flicked a drop of cold water through her vertebrae. They were not alone.
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