Danger looms in different guises

Beware of unforeseen surprises.

Dawn stretched out, rosy and warm, across the Arlen plains. Forthwhite was long lost to view, but several huge lumps could be seen scattered in the golden haze on the distant horizon. Hillbeasts, moving surely but imperceptibly about on the plain.

Ferrian watched them from the fringe of trees where they had made camp for the night. Commander Trice had not wanted to ride too close to the giant beasts; they were not aggressive but each of their six legs was as thick as a horse was long, and their eyesight was so poor that they were oblivious to their surroundings. But Aari had flown up and sat on the grassy back of one of them as it plodded along with enormous, interminably slow steps. The others had easily outpaced him on their horses.

The Angel had enthusiastically told Ferrian all about hillbeasts for the remainder of the afternoon, about how they spent most of their time with their great, flat heads buried in the ground, chewing up dirt and anything that lived in the dirt. Huge patches of crunched-up ground were left behind whenever they moved on.

He seemed very knowledgeable. Ferrian wondered how he knew so much, but he couldn't blame Aari for being interested; it was the first time he'd viewed a hillbeast up close, as it was walking, and it had been an awesome sight.

Ferrian looked around. Birds twittered brightly in the trees, but otherwise, he was the first one awake. Even the sun had not yet risen above the far distant horizon, but its light was just beginning to ignite the tips of the grey Barlakk Mountains behind him.

Stretching, he got up and wandered over to a small stream that trickled through the grove of trees from out of the foothills. For a change, he felt in good spirits. He felt as though a massive weight of snow had been lifted from him, as though the Winter had incredibly retreated into a distant memory rather than an ever-present threat.

He knew the Winter was still there, of course. It was always there, chasing him if he lingered too long in one spot or too darkly in the same thoughts. But he was keeping ahead of it and now there was a chance – a slim one, but still a chance – that he might be able to do something about it.

At last, he had found a sense of purpose: no longer wandering aimlessly about the countryside, this time he was travelling for a reason.

And he was travelling with people who believed they could help him.

Ferrian shook his head. That was what astonished him most of all.

He reached the stream and listened to the gurgle of the water as it flowed over the rocks. From behind him, he could hear the sounds of the others coming awake; Aari yawned loudly. Off to his right in the trees, the horses snuffed.

Ferrian bent and dipped his hands into the pleasantly cool waters, splashing some on his face. He was just dipping his hands back in when he noticed something odd.

He pulled his left hand back out of the water, and stared at it. It looked very pale, for some reason. He frowned. Then he shrugged, and splashed some more water on his face.

When he opened his eyes again, his hand was glowing.

Ferrian started. It seemed as if his hand was shining with a kind of faint white luminescence.

He looked around himself, but he was not crouching in any patches of sunlight. He looked back, and the first faint stirrings of fear began to emerge.

He swallowed heavily and quickly dunked his hands back in the water. He kept them that way for a moment, then brought them slowly back out.

Now both of them were glowing!

Ferrian’s eyes went wide. His heart began to beat faster.

His hands looked as though they were shining with some kind of inner light. In fact, he could make out the silhouette of his bones through the skin...

"What the...?" he whispered.

"Hey there, Ferrian!" someone said from behind him. Ferrian almost jumped out of his skin. He splashed his hands back down into the water.

He looked over his shoulder. Aari came up behind him, carrying a tin pot.

"Uh.... hey, Aari," Ferrian replied, carefully keeping his hands hidden in the stream.

Aari knelt down at the stream and scooped up some water in the pot. He glanced over at Ferrian, and his brow creased.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You look kind of... pale."

Ferrian kept his gaze on his submerged hands. "Uh, yes, fine," he said with forced cheerfulness. "Just, er... washing my hands..." He sloshed some water around for effect.

Aari hesitated a moment longer before slowly standing up with the container of water. "Oh. Well, okay then," he said, and walked off back to the camp.

Ferrian watched him go, and let his breath out in a rush. Cautiously, he looked back at his hands.

The eerie glow had gone.

Ferrian stared at his dripping hands for a moment longer, as if to make sure the glow was truly gone. After several long seconds with no sign of a repeat occurrence, Ferrian felt his heart begin to slow a little.

What just happened? he thought, feeling suddenly cold. Does it have something to do with the Winter?

He looked up at the sky instinctively. It was perfectly clear. Sunlight was spilling across the ground now, and streaming through the trees. There was no noticeable change in the temperature of the air, although his insides had turned to icicles.

He glanced back at the camp. Aari had lit a small fire and was boiling water, and Grisket and Sirannor were talking quietly. The others didn’t seem to have noticed anything unusual.

Ferrian looked back at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. Maybe I just imagined it, he thought. Maybe it was just a trick of the light.

He swallowed, forcing himself to get to his feet. Well, whatever it was, it’s gone now, he told himself firmly. And there’s no reason why any of the others should know, is there?

He took a deep, calming breath. After all, he thought, as he slowly walked back to the camp. I don’t want to alarm them for nothing.

They continued to ride on for the rest of the day, now shaded from the glaring sun by gently rustling, sweet-smelling forest. Ferrian, like the Hillbeasts, barely noticed his surroundings. He tried to focus on the glinting leaves or the puffs of dust that rose from the horses' hooves, but was unable to keep from stealing glances at his hands every now and then when no one was looking.

The mysterious glow, however, did not return.

Ferrian tried not to think about it; tried to tell himself it was nothing. But hands didn’t just start glowing for no reason, and he found that his mind kept wandering back to what had happened that morning at the stream.

He had definitely been fully awake. He had not imagined it. The glow had been real. But if he hadn't imagined it, then surely it must have something to do with the magic inside him? The curse that drew the Winter.

But what he couldn’t work out was why something like this was happening now. He’d lived with the Winter for his whole life, or as much of it as he could remember, and he had never experienced any kind of weird glow or other magical side-effects before, not even when the Winter was at it's darkest and coldest.

Had something… changed?

The possibility worried Ferrian, and his insides remained cold and twisted, but he kept his thoughts carefully to himself, and his companions were none the wiser.

On their fourth day out from Forthwhite they were well into the foothills, following the main road to Merinriver Break. The road was wide and dusty, curving and undulating over the forested slopes. The traffic was much heavier here; it was the most well-used route connecting the Outlands to the Coastlands and they frequently passed other travellers and merchant wagons. Ferrian kept his hood up despite the heat, but Commander Trice had not been wrong about the uniform: no one caught his gaze.

Ferrian rode behind Commander Trice, with Captain Sirannor a little way behind. Sergeant Aari drifted lazily through the air above the treetops ahead of them. The day was peaceful and warm, a gentle breeze rustling the long grasses on either side of the road.

Then, without the slightest hint of warning, a blinding bolt of white light shot directly out of the middle of Ferrian’s chest.

Sirannor's head jerked up at the flash of light, and he yelled in surprise. Grisket turned at the Captain's shout and spun his horse in a whirl of dust.

The first bolt was followed almost immediately by dozens of others, streaming out of Ferrian in every direction and from every part of his body.

Ferrian did not utter a sound, he simply toppled slowly off his horse to the ground.

Grisket and Sirannor reined in their horses and leapt to the ground. Aari hit the ground at a run, racing to the scene. The light was so brilliant that the men had to shield their eyes with their hands as they made their way towards Ferrian.

And then, as suddenly as it had appeared – the light vanished.

Grisket reached Ferrian first and dropped to his side in the dust. "Ferrian!" he yelled. "Are you all right?"

Ferrian lay on his back on the ground, feeling bewildered. For a moment he was so astonished he forgot to answer. Then slowly he looked down at his body. He didn’t seem to be hurt at all, and he couldn’t feel any pain.

"I... think... so..." he said slowly.

Captain Sirannor and Aari came racing up. "What happened?" Sirannor said as he dropped down at Ferrian’s other side. Grisket and Sirannor helped him to sit up.

Ferrian’s mouth moved, but he couldn’t seem to find any words. "I... I... don’t know!" he finally stuttered. His breath came out in a white puff.

It was then they all noticed that the air around them had gone icy cold.

Aari crouched beside Commander Trice and touched the ground with his fingers. It was covered in a thin, shimmering layer of frost.

"Oh no," Ferrian moaned. "The Winter!"

All four of them looked to the sky.

It remained a perfect blue bowl, with nothing more threatening than a couple of eagles circling lazily in the summer air.

"Still clear," Aari said with undisguised relief. He turned to Ferrian. "Are you hurt?"

Ferrian shook his head. He was still in shock. He couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

"There was no pain. It just felt kind of.... weird," he replied. He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and looked down at his hands, and shuddered at the memory. "Like all of my bones and muscles were quivering."

"Has anything like this ever happened to you before?" Grisket asked suddenly.

Ferrian shook his head again. Then he bit his lip, and looked down at the ground. "Actually, there’s something I should tell you..." he said quietly.

"What’s that?"

"Yesterday morning, back at the stream..." He took a deep breath. "My hands were glowing."

Everyone stared at him in surprise. "Yesterday morning?" Grisket repeated incredulously. "And you never thought to tell us?"

"I didn’t want to worry you!" Ferrian said.

"You could’ve killed us!" Grisket said angrily, almost yelling.

"Steady on, Commander!" Aari intervened. "Yelling won't achieve anything. And besides, would it have made much difference if he had told us? It's not like we could have done anything."

Grisket glowered for a moment. "No. No, I suppose you’re right," he grumbled reluctantly.

"I think we should find this sorcerer as soon as possible," Sirannor said suddenly.

Commander Trice growled, then pushed himself to his feet. He glanced up and down the road, but they had been lucky: there was no one else in sight.

The frost on the ground had rapidly melted away in the heat.

The Commander leaned down and helped Ferrian to his feet, then stalked over to his horse. “Lets keep moving.”

They had just remounted and Aari had pushed off into the air when a rider appeared on the slope ahead. Catching sight of them, the rider spurred his horse into a gallop and came to a halt in a cloud of dust before Commander Trice. He carried a satchel and looked like a courier. “Freeroamers?” he asked.

“Aye,” Grisket affirmed. “Commander Trice.”

“The road ahead is blocked, Sir,” the man continued, pointing up the road.

“What?” Grisket said. “What's happened?”

“The Watch, Sir,” the courier went on. “They've set up a toll, on the western end of the Break. No one's getting past without paying. Bridge is clogged up with caravans and wagons, end to end. Can't get a man past, Sir.”

“What?!” Grisket exclaimed. “The Break is part of Outland territory. The Coastland border ends in the Barlakk foothills on the western side. They've no right to charge a toll!”

The courier raised his eyebrows and nodded in the direction of the mountains. “Try telling them that, Sir!” he replied. “Plenty of others have tried, but,” he shook his head, “they're armed, Sir. Heavily. No one's getting past.”

“How much are they charging?” Aari asked.

“One gruble.”

“A gruble!” Grisket was furious. “Bah!” He made a fist and swiped it in the air. “Thanks for letting us know,” he growled at the courier.

The man nodded and continued down the road at a gallop.

The four of them watched him go in dismay.

“Now what?” Aari sighed.

Grisket growled. “We don't have time for this! We don't have time to mess around with the damned Watch! We can't afford the delay!”

Ferrian was lost in memories. The last time he had passed this way, he was a young boy, travelling with the gypsies. They had been delayed too, trapped at the head of Merinriver Break. That was when old Meriya had been forced to lead him outside into the raging snow, to abandon him…

“We can't stop at the Break,” he said quietly. “Not there. The Winter will come.” He swallowed, suppressing a shudder. “Again.”

He looked up at them. “Perhaps we could… just pay the toll?”

“In front of all those Outlander folk?” Grisket shook his head, scowling. “They'll have our hides. They'll be expecting the Freeroamers to ride in there and beat the Watch back. The crowd'll be riled up, angry, itchin' for a fight. Not the kind of confrontation we wanna be gettin' into.”

”They're holding the only pass, “ Aari said gloomily. “They've got it tied up pretty tightly...”

They all fell into a frustrated silence. The horses snorted, restless.

“There is another way,” Sirannor said quietly.

They looked up at the Captain in surprise.

"Well,” Grisket said after a moment, “let’s hear it, man!"

Sirannor looked solemnly at their expectant faces. "Contrary to popular belief,” he said, “Merinriver Break is not the only pass through the Barlakks."

"What?" Ferrian said in surprise.

"There is another," Sirannor continued. "It's called Demon Heights."

"How do you know this?" Aari asked.

Sirannor's look was stern. "I was in the army once, remember? The army knows a great many things that are kept hidden from the general population."

Grisket raised an eyebrow, and folded his arms across his chest. "Really? Such as...?"

"Such as this hidden pass through the mountains," Sirannor replied.

"Why didn’t you mention this before?" Ferrian asked.

Sirannor was silent for a long moment. "I have... good reasons for not telling you," he replied. "I hoped never to have to use it except in the direst of circumstances. It is up to Ferrian to decide whether the current situation calls for such risk-taking."

"And what risks would those be?" the Commander asked.

Sirannor sighed. He turned and stared off into the sunlit trees. "Why do you think they call it Demon Heights?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the wind rustling through the long grass and the tumbling of a few dry leaves across the road. No one said anything. Finally, Ferrian stated the obvious: "Er… There’s demons there?"

"Precisely."

Grisket and Aari exchanged glances. "What, you’re serious?" Grisket said. "Captain, there’s no such..."

"Commander, there are. I’ve seen them myself."

Grisket stared at him. Sirannor matched his gaze unblinkingly.

"When I was in the army," Sirannor explained, "Before I was assigned to the Middle Isle, I was part of a small reconnaissance team. We had only just discovered the existence of Demon Heights back then, and at first we thought it was a Godsend. Travelling through this new pass could cut the journey from Sunsee to the Outlands by half.

"My team was the second team of soldiers to use the pass. The first had disappeared mysteriously a few weeks earlier, and we were sent in to discover what had become of them. The army Commander put it down to bad weather, or Outlander rebel groups or any number of unfortunate accidents.

"No-one attributed the disappearance to the pass itself."

He stared intently into the trees, his hard grey eyes becoming unfocused, clouded over with the memories he was relating. "The pass was reached via a steep path cut into the side of a cliff," he went on. "At first, everything went according to plan. We ascended the cliff path, and started along a narrow cleft that ran forwards from the cliff top. It was then that we saw them.

"At first we thought they were just a trick of the light, a play of shadows against the rocks. But when they swarmed down the rock walls and attacked us, we knew they were very real indeed.

"The demons were all over us in a matter of seconds. Twisted, grey, wraith-like creatures, one minute they were solid; the next as insubstantial as smoke. We drew our swords and struck out at the demons, and sometimes we seemed to hit them, and other times our blades appeared to go right through them.

"In any case, the demons could touch us well enough. They attacked like no other creature I have ever seen: they did not strike out with claws or teeth, or even weapons of any kind. They appeared to... absorb into a man’s flesh, passing through his body as if it were made of nothing more than air. And when they left the body, it would simply fall down dead, as though they had entered him and stolen away his very soul.

"We couldn’t fight them. How could we fight against creatures like that? In the end, we had no choice but to run.

"We fled along the cleft, with the demons pursuing us. They covered the distance between us not like ordinary creatures, but through the air - like drifting smoke - and had caught up with us in a matter of moments.

"I fled along the pathway as fast as my legs could carry me. I did not know how many of my comrades were left behind, or how close the demons were; I heard no screams or cries as I ran, just fewer and fewer footsteps pounding the earth behind me.

"The cleft eventually ended in a tunnel that ran beneath a lake. I bolted into the tunnel, and it was only when I had run its entire length and out the other end that I turned and discovered I was alone. There was no sign of the demons, and no one else emerged from the tunnel after me.

"It was then I realised I was the only survivor.

"When I finally got back to the army, I related all that had happened in the pass, and I was sworn to secrecy not to tell another soul. The army never sent another team through that pass, and it has remained a secret all these years."

Sirannor lapsed into a long silence then; his tale finished. The four men stood in the middle of the road, patches of midday sun beating down on their heads, but none of them felt its warmth. There was a chill in the air, and it stemmed from more than Ferrian’s magic.

Aari shook his head finally. "But how can we use this pass? If your team were all killed by these demons, what makes you think the four of us would fare any better?"

Captain Sirannor sighed: the sound of dried leaves being crunched in a fist. "I have contemplated the events of that day many, many times since, and I still have no explanation of what the demon-wraiths were or why they attacked us. I am not suggesting that this is the most suitable course of action, I am merely offering you my knowledge of an alternative route.

"And I must correct you," he added. "My team were not all killed. I survived. My comrades made the mistake of attempting to fight the wraiths. We will not be so foolish. We will outrun them."

"Sounds like a suicide mission to me," Grisket said gruffly. He shook his head.

They all fell into a dark, brooding silence. Finally, Grisket looked up at Ferrian. "Ferrian, I may be Commander here, but this is your mission. What do you think?"

Ferrian had been silently thinking about all that Captain Sirannor had said while the others had been talking. Something strange was happening to him. He could sense something changing inside him, and he didn’t understand it, and he was terrified of what it might mean for him and for his companions.

He looked up into all their faces. "Four days ago we were back in Forthwhite and I thought I had some control over the Winter. I thought I could at least predict when it was going to happen. But now... now I don’t know what’s happening to me." He could feel a knot of despair and desperation forming in his throat, and he forced it away with an effort. He took a breath to steady himself. "I think," he went on, "that if I don’t find a sorcerer soon, a lot more people’s lives are going to be at risk than just ours."

He fell silent for a moment, letting his words sink into their minds. "If Captain Sirannor believes there is a chance - some chance, any chance - that we could make it past these demons, I think we should trust him. After all, he’s been there and seen them first hand."

Commander Trice turned and stared scowling off into the distance for a long time, considering Ferrian's words.

Finally, he turned back, and looked at them all in turn. "In that case," he said, "it's decided. We will take the path through Demon Heights."