The Emerald Legend (Book 1)

Chapter Sixteen: Ignite

The blonde-haired maiden and her snow rider made their way across the swaying and creaking bridge. As her feet met the dark rock-filled soil upon the other side, she knelt into the soot and caught her breath as relief surged through her.

Seian shook the dirt off of his fur and begun licking the matted areas around his paws. Amalia turned back towards the bridge and wondered what exactly had happened. The words of the golem replayed in her head: "You are not my master."

She turned back towards the dark entrance in front of her and it made her stomach churn; the thought of what lie inside that cave struck surges of unwanted fear throughout Amalia's body. She didn't want to go in, she didn't want to face whatever was inside. She knew this mountain was testing her—the King was testing her.

Despite that, she needed a break. She needed to rest and regain her strength. She scooted over to Seian and reached into the pouch on the side of his saddle, grabbing a small canteen of water. She unscrewed the metal top and took a few gulps. Seian looked at her longingly and she knew he too must be thirsty. She cupped her hand tight and poured some onto it making sure not to spill a drop. She held it out to him and he willingly dipped his tongue into it, gulping up the water until it was dry. She repeated the process once more for him until her hand was dry. Screwing the canteen's small cap back onto the neck of the flask, she slipped it back into Seian's saddlebag.

Amalia looked to the cave again and sighed reluctantly; she knew she had to press on, no matter what. There was no going back now, she simply didn't have a choice. She slowly rose and dusted off her already dirt covered tunic and her loose fitting slacks.

"We must press on," she said to Seian who watched her and somehow understood. He stood, ready to follow her.

On one of the walls just inside the blackened cave, she saw an unlit torch that was meant for a guided passage through what Amalia had assumed would be a pitch black hole. She walked over slowly to the entrance and eyed the torch as if just touching it would set off some chain reaction. Slowly and steadily she reached out to grab it, and to her relief, it was just a simple torch. She looked around for a means to light it and then looked back to the river of flowing magma.

On the side of the bridge Amalia was currently on—to her immense luck—there was a single solemn tree. She went to it and tore a long slender branch from its bundles. Walking over to the edge of the river, she slowly looked down into its crackling flow and shivered.

The branch was rather long, taller than herself, but she could still not reach the lava, not even after laying down and reaching as far as she could.

To the right she saw a small, rocky ledge where she could probably reach the flowing magma, but then the thought of falling into its clutches frightened her too much to try.

She tried once more to reach down over the edge, trying to see if the branch would light, but to no avail. She rolled onto the dirt and stared up into the sky for a moment. "Come on, Amalia, you can do this," she said to herself trying to boost her confidence. "You can do this," she repeated, regaining a bit of her strength as she sat back up.

Looking over the ledge, she assessed how she would go about getting down onto it. It would take all her efforts not to fall in, but by the way it was angled, she knew she could climb her way back up.

She knelt down before the ledge and slipped one foot out in front of her, followed by the other foot. She held the slim end of the branch in one hand and held it down with the thick end pressed against the bottom of the ledge. She used the branch as leverage as she slowly slid her way down onto the tiny platform below.