Within the Bone

XXII. A Foot in Each World

The sight of a faint curl of smoke drifting up past the trees that screened their view of the ruins sent a current of worry through Mara's stomach. "Someone else is out here."

Aallotar looked around, but there was no sign of any tracks on the lone game trail through the woods other than those of a rabbit. "They must have come before the blizzard. Not Caliban, then. He was abed when we left and I doubt he would move any faster in the snow than we did." She inhaled deeply and then frowned. "I smell only the forest. We are not close enough. Is there a village nearby?"

"Not this deep in the woods. Barri is the closest thing to civilization, and that's well more than a day behind us."

The wildling's furrowed brow was a reflection of Mara's own worry. "Perhaps a trapper or woodsman? Or Sammael's spy?"

"I hope that's all it is," Mara murmured. "At least Sammael's spy would be an ally."

Aallotar's golden eyes considered the trees and then her nostrils flared slightly, another attempt to detect anything. "There is only one way to know. Let us not go straight in, though. We should approach from downwind." A steady breeze had been blowing from the north all day, bringing with it a bitter chill that left Mara's metal bones aching. Even Aallotar, usually a furnace, had opted to pull on an extra layer of fur over her mail hauberk.

This close to where Sammael's map said the ruin was, both of them had prepared for trouble. Aallotar was armed and armored, while Mara carried her bow across her back along with a borrowed sword and shield. The sorcerer wasn't certain her sword arm would be any good between the cold and the burns. Hopefully, there would be no need for them at all.

After spending so much of her youth as a hunter, Mara was in absolute agreement of the approach from downwind. She let Aallotar lead the way, breaking trail in the shallower forest snow for her. Here the pines grew so thick that the branches had kept the white death only knee-high, creaking ominously above under the weight of their burden. After living so close to each other, it was easy to move together, and the breeze through the trees masked the sound of Aallotar's armor moving, at least for now.

They made it through the bulk of the forests before the scent hit Aallotar's sensitive nose. "Smoke and beasts," she whispered. "There is something else. The smell of mennskr, but...not like the ones of the Red Mountains."

Mara kept her voice barely audible. "What do you mean?"

"They smell like Theudhar and his warg," Absolute certainty weighted every syllable from Aallotar. She frowned, concentrating, and pulled in another deep breath. "There is something else. Something strange."

Mara's heart sank. So the servants of the Princes of Iron had found this place before they had. "A demon?"

Aallotar shook her head. "I do not know," she said quietly. "It makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise."

"We'll be careful." The sorcerer wished her arm was in better condition. She would have rather liked to have use of her bow right now, just in case, but that sounded as painful as the sword. "If all else fails, we can fight, but I'd rather not."

"Not if they are even half the warrior that Theudhar is," Aallotar agreed, creeping north through the woods towards the trail of smoke.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, they managed to find a rise and a rock formation that gave them a view down to the ruin itself. The earthquake's damage was immediately obvious: half a hillside sheared away from the base of one of the Red Mountain's larger peaks, exposing an archway that gleamed in the sun like silver and the ruined remains of an outer wall. Behind it was a door set into the stone of the mountain itself, not unlike Sammael's home itself. Someone had excavated the stairs leading down to it. A short distance away was a camp, comprised of six wargs and their riders: tall, red-skinned men covered in furs and smoke-dulled steel.