Winter Embers [ Book 2 ]

Chapter Twenty-Four

      They walked for what seemed to Claire like hours. The terrain was unforgiving and as the night dragged on it seemed to get colder and colder until even the warmth exuding from her father wasn't enough to drive the chill away.

      Every now and then they'd stop so Draz could rest. While the gash on his head was shallow, Claire suspected he had a concussion as he kept talking about feeling weak and dizzy. Better dizzy than dead, Claire thought more than once during that seemingly endless night.

      Just when she thought she could no longer bear the cold, the lights of a town came into view. First one, then two, then a dozen or more twinkled into existence the closer they drew.

      "We'll be able to get some rooms and supplies here," Xeiren explained.

      "How far are we from Ninguid?" Claire asked, the promise of a warm bed giving her a renewed sense of energy.

      "We're about ten miles from the base of the mountain," Xeiren replied. "It'll take us a day to reach it if we move at a steady pace."

      "We'll discuss our next course of action after some sleep and a hot meal," Valerick interrupted. "Which way to this inn of yours?"

      Xeiren motioned for them to follow. The dirt road they'd been following for the past hour or so began a slow, subtle transformation from packed earth to cobblestones. The town was quiet save for the sound of their own footfalls against the smooth stones. The only signs of life were the occasional silhouettes of figures as they moved past a window, the light within casting long shadows which danced across the street like some sort of ghosts on parade.

      In the distance, towering over the town with its menacing presence, was Ninguid.

      "It's nearly a ghost town," Rollan commented, voicing aloud what they were all undoubtedly thinking. Though he had spoken quietly, his voice sounded loud and out of place in the silence.

      "You're not wrong," Xeiren explained, adjusting the pack on his back. "Ten years ago the streets would have been filled with mill workers and lumberjacks coming back from their shift work."

      "What happened?" Claire asked, her interest piqued by the story.

      "No one really knows," Xeiren replied. "Some say people just grew weary of living such a hard, rustic life and moved on, other claims are much darker and talk of something disturbed... awoken if you will. Men would go into the woods to cut lumber and never return, forcing the families they'd left behind to leave everything and find greener pastures, in a manner of speaking."

      "Something like what? Like a monster?"

      "It's just a rumor, Claire," Valerick interrupted. "A poor one at that. It's easy to make up reasons that can be used as excuses, but the truth is those men probably froze to death or fell victim to some unfortunate accident." 

      "What's the matter, Val? Scared of the dark?" Draz said with a smirk.

      Claire's father said nothing, simply huffed and returned his focus to the road.

      "Like I said, no one knows for certain because no one who has ever faced the proverbial beast has lived to tell of it," Xeiren finished. "There it is, the White Stag Inn, nothing like your fancy hotels back in Avala but there are beds and a roof."

      Claire didn't care as long as she could get out of these clothes and into something warm. 

      "Once we're settled, I'll see about getting some supplies for the night, we'll have to wait until morning to get everything we'll need to venture into Ninguid," Xeiren finished as he pulled open the door and ushered them inside.