Stormchild: Emeline and the Forest Mage

13 Mountain

    The day has come. Well not the day, exactly. It was just after dark, one night after the raiders had ravaged Ysvallëi. The Ysberg Mountains loomed high over Emeline's head, like a shadowed beast. Their sharp peaks were pitch-black against the navy night sky, savage daggers cutting the firmament open. An overwhelming sight to say the least! Her small frame was rendered insignificant by its threatening majesty. She swallowed a burst of terror. I will not cry...I will not.

    Avétk stood beside Emeline in silence, glaring at the monumental wonder before them. His slack trousers, though washed, had new stains that had joined the old. New stitches patched up new tears and holes. One never wastes good material in the North. Besides, his sturdy leathers were the rarer kind. His arms were folded, as though he knew something everyone else didn't. As though he was in charge and deemed it below him to acknowledge the others.

    The stars looked more like unsieved white powder than the gleam of magic they'd once seemed to be. Emeline's fondness for the night sky had deteriorated to an indifferent bitterness. She sneered at it.

    Ketiya stood a distance behind them, drawing her negotiations with Kiester to a close.

    'Two gold coins for each, then,' she said, 'but only if you swear to shelter and feed them until we return.'

    Kiester nodded firm and sure, holding out her hand. 'I can do that for you, Kitty. You've been loyal in the past,' she rasped, 'but don't be gone as long as you were last time. I don't have endless supplies lying around you know. A woman's got to provide for her house, run a shrewd business. How can I make any money if I hand out kindnesses to every sweet poppet that happens on my inn?'

    Ketiya did not disrespect Kiester by allowing her emotions to show, but Emeline could see Ketiya baulked at the high price. Six gold coins would cover two years' worth of fodder. Ketiya agreed nonetheless and removed the coins from Avétk's pouch. They looked like dark drops of oil from Emeline's point of view, slick drops that slipped into the tough looking woman's outstretched hand. Kiester nodded sharply in a show of satisfaction and took the reigns out of Ketiya's outstretch hand. Abigail snorted a satisfied snort, Maxim looked aloof, and Avétk's trusty steed seemed as alert as ever. The three horses stood side by side, allowing the exchange as though they knew what was going on. Maybe they do know. Don't you Abigail. Abigail snorted again.

    Emeline did not know if she was relieved that Ketiya had finally finished, or terrified because they would have to face the dark mountain. Knots in her stomach had become a daily thing. Maybe she was getting used to feeling afraid and on edge, but the butterflies beating against her stomach wall did not bother her as much as they had used to.

    'Oh, and one last thing.' Kiester added. 'You might want to consider taking Brushä with you.'

    'Brushä?' Ketiya said, her misgivings obvious. 'He is so young. I don't know... We don't need another child to worry about.'

    'There's good reason behind my saying so. A few great snowfalls in recent times have changed the way over.'

    Ketiya looked amused, as the stocky woman explained.

    'Brushä has been earning copper coins by taking travellers over on the safest routes. He may be young, but that boy knows the Ysberg like the back of his hand. Sometimes I think my blood runs thin in him. He is more northern like his father. He is 'ysburger', a child of the mountain.'

    'Thank you Kiester,' Ketiya replied. 'I suppose if you put it like that, we most likely will need him with us.'

    Kiester nodded her firm agreement, a habit, Emeline noted.