Fall of the Spectrum

Chapter Nineteen

Travelling along the Mrazian Border and then beyond the Selkie breeding grounds on the southern ridge took a lot longer than Phenex expected it would. Or cared for. Since the Selkie were in their breeding season as Hermes had pointed out earlier, approaching them for aid was a resounding negative.

So it was onto the Nixian Village, where Phenex doubted they would have much more success than they'd had so far.

It wasn't until the following morning that they reached their destination, cresting one of many snow-capped hilltops beyond the protection of Boreas's walls to peer down into the village below. For all intents and purposes, the Nixian Village reminded him of an old English town, like something right out of a Charles Dickens novel—only far less welcoming, given the steel fence that encircled the perimeter. More often than not, the Nixia stuck to their own; their own people and their own lands, though they were known for their compassion toward struggling outsiders, as well.

When they were in the mood, at least.

Gilgamesh was the first to descend the hill, his gold-plated armour clinking with every step as a fierce gust of icy wind blew shoulder-length black hair every which way. Exchanging a look with Hermes, Phenex shrugged and followed the Mesopotamian demigod onto the trodden path that ran straight through the centre of the village, Hermes close on his heels. Houses with gabled roofs and stacked apartments stood on either side of the path, some of them buried halfway up their doors from the constant squalling conditions of Gelida Vix.

"I've never seen it this quiet," Niv confided as she settled on Phenex's shoulder.

"Where do you suppose everyone is?" he asked, maintaining a steady gait as he glanced from one side of the street to the other. It was as Niv said: Not a soul to be seen, nor a sound to be heard beyond the trampling footsteps of the operatives behind them.

"I wonder if Boreas gave them advanced warning that we were coming." Gilgamesh turned his cerulean-blue gaze on Hermes, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"It's entirely possible," Hermes conceded, "though you would know better than I would. Is this the type of thing he'd do? Offer condolences that he can't help personally, then go out of his way to make sure no one will?"

"He is a politician." One corner of Gilgamesh's mouth twisted in a grin. "But no, he wouldn't have done it to prevent us from seeking the support we need. No doubt he meant for the village elders to prepare a welcome for us, not have them go into hiding the moment we got here."

"Doesn't look like everyone's gone into hidin'." Jev's voice sounded from right behind them, Phenex turning to follow the satyr's gaze.

A lone figure emerged from one of the smaller buildings toward the end of the path, wrapped from head to toe in a white and grey cloak of what appeared to be fenris fur. Living in the climate that they did, Nixian elves were one of the few species that would kill in order to survive, while most other elven species lived off the fat of the land, only taking the fur or feathers of those beasts who had recently shed them.

Hermes strode forward to meet the figure, putting out his hand in greeting. "I can't tell you how relieved I am that you've come to meet with us out here like this," he said, shaking the other's hand. "I assume Boreas sent word of our arrival?"

The figure's hood fell back when they nodded, revealing a young elven woman with hair the colour of cinnamon, almond-shaped eyes of moss-green scanning each of their faces in turn. "Indeed, he did. The village elders are expecting you. Is this your whole party, or will more be joining us?"

"If it is all the same to you, Miss...?"

"Niera," the elf supplied.

"Miss Niera." Hermes gave a slight bow of his head, Phenex noticing with no small amount of amusement as he tried to remain stoic in spite of his obvious discomfort, his entire body shaking with cold. "If it is all the same to your village elders, I would prefer that only the three of us"—he gestured toward Phenex, Gilgamesh, and himself—"accompany you, while the others seek hospitality in the home of one of your kinsmen?"