Dread Mountain

Crying out in horror, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine leaped from the rock and pounded down to the clearing. Prin was struggling feebly on the ground by the stream. Her wings were crumpled beneath her and she was making small, piteous sounds. Her eyes were glazed with pain.

The arrow that had pierced her chest had already fallen out. The wound it had left was small. But the poison the arrow carried had acted swiftly, and its terrible work was nearly done. Prin’s agonized eyes closed.

“Foolish child!” groaned Barda. “Jasmine, the —”

“The nectar —” cried Lief at the same moment. But Jasmine was already tearing the tiny jar from around her neck and tipping it over the little Kin’s chest. The last golden drops of the nectar of the Lilies of Life fell into the wound. Three drops — no more.

“If this is not enough, there is nothing more we can do,” Jasmine muttered, shaking the jar to show that it was empty. She ground her teeth in anger. “Oh, what did they suppose they would gain, shooting at her? They knew she must fall down here, where they could not get to her. Do they kill just for enjoyment?”

“It seems they do,” said Barda. “Did you not hear them laughing?”

Lief cradled Prin’s head in his arms, calling her back to life as once he had called Barda in the Forests of Silence. As Jasmine had called Kree on the way to the Lake of Tears. As Lief himself had been called in the City of the Rats. The nectar that Jasmine had caught as it dripped from the blooming Lilies of Life so long ago had saved three lives. Would it save another?

Prin stirred. Lief held his breath as the small wound on her chest began to close up and disappear. Her eyes opened. She blinked, looking up at Lief in surprise.

“Did I fall?” she asked.

“Prin, what are you doing here?” thundered Lief.

He saw her shrink back and cursed himself, realizing that he had fallen into the trap of letting fear and relief make him angry. Barda had done this not so long ago, in the Shifting Sands, and Lief had resolved that he would never do the same. So much for resolutions, he thought grimly.

“I am sorry, Prin,” he said in a gentler voice. “I did not mean to shout. But we have been so afraid for you. Have you flown all this way alone?”

Prin nodded, still eyeing him warily. “I followed you,” she said. “I could not bear to miss my only chance to see the Mountain.”

She looked around the clearing, drinking in the sight. Her voice was growing stronger by the moment. “I slept near you at Kinrest, and you never knew,” she went on gleefully. “But today the others flew so fast that I fell behind. I was so, so tired. And then the clouds came, and I was lost. Then —”

Her eyes widened in sudden terror. She clutched at her chest. Then she looked down and gasped as she saw that there was no wound to be seen.

“I thought I was hurt,” she whispered. “But — it must have been a dream.”

The companions glanced at one another. “It was no dream,” said Lief gently. “You were wounded. But we had — a potion that made you well again.”

“You should not have come, Prin,” growled Barda. “What would your tribe do if they lost you, their only young one?”

“I knew I would not be lost,” said Prin confidently. She clambered to her feet and looked around. “Where is Ailsa?” she asked, bouncing up and down. “And Merin, and Bruna? They will be very surprised to see me! They did not think I could fly so far.”

Without waiting for an answer she jumped across the stream and began thrashing around in the trees on the other side, calling.

“She does not realize they have gone,” Barda muttered to Lief and Jasmine. “No doubt she expected to return home with them. She will never find her way back alone. Whatever are we to do with her?”

“She will have to come with us,” Jasmine said calmly.

“But it is too dangerous!” Lief exclaimed.

Jasmine shrugged. “She chose to come here. She must put up with what happens as a result. The Kin spoil her, and treat her as a baby. But she is not a baby. She is young, but not helpless. She can be useful to us.”

She nodded over to where Prin was dancing in the stream, breaking off cones and leaves from the overhanging Boolong trees and eating ravenously. Already the little Kin had cleared a broad space among the prickles.

“You see? She can help us make a path,” Jasmine said. “If we follow the stream —”

“It is out of the question,” Barda broke in firmly. “I refuse to be burdened by another wilful child who has more energy than sense. Two are quite enough!”

Lief did not take offense at the grim joke as once he would have done, but he did not smile either. The idea of taking Prin up the Mountain was as unpleasing to him as it was to Barda.

Thunder growled above their heads. It had grown very dim in the clearing. The air was thick and heavy.

“Our first task must be to find some shelter,” Jasmine said. “The storm —” Suddenly she stiffened, her head on one side. She was listening intently.

“What …?” Lief began softly. Then he realized that the sound of the stream had become louder. It was rising every moment. In seconds it was as though water was rushing towards the clearing. A flood? he thought, confused. But there has been no rain yet, and in any case the sound is coming from downhill. How —?

Then he forgot everything as he saw Prin standing quite still in the middle of the stream, staring, startled, in the direction of the rushing sound.

“Prin!” he shouted. “Get out! Get out!”

Prin squeaked and half-flew, half-sprang, out of the water and onto the bank. At the same moment there was a roar, and a huge, glistening man-shaped horror came leaping into view, landing exactly where the little Kin had been standing and missing her by a hair. Growling in anger at having been cheated of its prize, the thing swung around, raising its ghastly head.

“Vraal!” Prin shrieked, her voice cracking in terror as she stumbled backwards away from the stream. “Vraal!”

Lief’s blood ran cold as he grabbed for his sword. The Vraal’s snakelike scales, dull green striped with yellow, shone evilly in the weak forest light. It was as tall as Barda and twice as wide, with hulking, bowed shoulders, a lashing tail, and powerful arms that ended in claws like curved knives. But the most horrible thing about it was that it seemed to have no face — just a lumpy, scaly mass of flesh, with no eyes, nose, or mouth.

Then it roared. The mass seemed to split in half like an exploding fruit as its jaws gaped red. At the same moment its eyes became visible — burning orange slits glaring through protective ridges and folds. It leaped from the stream, landing on the bank in a single movement.

Now Lief could see that instead of feet it had cloven hoofs that dug deeply into the soft, damp earth. They seemed too delicate to support such a huge body, but as it roared again and sprang forward, Lief put this thought out of his mind.

The creature was a killing machine. That was clear as day. It took no notice of the thunder that rumbled above the trees. Its evil eyes were fixed on Prin.

“Prin! Down!” roared Barda’s voice. Terrified into instant obedience, Prin threw herself to the ground as a blister flew above her head towards the Vraal. Barda had hurled the weapon with all his strength, but the creature leaped aside with astounding speed and the blister smashed harmlessly into a tree, the poison inside hissing as it trickled to the ground.

Cursing, Barda threw another blister — the last he had, Lief saw in terror. The big man’s aim was true, but again the creature leaped aside just in time, its hoofs digging great holes in the earth, landing firmly in another place. A place away from Prin, but closer to Barda.

Lief saw Prin scramble away and roll into the stream. She would not be safe there! He wanted to call to her to run, but did not want to turn the creature’s attention to her. Then, as he hesitated, he realized that the Vraal had forgotten all about the little Kin. Its orange eyes were burning as it turned to face the man it now saw as its chief enemy. The man who had tried to kill it with Grey Guards’ poison. The man who now stood facing it, sword drawn.

The creature’s lipless mouth stretched in a hideous grin and it hissed as it stretched out its claws, daring Barda to fight.