“Good.” Galiana smiled confidently as if reading his mind. “Let’s pay the High Shin and his Pathfinders a visit, shall we?” As she gestured toward the door, she added, “Do not forget your weapons.”
Chapter 41
Uncertainty inched its way into Galiana with each step. After today, she was embarking on a road that might result in the world’s end. Well, they had to start somewhere.
Outside the Stoneman, Harval was surprisingly quiet. No smithies claimed the air with their weapon making. The wind swirled, its gusts swishing before becoming howls as it swept by the dark holes for windows in the cliff-face edifices. Each yawned empty and uninviting.
The sun bled gold and red into the sky and its feathery clouds. Colors to match the Dagodin filing across the bridge ahead of them. The town’s lower levels were devoid of any other people. Wherever the children lived in Harval, they remained indoors.
She led the way across the bridge and onto a short stretch carved between two buildings. The path was surprisingly empty of snow and slush. It ended at a wall, which became a fifteen-foot wide trail carved into the cliff itself and protected by an overhang that followed its length. In single file the others stretched behind her with Mirza first, then Ancel, Charra, and Ryne.
They traveled several hundred feet up, the town sprawling under them. If not for her knowledge, Galiana would have sworn the formations below were natural and not manmade. The bridges so much matched the ground, it was near impossible to tell them apart. When they gained the summit, a windswept, rock-strewn plateau spread ahead of them. Beyond that, the mountain continued to rise in stone and ice.
Dagodin and Pupae formed ranks on the plateau. Whereas the Dagodin sported their traditional garb, the Pupae wore various colors under their short cloaks and were separated by hue. Cool, diaphanous white, flaming orange, and yellow dominated. Of lesser note were sky blue, brown, robes of a shimmery material, green, and a deep blue that would match the sea. Each color represented an essence. At their head were at least two dozen crimson-garbed Ashishin. She ignored them and focused on the man and soldiers at the formation’s center.
In gray robes that only seemed to enhance how broad of back and shoulder he was, High Shin Cantor stood with an imperious air. He had neither cloak nor jacket. Ten bands of color made rings around his long sleeves in stark contrast to the obsidian skin of his pockmarked face. He displayed as much emotion as the silent mountain behind him.
Although High Shin Cantor appeared intimidating, the soldiers arrayed in perfect symmetry behind him could give anyone the chills. Except her. Silver armor reflecting the rising sun, each bore a sheathed sword at their hip. Whether they were male or female was impossible to tell. They wore full plate helms with a slit in the shape of a T where their eyes and nose would be. Darkness resided in each slit.
“Stay here.” Galiana stepped forward. All her life she relied on deception and misdirection in her ploys, from the staff that she no longer used as she feigned weakness, to her taking on the role of a retired Matii of no importance. Not today. Today would be different. A flutter inched through her belly with the thought. She held her head up, kept her back straight, met High Shin Cantor’s eyes, and smiled.
She connected with her body heat. Once the warmth spread evenly across her body, she slid the long leather cloak from her shoulders. It fell to the ground that was absent of snow or ice. As to be expected of the roads leading to a Travelshaft, the surface under her feet was solid, smooth, and black, curving down to either side. Her white robes shimmered, sleeves reflecting a living rainbow of color.
A collective gasp issued from everyone in attendance. Almost as one, they bowed from the waist. Some went down on one knee. Even the High Shin and Pathfinders. She basked in the response.
Murmurs rippled through the gathered masses. Galiana picked out the word ‘Exalted’. She could imagine the questions running rampant through their minds.
A smile spread across the High Shin’s face until his teeth showed. “You are supposed to be dead.”
“Am I now?” She returned the smile in kind. Despite who she was or had been, she was glad Cantor did not use her old title of Exalted.
“Very much so.” High Shin Cantor gestured with his head toward Ancel and Ryne. “I suppose this is what all the fuss has been about?”
“Partially. I assume you spoke to Jerem?”
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” The pockmarks marring Cantor’s face were so deep they often hid the changes in his expression as they did now. “He has arranged for protection by some old friends from the Nevermore Heights.”
“Really? And they agreed?”
“He did not give me the details, but they said the sole reason for their presence is that they have a friend of theirs here also.”
Galiana frowned. The one person among them who the Svenzar might know would be Ryne. “Have you spoken to them?”
“Yes. Their leader said he will speak only to this friend. Until then, they forbid us the use of the Travelshaft, saying they will guard it against us and any others.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “Well if that is their requirement, we do not have much choice.”
Events had been set in motion since the day she sent word to the Listeners. Cantor’s presence meant Jerem had prepared. There was no retreat now. They would garner what support they could from the seeds they’d sown among the Tribunal’s councils to see where that led. But the first true sally in a war to the end, a war between gods, netherlings, shadelings and men was soon to begin. Galiana resisted the urge to hug herself.
“Walk with me,” she said, striding between and past the Pathfinders. The dark slits within their helms revealed nothing, but she was sure they saw everything. Cantor followed. When she was out of earshot, she asked, “How are things faring at the Iluminus?”
“Not well I’m afraid. The Exalted sent Qunitess and a few others from the Assembly, myself included, and Irmina, after you and your charges. We were about to attempt your capture when something attacked us. We failed. Irmina said she sensed daggerpaws by the hundreds outside the cave we hid inside.” He paused. “But I saw Quintess wounds. Neither hers nor my own were from any creature I know. In fact, I am positive it was some kind of Forging used against us. One we were unable to defend against. We lost Neftana, a few Pathfinders, and the trackers.”
Galiana’s heart skipped a beat. She’d hoped Charra hadn’t harmed them. There was no more time for uncertainty or changes to their plans; she needed to know the daggerpaw’s true nature. “How is Quintess?”
“Alive but suffering within the Iluminus. There isn’t much she can do. She claims to have found some person who can finish our cause there, one the Exalted will not suspect.”
Galiana shook her head. After all their planning, so much relied on chance. Quintess always made the best decisions. She could not see the High Jin failing now. “I trust that she will be fine.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Mirza and Ancel watched her every move. “You should come meet them. However, be warned, the young Eztezian more than likely fears you and the Pathfinders, while his best friend hates you with a passion.”
“Stories about Pathfinders can be moving things, I suppose,” Cantor said.
“That’s not all. You took the younger one’s mother.”
“Oh. Have you told them?”
She arched an eyebrow. “How do you keep a secret that big, Cantor?”
“You tell no one,” Cantor said with a wry smile.
“Exactly. Now come meet them. They can use some reassurance.”