“Very well.” Druanna shaped the pile, flexed her will, and the hoary chunks of fibrous iron burst into pale white fire. Scorio immediately dismissed his darkvision. “Then I’d suggest you move fast and don’t stop till you find him.”
Scorio laughed in surprise. “You think we should go?”
“I think you are both remarkably talented Flame Vaults who have progressed further than you have any right to. Which, in turn, means you are headstrong and ambitious to a fault, and will only listen to counsel when you’ve no other choice.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” said Scorio, grinning ruefully.
“It was,” said Naomi. “She’s saying her opinion doesn’t matter. And she’s right.”
“See?” Druanna smiled, sat cross-legged, and pulled her silken black hair back to twist it into a knot. “Nobody ever made Imperator by being cautious or asking for permission. Now, do I think it’s a wise idea? Absolutely not. You know nothing of this environment, its dangers, or how to defend yourselves from them. But either you will figure it out as you go and survive, or you’ll reincarnate within a year back at the Academy. And so it goes.”
“True.” Scorio moved closer to the welcome warmth of the flames. The individual filaments of the fossilized iron burned bright as they ashed. “But seeing as we’ve decided to go, what’s your counsel on how best to survive?”
“You’ve hopefully been listening to my words as we’ve traveled. But in short: don’t stop and rest unless you have no choice. Take turns leading, but never be more than a yard or two apart. Watch for threats from the sky. And not just the Ferric Drake that’s been tracking us.”
“Ferric Drake?” asked Scorio. “You’re sure?”
Druanna’s smile was darkly amused from the far side of the flames. “It wasn’t going to be a problem for as long as you were with me. But alone? It’ll probably take its chances. You recall what I told you, yes? As big as my eidolon, but slender and fast as a striking snake. Its body is heavily armored by organic Iron, so your best bet is to outrun it or hit it as hard as you can on the snout when it goes to bite. That or the eyes, but those are further back and hard to reach. But.”
Naomi exhaled heavily. “And to be wary of its flame breath.”
“Correct,” said Druanna. “Hot enough to melt steel. It takes time for it to stoke up, and you’ll know it’s coming when its throat and chest begin to glow from within.”
“You’re not going to change our minds,” said Naomi.
“I’m not trying to. It probably won’t follow you into the tunnel, as most fiends fear the stench of the World Worm, but if your signal leads you away from the World Worm’s track, be wary. You’re also most likely to run into Chasm Scorpions inside the mountains; they prefer to lurk high up and ambush you from above. Actually, the same goes for Torments and Gasbags. They’ll all float down on you silently, coming in at an angle from just behind. Up is as dangerous in the Iron Weald as ahead and behind.”
“Oh,” said Scorio. “Torments? Gasbags?”
“You’ll know them when you see them. They’re most dangerous when they can ambush you, so if you’re alert, you should be fine.” Druanna considered, then shrugged. “I could go on, but I doubt you’ll remember all the particulars. Just move fast, stay wary, and reach the source of this signal as quickly as you can. And if the World Worm’s tunnel breaches any kind of artificial underground complex, stay out.”
“Underground complex?” Scorio leaned forward. “What do you mean.”
“Even I would hesitate to enter the old spaces beneath the Iron Weald. Not much is known about them, other than that they predate our written history, and that those who enter them more often than not simply disappear. So, simply put, stay out.”
“Understood,” said Scorio. He checked with Naomi, but her pale face reflected nothing but determination in the wan firelight.
“You’re welcome to wait till dawn with me,” said Druanna, “but there won’t be any light beneath the mountains. If you’re in a hurry, you might as well leave now.”
“Very well.” Naomi rose smoothly to her feet and began packing her scant belongings. “Thank you, Pyre Lady.”
“Right.” Scorio rose less confidently. “Thank you. For bringing us this far. How long will you remain at the Nightsong before heading out?”
“A day or two. It will be good to see old friends.” Druanna reached into the flames to adjust the chunks of iron, uncaring of the heat. “But then I’ll be moving on. I’ll leave word with them about you both. If this signal fails to pan out, feel free to search out the Nightsong and take advantage of my introduction. I have rarely asked anyone for favors, so my doing so now will carry weight.”
Scorio considered the handsome woman, and felt a pang at the thought of leaving her side. While traveling with the Pyre Lady he’d felt… free. Free of fear, of the burden of leadership, of having to make decisions. Her strength, wisdom, and decency had allowed him to relax.
Now they were going to spear deep into the wilderness without her, and their survival once again would depend solely upon their wits.
Naomi tugged on the straps that bound her bedroll tight, then slipped it over a shoulder. “I hope we see you deeper in hell, Pyre Lady.” She stood. “I’ve never wished that before of anyone but my closest friends, but I wish it of you.”
“High praise!” Druanna laughed. “I’ll miss you both. Move fast and hit them before they hit you.”
“Agreed.” Scorio slung his bedroll over his shoulder and rose as well. “My thanks, Druanna. Be safe.”
“There’s no safety out here in hell.” Druanna’s gaze was sober, solemn, almost sad. “None but that which your own strength carves from the world. But don’t worry about me. There are few fiends north of the Emerald Reach that concern me.”
For a moment, they stood thus. Scorio felt trapped by the firelight, but then Naomi took three steps away, glanced back at him, and he turned to fall in beside her. They strode rapidly along the edge of the World Worm’s profound furrow, remaining perhaps a handful of yards from its raw edge.
The warmth and light of the fire fell behind them.
Scorio resisted the urge to look back.
What was there to see?
Instead, he focused his darkvision and set to scanning their environs, slowly sweeping his gaze back and forth and occasionally up as they hurried toward the distant cliff face.
A thrill passed through him again. Naomi was by his side, and he trusted her with his life. Together, they were pressing into the unknown. Dangers abounded, but for the first time since quitting Bastion with Druanna weeks ago he felt truly alive, his senses raw, his body eager for tribulation.
They kept going faster, each pushing the other, till at last Naomi laughed and broke into a run, and Scorio chased after, exhilarated and restraining his own irrational glee.
Together, they raced alongside the furrow, the cliff looming ever higher before them. It was perhaps a mile away, and they crossed the space without incident, leaping over cracks, nimbly navigating the uneven terrain, till at last they slowed, not winded, but awed as always by the height of the wall that towered over them.
Straight up it rose, its face striated by vague intimations of architectural features, recessed alcoves and horizontal ledges, archways and follies. Higher and higher, miles high, disappearing into the night and radiating that unnatural cold that seemed to bake off its leaden side.
The World Worm’s tunnel dove just before reaching the wall itself, a shallow descent so that crumbling ground formed a tenuous ceiling over the last few hundred yards.
They stopped just before the rocky awning that stretched across the tunnel firmed up altogether.
“Down?” asked Naomi.
“Looks like it.” Scorio crouched and peered into the depths. How big was the fiend that had carved this passage? How had it carved through so much rock? At least a hundred yards wide, it was probably as deep, but his darkvision didn’t penetrate that far.