Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives (9 page)

As I close my eyes, I see Altair standing watch at the edge of the copse, staring back toward the road.

Doesn't that man ever sleep?

I'm out before I can come up with an answer.

10.

Altair wakes us an interminable time later.

"Wake up! Now!"

I bolt upright like a stepped on rake, my heart hammering, a million terrible scenarios blasting through my mind at once. 

Have
the Children found us?

Did something happen to Traylor?
 

"What's wrong?" I ask, breathless.

Altair simply shrugs. "Nothing. It's time to go." A hint of a smile curls onto his lips.

"Th
at's not cool," I grumble, scowling when I see a similarly mischievous look on Traylor's already woken face. 

Are these two conspiring against me now?

We munch quickly on the very last of our rations, and Altair mentions something about hunting and foraging. 

"Hunting's all on you," I say to him, "but foraging I can manage. I've worked in the Glass Gardens long enough to know what's edible."

Altair nods, actually seeming impressed. "Let's get moving," he commands. 

Traylor and I obey.
 

I don't know how long we've been asleep, but I feel more refreshed now than I have in a long time. Maybe Altair felt bad for marching us so heavily this past week.

Maybe the man has a heart after all. 
   

We make it to the road, pausing to make sure the way is clear, then continue just as we had the day before. We go on for a few hours in silence, simply enjoying the morning.
 

"Any sign of trouble while we were asleep?" I finally ask,
coming up next to Altair, matching his stern pace for the first time today. The mountains are not far off now, seeming to stretch infinitely to the sky. We'll be in the foothills in less than an hour, I estimate.

He shakes his head. "No, but I do not believe we are out of hot water yet. Before we left the road yesterday, I lost the trail of that man's horse."

"You mean the coughing man?" I ask to clarify.

Altair nods. "I think he may have taken a path off the road, but I cannot be
sure." There are multiple animal trails leading into and out of the grasslands along the road, but most are barely wide enough to accommodate a man, let alone a destrier. "Trackers cover themselves well,” Altair explains, “guiding their horses where they know a track is less likely to print." His words make me nervous. Until now, I’d considered Altair to be infallible; that nothing could genuinely harm us while we are in his presence. It turns out, unfortunately, that he
is
human, after all.

"Should we be concerned?" I ask, feeling a bit more anxious.

Altair shakes his head. "No. I do not think it will be a problem. In fact–"

KRAKOOOOM!

Something crashes into the dirt directly between us, sending up a spray of rock that I'm forced to shield my face from. Altair whips around instantly, pushing myself and Traylor behind him. His hands are a blur, producing the deadly throwing stars I'd seen him use only once before. Seconds later, the coughing man and his horse emerge from the tall grass a half mile down the road, holding something high and clear over his head.

A shooting iron.

The man lowers the weapon and points it directly at us. This time, the ground next to Traylor explodes in a pulverized hail. The man lets forth a spine tingling wail and kicks his destrier in the ribs, urging the animal into a charge. Altair holds his ground while Traylor and I begin to slip in the opposite direction. The horse keeps coming, and Altair raises his arm to fire a star. I sense that this is going to be over very quickly. Without warning, the coughing man pulls his horse to a sudden halt, still a good distance down the road. Altair lowers his arm and stands erect.

"H
e is just out of my range and he knows it," he says in a defeated tone. He watches as the man raises the shooting iron once more. "RUN!" Altair bellows. We do, dashing headlong down the road toward the Spine of the World. Altair remains at the rear, trotting behind just me. I hear another shot, but it doesn't seem to come near. I slow a bit and let Altair catch up to me.

"Shouldn't we try and lose him in the grass or something?" I ask, gesturing to the tall vegetation lining the road beside us.

"With our quarry on a destrier?" Altair replies in a mocking tone. "He'd be able to see us easily while we’d be left blind."

"Oh," is all I can come up with.

Altair frowns. "Don’t worry. I don’t believe he means to kill us. I think he merely wishes to
corral
us. Elsewise, he would have shot us down already."

"Corral us?" I ask, still running. "Where?" Ahead, the mountains are a lot larger than last I'd looked at them.

"A trap," Altair states matter of factly, adding nothing more. I almost put the brakes on, but Altair doesn’t falter so I keep up to him. Traylor, though his legs are short, has little trouble keeping up as well. He's used to people chasing him around Krakelyn, the little bastard.

I raise my eyebrows at Altair. "You
know
there's a trap up ahead and you're leading us straight to it?" There has to be something I'm missing, but Altair only nods, pulling away from me. "Thanks for clearing that up!" I call. I hazard a look back, seeing the man on the horse now trotting after us casually, not coming up on us like he very well could. He sees my scrutiny and aims the shooter but doesn't fire.

Altair is right. This man is simply coaxing us onward.

I look forward again to see that Altair is
way
ahead of us now, an indistinct blob on the horizon.

"Is he leaving?" Traylor asks, the panic prevalent in his voice.

"No," I say, trying to sound confident. "He must have some trick of his own waiting up ahead." I hope the words sound genuine, because saying them certainly doesn't feel that way. We've slowed to a brisk jog and the coughing man slows his mount accordingly, keeping us in range. I've lost sight of Altair, but the road is coming to a rise and he's probably just on the other side of it.

"Come on," I urge Traylor, pushing our pace
just a little harder. I start to puff. I can feel the air getting thinner. We must be getting close to the Bleaklands. Where is Altair? We crest the rise and what we find halts us dead in our tracks.

It's not Altair at all.
 

A massive canyon
lies before us, the first real influence the Spine of the World has on the terrain in this area. The canyon is spanned by an equally massive bridge, constructed of Sentinel logs and metal rivets scavenged from Forerunner artifacts. At the bridge's entrance, a posse of six men, all atop destriers of their own, waits for us. Shouts rise up at our appearance and the men point, two pulling out shooting irons, the rest producing bows or clubs. My heart wants to leap from my chest.

Altair, where are you?

As if in response, I hear a twig snap beside the road and a familiar, lanky shape appears from behind a leafy broadwood tree. It's Altair, carrying a strange object I've never seen before. It's clearly metal, but painted a dull grey with a curious tube-like attachment coming off the top, terminating in an equally curious triangular apparatus.

"Come! Quickly!" Altair orders. Traylor and I dash into the grass next to the tree without a word. Altair starts running a
nd we follow him, out into the grass, headed toward the canyon's edge. The shouts and cries behind us are growing louder and angrier. I quickly glance back to see that the posse had gathered at the top of the rise where we left the road. 

The coughing man is with them.
 

More shouts are produced, and then the men are following us into the grass. My adrenaline boosts and I want to push harder, but Altair is keeping the same pace, never panicking.

I'll have to get him to teach me how to do that sometime.

We're coming
up on the lip of the canyon now and, for the first time, I realize that we're headed for a potential dead end. Unless Altair has a way for us to get down the cliffside, these men will run us down in a matter of minutes! The grass ends abruptly at the rock, about ten feet from the edge. Altair waits for us to catch up to him then pushes us ahead, running along the cliff away from the bridge.

"What are w
e doing?" I call back to the man. I look down into the canyon only when I dare, the height otherwise dizzying. It seems as deep as the mountains are tall, a tiny, sinuous blue line marking a stream at the bottom. From what I can tell, there's no way down other than falling.

"Just keep running!" Altair calls back, still lugging that bizarre metal tank with him. I huff, but don't question it. He hasn't led us astray yet.

The ground begins to slope upward, rising higher in rocky steps. A massive report issues behind us, the step I'm bounding over exploding into rocky shrapnel. I scream but keep going, turning to see Altair whipping one of his Assassin stars at the man who'd just fired his iron, taking his horse in the throat. The man and animal topple as one. The other men take his place.

We can't win this
, I think, slowing a little.

Then
I'm slowing more.

It's not an intentional thing. I literally can't keep pace, finding it harder and harder to draw breath. Traylor, just ahead of me, seems to be in a similar state. I look back, my head swimming through jelly. Altair is behind us, waving for us to keep going as long as possible. The men on their horses are taking aim with their weapons.

Then something weird happens.

The
ir horses start dropping.

As if there are carpets being drawn from beneath their feet, the horses begin to tumble to the rock, one man sent reeling over the cliff. I can't hear his screams
though. I can't hear anything. It's as if my ears are stuffed with cotton. My vision is blurring too. I look down and realize I'm not running anymore. My face is on the ground.

"You did it!" an indistinct voice admonishes, a blurry shape pulling me over onto my back. "You did it." The shape pushes something over my face and, with a hissing crackle, air rushes into my lungs. The sensation is sweet but overwhelming.

I black out. 

11.

"She's coming around," a high pitched yet familiar voice says, shaking me. "Hey, you alright, Juno? Can you hear me?"

I open my eyes.

Traylor is leaning over me, grinning like an idiot. I scowl at him hard. "Yup, she's alright," Traylor says with a smirk.

I sit up.

The wo
rld swims across my vision. Disoriented doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling.

"Careful," another voice says. "You're gonna wanna watch your step up here." It's Altair. I can't see him, but his voice comes from the left. I turn my head that way and find I'm leaning against a wall, cold and smooth, pulling myself up against it. I get to my knees and sway, falling over in the other direction. My hands grope but find nothing as I tumble headfirst, the rest of my body following
–

I stop.

Something's snagged me by the belt, pulling me back. I come to rest against the wall again, seeing that it’s Altair that saved me. We're sitting in a cleft in a rock face, the floor a mere three feet wide from the edge. I lean out, guessing we're about halfway down the canyon wall. Above, a narrow chimney in the rock indicates that we’d actually
climbed
down here. I don't remember doing it.

"What happened?" I ask, still in shock. "How did we get down here?" The last thing I remember is seeing those men falling from their horses.

"The Bleaklands saved us," Altair answers nonchalantly.

"Yeah, and that iron lung of yours," Traylor interjects.

Iron lung?
I stare at Altair incredulously, my eyes falling to the dull grey object on the ground beside him. Traylor goes to it, grasping the clear, triangular object at the end of the tube. He puts it over his face and twists a knob, a hissing crackle the result.

"See?" Traylor says, taking a mouthful of gas. "An iro
n lung! It lets us breathe when there is no air!"

"Okay, Traylor," Altair admonishes, going over to the lung and twisting the knob back shut. "It's not a toy.
There’s a limited supply inside of it."

Traylor shrugs, stepping away.

"That's amazing," I say, recalling now that I had seen Altair put the mask over my face just before I'd lost consciousness. "Where did you come across such a device?" I ask, both curious and wary. This surely is an artifact of the Forerunners.

"It came from Everwinter," Altair answers, as if that was sufficient. "I always keep a few supply stashes ready in case I must travel across Bleaklands."

I take a deep breath, the air seeming just fine where we sit. "I can breathe. Does that mean we're out of the Bleaklands already?" I'm hoping I missed most of the trip whilst unconscious.