King Of Souls (Book 2) (29 page)

The bear cub stood perched on a small dark rock protruding mere inches from the smooth rock face. The bear, rather than displaying fear, cocked her head and watched Ronan as if waiting.

Ronan let loose a short laugh. “You expect me to follow you? I’m sure you make a living hopping around mountain peaks, but I can’t do that.”

The bear cub’s white shaggy mop fluttered near her eyes, and she blinked. Without the slightest hesitation, the bear spun, and hopped finding a second rock two-feet below.

Ronan gazed upward scanning the mountain face for an alternate route, but a sheer flat surface offered no path. “I suppose I’ve no choice have I?” He moved to the platform’s edge placing his palm flat against the rock face. He channeled magic into his body increasing his balance, strength, and coordination. Ronan raised his right boot off the platform where it hovered thousands of feet over the sea’s crashing waves. He pulled in a short breath and leaned forward finding the rocky stub the bear cub had used and jumped.

In midair, Ronan’s stomach lurched and he gasped. With a thud, his boot landed on the rocky nub. He flattened his trembling arms against the sheer rock face and hovered frozen. He forced his eyes ahead refusing to look down.

Adrenaline raced through his body, and sweat trickled down his face despite the cold gusting wind. What he wouldn’t give for Rika’s magic right now.

The bear cub hopped lower, turned, and waited for Ronan on the next foothold.

Ronan jumped to the next foothold left free by the bear cub. He teetered on landing before bracing his body against the smooth rock face. He paused, inhaling a short sharp breath of cold air and forced himself to calm.

The bear cub bounced down two more footholds before stopping on an ice shelf large enough for her to sit comfortably. She spun in a circle and plopped down tilting her head and watched Ronan’s struggles as if with great interest.

“Do you find this funny? Is that it? Ha ha. I’m glad my fear is so entertaining.” Ronan hopped again following the bear cub’s clever map.

Ronan and the bear cub continued their trek downward. They descended a cliff so sheer even the bravest mountaineers would consider it a suicide mission. But, thousands of years of breeding and instinct gave the baby ice bear insight enough to make the climb appear child’s play.

The bear cub hopped onto a narrow path leading to Moira’s camp below.

With a final hop, Ronan’s ice-covered boots landed on a path he’d once considered narrow. It now appeared a thoroughfare wide enough to support a full oxen team. His muscles eased as he gazed upward scanning the mountainside above. He could no longer find the ledge from where he’d started.

The bear cub settled her rear-end atop Ronan’s right boot and sat, peering up at him. Her shaggy hair fell away revealing a pair of clear, sky-blue eyes. Eyes that betrayed far more intelligence than Ronan had believed possible.

Ronan knelt and scratched behind the bear’s ears. “I underestimated you girl. Thank you for saving me.”

The bear cub licked his palm, stood, and bounded ahead toward the campfire and Moira’s sled.

Ronan broke into an easy trot and followed. He descended the steep slope and hope surged in his chest. “Moira! I’m back!”

The embers Ronan saw from his small platform had died, cooling into lifeless dark lumps. The sled, heaped with Moira’s furs, remained untouched.

Ronan moved past the fire and knelt beside the sled. “Moira, I’m back. Are you okay?” He pulled back the top layers of fur.

Piles of empty blankets and furs mocked Ronan. Moira had vanished.

***

Mounds of empty fur sat heaped atop Moira’s sled.

Ronan’s stomach sank.

Full supply packs leaned against the sled untouched.

The sickening thought that Moira might have followed him inside the ice cave left him numb. But, he couldn’t imagine another result. If she’d climbed toward the summit, she would’ve taken supplies with her. Wouldn’t she?

The ice and snow surrounding the sled remained unblemished. Any hope of footprints aiding Ronan’s search disappeared.

Ronan circled the campfire and scoured the upslope. He searched for signs of movement, but besides his boots and the bear cub’s claw marks, no sign existed.

That she hadn’t left any footprints seemed odd. But, given her sleight weight and the gusting winds, her trail could’ve vanished. Ronan hadn’t any real tracking skills, but Rika could’ve found her.

The thought settled a heavy ache in his chest. Standing before a cold dead fire and an empty sled wouldn’t provide him answers. If she’d searched the ice cave for him, he couldn’t save her now, and Rika needed him.

Ronan knelt beside a heavy pack holding his and Moira’s food and loosened the leather straps. He pushed aside a frozen loaf of bread, a hard block of cheese, and a pouch packed full of jerky strips. Near the pack’s bottom Ronan touched slick wax paper. He’d watched Moira use it to preserve three silvery trout earlier in the week.

As the sealed wax paper moved free of the pack, the bear cub raised her shiny black nose skyward and sniffed. She danced back and forth before the covered fish and reared up on her hind legs as her mother had done hours earlier. She loosed a high-pitched growl shifting her gaze between Ronan and the fish.

“Don’t worry, this is yours. I wouldn’t let you starve after you saved my life.” His words sparked warm memories from his time spent in Rika’s room almost six years ago. The day he met her, and his life changed forever. She’d fed and cared for him after his disastrous encounter with the bullies in Old Town. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Ronan had intervened to save Rika’s life that day as he’d done with this little bear. What if he’d made a different choice that day in old town? What would’ve become of Rika?

A wave of heavy longing rolled through his thoughts. He shook the memories away, but heartache lingered. The hunger he’d felt an hour earlier fled, replaced with knots of worry. Ronan ripped the wax paper’s seal, pulled free a frozen fish, and tossed it toward the bear cub.

She caught the fish mid-flight and snapped it in half with tiny razor sharp teeth. The bear cub swallowed huge chunks of fish gobbling it down in under ten seconds. She sniffed the ice searching for any sign of dropped fish tidbits. After finding none, she waddled over to Ronan and placed her furry paws on his knees. She craned her neck toward the remaining fish clutched in his hand.

Ronan tossed the second trout to the bear cub before opening the jerky pouch and forcing a brown strip into his mouth. He chewed letting his warm saliva work on the frozen strips until he could swallow.

The ice bear finished the last bites before settling on the packed ice near Ronan’s feet. She rested her chin on the snow and watched him eat.

“At least one of us has an appetite.” Ronan shoved a final piece of jerky into his mouth and chewed scanning the darkness above the sea.

Howling wind filled the empty night sky, but no dragons descended on him despite Moira’s protests that she escort him.

Ronan rubbed his leather belt pouch feeling the bulge where the dragon statuette rested. Moira must’ve known they might become separated. Is that why she gave him the dragon figurine? Could he use it somehow?

Ronan stood and unfastened the pack from the sled’s base.

The bear cub raised her head following Ronan’s movements.

He tossed the pack over his shoulder and tightened the strap before glancing in the bear cub’s direction.

She cocked her head giving him the same inquisitive look she’d used on the cliffs.

“Come on girl. We need to keep going and find Rika.”

As if understanding, the bear cub stood stretching her short forearms and padded forward. She waddled past Ronan and up the steep slope toward the summit of Dragon’s Peak.

***

As the sun moved beyond the sea’s eastern horizon, dawn’s first rays settled on towering mounds of pure white bone.

Ronan’s stomach lurched. He’d no doubt found the right place. He swung his leg onto a wide stone terrace and heaved his body over the edge. Ronan freed the loaded pack from his shoulder and eased it onto the warm smooth rock beside him.

The pack’s leather flap stirred, and the bear cub’s head popped free. She peered out at one of many bone mounds dotting a rocky open expanse.

Ronan laid still pulling in short shallow breaths of ever thinning mountain air. His climbing had slowed during the short night. The high altitude’s extreme lack of oxygen drained his endurance. During the climb, he'd leaned heavily on his enhancement magic. Without using Elan’s magic, he couldn’t have continued.

The cub leaped free of the pack and scuttled forward. She sniffed near the base of a twenty foot mound of dry, cracked shark and whale skeletons.

Ronan had expected heavier amounts of snow and ice as he approached the summit. Instead, a carpet of loose white bones spread out between massive bone piles. A graveyard of sea creatures stretched out in a wide arc circling the summit’s rim.

Ronan stood, scooped up his pack, and continued forward. Bones crackled and popped beneath his feet as he navigated a maze of decades-old bone piles.

During their summit climb, the bear cub had led the way. She moved behind Ronan now, hopping from one patch of exposed rock to the next careful to avoid the bleached white bone.

As Ronan circled a thirty foot bone mound, he couldn’t imagine a circumstance that allowed for Rika’s survival. If dragons didn’t hunt humans, maybe they’d mistaken Rika for a meal while she flew in bird form. Ronan kept his eye out for any human remains, but with many thousands of scattered bones, he couldn’t tell them apart. He turned his gaze upward beyond the bone mounds and paused.

Fifty-feet ahead, a constant stream of white smoke billowed skyward.

Ronan broke into a trot as bones cracked and rattled beneath his heavy footfalls. After many days traveling through packed snow and ice, the thought of fire burning at the summit left him feeling uneasy. What fueled it?

The bear cub strained to keep pace and abandoned her strategy of holding to the exposed rocky patches. She tumbled and skidded forward struggling over the bone carpet. A high-pitched moan escaped her throat as if seeking Ronan’s help.

Ronan paused and pulled open the pack strapped across his shoulder. He scooped up the ice bear and slid her inside. “Better?”

The bear cub licked Ronan’s face and nestled inside the pack. Her eyes peered out above the leather satchel’s rim.

Ronan ran faster while piled-high mounds of yesteryear’s dinner flashed by. He kept his focus locked on the billowing smoke near the peak’s heart.

The bone piles dwindled in size, but grew fresher in age. Sinew and flesh clung to month-old carcasses, and the ripe stench of death hung heavy in the air.

Ronan channeled magic and deadened his sense of smell then paused as a thought struck him. He reversed the magic increasing his sense of smell and took a deep whiff. He should smell smoke, but only the nauseating stench of rotting flesh filled his nose.

Steam, not smoke, jettisoned upward in billowing white plumes. The shallow carcass piles revealed a twenty foot wall of black rock looming beyond the bone carpet. The rocky wall, composed of thousands of stacked black boulders, surrounded the peak’s summit.

Ronan didn’t need to guess the creature lurking behind those walls. His thoughts drifted to Moira and her insistence she make the journey with him to Dragon’s Peak.

A short shiver set his flesh crawling. He pushed aside the dread and trotted forward. He stopped before the unnatural wall separating him from the dragon’s roost.

Stacked boulders stretched in an unbroken arc extending dozens of yards in either direction.

Ronan placed his glove against the stone, and warmth radiated through to his fingertips. He glanced over his shoulder and found a white shaggy mop a few inches from his nose staring at him. “Any ideas? You’ve led me this far.”

The bear cub nestled lower in the pack before ducking her head letting the pack’s leather flap close atop her head.

“I guess you’ve earned this one off.” Ronan adjusted the pack on his shoulder and set off in a clockwise direction.

As Ronan followed the strange wall, new sections revealed themselves. The wall’s upper edge varied in height ranging from twenty feet at its lowest point to thirty feet at its highest. Boulders of varying size made the wall look thicker or thinner in sections, but remained impenetrable.

Behind Ronan, the Araxis Sea slid away. The peak’s southern view came into focus. Leagues of rough mountain terrain stretched to the horizon.

Ronan froze and drew in a short sharp breath. He stared wide-eyed at the unmeasurable expanse.

Jagged snow-tipped peaks stretched in endless succession.

Ronan could finally appreciate Sir Alcott’s lesson on the dangers and wonders of the Adris Mountains. In recorded Meranthian history, no human had discovered the range’s southern end. By land and sea, countless expeditions had tried, none had achieved measurable success.

A horrible thought struck Ronan, and his stomach sank. Finding Rika among an endless sea of mountain peaks seemed hopeless. How many dragons occupied the Adris Range? He believed the dragons had carried Rika to this peak’s summit, but he couldn’t guarantee it. If she lived, nestled beyond this dragon wall, whisking her to a different peak seemed a logical step. The dragons could hide her forever, flying her all over the Adris Mountains. Without Rika’s help, he might live out his days forever roaming Dragon’s Peak with no way down.