saddlebag for an extra layer of clothing, pulling out a ragged fur coat that looked as if it had seen too many trapping expeditions. That, or its donor had been trapped on a particularly bad hair day. She slung it on. The thing stank to the high heavens but did the job.
In the absence of the bamfcat, Kali had to rely on her own tracking skills to keep on Merrit Moon's trail, secure in the knowledge that as no one dared venture far up into these mountains the signs of passage indicated by dislodged rocks, broken branches and disturbed patches of scree — eliminating those caused by whichever wild animals lived on the mid-slopes — were most likely his. It was possible that as humans were such rare visitors to these heights, those same wild animals were wary of approaching for fear of their place in the food chain, and for the most part Kali managed to avoid encounters with local predators, driving off the odd pack of shnarls or curious bugbear with a wave of her knife and suitable warning noises. Only once did she pause warily, when from far above she heard the haunting echo of what sounded like prolonged screams. They, though, could equally have been the carrion calls of the strange birds that circled high above. In this place, it was difficult to tell.
Birds or not, Kali picked up her pace. Thankfully, tracking the old man became even easier when, after a further three hours' climb, she came across convergent tracks coming in by a different route, vaguely to the west. Seven people, six men and the smaller, slightly lighter tread of a woman — and horses — heavily equipped. It did not take her long to work out who they might be. Munch was probably using one or more shadowmages to track Merrit Moon, and, despite her fears for him, for once she was grateful for the presence of threadweavers as from there on in their talents resulted in the old man's trail being overlaid by the footprints of his pursuers, making it as obvious to follow as a flaming torch in the dark.
A flaming torch would have been something she'd have been very grateful for at that moment, because Kali was approaching the ice-slopes now, the snow that had become thick beneath her tread taking on the greater solidity of permafrost. A blizzard had begun to howl about her, too, and she huddled inside her furs as she tramped ever upwards, squinting to see past the needle-like flurries that threatened to white-out everything before her. Then, suddenly, she spotted something in a rockface ahead — the dark and variously shaped outlines of what could only be cave mouths. What was more, the trails of the old man and his pursuers — plain on the slight plateau that led to the caves — vanished right into one of them.
Kali's heart thudded and she hurried forwards, relief that she had at last caught up with the old man tempered by the worry that Munch's trail appeared to be only minutes behind his, and she hoped to the gods that she wasn't too late. But she had only taken a couple of paces when her foot crunched on something on the ground, and what she saw when she looked down made her momentarily pause.
The icescape about her was dotted with bones, human and animal, mainly old but some not so, seemingly torn from their respective bodies and stripped utterly clean, some lying in small piles, others resting alone where they had been dragged by… something. What was the most disturbing was that the something had precisely the same odour about it that had stopped the bamfcat in its tracks far below.
Here, the air was redolent with it, its strength almost overpowering. Kali trod cautiously in the direction of the cave, without doubt the source of the stench. She entered slowly, eyes alert for any movement or sound in the darkness. But she saw nothing, and the only sounds were those of her own feet crunching on the tinier deposits on the bone-strewn floor, along with a languid and incessant drip-plop-drip from the moisture-laden ceiling that echoed hollowly within the rock.
There should have been no light to see by, but as Kali inched her way inwards, her knife at the ready, she saw that the cave was illuminated by a dull green glow emanating from crystalline formations in the rock. It was hardly daylight but it was bright enough to stop her stumbling blindly over the body that lay mutilated on the cave floor a few yards in.
Merrit! she feared instantly, but quickly realised that it was not. Instead, she looked down at the body — the remains of a body — of what could only have been one of Munch's party, the corpse lying broken and missing an arm and both legs, eyes staring blankly and mouth frozen in a rictal, agonised scream. A black and glistening trail of blood led further back into the cave, and Kali guessed that the poor woman had tried to drag what remained of herself to safety.
Not Merrit. Merrit would not be capable of this.
There was nothing she could do for the woman, so Kali closed her eyelids and moved on. But it wasn't long before she came across another body, and then another, each in an equal or worse state of mutilation. Like the first, they appeared to have been trying to drag themselves to the exit but had never made it, the loss of blood from their amputations too great. Something in this cave had torn them apart like mools in a slaughterhouse, and it was beginning to look like it, not Munch's people, was the biggest danger here.
Kali could feel every fibre of her being warning her to get the hells out of there, but she knew she had no choice but to carry on, to find Merrit Moon, whether he was alive or dead. But as it happened, she did not have to look much further. No more than ten yards on, the cave opened out into a chamber where she found three more bodies heaped together in a small pile, almost indistinguishable from each other, they had been so badly torn. And next to them, covered in their entrails, lay Merrit Moon. The old man was face down on the floor, a staff and opened backpack scattered beside him, a dark pool of blood seeping from beneath his torso. But he was breathing shallowly. He was alive. Just.
'Oh gods,' Kali said. She hurried to him and turned him gently over, cradling the back of his head in her palm. The old man sighed and his eyes fluttered open slowly, focusing on her with difficulty. From his complexion he had lost a lot of blood.
It was clear nothing could be done. Merrit Moon was dying.
Kali swallowed.
'Hey… old man,' she whispered.
Moon coughed. 'You have the smell of Vos about you,' he said slowly, having to force the words out. 'Have you ridden my faithful friend somewhere less than healthy once again, young lady?'
'No, Merrit, Horse… I mean, yes. But don't worry, Horse is fine… fine. He's waiting for me.' She hesitated. 'He's waiting for you.'
Moon smiled. 'You've been looking after him?'
Kali nodded briskly, trying not to let him see her tears. 'Of course I have, you old fool. Bacon stew every day.' She stared at her mentor, aware that they were both avoiding the issue, and what she really wanted to say erupted out of her. 'Pits, old man, I told you not to come here alone!'
Moon shook his head, took her hand. As he spoke, his tongue clicked dryly in his mouth. 'Here or elsewhere, it would not have mattered. It wasn't the mountain's cold embrace that finished me, Kali. It was the cold embrace of steel.'
He slowly pulled up his tunic, wincing as the cloth tore from drying blood. Kali stared at three distinct puncture wounds in his torso — two in the gut and one near the heart — fury rising. The shape of the blade that had made them was unmistakable — a jagged-edged gutting knife. The worst thing about them was they could so easily have been killing blows but weren't — Moon's soon-to-be murderer had inflicted these mortal wounds and seemingly left him here to die.
'Munch,' she hissed.
Moon nodded. 'Kali, he took the key. Knew I had it…'
Kali sobbed. 'I told Munch about you, old man. Gods help me, I didn't mean to but I told him.'
Moon stroked her cheek. 'Hush. Whatever you did, I know you couldn't help it. I told you, the Final Faith are zealou — '
'Damn them!' Kali shouted, interrupting him.
'Hush,' Moon said, again. 'Hushhhhh.'
'Don't hush me! Damn you, Merrit Moon, stop treating me like a baby!'
Despite his dire state, Moon chuckled, coughed, his breath rattling. 'Actually, I'm trying to save your life,' he said. His eyes seemed to lose focus on her, stare beyond her. 'More outbursts like that one and you'll… arouse them.'
'Arouse them? Who?' She pointed at the bodies. 'Are you talking about the things that did this? Merrit, for the gods' sake, what happened here? What killed these people?'
Moon sighed heavily, seemingly losing the thread. 'The key. I meant to take it deeper… to where they live… but these old muscles are slow and Munch and his men weren't far behind… they found me here before I could…'
