“Yes,” Fan’twar answered. “It would be wise to rest here tonight, then regroup on the morrow. Traveling up the mountain pass at night would be ill-advised.”
“But what if the bloodthorn has already made his way up?” I asked.
“I do not believe he has. It takes days to travel through the wilds, and several days more to travel from the elven kingdom into the pixie lands. If we are lucky, we have beaten him here,” Kull said.
As I stared up at the mountain, tinted purple by the setting sun, I couldn’t help but feel that Kull was wrong.
Beneath the mountain, the lights from the buildings twinkled in the distance, and we walked toward them. The chill air nipped at my face and hands, and my boots crunched over leaves and twigs as we drew closer to the town.
Fan’twar and the other dragons stayed behind to sleep on the hillside. I hoped their presence wouldn’t cause a stir as we entered the village. Near the town square sat a small inn, a cozy place with fireplaces and washrooms in every room. We made our arrangements, found our rooms, and then prepared for bed.
Sleep came quickly, for which I was grateful. I drifted off to the sounds of the crackling fire, praying that tomorrow would end quickly.
Chapter 27
The Wults, fairies, and elves gathered at the foot of the mountain as the sun rose. I stood with Fan’twar and the others as we looked over a map of the trails leading up the mountain, but each path stopped abruptly at the halfway point.
“This is the boundary of Silvestra’s land,” Fan’twar said. “Anything beyond this and leading to the summit is in her domain. I do not know how we will get past this barrier. We will have to deal with the dragon somehow, and it will come at a price—if she is even willing to speak with us and won’t attempt to kill us first.”
“We’re lucky we have you here,” I said.
“I doubt my presence will help—in fact, it may only anger her more.”
Kull studied the map, his eyes intense and focused. His studded leather vest conformed to his torso, and his damp hair still carried the faint scent of soap. Bloodbane was strapped to his back, its tarnished cross-guard a reminder of his Viking heritage. I tried to ignore both him and my fluttering heart but failed miserably at both, and instead I watched as he pointed out a bridge drawn on the map.
“This is the only passage I can find that leads to the mountain’s summit. Are there no other trails?”
“No. Only one path spans the chasm connecting the base of the mountain to its summit. The gorge here,” Fan’twar said, pointing at a jagged line drawn around the mountain, “is impossible to cross except by flight or over this bridge.”
Prince Terminus, who stood beside me, also studied the map. “Can we not just fly to the summit and be done with bartering with the dragon?”
“No. Her protection spell was created to deter both those who walk and those who control flight. If we are to reach the summit of this mountain, then we must cross this bridge. And the only way to do so is to get past the Silverwitch.”
“Silverwitch?” I asked, confused. “You said she was a dragon.”
“Silvestra is a dragon who prefers a human form, and she takes the form of a witch.”
“Does she also possess the magical abilities of a witch?”
Fan’twar nodded. “I am afraid so.”
Heidel glanced at us. “A witch?”
“It means she can wield black magic,” I said, “which makes her an exponentially powerful practitioner.”
“Like Geth?” Heidel asked quietly.
I only nodded. The subject of her abusive, dead ex was not a topic anyone wished to discuss.
“What more do you know of witches?” Prince Terminus asked.
“Not much. Most witches didn’t fare well, either on this planet or the other. They are powerful, yes. But they are also feared. And most witches on Faythander go insane.”
The fairy princess gave me a questioning glance. “How do you know these things?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. Admitting that my own mother was a witch was something I’d rather not divulge. I’d only recently learned the truth about my mom, and it wasn’t information that needed to be spread around, especially since the elven society had a standing order to execute witches.
“I’ve done some research into the subject,” I answered.
Fan’twar spoke up, changing the subject. “I do not believe it wise to fly up the mountain, for it may alert the dragon to our presence. She may see it as an act of defiance. We will travel the mountain paths with you.”
“Will you fit on the path?” I asked.
Fan’twar smiled, showing his teeth. “Dragons do not follow paths, they blaze their own.”
“That’s a lovely sentiment. However, I am afraid you may destroy our paths instead of blaze them. Aren’t you afraid you might be a little too wide?”
He huffed. “Wide?”
“I mean no disrespect. I’m only trying to be practical.”
“Well, you may be right. The other dragons will wait here. I shall travel up the mountain without them, and I shall tread lightly. Will that suffice?”
“It’s a start.”
“Very well. Shall we begin our journey up the mountain?” he asked.
“Yes, let’s do.”
We set off toward the mountain, falling into line one behind the other. Kull led the group and Fan’twar brought up the rear. Not long into our journey, we traded foothills for a rocky mountain path that was steep in places and gently sloping in others. Colorful fall foliage grew along our path, its woodsy scent pervading the air.
As we climbed higher, low-lying gray clouds rolled in, blocking out the sunlight. The scent of rain filled the air, though we avoided the storm. Lightning crackled through the gathering thunderheads, echoed by a deep, drawn-out thunder that shook the mountain.
Did the Silverwitch know we were coming?
We paused for a quick lunch of bread, cheese, and some dried fruit, and I found myself wishing power bars had been introduced on this planet.
