“I know,”Cyrus said, “You did the right thing. It’s not your fault this whole plan’s turnedto rot.”
Cyrus’thoughts turned inward. He wished to Kingdom things had gone differently. Itwas bad enough they were wading into an army of battle-hardened klops, mutated and modified by some shadowy villain, butnow they had revenge-thirsty yeti hounding their heels as well. How were theysupposed to find a yeti named Gammal, and ask for hisknowledge of the lost hune, when they had murderedhis kin, and his people wanted them dead? Was Cyrus even taking them in theright direction?
Fibian reached out and touched a branch. Several strands of brown hair werecaught up in a sapling beside the trail.
“Deer fur,” hesaid, with a subtle smile, “We are on the right path.”
Was Fibian a mind reader as well?
They pressedon in silence, following the path into a steep valley. Cyrus kept fearing thata yeti would spring out of the shadows at any moment, or that an arrow wouldsuddenly puncture his chest. The trail twisted through delving ravines andacross icy creeks and streams until finally they came to a frozen river.
Patches wherethe river was too fast to freeze revealed the rushing water beneath. As thetrio hiked north they kept to the eastern shore, using the forest for cover,but in places where the woods were too thick to push on, they were forced to traversethe ice-covered run.
Wild anderoded, the river’s banks exposed starved roots and permafrost. Cyrus tooknotice of the gray, leafless bushes growing along the water’s edge. Thetangled, bone-like shrubs reminded him of HekswoodForest. Would he ever see home again? Was there a home to go back to? Sarah…
The moon beganto set and a gray fog rolled into the trees. The river hit a craggy mountainsideand cut into a steep, narrow ravine.
“It sounds likeit becomes a waterfall back there,” Cyrus said, trying to spy around the bendin the gulch.
Fibian took the lead, with Edward on his shoulder, climbing up the hill’s jaggedface. Evergreens grew twisted and tortured from the stone visage, their roots thickand desperate, as the branches strained to reach the light. Several feet above,the three came to a plateau. Out of the foggy dawn, a towering waterfallspattered the exposed hillside, creating a bed of icicles in its wake.
“How high doesit go?” Edward asked, looking heavenward.
“It’sbeautiful,” Cyrus said, tracking the fall’s dizzying descent down themountainside, into the crystal-clear waters trapped within the crushing gorge.
Fibian spun backward, crouching low.
“What is it?”Edward whispered.
“I do notknow,” the froskman replied.
He stood stonestill for several moments.
“We shouldkeep moving.”
Cyrus readiedhis crossbow and scanned the trees.
“Yeti?” heasked.
“It is hard totell.”
Quickly, butcarefully the adventurers scaled the mountain. Edward watched their backs fromthe collar of Fibian’s jacket. The wind grew andstarted to batter the snowy ridge. The forest thinned with each step. Higherand higher they climbed alongside the soaring fall.
Aroundmidmorning, snow started to pelt them like hail, hindering their journey. Theycrawled on all fours, clinging to rocks and roots as they followed the waterwayskyward. Sometimes, Cyrus slipped and knocked his knees, other times he slid,barely able to regain his footing.
As middayarrived, they struck a dead end on a fog-cloaked cliff. Cyrus could hardly keephis eyes open.
“Where tonow?” he asked, peering over the bluff, into the cloud below.
Fibian’s glowing eyes became wide and searching.
“Something isnear,” he whispered.
Cyrus looked about,feral and desperate. His limbs tingled with the desire to run. There wasnowhere to hide!
“There was ahollow in the hillside, a few hundred feet back,” Edward said, his voice almostswept away by the wind.
The snowswirled around the three friends like a mad wraith. Cyrus fought to see beyondthe white. Fibian tucked Edward into his collar anddrew his hood over his head. Then he grasped Cyrus’ elbow and pulled him back downthe trail. They leaped off the path and scrambled up a steep slope. Then theycrawled within a shallow, cave-like feature, below a granite shelf. Cyrus drewhis knees to his chest, sheltering himself from wind and sight. He was unableto avoid the cold. He aimed his crossbow outward and searched the storm beyond.
“Do you see orhear anything?” he asked Fibian.
The froskman curled up beside him, his crossbow too at theready.
“Nothing,” hesaid, “And I cannot catch its scent. It sounded large.”
Edward peeredout of Fibian’s collar, his fur bristled and his eyesprobing. The cold bit at Cyrus’ face. He was surprised at how well the furskept in his heat. He rested his head against the stone. His eyelids began todroop. He would just rest his eyes a moment…
‘BANG!’
“What was that?”Cyrus said, springing forward.
“Yeti,” Fibian replied.
Chapter 9
THE PASS
CYRUS’ EARS WERE ELECTRIC.The windhowled and clawed at the mountainside. He heard the crunch of footsteps fromthe ledge above. Fibian motioned for silence.Overhead, a clump of snow fell from the lip of the shelf. The thing was rightabove them. Cyrus held his breath. His weapon shook in his shuddering grip.
HAA-WHHOOOOOO!
“Wolves,” Fibian whispered, gripping his crossbow.
The sounds ofbarking and snapping came from overhead. More snow brushed from the ledge. Awolf snarled with fury. The ruckus receded into the storm. Cyrus’ heart thuddedin his chest. Fibian abandoned cover. He movedcrouched to his right, along the earthy slope. Cyrus clutched his crossbow andfollowed. The ground leveled off. Cyrus and Fibianpeeked over the granite ledge. Edward crawled onto Fibian’sshoulder. The blizzard revealed little.
“There’s toomuch wind,” Cyrus said, snowflakes stinging his face, “Everything’s being blownover.”
“There,” Edwardsaid, pointing.
A trail ofblood led east, around the mountainside. A muffled snap, like a cracked stone,rang in the distance.
“What wasthat?” Edward asked, his jaw quivering.
“It soundedlike Runa’s staff,” Fibian replied, his eyesilluminating the swirling snow.
“It’s not safeout here,” Cyrus said, the wind howling in his pointed ears, “We have to goback and wait for the storm to break.”
* * *
THAT EVENING Cyrus awoke achy andcold. His nostrils were raw and his back was full of knots. He yawned wide andinhaled a breath of winter air. The scent of snow and stone swept the fog fromhis senses. He was alone. He looked out from the cleft, then followed Fibian’s footprints up to the cliff, further up the path.The weather had
