My relatives have been there. They have described this place. I remember my grandfather's tales when I was a nestling. There is a likely area—a place, I was told, of vast warrens under the ice. Such a place, I believe, would attract a mage. I will search there first. I will find her, human.
At that moment, Tanis's fingers rubbed against something at the bottom of the swordswoman's pack. Puzzled, the half-elf kneeled, dumped the contents of the pack on the ground, and examined the canvas back. The pack, in the bright light of day, looked deeper from the outside than it was on the inside. "A false bottom," he murmured.
Caven dismounted, crouching beside the half-elf. Even Xanthar hopped to a nearby perch. Tanis prodded the bottom, searching for a catch. Then he uttered an exclamation and pulled up the stiffened canvas that hid the cache. The three gasped as purple light erupted from the travel-worn pack. Caven stepped back warily, but Tanis thrust his hand into the false bottom. He cradled three ice jewels in his palm as he withdrew his hand.
"By the gods! What are they?" Caven asked.
Tanis shook his head, but Xanthar murmured something the half-elf couldn't understand. "What is it?" Tanis asked.
Ice jewels. My grandfather mentioned them long ago, but he thought they were only legend. They were said to be ice compressed under great weight, until they turned to precious gems.
"Are they magic?" Tanis asked the giant owl. "There are more in there."
In the right hands, yes, they must be magic. But they frighten me. Tanis and Caven looked up again, startled. Am I correct in assuming that the swords-woman wasn't the rightful owner of these jewels?
Caven replied carefully. "After we left Kern, Kitiara said something that made me wonder. I was complaining that all of the Valdane's mercenaries had gone unpaid, and she said, All but one.' But she wouldn't explain further. Later I took that to mean she was planning to rob me. But now I think . . ." He gestured meaningfully at the glowing ice jewels.
Tanis was still gazing at the ice jewels when Xanthar's voice penetrated his mind. Perhaps we can make use of these stones.
The half-elf looked up, immediately comprehending the owl's drift. "Ransom?" he asked.
The bird nodded. Or magic. If we can discover their secret. But I say we bring them along.
Tanis thrust the jewels back in the pack, replaced the false bottom, and transferred his own things to Kitiara's pack. Then he stood and faced the owl. "I'm ready."
Caven sighed, rising as well. "As am I."
I cannot carry you both.
"I will ride Maleficent."
We will outdistance you quickly.
"Leave a trail for me to follow."
I have many relatives. I could mind-call to them. Perhaps you could ride . . .
"No!" Caven said, adding hastily, "I'll not leave my horse. Maleficent and I will go day and night if need be. He is a Mithas stallion; he can endure the strain. And so can I."
You fear heights, then, human?
"No!" Caven repeated stubbornly. He mounted Maleficent. "I fear nothing."
Xanthar hopped to the ground, hunkering down into a squat. The half-elf clambered aboard, pulling Kitiara's pack and his weapons behind him and securing them to the bird with a leather strap that Caven handed over from Maleficent's saddle. Xanthar made a soft, clucking noise. Tanis clamped his legs around Xanthar's body and held tight to the harness and the grip of the bird's wings. He dipped his head behind Xanthar's. Without any further ado, the giant owl sprang into the sky.
"Wait!" Caven shouted after them. "How will you mark your path?" Even as he spoke, his form shrank beneath them.
You will know it. Perhaps we will toss down some of these shining jewels for you to follow.
"Wait!" Caven hollered, a note of desperation making his voice thin. "They're too val—" Then he could no longer be heard.
The bird spiraled higher until it soared high above the mountain peaks. Tanis bit his lip to take his mind off the sight of the ground spinning slowly below him. Caven and Maleficent gradually faded to inconsequential dots. Vowing not to look straight down, Tanis ventured glances to the side. He gauged the direction by the sun.
"You're not serious about using the jewels to mark Caven's path, are you?" Tanis shouted at the back of Xanthar's head. The bird didn't reply, but the half-elf felt a quiver ripple through the creature; it might have been a chuckle.
Far to the west, Tanis saw four small, dark forms rise in the sky. He pointed them out to Xanthar. They are my sons and daughters. They will guide Caven and protect him from the less honorable inhabitants of Darken Wood. Despite his foolhardy bravery, the swordsman deserves help.
To the northeast, the half-elf could just about imagine that he could see the tops of the towering vallenwoods of Solace. No trees grew taller than those, so tall and strong that the city's residents built homes in the branches and constructed systems of walkways and bridges between them. Someone could journey from one end of Solace to the other without ever touching the ground.
Somewhere in Solace, Tanis thought with a pang, Flint Fireforge was at home now, probably preparing a pot of stew—Flint was not one for sophisticated cuisine—and looking forward to an evening of conviviality at the Inn of the Last Home. Tanis looked forward to seeing the dwarf again, but it would surely be a long while.
Xanthar came out of the last climbing curve turning toward the Icereach.
* * * * *
Wind buffeted the pair as they flew southward. Tanis lost his grip on the harness. For a dizzying moment, the half-elf felt unseated and imagined himself diving toward the ground. Then his hands found the strap again, and he managed to pull himself upright. The bird kept up the steady motions of long-distance
