#deiter

As such, he made sure to remember the direction they travelled in, and how all the landmarks looked from the back in case he should need to find his way back to the caravan.

In front of him, the boy and girl – and their mounts – picked their way along the barren rocks with ease. Like children at play they seemed joyous in their careful movements.

 Myrtri had finally managed to leave the steep sides of the glacial valley. He had dismounted from Voruga’s back, and now stretched his aching legs along the top of the sheer sided ridge.

Upon occasion his feet would cause the rock to crumble away, clattering down the wall to a noisy rest in the boughs of some dense shrubbery, clinging to the bare walls.

Each time he would back away quickly, avoiding the steep plummet to his death, but always he found out that he had returned, balancing like a circus performer with a deathwish.

Voruga on the other hand was as far from the edge as possible, she was about five hundred metres up the steep sided mountain, her dextrous paws overturning rocks and digging away at little mounds of dirt to find her prey.

He watched as she bounded after a jackalope, its powerful hind legs sending it across the hillside like an arrow. But in turning away he noticed something he hadn’t seen before, ahead of him, about a mile up the valley there was a patch of darker ground.

He pulled out his spyglass to confirm what he thought it might be, and sure enough saw that it was an opening into another valley. His eyes followed it down to where it bisected the cliff wall and saw that there was a tributary, maybe two thirds the width of the river below. With any luck it would be wide enough for them to pass through.

“Voruga, heel!” He called, the gryphon reluctantly abandoning her chase and slowly pacing down the cliff towards him.

Up above, the Jackalope poked its horned head out from the damaged burrow entrance, watching with curious eyes as the man mounted the back of its tormentor and set off upriver.

 Aveline led the way down the bluffs, several times having to dismount from his gryphon – whom Baethiah still hadn’t learned the name of – and half slide, half climb down on his own. The two gryphons made their way down to the ground, easily jumping from boulder to boulder, causing a small cascade of rubble to tumble down the cliff.

Finally Baethiah clambered down, sometimes feeling like she was losing her footing on the rough surface, the pale rocks here were heavy and sturdy, but a foot in the wrong place could get her stuck below one.

She made it past the steepest part of the cliff and, like Aveline, slid down to the bottom on the loose gravelly surface. Once she stood up she could hear her heart thrumming in her chest heavily. Or was it the sound of wingbeats? She looked up into the clearing sky for a moment and saw nothing above, deciding that she was right the first time.

Once more the two mounted up and begun their trek to the encampment.

“How much further away is it?” Baethiah inquired, her voice rhythmically jolting with the movement of Daneizal as his massive forelegs pulled them along the ground.

“We’re nearly halfway there I think, though going this route we won’t see it until we’re already there. Which means that they won’t see us coming either.”

They’d been travelling now for at least six hours, and the sun was starting its descent to the south east. Twice they’d had to ford narrow streams, and five times they’d climbed down the leading edge of an escarpment. Baethiah’s knees were aching and her palms were sore from the rough leather reins attached to Dane’s headcollar.

She sat down in the saddle as the ground levelled out, allowing her legs to rest. They were in a westbound valley now, the mountain a long way to their left standing between them and the open forestland they’d spent the last few months camped in.

The river before them was wide, almost worryingly so Baethiah noticed, though she couldn’t quite tell why. It was Aveline who first noticed what was wrong, pointing down to the trees, the trunks below their boughs submerged in water.

“Has the flooding started already? Perhaps the rain hit here earlier than the valleys to the north.” He asked, looking to Baethiah who bore a dubious expression.

“No, this isn’t a flash flood, it’s too high up the mountain for starters, that and the ground is too dry around it. This was caused by a blockage further down the river I think.”

Aveline looked down the valley, shielding the now beating sun from his eyes with one hand. “This is the river that leads near to the encampment. If this is a blockage then chances are it’s been dammed up.”

They began a steady walk down to the river bank, the gryphons tentatively pawing at the water with their big clumsy limbs. In the ripples, Baethiah saw that the water was almost completely clear, and below its surface the starving brown grass dislodged from the ground as it swayed in the current.

Aveline stooped to pick up the dead plant from the shore and looked at it closely.

“It’s been dead for a while, this lake must’ve been here for at least a few months.”

“Then it’s definitely a dam that’s stopping it. C’mon, let’s keep moving.” Baethiah kicked her heels in to Dane’s flank, urging him forwards gently. His lolloping gate rapidly turning to an uneven canter as they splashed along the shallows.

Already she was musing over an idea of how to complete their job, though she didn’t share it with her partner just yet.

 Voruga was assisting Myrtri with fording the wide river, he clung on to her broad shoulders and kicked as she paddled them along, steering with paws twice the size of his head. Ever since he was little Myrtri had never learnt to swim, deeming it a useless ability to have when your whole life was spent in a caravan.

However now he was beginning to regret that youthful stubbornness. Constantly having to cough and splutter the murky water from his mouth, blinking his dark eyes as they were stung by the floating sediment.

With Myrtri acting as a dead weight it was slow progress, but they made it to the other side after a few minutes, though the rapidly flowing current had dragged them down by another half mile. When he finally stood up and coughed out the water he’d inadvertently drank with a throaty burp, he looked across the river to where they had come from. Indeed they were further down than where they had come from initially, he could see the long dark scuff mark on the cliff face from where they had tumbled down in their clumsy descent.

Dripping wet and freezing cold, Myrtri stumbled across to Voruga, who was busy shaking her body to remove the water trapped below her shaggy fur. Once she stopped he rested a hand on her head, gasping out a quick “Thank you,” before sitting on the bank and looking out onto the water. From the outside it would always look so enticing, but under the waves it was cold and pressuring, like a continuous hail of ice.

The gryphon nudged his back with her broad, flat nose, urging him to get up so they could continue. Gradually he got to his feet, hauling himself up into the saddle, the uncomfortable stirrups making a welcome change to the icy river.

Unlike her rider, Voruga had enjoyed the refreshing swim, it made a nice change from spending time in a paddock with the rest of her herd. And so she was nice and eager to carry on moving, bounding ahead with Myrtri having to hold on or get thrown off. Which he nearly did – twice.

It only took ten minutes or so for them to reach the intercutting valley. Its wide, shallow slopes perfect for their caravan to travel up.

Before they entered this new terrain however, Myrtri decided to pull out his spyglass and check further upstream of the river they had just crossed. Unable to see any more suitable offcuts he reckoned that his current find would be the best way for the caravan to leave.

With a newfound spring in his proverbial step, he urged Voruga up the slopes, now heading north out of the valley.

 Beth and Aveline were now making their way along the river, the hillside to the east being one of the few remaining things that stood between them and the encampment.

From where he was, above the two, he was able to see the primitive stone arc that blocked the southwestern part of the river. He made doubly sure to keep his eye on Baethiah, who had almost seen him several times on the way through the hills.

Often he began to feel tired, as he did now, forcing him to go to ground a short way ahead of the others and wait for their arrival. Having to physically hide from sight whilst he let his mind recover.

Now he was dropping to the ground near the top of the dam, his wide wings acting like a parachute for his light figure to glide down safely.

He saw the many people below, milling about in their tents. There were some carrying tools, obviously designed for some degree of construction, whilst others were dressed in crisp black uniforms, their aprons often dusted with coats of fine white powders and stains of varying colours. The aromas of whatever food it was these black robed men were cooking wafted up to him.

It made him feel slightly nauseous as he recognised what the red stains were, but after nearly eighteen years amongst the people of this strange culture and countless more before then, he was used to that strange idea of eating meat. Still he decided it best to move from his current standing point, walking down to the edge of the artificial stone bank.

His boots made a soft tap against the surface, their synthetic soles cushioning his feet from the irregular bumps that jutted from the rock. Only he could hear the sound though, that was something he always made sure to take care of.

The people below were looking into all different directions, though none up to where he was standing. He decided to reveal himself, now fully visible to those around him, and immediately felt a pressure ease from his mind.

Tilting his head back, he rolled it around on his slender neck, looking up to the sky above. It was nearing night now, and the first of many stars would soon make themselves seen much like himself. That was one thing that he had always found enticing about these other worlds, their night time skies were brilliant walls of colour, shining with the glow of the many distant suns.

Here they were all tinged with purples on the fringes of their glow, the chemically rich atmosphere high above dying them beautifully.

And to think, the locals thought it was solid. That the intense black vacuum was an object they could touch if only they built high enough. And all the little pinpricks of light were just that, holes in the revolving blanket that wrapped around their home.

He breathed in the unpolluted air, flexing his muscles to let his, still ruffled, feathers settle. Finally he looked down, watching the starlight shimmer on the deep water to one side of the dam. The setting sun just began to catch on the edges of a distant mountain, its reflection a shimmering halo around a great black arrowhead. How he would love to see a world like this in all its true beauty, to see every sunset, breathe the crisp airs from the tallest mountains and shower in the rains of the densest forests.

He heard a noise behind him, faint on the same gentle wind that carried the fumes of the meals from the camp. Looking around and down he saw that he had amassed a small crowd in his musings. They gathered at the base of the dam, looking up with faces fearful of the winged man’s silhouette that paced around atop their construction like the king who owned it.

Unseen by those who stared at him, a moment of terror flashed across his face. He had been seen. After eighteen years of hiding here, he had just jeopardized everything in a single, crucial moment.

Quickly he thrust his wings to the side, the people below stepping back at the movement, and with a single powerful beat launched himself skyward, allowing the wind to spin his narrow body as he went up. Then he disappeared.

 They were ascending a hill southeast of the lake, already they knew for certain that there were dams in the river as they had crossed over one along the northern edge. From the direction of the dried up riverbed it looked as if it flowed into the original wide valley they had traversed earlier. Beth looked as far down its course as she could when they crossed, hoping to spot her brother making his way towards them, but alas, she was disappointed.

If Aveline was correct in his tracking then the encampment should be very close by. Behind the hill they saw the sun dipping low towards the horizon, and as Baethiah gazed at it she swore that she could see a flash of movement shoot up across its smooth amber surface.

She blinked and the image was gone, perhaps she was just tired. They had been travelling away from the camp for over ten hours, and it would likely be a while longer yet before the two had a chance to rest up.

The crest of the hill came up to meet them, and as they reached the summit they slowed their ascent. The reservoir to their left dipped out of view where a low rise got in the way, but it reappeared again in time for them to see the structure that blocked the rivers exit. The dam spanned between two sheer sided cliffs, the one on the far side looking very fresh as if it were recently carved. Down in the dried up river bed to the south were the tents and carts of the encampment. More than one of them bore the markings of the Divine Thurro, the religious group that intertwined with the political influences of the south.

There was no sign of anybody down in the camp however, and as they made their slow approach they could see a light, rising up from the base of the dam.

Carefully, the two dismounted and told their mounts to wait in a nearby copse. Baethiah’s legs burned with the effort of standing, the aching knees locked into the position of their stirrups. Then they walked, half stealthily, down the side of the hill towards the top of the dam. As they drew nearer they were able to make out a slight flicker in the light below the lip, evident now that it was the light of a flame or torch.

“They must be right up against the wall of the dam,” Whispered Aveline, “Let’s get a closer look, but be careful.”

Crouching now, they crept along to the very edge of the dam, Baethiah lay down on her stomach and peered over the edge. At the bottom of the steep stone wall there were nearly a hundred people clustered around, holding torches and squabbling incessantly. From her high vantage point she could see that some of them were frantic, as if spooked by something. Whilst others seemed rather like they were tired of standing around, “…sure it was, I believe you.” She overheard, detecting a small hint of sarcasm in the tone. “When Dorian gets back from the top we’ll know what it was, alright?”

She kept looking around for sign of anyone giving orders to the group, but was unable to see an authority figure in the bustle of the crowd. If this place had one, they were likely to be elsewhere. Then a thought struck her, that man below had said the top, which was currently where they were hiding.

Baethiah turned her head over her shoulder to tell Aveline that they would need to move, but stopped when she saw the silhouette of a man sneaking up behind him.

“Aveline! Look out!” She called out, her voice causing the others to look up from below. Thankfully he was already on edge, and so dodged immediately out of the way when he saw her look of surprise, even before she spoke.

The man behind, presumably the Dorian mentioned earlier, made a grab for him, his thick fingers closing around the collar of Aveline’s shirt in mid jump. The sudden lack of momentum caused his legs to swing forwards from under him, out over the edge of the dam. Then there came a tearing sound as Aveline’s thin shirt ripped in the man’s hand, Baethiah quickly reached out and, very nearly missing, managed to grab hold of Aveline’s wrist. He now hung over the edge of the dam, the top edge just out of his grasp. Glancing down in fear, the boy quickly swung his free arm up to try and grab the edge, but couldn’t get his fingers to grip the smooth cobbles.

Myrtri sat in the front, his eyes never wavering from the ground in front as he picked his way across the terrain, making sure to keep the lumbering beasts around him in his peripherals, not wanting to draw too close.

Daneizal was absentmindedly pulling them forward, occasionally slowing down to sniff at a spot of ground, ripe with the scent of jackalope urine. Once or twice he picked up a large rock, hoping to unearth the entrance to a burrow and find a snack waiting inside, however he was oft disappointed, many of the burrows abandoned and collapsed from the earlier rainfall.

On either side of them now were the great mountains, and they currently travelled in a deep gorge, its sheer walls carved out by a combination of foul weather, long frozen winters, and travellers wanting to shorten their journey by a few days.

As they passed a large boulder (Dane edging closer to it when his keen eyes noticed a dark gap below its driest face,) someone called from in front. Looking up, Myrtri soon found the source of the voice, it was Michel’s gondola, his wife waving to them from the back.

“Myrtri! Lord Riejou wishes to speak with you at the front of the caravan, she claims it’s urgent so you’d best not keep her waiting.”

Freya, for that was the name of Michel’s wife, had helped to raise the twins as an adoptive mother, and he feared her wrath much more than that of his lord, she had beaten him several times before when he was caught stealing fruit from the farmyards they stopped near. And so it was by her request, and not Lord Riejou’s that he set off for the front of the caravan. “Aye Ma’am, we’ll make our way over now.”

 Lord Riejou’s wagon had slowed its pace, waiting for their small cart to catch up. The lady was stood in the open doorway of their wagon, which was large enough for them to be able to fit their own miniature vehicle inside. Her thin arms holding on to the doors with surprising strength.

“Pull your cart inside Myr, it’ll be easier to talk if we’re in the same wagon.” She called over the howl of the wind, letting it carry her voice over to them.

He nodded in response, knowing there was no way she would hear him if he spoke. Quickly he opened up the tent behind and called his sister out to the front, where he moved over to let her sit next to him in the seat. Then, with a few quick shakes of the reins, he urged Daneizal towards the open doorway before them.

Effortlessly the gryphon managed to leap inside, past Riejou, who moved to the side, one arm holding open the heavy wooden door. Then the twins leapt into the wagon and, with the help of their elder and Daneizal, hauled the cart up the ledge and inside.

The great door swung shut behind them, and Lord Riejou pulled a catch down to keep it shut before going to relight the torches than had been extinguished by the rush of air, pulled from the wagon when the doors were opened.

Once the cart was securely in place, Baethiah immediately set to unharnessing Daneizal, allowing him to somewhat stretch his legs in the little clear space they had. The beast grew restless in confined spaces, and would no doubt be unappreciative of being kept harnessed on top.

The gryphon immediately went over to his older brothers in one side of the wagon, dancing their muscular heads around and hissing their tongues in their strange language.

“What’s happening milord? Are we stopping for camp soon?” Asked Baethiah as they walked through to the far end of the cart, where the gangway to the gondola was tethered.

“Not quite, I wasn’t expecting the storm to be this thick you see. Looking through the mountain pass it seemed much smaller.” She stopped and climbed up onto a box, sitting on the edge and lighting the last torch in the wagon.

Myr noticed the increase of light catch the silvery black shine of the markings on her scalp, and as her body turned, the myriad of small markings that outlined her spine shimmered on her bare back. It gave the impression of the flash of light on a flowing river at sunrise, or perhaps the motion of a shoal of fish, darting in accordance to some unknown dance.

“The problem,” She continued, breaking Myrtri out of his enrapture, “Is that with such intense rainfall there is a danger of a flash flood. And with our party caught in the middle of the valley we’ll get swept away.”

“Then what are we doing here? Shouldn’t we head away from the valley?” Myrtri added, his tone short.

Baethiah subtly kicked him in the heel, reprimanding him. To which Riejou, who’s ever keen eyes noticed the movement, smiled slightly. “I’m afraid that we don’t know if we can, this is a valley that isn’t mapped very well on Cartographer Paein’s charts. What we need is someone to go ahead and scout for an exit. Another valley, preferably an ascending one, or a shallow mountain slope will do.”

Myrtri glanced at his sister quickly. “I presume you mean for Baethiah to do that then?”

Riejou laughed, “Hah, you’re always trying to escape work Myr. Actually, I have another task for your sister, so you’ll go to do this, I trust you to be mindful of the land, and avoid any areas that seem like they may flood soon.”

She led the way back to the other gryphons, picking out the strongest, a female with a shimmering black mane and lurid green eyes.

“We need you to go immediately, I’ve prepared a pack for you to take along and Voruga here,” She gestured to the gryphon, “Is saddled and ready.”

Myrtri, taken aback by the very rushed introduction of his task took a moment to register what she was talking about. “This is all a bit sudden isn’t it?”

Baethiah, seeing the gravity of the situation, snapped at him, “Not as sudden as the flood will be if we don’t find a way out of this valley. You need to start pulling your own weight around here, and if that means going off on your own for a bit then so be it.”

Riejou shot the girl a knowing glance before handing him the pack and continuing. “Now, a flood will likely happen within the next three days, and so if you haven’t returned to us by sunset tomorrow then we’ll be travelling back the way we came and you’ll need to catch up. If you cannot find us, then there is a small town called Tolica, about a day’s ride southeast of here along the old trade routes where you can restock and come to meet us in Vortith. I’ve packed as much money as possible.”

Uncertainly, Myrtri held his hand out to Voruga, who nudged it gently with her broad wet nose and bowed her head to one side, requesting for him to climb into the saddle.

Then, as Riejou went over to the door, he mounted up. Voruga’s wide frame was difficult for him to perch on comfortably, but the stirrups were at about the right for him to rest in the knee guards above her wings.

Once in, Baethiah and Riejou pushed open the door and Voruga, smelling the outside air, bounded for it. She rushed past them both, stopping herself at the edge and holding on with her broad paws. Again, the torches by the door went out, plunging them into darkness, only Myrtri’s face visible by the narrow gleam of sunlight.

“Be swift young Myr. And take care, it will be difficult for us to find you should something happen.”

He quickly nodded, wobbling slightly as Voruga prepared to lurch forwards.

Baethiah added, “And try not to get too daunted by the exercise, it’s not as bad as you think really.” To which she received a foul glare, only moments before Voruga, bored of the pleasantries, jumped for the open world beyond.

Outside, the caravan had ceased its movement, turning sideways into the valley in preparation for a possible change of course. Whilst they’d been down in the wagon Paein, as Lord Riejou’s second in command, issued the orders to do so.          

They watched the two head west, towards where the rapidly proceeding tail end of the storm advanced. Baethiah felt an ache in her stomach as she looked, a slight feeling of sickness that passed almost as soon as it had come. Once they were out of sight, the door was again shut, and they walked through the dark wooden space to the other end, wherein the hatch to the gondola was stood shut.

Riejou stepped through first, holding it open for Baethiah, who passed her and led the way up the narrow gangway to the gondola ahead.

In reality, the gangway was no more than a strung together set of ropes making a crude, narrow, bridge that ran along the side of the leviathans flank.

At the top however, the crude handiwork was no longer apparent. With the gondola entrance decorated vividly in deep red paint and golden patterns. Behind the door, Baethiah could see a beaded curtain in a variety of colours which, as she stepped through it, rattled a gentle rhythm and stroked across her close cropped hair. Once inside, she greeted Paein, his wide eyes in stark contrast to the old, withered face that bore them, and the lady who had taken Lord Riejou’s place in the driving seat earlier.

That lady, as it turned out, was in fact Aveline Riejou, the son of and next in line to Lord Riejou unless she were to bear a daughter. He was only a few years older than Baethiah, and had spent time as friends when they were children. And indeed, during their teenage years, the two had been romantically entangled for some time. Although now, as they grew older, it was much less frequent that they saw each other.

“Good afternoon Beth.” Greeted her old friend. “And I might add that I do envy your brother right now. I’d much rather do his job than what we have in store.”

His voice was quiet, the sounds of the rain outside forcing Baethiah to strain to hear the words. It suited his face very well, with polite, kind-to-the-eye features and a slim structure.

Before Beth could reply to anything more than the greeting, Aveline’s mother quickly scolded him with a short cuff to the back of the head, sending locks of long strawberry blonde hair jumping forwards.

“Enough of that talk young man, we don’t need to scare her.” Then she set off immediately for the private room at the back of the gondola, muttering under her breath. “There’ll be plenty of that to come later.”

Once in the doorway, she beckoned for Baethiah to come inside the room, and nodded for her son to do the same. There was a table positioned in the centre of the room with heavy wooden slats crossing its surface. The top was thickly laden with maps and writing equipment. Thick woollen blankets, tucked into a compartment below, told Beth that it also doubled as a bed, logically since it was the only piece of furniture in the room bar the storage chests at the back.

Aveline shut the door as his mother sat on the floor at the head of the low table, her legs crossed and elbows resting upon its surface.

Baethiah nervously kneeled down, looking to Lord Riejou to start the conversation. But it was Aveline who spoke first instead. “Before my mother tells you anything, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, I had no idea that this could put you at risk.”

Beth was a little confused for a moment, asking her friend what he meant. But Aveline couldn’t reply as his mother had now started speaking, her penchant for storytelling making her point incredibly vague to begin with.

“In years to come, when I am too old to continue with my work as Lord of this caravan, Aveline will likely be the one to take my place. If ever I had any doubts as to his ability to do so, they are now gone.” As she said this introduction she looked fondly to her child, a kindness in her eyes that Baethiah had never really seen before, but she knew it to be motherly love. Now she turned to Baethiah, once again resuming her business-like attitude. “Over the past half a century, the state of DoQuvori in the south has slowly been expanding its territory into the north, buying areas of land from our government with promises of trade. It is their belief, or at least that of their leaders, that all the world rightfully belongs to them, and they wish to claim it. Of course, these foolish notions are not something that concerns me, what does concern me is this; this group has been constructing trade routes and highways between the cities in the south, in the tracts of land they have purchased, which may seem like something that benefits us at first. After all, it will make travel between cities much easier and our trade should bloom.” Aveline nodded along with every word, seeming like he’d heard it all before and was anticipating the next part of the story.

“However, as has been evidenced by their early actions in the south, these trade routes also serve as toll collectors. Any people travelling would need to pay them money for the upkeep of the highway. On top of that, they also use it for their own trading, they’ve almost set up their own empire in the south. Before the century is through they will likely control nearly all trading across the continent.”

Baethiah interjected, “Meaning that people like us won’t be able to continue with our lives. They intend to drown out our own trades, forcing a takeover of the land by giving us no alternative to turn to them.”

“Exactly, which is why my son here came up with a plan to solve this problem. At least temporarily.”

Now Aveline spoke, nervously bowing his head upon occasion as if he was ashamed. “Along our normal travelling route there is an outpost, we’ve heard reports of convoys of carts bringing resources from the south and the trade route has been closed off. It would seem they are beginning to construct one of their highways across this very mountain range, it’s why we went this way to begin with. But if your brother cannot find us safe passage further up, we will have to go down through their encampment. From here it is only two days away for our caravan, and if we are leaving without Myrtri then that only gives us until this time on Highest Star to clear the pass.”

“Clear the pass?” Baethiah asked, beginning to understand Aveline’s plan. “Do you intend to drive them out by force?”

“No, that would only start a war with their empire and caravans like ours. What I intend is to give them no option but to give up on their intention. We’ve seen these people around when we spend the winters in their lands so we know just how faithful their leaders are. And if we can make them believe that their deity doesn’t want them to construct this highway, the pious fools will hopefully give in. If not, then we’d need to destroy it without their knowing it was us.”

Lord Riejou was looking intensely at Baethiah, seemingly scheming something in her mind. “In order for this to work we need to send no more than two people in. They would have to do something to make them leave but not be seen doing it.”

After the earlier conversation involving her brother Beth realised the intention of her Lord. “You want me to go?”

“Yes, Aveline can guide you there and help you complete the task since he knows the camps whereabouts as well as the rest of us. But once it is done you cannot wait for, nor return to us. If you are seen and tailed, we need them to think that you are mere barbarians. There would be no time for you to lose them between here and there, and if they are led to us then a war would surely break out.”

Beth nodded, a few questions still on her mind. “Then where are we to go after?” She looked to Aveline, who opened his mouth to speak.

“We are to do as your brother is doing, if we reconvene in Vortith then it will give us over a week of travelling to lose anyone who is following us. There are plenty of open plains before the city, and if we are being tailed, then they will find it nearly impossible to stay out of sight.”

“This doesn’t sound too dangerous, difficult maybe, but certainly nothing to worry about. So what was with the pre-emptive apology?”

Lord Riejou gave a solemn nod, “There’s more to tell you. I believe that both you and your brother are in danger from this cult; they were heard to be lurking around Vortith recently, asking questions about a relic dating back to the Bawrough dynasty. Now, the only time I’ve ever heard of such a thing turning up in Vortith was when your mother dug one up.

She looked off to her side, as if she was thinking. “So if they found out that it was your mother who found it, then they would likely be aware of you two not being found amongst those who died in the fire.” Baethiah nodded, eager to learn more about her mother “When you were younger,” Riejou continued, “it wasn’t so much of a problem, but now that you are older and look so much like that dear mother of yours they could realise the truth if you are caught.”

“But surely they wouldn’t know from looks alone.” Interrupted Baethiah once more.

“Normally not no, but you share something more in common with your mother than just looks. I cannot tell for certain what it is, though I know it is definitely there, I remember when I first saw it in your mother, perhaps four years or so before you were born. I was barely your age at the time, and she was friends with my own mother, then I started to notice a change, almost like the sense of falling that one gets just from looking over a precipice. Whatever it is, your brother has it too, but not as strongly. If they can see what I see, they’ll surely know.”

Baethiah sat in silence, unsure of how to answer. She tilted her head with the lightly swaying motions of the beast above them. Looking to Aveline, she saw the boys gaze focussed on the maps below, flickering this way and that between the sketched in valleys and peaks to try and come up with something new that didn’t mean going into danger. Once or twice his eyes lit up at the thought of a new idea, but the silence in the room was so clear that Baethiah could almost hear the inner monologue telling him all the ways it wouldn’t work when his face fell.

She looked over to the left as well, opposite Aveline, not wanting to look at Lord Riejou just yet. But she had to turn her head away quickly, as the motion made her feel sick when she looked to that side, much the same as she had done in the wagon earlier.

Finally, Lord Riejou broke the silence. “I understand the implications of this, and believe me, I don’t want to send either of you into danger. But it is the only way that we can see out of this situation, the two of you are the only ones in our caravan who can get rid of those men without being noticed.”

Baethiah looked back up to her, a heavy weight at the bottom of her chest, “I understand milord. And I shall do my best to help.” Though she put on a brave attitude, she knew she was scared inside. Never before had she parted from the caravan for more than a day. And never had her brother not been by her side. To be told now that she must venture through unknown lands was a daunting prospect. The only solace she could find came in that Aveline would accompany her, and that he knew the way to both this encampment, and then on to Vortith.

“Then there is no time to lose.” Aveline took control of the conversation, as his mother nodded and went to re-join the caravan. “We have two gryphons saddled and ready, and a bag of supplies available in the wagon.”

Baethiah nodded, and followed as they stood up from the table. But she stopped before they reached the door, “Actually, would it be possible to have my saddle moved to Daneizal? I feel like I’d need him there with me is all.”

Aveline paused, looking down again as he thought. After a moment he answered, “Yes. I suppose it shouldn’t be a problem, but we will need to leave immediately after.”

Baethiah nodded and the two continued through, back past Paein who slowly walked into the makeshift conference room to collect his precious maps, and out to the door at the side of the gondola.

Lord Riejou was setting to unharnessing the leviathan from their wagon, and currently the rope walkway was detached and trailing loose upon the ground. Once free, the creature settled onto its belly, collapsing onto its heavy knees. Riejou then ascended the rope mesh that stretched over its thick hide and began to undo the huge buckles and straps that held up her gondola.

Down below, the two slipped under the rail and stepped down the, now very short, drop to the earth below. The rear door to the wagon stood open and they went into the dark space, Beth going over to her cart and gathering anything she thought might be essential. She took her clothing sack, waterskin and a tinderbox filled with her tools. Most of the contents of the box she was sure would be duplicated inside the pack that was already prepared, but inside it was a small knife that she had had since she was a very young child. It was made from a shard of Umberstone, a rare volcanic metal, which she had found whilst wandering in the mountains as a girl. Despite its age the blade had never dulled, and she always made sure to keep it available when travelling away from the caravan.

She left the tent, donning her leather and fur jacket and picking up the Merma-skin coat. Aveline was setting up the saddle onto Daneizal, who nudged Baethiah affectionately when she drew close.

Aveline nodded to the packs by the crates next to him when he saw Baethiah carrying her belongings, who then went to tuck them into the tight spaces of the canvas bags.

They then carried the bags over to their mounts, attaching them to the riding harnesses below their wings. The mighty beasts both turned their heads to nudge at the peculiar objects, but barely felt the weight themselves. They mounted up onto the creatures, Baethiah taking a minute to adjust her saddle, and left the caravan for the shallow slopes to the south.