Despite Nissila?t’s promise, the relationship between her and Ihra was not immediately fixed. Jasper couldn’t say he was surprised; the loss of a loved one was a pain that took years to ebb away, if ever, but it was obvious to everyone that she was trying and, fortunately, that was enough. By the time they reached Hargish a week and a half later, relations had thawed enough that Ihra was willing to continue traveling with her.
Their stay in Hargish was brief but necessary. Although S?ams?a?dur had no intention of remaining in Sapi?ya any longer, he wanted to be sure Kaba?ni knew of his success in Birnah, to absolve the debt that lay between them for the death of Kaba?ni’s men. They stocked up too on supplies, as the road between Hargish and Gis?-Izum was mostly uninhabited and the durgu? were hearty eaters.
Then they departed, heading back into the untamed wilderness that separated the western half of the province from the sole city to the east. Nothing hindered them on their trip, and two weeks later the walls of Giz?-Izum loomed once again on the horizon. What they did not see, however, was the Djinn army.
“Damn it - have they moved on already?” As they approached the city's uniquely mottled walls, Jasper strained in his saddle to catch a glimpse of the northern flank of the city, where the Djinn army had encamped.
“We were gone longer than expected,” Ihra pointed out.
“I know,” he muttered, “but I was hoping they got delayed too. Now we'll have to forge the mountains by ourselves.” As Jasper spoke, he turned his eyes toward the Abulmah?h?u Mountains in the distance.
Though technically part of the same chain that surrounded the Djinn’s homeland, the mountains that trailed northward had a noticeably distinct appearance from their southern peers. Though they were shorter on average, and with considerably less bulk, their slopes were steeper and more rugged, frequently ending in thin, needle-like spires that reminded Jasper of a cathedral.
An almost perpetual gloom lingered over them, with heavy storm clouds and thick frequently obscuring their peaks, but the worst of it, in Jasper’s opinion, was their proximity to the ruins of Als?arratu. He had no desire to ever see it again, not even from a distance. “Where did they say they were headed next?” He asked glumly, unable to remember the name General Ardu?l had told him.
Tsia raised a brow. “You can’t remember the name of the capital of Western Corsythia?”
“Hey, this isn’t my world,” Jasper responded lightly. “Pass a quiz on US state capitals, and then we’ll talk.”
“It was Aba?ya,” Ihra supplied, taking pity on him.
“Right, Aba?ya.” Jasper looked down at the saddle ruefully and sighed. “So much for a break from the road. It’s only midday, so I guess we might as well keep going. We could probably reach the mountains by night.”
“Nuh-huh,” Tsia cut in. “After we leave Gis?-Izum, there won’t be another major city till Aba?ya. You all can go on without me if you want, but tonight, I’m enjoying a good meal and a hot bath. The mountains will be there tomorrow.”
They spent the night in Gis?-Izum, and Jasper had to admit, Tsia had been right. After weeks on the road, the tavern’s pot roast tasted like mana from heaven, and after roasting for an hour in the hot bath, he barely made it to the inn’s plush bed before he fell asleep.
The respite was short-lived though; his eyelids had barely closed before the first rays of dawn peaked through the gathered curtains and pounding at the door woke him up. They ate fast, relishing another meal with fresh ingredients, and crossed the bridge that spanned the river before the sun had fully crested the mountains.
The first two days passed uneventfully. As Jasper had guessed, it only took a few hours for them to reach the base of the mountains, but he had underestimated how long it would take them to pass.
The imperial road narrowed to a sliver barely wide enough to allow two carts to pass, not there was any traffic to speak of. Taking the path of least resistance, the road wound back and forth between the mountains, sticking to the low valleys whenever possible, but those were far and between.
The trees quickly fell away as they continued their ascent, replaced by a barren snowfield strewn with massive boulders and an icy fog that dogged their steps. They passed no one the first few days, not even the squads of soldiers that occasionally patrolled the barren stretch between Hargish and Gis?-Izum.
Thus, it was no surprise when the first three days ended without encountering any other travelers - but one surprise did await them.
Night was quickly closing in on them as the group crested the mountain they’d been laboring up all day, but an excited yell from up ahead caught Jasper’s attention. “There’s a shelter here!”
Hidden by the fog, it was a few minutes before Jasper spied the source of the excitement. An old stone house was perched on the side of the cliff, overlooking a dramatic drop that descended into a distant stream.
It was a large, two-story affair flanked by a dilapidated wooden barn and a much more decrepitated building whose purpose he couldn't guess. A broken sign swung in the wind, the writing long since scrubbed off by the barren conditions save for a single word partially preserved: “tave-”
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Although the place was deserted, the group waited cautiously while S?ams?a?dur’s men searched the buildings. It was far from uncommon, after all, for abandoned outposts like this to become a nest for monsters, but the only signs of any recent habitation the durgu? found belonged to the Djinn army, who had likely passed through only a few days early..
Thus, once they were sure the building was secure, the group quickly hunkered down, happy to have found shelter from the mountains’ bitter winds and swirling snow. The durgu? prepared their usual stew and, with a warm and happy stomach, Jasper quickly fell asleep.
It was still dark when Jasper jerked awake. The fire they’d stoked in the abandoned hearth was nearly dead, though a few embers still glowed faintly amongst the charcoal, and the room was silent save for light snoring to his left, where Ihra had curled up beside him.
Yet, although nothing seemed amiss, Jasper’s heart was racing. He propped himself up on one elbow, and glanced around the small room. The dark was too thick for him to make out much, but neither did he see anything wrong. I must have had a bad dream, he finally decided, and sank back down into his sleeping bag, though it bothered him that he couldn’t remember any dream at all.
He lay there with eyes wide open, listening to Ihra’s rhythmic snoring, as he tried to get back to sleep. Jasper knew, of course, that he needed to close his eyes, but every time he did, his paranoia spiraled out of control until he was forced to open them again. There’s something wrong.
As much as he wanted to dismiss the thought as silly paranoia, Jasper had learned to trust his gut. He rolled to his feet as quietly as possible and gently shook Ihra’s shoulder. “Wake up,” he whispered.
She didn’t respond, and he shook her shoulder more forcefully, eliciting a groggy, “Stoooop.”
“Shh!” He quickly shushed her, shaking her shoulder again, and one eye finally cracked open. “What?”
“Something’s wrong. Stay quiet.”
Alertness entered her eyes and she rose quietly, snatching her dagger from beneath her pillow. “What’s wrong?”
“Not sure. Just a feeling. Can you see anything?”
Unlike him, Ihra had no trouble scanning the dark room, but there wasn’t much to see. As one of the old tavern’s ‘private rooms,’ it was barely big enough to accommodate a bed, a hearth, and a washbasin back when the place had been in business; now it was entirely empty save for the curled-up forms of their party members. “There’s no one here. Are you sure?” She responded quietly.
“I…” Jasper hesitated, wondering if he really had allowed himself to be spooked by a bad dream that he’d simply forgotten.
“There!” Hissing softly, Ihra pointed over his shoulder toward the window. “There’s a blue light by the barn.”
He craned his head to see the light she was talking about and spotted it quickly. It moved haphazardly, bobbing back and forth on the top of the roof - and if there was anyone holding it, he certainly could make them out. “Is there anyone there-”
“No,” she shook her head.
The light stilled, as Jasper got the distinct impression, absurd as it seemed, that it had become aware of their attention. It blinked once, dissolving into the darkness, and they froze as they waited for it to reappear.
“Holy crap!” Jasper fell backward as blinding blue light seared his eyeballs. He landed hard on his ass, purple dots dancing across his vision as he tried to focus on the blue orb that had suddenly manifested in the room. He scooched his arms fumbling with a spell as the ball of light orbited before them, but it didn’t attack.
Instead, resuming the strange, bobbing motion it had exhibited on the rooftop, it headed toward the bedroom door, pausing expectantly as it reached the threshold. “Does it want us to follow it?”
As Jasper glanced back at Ihra, he was surprised to see the others remained asleep - despite the blinding burst of light that had filled the room and his loud yell. “Are they-”
She shook Tsia’s shoulders roughly, answering his questions. “Bespelt,” she responded. “Her pulse seems steady, but I can't wake her.” As she talked, the orb by the door flickered rapidly as if it was impatient, and the two shared a glance. “Do we follow it?” she asked doubtfully.
Yes, following the creepy light in the abandoned house sounds like a great idea, Jasper thought wryly, but as he moved over and shook S?ams?a?dur’s shoulder to no avail, he realized they might not have an option. He heaved a sigh as he turned back to the blue orb. “What do you want? Do you want to show us something?”
It blinked twice, which he took as a yes, and phased through the door. “Guess we get to follow the creepy ghost.”
The two gathered their weapons before following the orb, which was waiting in the hall outside. The house was unnaturally silent; not even the steady staccato of the durgu?’s snoring could be heard, nor the howling of the angry winds that buffeted the peak. Even their footsteps seemed muffled as they followed the orb down the rickety old stairs that stubbornly refused to creak.
The orb seemed almost whimsical when it reached the tavern’s main hall, flitting back and forth between the slumbering durgu? like a hyperactive dog until Jasper lost patience. “Do you want to show us something or not?” he snapped.
Blue light filled the hall as the orb flared with irritation, yet, despite the light show, not a single soul stirred, reinforcing Jasper’s fear that they had to play along. “Well?” he asked, not apologizing to the orb.
The light dimmed, and the orb bobbed over to the door that led to the outside, passing through it without waiting for them to follow.
As they joined it outside, Jasper’s mind was filled with the stories of will o’wisps, playful sprites that lured men to their doom. He half-expected, therefore, for the orb to head straight for the yawning bluffs on which the tavern stood, hoping they would follow it right off the cliff, but instead it danced along the path toward the barn where they had first seen it. Maybe there’s a body over there?
The wind buffeted them as they followed it, silent despite the massive gusts of wind that were near hurricane strength, and Jasper was grateful when they slipped inside the barn. Like the tavern, it was full of sleeping durgu?, blissfully unaware of the strange entity that floated above their heads.
It seemed on a mission now, heading straight for the northwestern corner where it paused expectantly over a small stretch of floor surprisingly free of sleepers. And as Jasper neared, the reason became apparent.
A flight of crumbling steps led down into a pitch-black basement, a darkness so deep that even the orb's light seemed unable to penetrate it. Aw, hell no.
