Chapter 29: Guiding Lights

  The biting wind nipped at every centimeter of the Paladin’s exposed skin as the storm drove the snow in a furious dance. Each flake, like a tiny ice dart, struck her cheeks and clung stubbornly to her armor. They were in a white void, the path before them all but erased.

  Chastity steeled herself against a rising panic. If they departed from the road, buried by the blizzard, they could be left wandering the countryside and freeze to death. There was no map, no compass to help guide them. Certainly no GPS.

  “You know these lands!” Chastity yelled over the howling wind to the halfling clinging to her back. “Are we still heading in the right direction?”

  Charlie shivered, gripping the ‘tall lady’ tighter to keep from slipping.

  “J-j-just gotta k-keep the r-river to our left!” he answered through chattering teeth.

  Chastity squinted. Visibility was poor, only a few feet, and the deepening drifts cast everything in a monochromatic sameness each way she looked. She turned to one side and fought through the heavy drifts, every muscle in her body protesting under the added weight and exertion.

  There was nothing but more snow in that direction. Endless snow. She turned and went back the other way, until at last her boots sagged into soft earth, frost-laden mud where the chilly waters lapped at the edge of the riverbank.

  Keep the river on our left!

  It would be even harder to walk on this soggy, slippery ground. But the snow elsewhere was nearly to her knees. The last thing she could afford to do was fall into the frigid river. But no matter what, Chastity needed to keep the river within view.

  She battled valiantly through the deluge, ever mindful of her footing. The visibility and cold were bad enough now, but what about when the sun went down?

  Great Divine, please get us home, she prayed.

  Not her home, of course, but the village. She’d give anything to see those cramped spaces and friendly faces right now.

  “Oof!”

  She nearly tripped over something buried in the snow by the river’s edge. Whatever it was, it was hefty and solid–like a fallen log. Odd shape, though. She brushed handfuls of snow off the object and exposed a few inches of brown wood with a curved, unnatural edge.

  “I-identity,” she said, chattering as well.

  A boat! But damaged…

  Chastity got an idea.

  “Charlie,” she said, setting the halfling down. “It’s a boat. Help me dig it out!”

  The halfling obliged, and they furiously scooped armfuls of snow, excavating a modest wooden boat abandoned on the riverbank. It was clearly designed for halflings, but Chastity estimated she and Charlie could fit. But was it seaworthy? (Riverworthy?)

  Racing against the constant barrage of falling flakes, Chastity searched over every visible inch. There were no oars, and the oarlocks were shorn off. There was a sizable crack at the top of one side (the gunwale–a term unfamiliar to Chastity), but no obvious holes in the hull.

  “W-we won’t be able to row or s-steer, but we can drift!”

  Charlie nodded firmly. The river was agitated from the storm, the water roiling and the current strong.

  They worked together, sliding the boat into the water and holding it steady against the current. It did not appear to be leaking. There was a sodden length of rope in the rear, but nothing obvious to attach it to. Chastity hoisted their packs and gear in first, then held the boat while Charlie climbed in.

  This was the tricky part–hoisting her body in without destabilizing the small boat and capsizing them. Chastity held her breath.

  One… two… three…!

  She hopped, nearly slipping in the muddy slush, and vaulted into the middle of the boat. She landed with a thud, and the craft rocked violently against the impact and shifting weight. But… it held! At once the river whisked them away from the shore.

  “Woooo!” Charlie hollered with excitement, even though the snow was now whipping his face at twice the speed.

  Chastity exhaled with relief. But they weren’t out of danger yet. The current carried them swiftly down the wide river in a blinding corridor of white. And the muted daylight was indeed failing. They might easily float past the village without knowing, especially after nightfall.

  Time passed. It felt like an eternity. Chastity’s every shifting movement rocked the boat, and they fought to maintain balance as the craft jostled over small rapids. They huddled together in the center, Chastity attempting to use her cloak as a shield against the wintry onslaught. Her extremities were almost completely numb. Charlie’s lips were blue.

  They bailed snow out of the hull with frozen, stinging hands.

  They drifted on, powerless to steer or stop.

  And then the sun was gone. Yet the blizzard remained.

  But then–

  “C-chastity… look!”

  Charlie raised his arm, shaking with cold, and gestured into the darkness. Chastity lifted the cloak off her head and brushed ice from her face. She peered into the swirling snow and night.

  “I don’t… I don’t see… anything…” she managed, her voice hoarse.

  “Th-there! Looks like… a constellation!”

  Chastity squinted. There was something… small pinpricks of light. Faint glints. They were steadily getting brighter, up ahead.

  “It’s the village!” Charlie shouted. “It has to be! Lights in the windows. We’re nearly there! This is not a normal sight in Goldenberry, to be sure!”

  Sure enough, the pattern of illumination came into focus as the boat drew closer. Dozens of burning lights, faint though they seemed, outlined the shadowy contours of a village. And there, just barely visible, the outline of the dock.

  They were approaching at speed, but were not near enough to the eastern bank to reach. Chastity reached for the rope, one end tied into a loop. They would have one chance at this.

  ?

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  There was pounding on the door, and Mrs. Underfoot hurried to open it. Two ice-encrusted figures crashed through, followed by a deluge of snow. They lay in a heap on the foyer.

  “C-charlie? And the tall lady? You’re back! You’re really back! O, bless the river! Bartholomew dear, bring some dry blankets! And put on a fresh pot of barley tea, extra hot!”

  Mrs. Underfoot maneuvered around the shivering heap and pushed against the door with all her might, trying to close it against the encroaching snowpile.

  “I had a premonition–a dream, I did! Somehow, I just knew you’d be out there in the dark and cold, trying to find your way ‘ome! I told everybody in the village to light a lantern and put in their windows tonight, even though fuel is so scarce. I’m so glad you’re back!”