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{Part III- The Soldier and the Spy}

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Chapter Eight- The Mountain Road

“He’s dead, isn’t he.” I say after a time.

Iarin turns her face away, looking out at the sunset-strewn sky, pierced by dark and jagged mountains. We’re still sitting beneath the hollow that makes up what was once the only route to Naroth. The path we’re supposed to take winds away ahead of us, but I don’t feel like I could get up and walk even if I wanted to. I can only sit here, with my back against the fragile dirt wall, hugging my knees and frozen with a blank sort of shock.

“....p-probably.” Iarin says at last.

“Only probably?”

Iarin bites her lip, amends her answer, “Almost certainly.”

“Then... there’s still a chance....?”

“N-no. It’s almost impossible.”

“Oh."

"I’m... I’m sorry, Emma.”

“Whatever.”

I look back down at the ground, running my fingers through the fine grey dirt, trying to pretend I’m immune to caring, that I’m thick-skinned enough to get up and keep going. I’m not. I spent nearly an hour after the cave-in trying to shift the stones somehow, but... nothing.

“There has to be a chance,” I decide, “Even a small chance, that you know, none of the rocks hit him, right? That he could be okay, but just trapped. There’s a chance of that, right?”

“Yes.” Iarin says slowly, but it’s... I-it won’t happen, Emma. P-people... you can’t just will people back to life, no matter how much they mean to you... y-you know? The dead are... well, dead. I’m a Healer. I sh-should know.”

“But... if you had a chance to save someone... someone important to you...”

Iarin examines the palms of her hands, frowning slightly

“There was someone, wasn’t there? Someone you tried to save, and... couldn’t?”

She doesn’t look at me.

“Well, if you had the chance... if you could go back, and do whatever you could, and maybe, in the end, it would still amount to nothing but there was a way, a way you could save them... wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you at least try?”

“Yes,” says Iarin, suddenly, certainly, without stuttering at all, “Yes, I would.”

“Then let’s try. Let’s do what we can.”

Iarin glances up, giving me a small, worried smile. “We can’t move these stones by ourselves, Emma.”

“No. But we can get help.“

“F-from where?”

“I dunno, how close is the nearest town? You would know better than I would.”

“Ah... you d-did understand what Koreth said about Naroth being r-really isolated, d-didn’t you?”

“Um... yeah?” Well, that’s bad news coming if I’ve ever heard it.

“If we want help, we’re going to have to go all the way t-to Naroth. There aren’t any other towns, o-or even any other small villages.”

“Who’s idea was that?” I ask, exasperated.

“N-naroth’s a fortress,” Iarin explains, looking like she’s trying very hard to tolerate my lack of sanity, “so they want to make themselves hard to get to. N-no one else wants to live in the Northern Mountains. I-it’s a stupid thing to do. No one th-there to help you in times of crisis. Th-the Narothians, though, the pride themselves on the fact that there’s never been a real c-crisis. Yet.”

“Okay... well, how far away is Naroth?” I ask her, trying my best to be optimistic.

“Three days, I-I’m guessing.” Iarin says quietly, “Which is about how long we’d have to save K-Koreth. If he’s still alive.”

“Yes,” I say, “if.”

Don’t get your hopes up Emma. The chances– they’re slim. Incredibly slim. That’s what Iarin’s trying to tell me. Koreth is... just face it. He’s dead.

Not for sure, though. I don’t know that.

“The Narothians...” I add, suddenly, “will they help us? Providing we get there, of course.”

“It will take th-three days to get there. Three days back. S-six days, Emma.

K-koreth will be dead by then, for sure. D-don’t you understand that?”

“I don’t care. I've got to try.”

“A-alright.” Iarin gives me a look like, I’m done reasoning with you. Sink into delerium if you like. “The Narothians... the thing with Naroth is, they can be difficult people. They might help us, or they m-might not. We’ll probably have to prove our worth, first. N-naroth, you see, will probably suspect us of sympathizing with Sareil. Th-they’re paranoid, you see, especially lately.

"A few years ago, th-they caught some spies, many spies, all over the city, and all rather young. They o-only... they only managed to catch one... the rest... th-they jumped off the wall, dropped into the wells and drowned themselves... a-anything...” Iarin shudders, “they c-could only catch one, and she escaped, that’s wh-what I hear, only a few weeks ago. N-naroth is in panic. Th-they’re worried that she’ll take her knowledge of H-hanora back to Sareil with her, you see? If she returns there. B-but nobody can find her, so there’s nothing they can do. So N-naroth is going berserk, trying to make up for one missing spy w-with excessively strict new security laws. W-we’ll have to earn whatever help they’ll give us, if they help at all. We’ll have to prove our goodwill.”

"Sounds easy enough,” I say, getting to my feet, well aware that this is futile, well aware that I’m being stupid, and well aware that there is no other way. “So? Which way to Naroth? Any of these books have a map?”

Iarin pulls out one of her books, as if on cue, and flips it to a page about halfway through. It’s a big, two-page-spread showing a map, in bleak, muted colors, of a large, central continent called “Terra”, south of a smaller continent emblazoned with the words “Irim Kuarth.”

“Where are we?” I ask uselessly.

“Here.” Iarin points to some small red print scribbled in a cluster of mountains on the lower continent. On closer inspection, the words read “Arael Mountain Pass.” Of course, this being a map drawn before the last disastrous few hours, “Arael Mountain Pass” wends all the way up to “Naroth” the way our path was supposed to. There are a couple of other spider paths running off the tunnel, the southernmost of these starting right where we are. The path leads looping all around mountains and across river bridges, twisting and spiraling and doubling back on itself, as if it was made by a bunch of drunken, mentally deficient cows. In other words, a mess, just as Koreth said. It’ll take days to get to Naroth, all right. Better to start sooner.

“Okay, lets go!” I say, my voice brimming with a false confidence that rings in my ears.

“B-but... it’s dark already...”

“Who cares? We’re going to Naroth” I snap at her.

“Oh... oh, okay...”

It’s dark already. As in, the sun has set. Already, the sun has set.

If Koreth was alive, wouldn’t he already have used the spell to free himself?

I don’t care. I don’t care, I don’t care.

I don’t want to think about it.

* * * * *

The road to Naroth is obviously a far less sought after path than the tunnels to Naroth, and now I know why. What isn’t overgrown by dying yellow grass is a patchwork of jagged rocks the likes of which my secondhand Nikes were never meant to cope. Despite all the, you know, mountains, there’s no shade at all once the sun comes up. The bright May sunlight eats down on us with an almost Arizona-like hatred for all that is living. Aren’t we supposed to be north of where we were before? And, you know, in the mountains? Despite all these very logical protests, the beating sun doesn’t seem to care.

Iarin looks worse off than I do, though. She keeps darting off into the thin shade like a freaking vampire, evidentially not used to the sun. I feel sort of bad about dragging her along, but what can I do? Without Iarin, I’d be totally lost here, and the sooner we can get to Naroth and back, the better. Maybe if I can find this Attaraya guy in Naroth and he deigns to help me, Iarin can stay in Naroth and... I dunno, hang out in the library or something. In the meantime, I need her here.

Day changes incessantly into night, once, twice, and I keep walking, almost running, feeling almost hysterical, and yet oddly numb at the same time. Not hungry, not tired, keeping running count of the minutes and hours as I stumble over the jagged ground.

Iarin follows right behind me, without a single complaint.

It’s already the third day, and I feel panic seizing at me. A tall and misty mountain rises into my vision at about noon, and Iarin says that Naroth is built on that mountain, twisting around it in a lopsided spiral. I begin to walk faster.

By midafternoon, I can see the buildings, built of pale wood, simple, precise, and clean. All of them are built along a central path that winds uphill around the mountain. The path we’re walking on has begun to straighten and smooth out a little bit. The mountain is surrounded by a thick wall of rough brown brick, like Chiren’s, but rather less ostentatious. Naorth has an air of straight-up, Spartan simplicity.

A few minutes closer, and I can see a guard waiting at the gate. Fabulous. Just wonderful. I wonder how this world knows that I have bad luck with guards.

The Naroth guard isn’t armored, dressed in a simple green tunic and black pants, a scarf tossed over one shoulder, hair is pulled back tightly at the back of her neck. She’s sitting on the lower part of the wall, staring out at the sunset with an expression of unfathomable boredom on her tanned face.

Her hazel eyes flick over to us as we approach, and she leaps smoothly from the wall, black boots sending a light spray of gravel to bounce off us.

“Name ’n’ business.“ She says boredly.

“Emma Bering” I say automatically, “and Iarin... uh....”

“I-iarin Ellith.”

“...‘Ellith’, eh? That ain’t a Hanoran name, is it?”

“N-no, it’s not.” Iarin says very quietly. “It’s E-ealymian.” Even more quietly.

“Riiiight.” The guard says, raising her eyebrows so much that the disappear into her copper bangs. “Ealym. I see.” she turns to me, adding derisively, “And Emma. Emma Bering. What the hell kind of alias is that? What did you do, just pick random letters?”

“...what... hey! I’m telling the truth, okay?”

“Uh huh.“

"Why the hell would you think we’re lying?!”

“Never said I thought that.”

“Yes you did! Like, five seconds ago!”

“Did I now. My memory must be going, eh? So anyways, lets hear the truth now, ‘kay?”

“I’m not lying! Dammit, will you listen to me?!”

“Can you prove that?”

“Well, I...” I think about it for a moment. “Actually, I can.” I fish out the pass the Councilwoman gave me from the depths of my bag. It looks a little worse-for-wear after it’s journey, but it still bears the pale green seal of the Council in its upper left corner.

The guard wrinkles her nose. “What’s that? Some lame waiver? Look, kiddo, I’m a very important person, got it? I don’t have time for what your village mayor is saying down in Sarracor, all right?”

“What’s a very important person doing out in front of the doors like a common sentry?” I ask coolly. Don’t ask me why, but this lady is really starting to tick me off.

“I’m setting an example.” she replies haughtily, without missing a beat. “The guards all over the Republic have been getting lazy. There was even this half-wit in some backwater hamlet in the south... Yoake, I think it’s called. Anyhow, this guy let in a dangerous creature controlled by the Sareilians... it got way out of control, got a Spellweaver involved, and even made it’s way up to the Council, (which is how we heard of it, they sent word a few days ago). What an idiot, can you imagine?!”

“Not at all.” I murmur dutifully, handing her the Council’s pass.

The guard looks over it, her eyes widening as they move down the page. “Well well. An order from Councilor Beckett herself, eh? Aren’t we special.“ She steps over to the heavy gate and just pulls it open, without so much as a blink of irritation. “Sorry ‘bout that. Gotta be careful, and all, if we want to keep the Bleacheads out.”

“The who?”

“She means the Sareilians.” says Iarin quietly.

“Yeesh, how clueless can you be? You do know there’s a war on, right?” The guard calls over her shoulder, “Pathetic.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the gate?” I snap at her.

“My shift’s over,” She calls back. “And besides, I’ve got to keep you out of trouble, don’t I now? You don’t look like you could find your way out of a paper bag.”

I’m not sure how she can really show us where to go if she’s flouncing haughtily about 20 feet ahead, but I say nothing, in hopes of turning around and ditching her.

“I wouldn’t try to go anywhere if I were you.” the guard adds sharply, “Naroth isn’t the kind of place where any dumbass can just wonder around at will. There’s people here who’ll kick your pansy butts into next week, unless you stick with me.”

“O-of course.” says Iarin before I can yell at the guard again, “B-but we were wondering... If you could help us...”

“Oh yeah? With what?”

“We’re looking for someone.” I tell her, glad we’re finally getting to the point, “A man named Attaraya. Head of the guards in Naroth, or... something like that. You know him?”

She gives me a look halfway between a smirk and a pout. “I’m not sure whether or not I should be offended by that.” She says, flipping her hair back self-importantly.

“Wha?” I ask, confused.

The guard glares at me. “I’m Attaraya.” she says.

----

Gah! I'm hugely late, I know. Sorry!

Not too happy with this bit, it feels sorta rushed... and yet nothing really happens. >_< But I'm glad to have Attaraya back again. XD I've missed her so very much, these last seven chapters. Anyhow, all critique is appreciated, of course, and thanks for all the crits so far! I'm really grateful!