Bloody hell, this is a scary bastard. I've never had a problem with heights, must be something about being bakaneko, even if it's bollocks that we always land on our feet we're really good when it comes to sudden drops, but just being close to this impossible emptiness is proper messing with me. If one of us loses it over the side of this it's over, no chance of rescue and a certain death from drowning or, more likely, getting pummelled to splinters by haphazard rocks under the water. It's enough to make a cat hang onto whatever grip they can find with all their claws.
It doesn't help that this road, such as it is, is perilously narrow. It's just about comfortable enough being on horseback, although my filly is sticking uncomfortably close to the wall on my right and I can't blame her in the slightest right now, truth be told I'm somewhat thankful for her fear in this instance. Even Kesla's taking it careful, and while Ulrich's a much braver sort than my own mount he's still a good deal more skittish right now. It's Gael and Wenrich on the cart behind us I'm scared for, there's barely enough room on this ledge for them.
Chancing a look back over my shoulder now, hoping my horse doesn't freak out while I'm not looking and pitch us right into the void, I see they're about as uncomfortable as they could possibly be right now. Wenrich is sitting up very straight on the bench right now, shoulders raised right up to his ears clearly advertising his displeasure, while his clenched teeth flash between peeled back lips, eyes narrowed to fuming slits as he resolutely concentrates on the road. Gael isn't even looking now, she's just sat stock still, gripping her staff in front of her with knuckles whiter than I've ever seen, eyes tight shut while it seems like she's muttering to herself, her face almost as pale as her knuckles. Even the carthorses look unhappy, a little frothy at the mouth and their eyes wide as they doggedly plod along the path, probably moving on pure instinct at the moment. After a moment I chance a look at their wheels and I genuinely have an involuntary reaction, a sharp intake of breath as a I see that there isn't even an inch of clear ground between them and grinding off into the empty.
Wincing, I turn back to the road ahead, and my horse grunts in a manner I could almost describe as grateful, as if acknowledging I'm finally paying attention again. I resist the urge to give her neck a little pat, envisioning her freaking right out and rearing in shock, pitching us both over the side trying to escape whatever she perceives is attacking her. Instead I simply shush her gently and leave her be.
The Hungrenn Gap is a truly terrifying place, really. The two towering cliff-faces close in tight around us, and even looking up gives me enough dizzy vertigo I did it once early on and now flat refuse to try it again in case it kills me. I've stopped looking down for similar but far more intimidating reasons, so as we ride all I can do is look ahead instead. So far the mist has made it hard to make much out, but as we get close to the bridge the uneven spray starts thinning enough for a proper look.
From a distance the bridge looked like a pathetically inadequate, spindly, fragile thing, but once I get proper eyes on it I can see it's actually more well-constructed than I would've first guessed. It's another beautiful example of dwarven architecture, hardened metal reinforcing stone that's probably stood here for centuries, and is likely to be here a millennium or more after we're all dead. The arches beneath are far more robust that they seemed from afar, actually somewhat overbuilt and therefore much more reassuring to look at, even if the whole thing is so massively long that the central stretch still looks uncomfortably thin. A criss-crossed latticework of heavy metal beams encases the entire construction, and this must surely add great strength to the whole thing. The truth is the closer we get the more impressive it becomes.
As we approach a second structure becomes clear beyond it, maybe twenty feet past, built less on the ledge itself than right onto the wall like some kind of tumorous growth in the slick pale grey stone of the cliff. Some kind of large shack, a haphazard mess of a building that serves no purpose that I can discern. There are platforms jutting out of it on at least three different levels, just hanging out over the gaping emptiness, and they're deeply uncomfortable to look at. What sane person would actually stand out on one of those things?
YOU ARE READING
NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: The Adventures of the Creeping Bam (BOOK 1: The Job)
FantasyTAO is a broken world held together with nothing but magic and the will of the gods who protect it and its people. Ten thousand years ago THE SUNDERING struck and Tao was almost torn apart by a terrible magical cataclysm which resulted in the plane...
