Every Glistening Night

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The wind howls. A frigid vortex encircles Ixek and I as we trek through mounds of snow. The world is painted white, and it's impossible to see how far we've traveled, how much further we must go until we reach the mountain pass. I press on only because Ixek keeps plodding forward. Judging by the pained expression etched in his brow, I may serve a similar motivating role.

"H-how much longer?" I say through chattering teeth. The sun has already peaked in the sky and is now in a slowly descending arc.

"Not m-much farther," Ixek replies.

Unease churns in my stomach. I only have a few days left before I must meet the Earthwatcher. If we keep trekking across the mountainside, I won't have a chance to finish the starlight robe, and all our efforts will have been for nothing.

The path we've taken finally takes a familiar turn. We walk alongside a long stretch of mountain, the same mountain Ixek climbed when we last came here. Apprehension tingles my nerves at the memory — Anderwres warriors chasing us, shooting arrows at my back. Hopefully things will go better this time.

Ixek stiffens beside me. Fear trickles into my veins accompanied by a healthy dose of adrenaline.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I don't know. But I don't see any sign that someone's been in the area. No sign of the scout team. Unless they've camped out closer to the pass..."

Something is wrong, I fill in. My knuckles tighten around the walking stick I picked up earlier this morning. Now, I realize it can double for a sword should the need arise.

We creep forward. Only a slight crunch betrays our approach. My breathing is quiet and steady, despite the hammering in my chest. It's so loud, I wonder if Ixek can hear it.

Ahead, something sticks out of the untouched blanket of snow. It's like a brown rock in a rounded oval shape. As we draw closer, more detail comes into view — a slight curve on one side, a shriveled surface, five knobs sticking from the top. It's one of the strangest rocks I've seen in my life.

It's not a rock. I gasp at the realization, and Ixek jumps, pulling his bow taut.

"A foot," I breathe, pointing to it. "There's a foot in the snow."

Ixek rushes forward. We frantically brush the snow aside.

Underneath lies a massacre. Broken arrows and bloodied bodies lay atop maroon-colored snow. My hand touches something hard only for me to uncover a man with an arrow protruding from his throat. The furs have been stolen from the warriors' backs, leaving them with only loincloths.

A sob chokes my throat. "It's horrible."

Ixek sands off another snow-buried figure. His glassy eyes stare down at another deadman. "Holdesk." He moves to digs in a different section, uncovering long, black hair and a strained female face. "Zaleki." He sniffs, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. "They're all dead."

It's too horrific, all these bodies with arrows sticking from withered flesh, limbs splayed and bent at grotesque angles. Yet I can't stop digging through the snow. Tears skate down my frozen cheeks, sticking to my skin.

"Celisae, we need to stop," Ixek says.

I can barely hear him. Who would do such a thing? Who is this inhumane?

"We need to leave," Ixek tries again. "Celisae, stop!"

My hand strikes something hard. I shovel the snow aside faster. I must see who lays beneath. No one can be forgotten. A body forms against a brownish backdrop. Tears blur his face, the bloody hole gaping in his forehead.