A Place To Bloom

Ulum

The city of Ulum stretched along the valley like a narrow ribbon for miles to the east and west below us. To the south beyond, jagged white teeth of the Terbulin mountains forbade us from Carthia but for a single narrow pass.

Geraln rested on a stone in the shade of a pine tree with drifts of dirty snow all about us, letting out white puffs of breath as he spoke. "How... high... are we?"

I answered. "I know that Ulum is about twelve-thousand feet, so we're probably about thirteen where we stand?"

Davod stood leaning his hand against the same tree; he couldn't speak through gaping at the view below us. Geraln shook his head and pushed his words through labored breaths. "What kind of... lunatic... would build... a city up here?"

Davod bobbed his head back and forth. "What kind of lunatic would bring an army up here to attack it?"

Geraln raised a finger. "Good point!"

That made me laugh. "Remember, we have to go over that pass over there," I pointed. "Just looking at it from here, that's got to be at least sixteen-thousand feet. This is nothing. I say we rest the night in Ulum and set out in the morning."

Davod protested. "It's not even noon. It looks like we can make it through the city in an hour; we should make it a good ways before nightfall."

"Geraln needs time to get acclimated. We're also going to need supplies. Dariana said it would take about five days to breach the pass, and seeing it now for myself I believe her. It looks like the road is well-maintained, but we're still going to need fuel pods, some extra food..."

"Why don't we just hunt for meat like we been doing?"

"Won't be anything up there. Once we go beyond the treeline, we'll be lucky to find so much as a hare."

Davod reached into his purse, pulled out a few coins, and looked them over. "If I give you thirty-five kren, will that be enough?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Sure."

Geraln sat still with his eyes closed, rubbing the sides of his nose up to his eyes and back while Davod counted out the coins and handed them to me.

"Come on," I said. "It should be a lot warmer down there."

So we set out. The road hugged the side of a steep, rocky incline—packed dirt amid rocks and snowdrift at both sides mixed with craggy pines and small wildflowers with tiny purple blooms that filled the cold air with a sweetness like honey. As we descended, the forest grew sparse and our view gave way to the imposing buildings of the city, with a few small shacks built into the steep sides of the cliff, worn with years of moss and half-torn apart while a plump old woman looked up from a wash basin and said nothing as we passed.

The chill air took on a warm undertone as the bright sunlight dominated the sky without so much as a hint of cloud and made the whole valley rather comfortable. The road took a sharp drop into some more shacks, before the outskirts surrendered to giant towers crowded together amid busy cobbled streets with throngs of people pushing their way through.

The narrow street descended further, and sounds of all kinds filled our ears. From the calling of merchants, creaking of wheels, blurs of conversations all dissolved into a mass of sound. Water splashed on stone. Drops hit my face from a woman three stories up tossing out the wash, and some man behind us shouting curses at her only for her to accuse his mother of something horrid before disappearing into her window. We muscled through another crowd of people gathered around a shop where the scent of fresh sour bread conquered all within its grasp.

"Gods, that smells good!" Geraln exclaimed.

Davod smiled. "Yeah, but look at that line. Let's get settled and come back."