A Place To Bloom

The Gate

The day's hiking had been brutal. The road had taken us up a steep incline and led us along a ridge with a sheer drop on both sides. More than twice we had to hold hands; not that the road was narrow, but we were exhausted and vertigo had begun to set in. Yet even at that immense elevation, towers of pointy rock shot up into the sky for several more thousands of feet, raw and unbroken. So many beautiful peaks no one had ever climbed.

It was to be our last night in the wilderness. We'd found a deep bowl of a cavity in a near-perfect circle some sixty feet in diameter at the rim with steep walls and a spiral pathway cut along the interior leading us at least sixty feet down towards the bottom where a lush green garden was warm and moist. Someone had planted tomatoes, basil, and garlic among other things, and we had with us some salt blocks leftover from before and dried bread crisps.

At last, something besides strips of smoked meat and crushed maple-almond trail rolls.

Ales kept holding out his hand and moving it through the air while Faren glanced around at the interior walls, in some places carved out from rock with chisel markings still on the wall, and in other places giant unhewn stones were mortared together. The floor was leveled with black dirt, warm and moist, amid trails of gray, irregular sheets of slate. "How is this place possible?"

Geraln sat on his mat and leaned his back against the stone wall, trying to rub the exhaustion out of his temples. He yawned and got into the physics of it. "The stone walls collect heat from the sun and shield it from the wind." He grabbed the orca being handed to him and took a deep drag. I could hear the crackling flowers of the happy cabbage. Then he resumed his explanation with smoke pouring from his mouth. "Moisture comes from snow melting higher up, which further traps heat."

Davod took the pipe and added, "high up in Osenia, they got places like this all over. Some of them ancient clans still don't believe in the Empire, so... you know."

It occurred to me that he'd blabbed about me and Sarina, so it was only fair. "One of those clans is a few hours east from Gath; Davod had a huuuuge crush on this girl..."

"Shut up!" he blushed, almost laughing.

"Oh, yeah!" Geraln continued. "Naleen? Nali?"

"Na-la-nya," Davod corrected him, still laughing.

I continued. "Her brother told him he couldn't court his sister unless Davod beat him in a fair fight."

Davod shook his head with a smile. "Scrappy five-foot runt; gods, he was tough!"

Faren smiled. "Got your arse kicked, didn't you?"

"Damn right, I did!"

We all laughed.

Davod continued. "Chief's the one gave the old friar that bow Caleb's got with him."

"Oh yeah?" Ales glanced at me and passed the pipe along.

I confirmed, "his wife fell ill during childbirth so they sent someone down to get Mother Searnie. The bow was their idea of payment."

Geraln bit into our unexpected delicacy and groaned. "Some olive oil would make this!"

Faren answered, "you got any?"

"You think I'd hold out on you, man?"

Conversation that evening didn't last long. Mostly, we were all tired and went to sleep. We were awakened by the warmth of the sun on our faces; we'd slept so long. After a quick meal of dried berries and more rolls, we packed up and climbed the spiral trail out of the warm bowl and back onto the frigid road.