The Book of Terrus: The Wise and Powerful

Chapter 19 - Hollowtop Mountain

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"We have to cross...that?"

Lhara looked away from the ramshackle swinging bridge stretching in front of her to where Jath hung back on the ridgeline trail. He was staring at the bridge as though it were a living creature poised to strike. Lhara had to admit that the half-rotten boards inward toward the middle didn't look good. Still she had been expecting the thing to be gone altogether, so it was better than nothing.

"There's no other way south from here. I thought you said you wanted to reach Falerik in a hurry?" Lhara knew she sounded less concerned than she was. In truth, they were pushing the furthest boundaries of her knowledge of The Teeth. Only once before had Lhara ever been this far away from Trosk.

The old wood and rope bridge swayed precariously, hanging nearly half a league in the air above the valley floor far below. There was only one channel cut east to west through The Teeth that the mountain folk knew of. It was along the bottom of this very channel that The Old Mountain Road ran. To continue on their journey south following the spine of the world, Lhara and Jath would have to cross the chasm in front of them.

Thank the stars the wind was low that day. Even so, the ancient ropes, nearly as thick around as Lhara's knees, creaked ominously as they moved. If it weren't for the sturdy workmanship of the bridge in the first place, Lhara doubted it would it held together this long. Not even her ma's ma could have told them the names of the folk who first built the bridge across The Old Mountain Road.

As queasy as the swaying expanse of twine and planking made Lhara feel, it clearly had an even stronger effect on Jath. Whether his head had been troubling him today or no, the Factionist had somehow managed to go even whiter than usual. He lingered further up the trail, boots planted so firmly on the grey stone underfoot that he brought to mind a fencepost freshly rooted in place.

"Well?" Lhara prodded. "You have three gold Sols in Falerik with my name on them, and I intend to have them whether you're still frozen here or not." As an afterthought she added; "And your friend probably has no idea about the Obad running around with the army even now."

Neither thought apparently put much gusto in Jath's stride as he drew nearer to the bridge. Brow ever-so-slightly dewed with nervous sweat, Jath nevertheless did come to stand just off Lhara's shoulder.

"Would it make you feel better if I went first?" Lhara asked just a tad sourly.

"Actually no, it wouldn't."

"Then you'd rather be first, eh?"

Jath's eyes remained fixed on the slowly swaying bridge, or rather on the vast expanse of shadow-cast emptiness across which it spanned. The Old Mountain Road slithered along beneath like a thin, winding garter snake. The distance from where they stood to the valley floor was staggering for how abruptly it cut into the mountains.

Lhara sighed. Shouldering off her pack, she put Jath out of his misery and showed him the thick loop of rope coiled inside. "Only a fool would cross this rotting thing un-tied anyways. Here, take that end, and wrap it 'round one of the anchor posts twice before you grip it."

While Jath braced his end of the rope as she'd said, Lhara took the free end and tied it across her chest, securing it beneath the arms and at the waist so that, if she were to fall, it wouldn't slip and accidentally strangle her. She secured the makeshift harness with a knot and tugged it sharply to her satisfaction.

Gooseflesh on the back of her neck reminded Lhara that she wasn't alone. So used to wandering alone up in The Teeth, Jath's presence somehow almost succeeded in startling her before she remembered. She supposed she ought to make sure he was clear on just what they were doing, master outdoorsman as Jath clearly was.