Shadow of Dawn

Chapter 6

The entire haven rumbled as Valmyr rolled the boulder back into place, but the light barely faded. A fire blazed in the center of a rounded cavern large and high enough for several grown men to fit in. The smoke drifted casually upward, thickening against the ceiling before filtering out through a small gap in the stone. Daylight sifted in, making specks of dust dance and shine.

Across the fire, a woman lay wrapped in thick furs with a whimpering wolf pup cradled in her arms. Her ashen skin was as wrinkled as the pup's pink hide, hers with crippling age, its with newborn baldness. She said nothing as the three hesitantly stepped into the cave, eager to warm their hands and feet against the flames. Her eyes fluttered open and close, revealing milky white orbs streaked with black veins. A low hum came from her breast, it seemed she was trying to sing to the pup but her voice was too weak. She had not heard them enter the cave.

'Elder?' Valmyr said loudly. She jolted to life, looking blindly around her. It was hard to read a withered face, but she seemed more surprised than frightened.

'Who goes?' she asked with a voice that creaked like dead branches in the wind. The pup writhed in her arms, but she gripped its nape with wiry strength and cooed it back to sleep. It was only when the faint echo of her words died down and the light passed over her face that Valmyr finally recognized her.

Vyrda, the elder who had sent the first folk into the dawn.

'Elder Vyrda? It is I, Valmyr, son of Thorval, with my sister and father.' Valmyr eyed his father, wondering whether he would say anything. 'Our... We were ambushed by the old kin at the stone circle on the round hill. Three of us are left, seeking peace and rest.'

The crone listened to the tale intently, eyes closed almost as if she were sleeping but her lips chewed on nothing and her fingers kept stroking the pup. It took her a long time to answer. She seemed to be arguing with herself silently. When had she gone blind? When had she gotten so weak? Valmyr remembered her dark, glittering gaze. Remembered the iron strength of her voice as she had persuaded the bloodrings to head east mere moons ago. What had happened to her?

'Tale of woe, an echo these dark days,' she croaked between hacking, wheezing coughs. They leaned in to hear her over the crackle of the fire. 'My own ring was taken by the ghônts.... Slow we fled, I on my son's back, the little ones carrying what they could on little shoulders. Hard going—'

'Where are the others?' Valmyr interrupted, his curiosity forcing him to break all traditions of respect. Why was she alone in this haven?

'Others? What others?' the blind elder threw him a dark empty look. 'Over ice and through the woods we went. Dead everywhere. Old kin stalking us. Havens empty. A foulness in the wind, yes, even my old nose can sniff it...' she whispered.

'Are you alone here?'

'Alone? The others, where are they? Where is my son?'

The blind pup tried to howl but all that came out was a meek whine. Vyrda shook her head and spoke again, as if forgetting her own questions and words. Had she lost her wits? Valmyr had seen it happen to his mother's mother, when he was little more than a stumbling child. 'The first folk are fleeing, leaving behind the old and the crippled. Leaving behind skeletons. We are no longer the strong and the many, but the weak few.'

'Your ring headed east. You told us to go east! How far did they go?' Valmyr edged closer to the crone. He needed to know if they were still alive. If there was a sliver of hope to join another bloodring...

'Yes, east, they all went into the dawn and against the winds. Where else? West and north lie the mountains and the ice, where the old kin grow. That we know.'