Keeper of the Mists Read online

  She lay atop a thick, soft bear skin, and her legs were tangled in a rough blanket. A smoky peat fire in a stone ring at the center of the hut provided a faint light. The room began to seem familiar, as if she had been here before, but the haze of smoke made her feel as if she was still dreaming.

  Her thoughts returned to the dream in which she had just been immersed.

  She walked at the head of a solemn procession, followed by attendants dressed in fine clothes, but of a style she had never seen. A young man, tall and muscular, but with a stern face, looked at her through tear-filled eyes. She forced herself to look away from him, and instead focused ahead, where a man in a dark robe stood behind an altar, upon which lay a stone sword…

  “You are finally awake, then?” Larris knelt beside her. His eyes were bleary and his hair disheveled as if he had not slept in days. “I am glad. You gave us quite a fright in more ways than I care to count.” He smoothed her hair with an air of familiarity that seemed inappropriate, but strangely, she did not mind. Perhaps it was the fatigue.

  It was coming back to her now. She and her friends had fled their village, met up with Larris and Allyn on their journey, and gone with them in search of the Silver Serpent. They had journeyed into the mountains and…

  “Where?” Her own voice sounded strange in her ear. “How did I get here?” The questions died on her lips. There were too many things she wanted to ask, so much she did not understand, and the whirlwind of confused thoughts was more than her weary mind could bear. She fell back onto the bearskin and closed her eyes. “I don’t remember…”

  “Shanis, I need you to think.” Larris sounded uncomfortable. “Tell me, exactly how much do you remember?”

  She tried to recall the events of the previous days. Of course, she had no idea how long she had been in this hut. How long ago had her most recent memory been?

  “I remember the golorak.” She shuddered at the mental image of the grotesque creature that had nearly killed them in the caverns beneath the mountains. She felt his hand on her forearm, and she did not pull away. “We found the chamber. Then the snake came alive and I lost my sword. I was so scared and confused; I tried to grab the stone sword from the statue. Everything is fuzzy after that. Mostly I remember strange dreams of flying through the air and fighting a giant serpent. All my dreams have been odd.”

  “It was not a dream.” Larris spoke softly, but his grip on her tightened. “You did fight the snake. The stone sword became a real sword, and you used it against the snake. You hurt it and it tried to flee, so you followed it out through a tunnel and,” his voice grew hoarse, and he seemed to choke on the next words, “and into the sky. Somehow you took us up with you. When the fight was over, we were lying on a hill in Lothan. Horgris found us the next day. This is the encampment of the Hawk Hill clan—his clan.”

  She grew increasingly numb with each word. It was impossible, but in the depths of her soul she knew it to be true. Her old obstinate nature welled up within her, and she sat up, her ire rising.

  “That is the most ridiculous heap of goat dung I have ever heard.” She looked him in the eye, and he met her gaze with a level stare. As desperately as she wanted to cling to her disbelief, she could not deny it. Her anger fled as quickly as it had come and, to her horror, she began to cry, the firelight sparkling like diamonds through her tears. “How can it be?”

  “That stone sword is the reason.” Larris looked up at the ceiling, then back at her. “It is the Silver Serpent.”

  “No,” she gasped. “It was for you, not me. You have to take it.” She realized she was babbling and clammed up. Her thoughts now spun so fast she was surprised Larris could not hear the buzzing they seemed to create in her mind.

  “I cannot take it. I tried. When you came down from… the sky, you dropped it on the ground. I tried to pick it up and it felt like my entire body was afire and frozen at the same time. I was certain it had burned my hand off, but there was nothing. Hierm tried as well, but the same thing happened to him. Allyn refused to even attempt it. Finally, we used our swords to push it onto my cloak. Once it was covered, we were able to bundle it up and carry it away, but no one can actually touch it. A few of Horgris’ men have also tried and failed. They finally gave up.”

  He inclined his head toward the far wall. The sword leaned there, the firelight dancing on the image of the serpent etched in the blade, seeming to bring it life. The jeweled eye sparkled back at her in sinister silence. Larris clasped her hand in both of his. “For good or ill, I fear you are now the bearer of the Silver Serpent.”

  She did not know what to say. It was all too much to take. She shook her head. “There must be some way to give it up. It can’t be me.”

  “It has marked you. Look here.” Gently he grasped the low neckline of her loose-fitting tunic and slid it down to uncover her chest just above her left breast. It was a measure of her stupefied state that she permitted him to do so.

  A silver serpent, the twin of the one she had seen carved in the rock above the lost city of Murantha, shone on her chest. Instinctively, she tried to wipe it away, and then claw it away, but to no avail. It felt like stone affixed to her skin. Larris pulled her hands away. Her first instinct was to fight him, but then her whole body sagged. She let her head fall against his chest, and she cried tears of confused despair.

  Her entire world had changed. Who was she? What was she? Had this somehow altered her very nature? Was she still the farm girl whose father had taught her to use the sword? Was she even human anymore? Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be back at home with her father and her friends.

  Her friends.

  She pushed away from Larris. “Where are the others?”

  “Hierm is nearby, sleeping in one of the huts. He offered to take a turn sitting with you, but I didn’t mind.” He shrugged and looked away.

  “Allyn is out hunting. He has not been himself for some time, but he’s been especially out of sorts ever since…” He neither finished the sentence, nor mentioned their other companions.

  “What about Oskar and Khalyndryn? Where are…” Another memory formed in her mind. She did not want to believe it, but the look on his face confirmed it. “They fell, didn’t they? They fell and I could not reach them.” The tears came anew. Larris pulled her close. “We have to go back for them,” she said with little conviction.

  “You know we cannot,” he said. “Once we made our way back, how would we find them again? Who knows where that chasm ended, or where they might have gone by the time we got there? That is, if they…”

  “Don’t say it.” He was probably right, but to speak of it made her feel as if she was giving up what little hope remained. “They have to be alive.” She sat for a long time in the silence, grieving for lost friends and the loss of her life as she knew it. “What do we do next?”

  “Go back to Galdora I suppose. Prophecy holds that the Silver Serpent is crucial to the crown in some way. Until we know what that means, I would keep you close by my side.”

  “Only until then?” She jerked away from him, not sure why his words angered her. Perhaps it was because suddenly her life seemed to no longer be her own. “Have you forgotten the other prophecy? Didn’t Martrin say that whoever bears the Silver Serpent will reunite the clans? Won’t they try to keep me here when they find out?”

  “Shanis, I…”

  “I am right, aren’t I?” She did not wait for his reply. “Well I have something to say to you and everyone else. I might have been branded like an animal, but I am not your cow to be herded along wherever you please. I will do exactly what I want, when I want to do it, and no one will stop me.” She clambered to her feet, slower than she had intended, but determined not to let Larris see any weakness in her. “Where are my clothes?”

  He pointed to a neatly folded pile next to the sword.

  “Thank you. Now get out.”

  Larris stalked to the doorway, turned and folded his arms across his chest. He looked as if he were about to argue, but he changed his mind. He gave her a curt nod and pushed his way through the thick skins that hung from the door frame.

  Getting dressed was no easy task. She was still weak, and she felt like she might faint when she leaned over to lace her boots. She had been provided a basin of tepid water. She scrubbed her face, determined to erase all signs of the tears she had shed. She hated crying, and she hoped she never did it again. Her hair was a tangled mess, but she combed it out the best she could and tied it back.

  Finally, she took a long look at the sword. Her sword. The thing that now apparently marked her new identity and her new purpose in the world. At least until she could figure out a way to get rid of the thing.

  Forcing herself to ignore her fears, she picked it up. She touched it gingerly at first, but when she was certain that it was not going to burn her arm or carry her up into the clouds, she took a firm grip and held it out in the dim light so she could examine it more closely.

  It was beautiful. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and the etched serpent seemed to writhe as the light played along its scales. The hilt, shaped like the open mouth of a fanged serpent, was deadly looking. She noted how light the sword felt. That could not be right. This sword was a hand longer than the one her father had gifted her, yet she could easily wield it with one hand. She chuckled. If the thing could make her fly and fight giant snakes in the sky, she supposed making itself almost weightless was a relatively small matter.

  She was pleased to see that someone had provided her with a simple scabbard and a shoulder harness. She slid the blade home and slung the strap over her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself before striding forth from her dim, smoky hut and into the damp morning air. It was time to face the world.

  The cool autum
n mist clung to her face, teasing her senses into wakefulness. She inhaled the cool mountain air and felt life returning to her sleep-fogged mind and weary body. Her eyes took in the haunting, lonely beauty of the fog-shrouded hills. They looked like she felt: desolate and somehow private, as if the fog hid their true nature from prying eyes.

  She wended her way through the waking encampment. Smoke from cook fires hung low in the moist air, snaking through the gaggle of huts like ethereal serpents. A chill ran down her spine. She did not want to think about serpents of any kind.

  A few of the Monaghan acknowledged her with a nod or curt greeting, but most just stared. She heard their whispers as she walked past. “That be her. She be the one.”

  “Shanis. Over here!” Hierm’s voice was blessedly familiar. He hurried over to her, his damp, white-blond hair plastered to his face. He clutched her in a bear hug, and she returned the embrace with gratitude. “I’m so happy you’re all right.” He looked her over, as if trying to convince himself that she truly was well. A frown suddenly marred his face. “Did Larris tell you what happened?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. Larris wants me to stay close to him because he thinks I’ll be important to Galdora’s future. But I just don’t know. I thought I was trapped back home, but now I wonder if my life will ever be my own.” She pulled away from him, keeping her head up and her gaze level. She was disconsolate, but felt herself already growing impatient with her feeling of helplessness. She would not be ordered around.

  “There you do be, girl.” Horgris lumbered up to her, his eyes shining and his face more open and friendly than she had ever seen it. The remains of his breakfast clung to his beard, and he held a half-full tankard of ale in one hand. He smiled and clapped her on the back. “Good to see you awake, it do be. Wondered if we ever would, that we did. Come with me and we will talk.” Having nowhere else to go, Shanis followed, taking Hierm along with her.

  When they reached his hut, Horgris went on in without any formality. Shanis assumed she was invited, so she followed him inside. They settled down on bearskin rugs laid out around the fire ring. Horgris stoked the fire, added a chunk of peat and blew on the coals until it caught. She watched the heavy, pungent smoke spiral up to the smoke hole in the ceiling and out into the foggy morning sky.

  “I don’t need to be telling you how surprised we all be. What with you being the one. We kept council about it over the whole night, arguing and such.” He took a swig of ale and wiped the foam away with a hairy forearm. “They don’t all be liking it, but here be the way it is. If you be willing to lead us, we be willing to follow.” He placed his mug of ale on the ground and stared at her, waiting for a reply.

  “I don’t know what to say. Lead you?” She had been prepared for him to make demands, even threats if she did not take up the Silver Serpent and follow them, or perhaps find a way to give it over to them. But to lead? Lead them where? She shifted uncomfortably and looked at Hierm, who only shrugged and moved his head side-to-side in a non-committal way. She looked again at Horgris and wondered how he felt about giving his allegiance to a young outlander girl. What must it cost him to even make this offer to her?”

  “I never expected to find the Silver Serpent, much less bear it, so I was not at all prepared for what I woke to find. One thing I can tell you, though, is that I am no leader. I never have been.”

  Horgris laughed.

  “You don’t need to be worryin’ about that now. You are destined to lead, and the power of the serpent will guide us. And whatever you don’t be knowing, I can help.” He raised his hand to silence the protest that was forming on her lips. “Hear me out before you be arguing with me.

  “When I was a boy the fightin’ be not going on for so very long. I remember me Pap tellin’ me about how it was before. You know we used to have games? Every year the clans would gather for games and feasting. We did no fight with the Malgog, either. They no be our favorites, but we were at peace. It was a place our children could be growing old.” He paused and stared into the fire, as if his memories were visible within its light. “My daughter be expecting my first grandchild. I would see that child grow up in a different world than that which I do know. You can change that.”

  “I cannot change anything.” How could he believe her capable of such things? She was a farm girl. “I have never done anything right in my life.” Hierm laid a hand on her arm, but she shrugged it off. She did not know why she was unburdening herself to Horgris, but now she had started and would not stop until she had her say. “I am the most selfish person you will ever know. I spent my life believing I should have whatever I wanted. The only thing I am good at is using a sword, and you have plenty of those. I am no good to you or anyone else.”

  “Stop it, girl.” Horgris winced. “You be making my head hurt something fearful. Let me say this. It takes character to be admittin’ your faults, but I’ll wager you be no as bad as you be thinkin’ you are. You did no have to take part in the quest, but you did, and you fought for your friends. I also hear tell of that other thing you did. I don’t know what it be meaning, but it took courage. In any happenstance, the prophecy say you be the one to bring us back together, and if I believed nothing else, I believe that. We need someone to reunite us, girl, and you be the one. Help us. Please.”

  Shanis sat dumbstruck. He wanted an answer. Needed one. But what could she say? No matter what she decided, it would be wrong. Larris was convinced that she was critical to the safety of their homeland, and did she not owe something to the place from which she came? But what of these people? Horgris’ words had touched her heart in a way she would not have thought possible from the brutish chieftain. Lothan had suffered for so long. What would her answer be?

  She was saved the trouble of giving a reply when a familiar young girl burst through the draped hide doorway.

  “Be it true? Do he really be here?” The girl’s eyes fell upon Hierm and she let out a cry that was at once both joyous and despondent. Hierm had scarcely reached his feet when she hurled herself into his arms and began sobbing.

  “Rinala!” Horgris bellowed. “What be the meaning of this?” He lurched heavily to his feet and stared at the two with a look of utter confusion and helplessness that was entirely out of place on this forceful man. “What you be doing, girl?”

  Shanis looked at the young woman, then back to Horgris, and she understood.

  Rinala finally loosened her grip on Hierm, who was staring at her in astonishment. Tears flowed freely down her lightly tanned cheeks, and her smile brightened the dim, smoky room. She took his hand and laid it on her rounded belly. “I am only a few moons, but I will give you a son. The bone woman told me so.”

  “A son?” Hierm’s face went ashen. “What do you mean?”

  “You be the only man I am ever laying with. No one before you. No one after. I will give you a strong son, I promise. And I will be a good wife to you.”

  Hierm’s lips were moving but he made no sound. Horgris bellowed so loudly that Shanis reached for her sword, but there was no need.

  “My boy!” Horgris thumped him on the back so hard that he took a step forward. “A pleasure to welcome you to the family it will be. This girl been no telling me who it was, but now I be seeing why. Fearful for your life, she was.” He pumped his fists and laughed. “Wait until the other chiefs be hearing that me daughter be marrying one of the Six! Good blood, I tell ye, and a good omen.” His celebration finished, he wrapped his arms around his daughter and the still-dumbstruck Hierm. “I am proud of ye, Rinala. You done good.”

  Suddenly remembering Shanis, he smiled at her. “Do think about what I have said. We’ll be talking more later, girl. I do have a wedding to arrange.”

  Chapter 3

  The wedding took place three days later. In accordance with Monaghan tradition it was held on a hilltop and in the moonlight. Hierm, though stunned by Rinala’s revelation, was determined to do what he believed was the right thing. Horgris’ enthusiasm at having a member of “The Six,” as he called it, had rubbed off on his clansmen. Hierm was suddenly a well-loved member of the community, never without a companion or a mug of ale. He wandered the camp dazed by shock and strong drink in equal measure.