“I detest this time of the year,” Zev muttered to himself. He rubbed the tension forming on the back of his neck. “It’s the leaves and the smell in the air. I wish I could hibernate like the bears and not wake until spring.”
Dyna hugged his arm. “There is only a month left of Autumn. Once it passes, you will feel better.”
Until next year.
But Zev didn’t want to repeat the same cycle. He was sick of feeling it year after year. It was suffering he hated, and it wouldn’t ever let him go.
Chapter 20
Zev
The pine trees thinned as Zev led Dyna through the forest to reunite with the others. Once he heard the gentle churn of water, he knew they were near. He pushed through a gap in the hedgerow, and they came up behind Rawn and Lucenna. The Zafiro Mountains rose above them like a silent behemoth resting on the spine of land. The iced peaks capped the high rise of the west, descending towards the east. A soft crash of water came from thin waterfalls spilling over a ridge. Pine trees carpeted the lower passes as far as the eye could see. And set between two immense cliffs were the dark waters of the Saxe Fjord.
So vast and so tranquil, he almost couldn’t believe there were carnivorous creatures in these depths. A thin layer of ice coated the edges of the bank, and the air was much brisker here. The surface reflected the afternoon sun and Cassiel’s form, where he flew overhead and continued into the horizon. A small rocky island rose in the center. Zev closed his eyes and breathed in the salty scent of the sea.
“We’ve arrived,” Dyna said, her breath clouding in the icy air.
Lucenna dismounted Fair and opened her satchel. Throwing out her hands, the air rolled with the crack of thunder as they watched her construct a gold shroud over the sky. Her brow tightened, and her arms strained as it grew and rounded over the mountains in an enormous, translucent dome, thicker than the veil she usually used.
“This will contain any sound and traces of magic we may expel,” Lucenna said, panting.
With a flick of her fingers, a purple light swirled with golden dust as it carried out the figure of a boat from her satchel. In the air, it expanded until it took the shape of a wooden rowboat. It landed on the bank with a hollow thump, two oars rattling inside.
“You really do have a boat,” Dyna said, rubbing her hands for warmth. “Where did you get it?”
Lucenna gave them an impish smirk. “I bought it for a bag of gold.”
Zev wasn’t sure if she was joking. He cupped Dyna’s icy hands in his, passing on his natural heat, and she gave him a grateful smile. “How many things do you have in there?” he asked Lucenna.
She simpered coyly. “You may never know.”
Rawn removed Fair’s saddle and bridle as he said in soft Elvish,“Ayav, Osom’reh. Son somerart’nocne nifal aled anat’nom.”
The white stallion neighed and galloped away.
“Where is he going?” Dyna asked worriedly as the stallion disappeared into the forest.
Rawn placed the horse tack in his pack. “Fair isn’t fond of deep water, my lady. He will take the long road around the fjord and rejoin us in a few days.”
“I hope he will be all right.”
“Fret not. Fair is capable,” Rawn said nonchalantly as Cassiel landed.
Zev sensed he sent the horse away to keep him out of danger, rather than his dislike for swimming.
Rawn took a breath and faced all of them. “Right, see the inner point that is the furthest from all the lake shores?” He pointed at the center of the fjord, where it was the darkest. “The deepest point is where Grindylows make their nest, and that is where their scales will have gathered. I will climb to that high ledge and cover you.” He motioned to a section of rock jutting out of the cliffside. “Cassiel will provide extra coverage on all fronts. Lady Lucenna and Lady Dyna will remain here on land to draw the grindylows away.”
Rawn met Zev’s gaze. “Take the boat and circle the shore until you are east of us to row to the nest. Go slow and do as little as possible to disturb the water. Do not draw their attention. Once you reach the center and the nest is clear, dive. Be swift and leave as soon as you have attained the scales.” He watched them all with grave seriousness. “Arm yourselves and keep your wits about you. Grindylows are fast and their claws are as sharp as any blade. Once they smell blood, they do not stop hunting.”
Cassiel crossed his arms. “Any more advice, Lord Norrlen?”
“Aim for the head,” he deadpanned.
The lack of optimism was making Zev nervous.
“God of Urn be with you all,” Rawn said and began climbing the cliffside.
Zev straightened and exchanged a nod with Cassiel. “We do this and we get those scales. Be careful out there.”
