Chapter 1

  The Mountain

  In a land of vicious chasms and unsteady ground, there was a vast mountain of sheer cliffs and steep slopes. It was populated with sparse trees and long grass that grew out of the shale and crumbling soil clinging to its sides. The monstrous rise filled the sky, disappearing into the black clouds that always hid the sun and never brought any rain. Long, glistening streaks descended down the cliffs, although whether this precious liquid came from the caress of the clouds or never-before-seen springs, no one could tell. And from all around, people gathered to stare and marvel with a soul-deep discomfort at what they were witnessing.

  There were all manner of people in attendance. The mountain had been there as long as anyone could remember, and so had the crowd. It was immense, like a great inland lake of people, with streams of pilgrims entering and leaving slowly. And yet, the total population of the gathering never changed significantly. Suspicion and uncertainty filled the eyes of new arrivals. Gnawing terror or a scornful derision was writ on the faces of those who departed. Few were those who set out to climb it, and many never returned. Those who did return left in short order, becoming one of those terrified or hate-filled departees.

  A lone girl pushed her way desperately toward the front of the throng. She had been struggling through the sea of people for what seemed like hours, but even that measurement of time meant little when the sun was not visible. Indeed, she now had only something like a half-remembered dream of what she thought a sun might even be, and no way to confirm or deny with certainty the existence of such a thing. She had left its warm touch upon her skin a good week’s march previous.

  She pushed onward. No one resisted her advance, so caught up where they in their disturbed observation of the phenomenon. Her rags fluttered about her in the fitful breeze, her matted black hair matching the movement. Fatigue clutched at her heels, but a heartfelt urgency drove her like a lash as if her life depended on it. There was nothing else for her now. Any hope she had was built upon the rumours of what was to be found at the top of the mountain.

  “Tis just a mountain,” scoffed one man nearby. “I expected more.”

  “They say a great kingdom is at the summit,” insisted someone else. “A kingdom of no sorrows, with streets of gold!”

  “Nonsense,” laughed the first man, turning away, his eyes seeming to deaden.

  The girl pushed onward. Perhaps it was nonsense. Perhaps there was such a kingdom. Perhaps any one of the multitude of rumours she had heard was true. Whatever lay upon that mountain was at least unknown. The kingdoms and empires of the plains were a well-documented evil to her, however, and far more so than anyone of her young years should have to know. She would climb the mountain. And if she perished in the attempt, at least she would have tried everything.

  Her breath came in ragged gasps now. For every person she pushed past, twenty more seemed to take their place. The mountain remained, practically hanging above her and filling her vision, without ever seeming to get any closer. The terrain was cruel, festooned with small, sharp rocks that were easy to turn one’s ankle on, and also jabbing painfully through her thin sandals. She stumbled once, and barely managed to keep her balance before her other foot skidded badly on another area and she went down on one knee.

  Pain erupted in her knee as if someone had delivered a sharp blow to a nail positioned there, and she was promptly on her side, her body toppling her over involuntarily to preserve her knee as best it could. She bit down viciously on her bottom lip, but a strangled cry of agony still forced its way out. Through eyes blurring with the onset of tears, she gazed with a foreign hunger at the mountain.

  I have come so far … why must I fail here? My knee …

  She tried to stand, but her leg would not hold her weight without that same sensation of a nail in her knee reigniting. A little whimper of bitter frustration snuck past her lips, drawn taut as they suppressed both physical and emotional pain, and she stood there for a long time, willing the pain to die down. It did not.

  What will I do? I can barely move across flat ground now. How will I climb the mountain even if I reach it? I have failed before I even began.

  The tears dribbled down her cheeks, but they were driven more by frustrated effort than pain. The girl put her good foot in front of her, and then gingerly brought along the other.

  Move, you pathetic creature, she railed against herself. Move! You are not one of these silent golems, standing in dumbstruck wonder without the will to move either forward or backward! You are the daughter of one of the most feared warlords in the East! You have chosen to climb the mountain! Now go!

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  The tears slowly changed as she forced herself past the frustration, but now they did indeed become tears of pain as she forced her body to move. It became quickly apparent that moving was not the sum of her problems. The crush of multitudes of people that she had so easily slipped between earlier now pressed in around her and prevented her progress as if she were trying to push through a hedge of briars. She tripped again, and braced herself for more pain.

  Strong fingers roughly grabbed at her upper arm and kept her upright, albeit at the cost of some dignity and an awkward pain in her shoulder. They remained wrapped about her arm only long enough for her to find her balance, and then released her. It was a young man, his skin like ebony, although lightened in tone by the pale dust of the land. He held up his hands, as if expecting a verbal lashing for the contact. In another time and place, the girl might not have disappointed him. But things were different now and she knew herself far better than she liked.

  “My thanks,” she gasped, breathing hard. She sighed shakily, staring at the rocky ground beneath her feet. “I may not have had the will to rise from that fall.”

  The lad dipped his head respectfully. He was draped in the rich indigos of an indentured warrior of the deep South, a man with no future except what his master allowed him. The girl thought perhaps he was a runaway, albeit of a different sort to herself. Unless, of course, his master was here as well.

  No, she thought then. Masters do not come to this place. Perhaps this is fortuitous.

  “I … I can pay you if you will help me to the mountain,” she offered haughtily. She drew up her ragged, loose, sleeves to show the golden bracelets of a station she had held a long time ago.

  The lad slapped her hand away and hurriedly hid her arms again.

  “That is not wise,” he said in a low, urgent, voice.

  He struck me! thought the girl, appalled at both the contact and the manner of it. How dare … Then her mind caught up with the boy’s words, and understanding followed.

  “Not everyone here stares at the mountain,” the boy warned. “Many slip in among the curious only to harass and exploit.” He straightened his back proudly. “I have no need for your trinkets.”

  The girl’s face fell, but the boy was not finished.

  “I will take you to the mountain, for that is where I go as well.” He turned his face towards the mountain and stared at it with a fierce determination. White teeth flashed against his dark skin as he grinned his commitment to the inanimate massif. He turned his attention back to the girl. “I am Taya. What will I call you?”

  “Janak,” replied the girl uncertainly. “What do you gain from this?”

  “It is good to travel with companions,” Taya said factually. “Especially when the terrain is unfamiliar … and potential enemies even more so.”

  “You mean to climb the mountain?” Janak breathed. She hated the idea of anyone feeling as if she needed them, but could not deny that the company would be useful.

  Taya nodded down at her. “I do,” he confirmed. “But first must we must make it to the foothills.”

  “It is my good fortune to meet you then,” Janak said cordially, if reluctantly. “I must warn you, however … I am the bearer of an Oddity. I may be half-crippled, but I will burn you to a cinder should you make any effort to harm me.”

  How amazing that the one who brutalised her own servants once upon a time should have to resort to such threats now! You, who thought you were so far above the wit and understanding of those around you, must now desperately threaten violence just to feel the bare minimum of safety with a strange man!

  “You have nothing to fear from me,” returned Taya grimly.

  To Janak’s inner horror, she thought he looked offended at the very insinuation of any sort of physical attraction to her. Of course, she realised bleakly. I look like a beggar on the side of the road who can barely even walk on her own power. The lowest whore in my father’s city is dressed better and cleaner than I am now.

  “My shame is deep enough without piling more on by attacking a lone woman,” Taya continued. “Indeed … perhaps I will get further if I have someone to protect.”

  “Then let us travel together,” Janak murmured, semi-repentantly.

  “Let it be so,” Taya agreed. Then, he propped his spear against his shoulder and swept Janak up in his arms, seeming to hold her as easily as he might a newborn lamb. Without a word, he somehow managed to get a hold of his spear’s shaft and, with it still leaning on his shoulder, he set off at a brisk walk.

  “Un-unhand me!” Janak stammered hysterically, having frozen for the critical moment it took for Taya to pick her up.

  She struggled half-heartedly for a moment before Taya looked down at her quizzically as if she were being an unashamed fool.

  “Is this not far quicker than the alternative?” he asked seriously.

  Janak froze, her hands folded across her chest in her panic, staring up wide-eyed at the person upon whose mercy she had thrown herself. She continued staring up at him as he continued his march. People protested as her tattered sandals brushed past their shoulders, but Taya continued walking, completely at ease. Even burdened by her, he moved almost as quickly as she had before her fall. Janak had the suspicion that he might have been even faster if they were on open ground.

  “Thank you,” she chewed out, feeling far more embarrassed than truly grateful.

  “You are welcome,” nodded Taya resolutely.