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“Go on, Anna!” shouted Heribert. “You’ve got to get her back! We can’t carry the rest across this!”
She heard the others arrive, heard their shocked exclamations and the buzz of discussion, but she could not concentrate on them to pick out words. She had to pick a path across the face, one handhold and toehold at a time, and at last she swung onto the far ledge which by now resembled a grand broad field, it looked so inviting and safe although it wasn’t more than an arm’s span in width. She landed there, panting, sweating, mouth dry, just as a horrible grinding roar shuddered up from the depths. In the passageway behind Heribert and the others, dust roiled, punched outward by a tremendous rockfall back the way they had come.
“Go, Anna! Go!” shouted Heribert before the dust engulfed him.
Despite the brilliant web of sorcery, she could not see Thiemo and Matto through the haze. She saw the blur of movement, glimpsed a Quman bow case and a Kerayit headdress, heard voices yell and shriek, but nothing more. Nothing more.
Far away, down that dark passageway lying behind her, Blessing called out impatiently. “Come! Come! Hurry!”
She ducked down, banging her head once on stone before getting the hang of the low ceiling. It was dark as the grave. No net of sorcery wove light to guide her footsteps. Twice she stumbled and bruised herself, and the third time she tumbled to hands and knees and yelped in pain.
A warm hand fastened on her shoulder. “Hurry! Where are the others?”
“They can’t cross, Your Highness.” She coughed. Dust had scoured her lungs. Grit abraded her palms. “They can’t carry Lord Thiemo and Matto across that wall. We’ve got to go back.”
“I can’t leave them behind!” cried Blessing, with a fury that caused her hand to tighten on Anna’s shoulder until it hurt. She should have been weak after her illness, but she wasn’t. “Papa says you never leave your companions behind. We have to rescue them.”
“I think there was a rockfall.” She coughed again. It hurt to cough. “We can’t go back the way we came. Ai, God. What if they’re all dead?”
The earth groaned and rumbled beneath them, around them, everywhere. They were trapped in a tomb and it was too late to save themselves. They would die here—
A body slammed into Anna, tripped over her, and went sprawling, knocking Blessing down.
“Highness!” Anna smelled the Kerayit healer, whose peculiar scent of sour milk and an unidentifiable musk always tickled her nose.
She sneezed. The others piled up behind them, trapped in the low tunnel. A cloud of dust blasted past them, choking the passage.
“Move! Move!” said Lord Berthold from out of the dust. “The whole place is collapsing.”
Anna scrambled forward, grabbing Blessing’s arm and pulling her along with her. They raced blind, tripping, stumbling, staggering, but the passage ran true, without turns or branches, until at length they stumbled onto stone steps, and climbed up them. Just as Anna realized that she could see through her stinging eyes, they emerged into a shallow cave carved out of a hillside by a massive collapse of dirt, as if half the side of the hill had fallen away. Dust puffed and billowed around them. Beyond, a sickly gray light bled color out of the air.
Anna crept to the opening. One by one the others joined her: Princess Blessing, Lord Berthold, his companion Jonas, the Kerayit healer, and last the young Quman soldier supporting Brother Heribert, who fell to his knees, hacking as though he meant to cough his lungs out. All of them wept blood from scrapes and cuts. All were covered with dust and dirt. Lord Berthold cursed and muttered, while Jonas tried to soothe him.
“They’re dead! Dead! I abandoned them! Ai, God, I’ve no honor left! I ran for my life. Better to have died—”
“Look!” shouted Blessing, and at the same moment the Kerayit healer cried, “Down!”
They dropped to their knees, but Anna stared anyway. She couldn’t stop staring. They looked out over a valley nestled between high peaks. Once the valley had boasted a fine rich forest along its slopes, but now the trees were tumbled and snapped, shorn down as though by a giant’s scythe. A vast creature hung suspended in the air, stretched across the hazy sky. It was there only for an instant, a flash of gold scales, before the sound of its wings thundered and it vanished beyond the peaks. Snow and ice crashed from the summit in a distant avalanche. The boom echoed on and on and on.
A pall of dust shrouded the sky. It was dim, but not dark; twilight, but not day. Now and again lightning stabbed through the cloudy haze, unseen except as a ghostly glimmer, quickly gone. Once the noise of the avalanche faded, they heard no answering thunder. A monstrous orange-red glow rose along one horizon. Maybe it heralded the rising sun, but if so it was no sun she ever wanted to see.
“Is it day or night?” asked Anna.
No one answered her. Berthold wept with anger and shame, and his companion Jonas tried in vain to comfort him. The Kerayit and Quman cowered, covering their eyes and muttering prayers, each in their own language. Heribert wheezed, struggling to breathe. Even Blessing stood in shocked silence.
Something very bad had happened, just as Blessing had predicted.
As they stared, a light rain began to fall, hissing where it struck ground. It wasn’t rain at all but hot ash, so fine that it drizzled like rain only to burn and sizzle where it touched the earth. The ashy rain darkened the sky until that orange-red glow faded and Anna could no longer see the snowy peaks beyond. Dirt spit on her from the roof of the overhang. A huge weight fell right on top of them. The impact shuddered through the hill, and the overhang crumbled in on itself as a second crash sent a shower of fine dirt and clods of earth and rocks spilling over them.
Anna grabbed Blessing’s wrist and yanked her out into the ash fall. They ran, stumbling through loose dirt, sliding as the ground gave way underneath, coughing as ash burned their lungs. Only when they came to rest on ground that didn’t shiver beneath their feet did they turn. They had sheltered beneath a mound atop which stood a stone crown, and both hill and stones had collapsed. Two of the great menhirs leaned crazily, not yet fallen. The others had crashed down. One had smashed onto the slope just above the overhang, causing it to give way.
“Must … get … out … of … the … rain,” gasped Berthold.
“Where’s Brother Heribert?” Blessing wrenched her arm free from Anna’s grasp and floundered up through slippery dirt. “Brother Heribert! Brother Heribert!”
She found an arm sticking out of dark earth. The rest of him was buried.
Sliding and cursing, they struggled up along the unstable ground and with their hands dug him out and dragged him to firm ground. He was limp. He had already stopped breathing. The earth had choked him. Blessing howled in rage.
