Valkeryn 2: The Dark Lands Read Free Page B

and dragged their track down to the valley in a heap of raw earth, boulders and crushed trees. Arn looked back the way they had come, then over the edge, and then again in the distance along the cliff face – it was near vertical, broken only by some dark holes that could have been caves, or just deep fissures.
    Further on, their path resumed, but it was well over a hundred feet away. Too far to leap, too steep to clamber across, and not a single handhold on the scarred granite.
    The raised slope they had chosen to cross looked to be about five thousand feet high, with a fairly easy slope on the Valkeryn side of their climb. But this side dropped steeply, was rugged, and Arn was sure from a greater distance it would resemble a giant tooth curving up and in towards the Dark Lands. In fact the entire cliff line had sharp peaks of similar shape, a gigantic set of open jaws waiting to swallow anything mad enough to enter.
    Arn marveled at the forces that had created the barrier. A gigantic crustal movement had occurred when tectonic plates had ground up against one another. One part of their world had dropped, while a geological behemoth had been forced up elsewhere.
    Our world? Arn wondered at the wisdom of the thought. Compared to the mountainous cliffs, he and Grimson were just two biological specks. He half smiled. I am as old as you, Brother Mountain. Now, let me pass.
    Arn leaned out again and felt a steaming humidity rise up past him, the first he had really felt in this strange world. To date the climate had been dry and benign. The mountain range was acting as a partition, separating one land from the next. He had crossed from a desert to a forest, and now was trying to enter a jungle.
    ‘Can’t go back, can’t get across, and too high to jump.’ Arn exhaled in a silent whistle.
    ‘I can pray to Odin.’
    Arn looked at the youth and smiled. ‘Sure, why not… everything helps.’
    Grimson nodded and shut his eyes, his lips moving silently.
    Arn watched the youth for a few seconds. Praying might be all they had left, he mused. He guessed that the Panterran would soon be following them. The attackers of the Valkeryn kingdom, and their monstrous allies the Lygon, were ruthless, and the thought of falling into their hands again, and allowing them to capture the young Wolfen, made him shudder. It would be better to die trying than risk going back.
    Arn leaned out from the rock face, and then looked up, moving his line of sight slowly back the way he had come.
    ‘Maaaybe.’
    Arn’s voice made Grimson stop his praying and open his eyes. Arn tapped his shoulder. ‘Back up about fifty paces.’
    The youth did as he was instructed, and soon they both stood below a series of craggy bulges and fissures. Arn pointed at the scarred rocks ahead, working his finger up to a point above them. ‘The rockslide started around our level. But above it, the mountain is still wearing its original face. I think if we can climb straight up about fifty feet, err…’ Arn did a quick translation into the Wolfen numbering system. ‘… about twenty longs, we can edge across, and then drop back down onto the path.’
    Grimson made a fist. ‘You see. I knew it there’d be a way across. Odin always looks after the faithful.’
    Arn smiled at the youth’s confidence. ‘K eep praying, Grim. The hard part is just about to begin.’
    Arn turned back to the rock face, mentally mapping his route. He knew the climb would be impossible for the small Wolfen, as the scarce crevices, cracks and fissures in the stone they would use as toe and handholds were more than his body length apart. Arn was going to have to bear his weight – not impossible, as long as the Wolfen hung on tight and remained immobile.
    ‘Okay, gonna have to carry you.’
    ‘By Odin you will not, Man-Kind. I will climb myself.’ Grimson backed up a step, his brow furrowed with indignity.
    ‘I will carry you, otherwise we won’t make it, and the Panterran will catch us.