“What a forsaken place,” Hettie muttered, staring up at the cliffs and not down at the teeming life in the tide pools. She brushed hair back from her face. Her expression was pained and wincing as she stared up the steep incline of the cliff. The water was down to their ankles now.
“What a mysterious place,” Paedrin said. “The environment is harsh and punishing, but look at the forms of life around us. I had no idea things could survive in such a place.”
She glanced down at the tide pools, looked at him with an arched eyebrow and then shook her head as if he were hopeless.
They reached the wall of the cliff, all jutting angles and sheets of dark rock. An inlet lay before them, where the sea had carved away huge portions of stone. Trickling waterfalls plunged into the sandy edge. There was a large flat rock near the base of the stairs—during high tide it would have provided an easier way to approach. The mist hung above them, about twenty paces, veiling the upper heights.
“Let me see if I can locate the temple first,” he said. “You start climbing.”
She nodded and Paedrin took a big gulp of air, rising despite the heaviness of his sodden clothes. He used the edge of the wall to pull himself faster up, gliding effortlessly up the face. The Vaettir would have no trouble ascending to such a place. The steps were undoubtedly there for others to use.
Paedrin entered the thick mist of the fog, which blinded him as he ascended. The rock face was steep, ascending at a gradual slope the higher it went, providing ample footholds and crevices to use. An idea began to blossom in his mind. He emerged above the sheet of fog higher up, which gradually tapered off, revealing the hulking outlines of an enormous temple structure. The Bhikhu temple in Kenatos was just a sprig compared to this. He was awed by the ancient stones, the curving rooftops and multiple levels of towers and parapets. It had been built over a great number of years, perhaps even centuries. The entire top of the rocky cliff was covered in structures, made of the same stone as the cliff itself, as if it had been painstakingly carved from the rock into the formation of towers and crenellations. Enormous statuary adorned it—bull heads and tigers and serpents and some creatures he could not identify. There was a giant wooden door at the top of the stairs, bound with rusty iron that gleamed red in the light.
The temple faced him majestically, more ancient than the Arch-Rike’s palace. Yet as he stared at it, it did resemble the structure of the palace in Kenatos slightly. The design was reminiscent of it. There were no sentries posted on the walls, no sounds emanating from within. He did notice a shelf of flat rock without any structures on it near the cliff’s edge partway around the temple. The blossoming idea went further. If he could draw attention by his approach and let Hettie climb the walls from behind, it would increase the chances of their success.
Paedrin let out his breath and sank through the mist quickly. His stomach thrilled with the sensation and he emerged beneath the cloud, finding Hettie climbing the steps barefoot, her boots tied to her pack.
He dropped down to her level and flattened himself against the cliff, grabbing handholds and footholds to steady himself. “I have an idea,” he said.
“What is it?” she grumbled, wincing at the effort of the climb.
“Over that way, the cliff curves and emerges to a flat shelf at the base of the temple walls. It would be a good place to conceal yourself until dark. I will approach the main doors and seek admittance. My thinking is to draw attention to myself at the front of the temple tonight, drawing their gaze away from where they are concealing the sword. You climb the walls after dark and begin your search. I will distract them as long as I can.”
“Draw attention to yourself? You mean insult them.”
“It comes naturally to me.”
“How do you plan on distracting them then? Parading the front tower in your smallclothes?”
Paedrin smiled. “I plan to challenge Cruw Reon directly for authority. Before I face him, he has the right to choose a champion to face me first. It is a Bhikhu custom. If I win, I earn the right to combat for authority. If I lose, it won’t really matter anyway. You get the sword. When you do, whistle loudly if we should flee. I will come to you. If not, bring it to me and I will defeat him.”
Hettie nodded. “So which way do I climb?”
He inhaled and started to rise again, crawling like a spider up the sheer face of the cliff. “The handholds are better over this way. Come on.”
She followed, leaving the safety of the stone steps carved into the cliff. Paedrin searched ahead, looking for the best handholds and sturdiest places. It was an arduous climb and he could see the pinched look on Hettie’s face as she struggled up the slope. The rocks cut at her fingers and feet, but she did not hiss or complain. They reached the veil of fog and the way became murky.
“What a mysterious place,” Paedrin said. “The environment is harsh and punishing, but look at the forms of life around us. I had no idea things could survive in such a place.”
She glanced down at the tide pools, looked at him with an arched eyebrow and then shook her head as if he were hopeless.
They reached the wall of the cliff, all jutting angles and sheets of dark rock. An inlet lay before them, where the sea had carved away huge portions of stone. Trickling waterfalls plunged into the sandy edge. There was a large flat rock near the base of the stairs—during high tide it would have provided an easier way to approach. The mist hung above them, about twenty paces, veiling the upper heights.
“Let me see if I can locate the temple first,” he said. “You start climbing.”
She nodded and Paedrin took a big gulp of air, rising despite the heaviness of his sodden clothes. He used the edge of the wall to pull himself faster up, gliding effortlessly up the face. The Vaettir would have no trouble ascending to such a place. The steps were undoubtedly there for others to use.
Paedrin entered the thick mist of the fog, which blinded him as he ascended. The rock face was steep, ascending at a gradual slope the higher it went, providing ample footholds and crevices to use. An idea began to blossom in his mind. He emerged above the sheet of fog higher up, which gradually tapered off, revealing the hulking outlines of an enormous temple structure. The Bhikhu temple in Kenatos was just a sprig compared to this. He was awed by the ancient stones, the curving rooftops and multiple levels of towers and parapets. It had been built over a great number of years, perhaps even centuries. The entire top of the rocky cliff was covered in structures, made of the same stone as the cliff itself, as if it had been painstakingly carved from the rock into the formation of towers and crenellations. Enormous statuary adorned it—bull heads and tigers and serpents and some creatures he could not identify. There was a giant wooden door at the top of the stairs, bound with rusty iron that gleamed red in the light.
The temple faced him majestically, more ancient than the Arch-Rike’s palace. Yet as he stared at it, it did resemble the structure of the palace in Kenatos slightly. The design was reminiscent of it. There were no sentries posted on the walls, no sounds emanating from within. He did notice a shelf of flat rock without any structures on it near the cliff’s edge partway around the temple. The blossoming idea went further. If he could draw attention by his approach and let Hettie climb the walls from behind, it would increase the chances of their success.
Paedrin let out his breath and sank through the mist quickly. His stomach thrilled with the sensation and he emerged beneath the cloud, finding Hettie climbing the steps barefoot, her boots tied to her pack.
He dropped down to her level and flattened himself against the cliff, grabbing handholds and footholds to steady himself. “I have an idea,” he said.
“What is it?” she grumbled, wincing at the effort of the climb.
“Over that way, the cliff curves and emerges to a flat shelf at the base of the temple walls. It would be a good place to conceal yourself until dark. I will approach the main doors and seek admittance. My thinking is to draw attention to myself at the front of the temple tonight, drawing their gaze away from where they are concealing the sword. You climb the walls after dark and begin your search. I will distract them as long as I can.”
“Draw attention to yourself? You mean insult them.”
“It comes naturally to me.”
“How do you plan on distracting them then? Parading the front tower in your smallclothes?”
Paedrin smiled. “I plan to challenge Cruw Reon directly for authority. Before I face him, he has the right to choose a champion to face me first. It is a Bhikhu custom. If I win, I earn the right to combat for authority. If I lose, it won’t really matter anyway. You get the sword. When you do, whistle loudly if we should flee. I will come to you. If not, bring it to me and I will defeat him.”
Hettie nodded. “So which way do I climb?”
He inhaled and started to rise again, crawling like a spider up the sheer face of the cliff. “The handholds are better over this way. Come on.”
She followed, leaving the safety of the stone steps carved into the cliff. Paedrin searched ahead, looking for the best handholds and sturdiest places. It was an arduous climb and he could see the pinched look on Hettie’s face as she struggled up the slope. The rocks cut at her fingers and feet, but she did not hiss or complain. They reached the veil of fog and the way became murky.
