Warrior of the Wild(26)

I shimmy down from the tree. Slowly at first, I step toward the seam. When nothing bad happens, I pick up my pace, no more than a quick walk.

But then I jog because the god is away, and I don’t know how much time I have. And I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe these are the steps I must take to return home.

A jolt runs through me, and in the next instant, I’m falling backward. I don’t catch myself in time, my backside connecting with the uneven ground.

What the devil?

I rise, look around me. There’s nothing in sight. I look down. I felt as though I’d been struck. But all over. Like I ran into a wall.

The opening in the mountain is still a good ten feet in front of me.

I try approaching it again.

But after two steps, I’m brought to a crushing halt once more.

I raise my hands, hesitantly reach out in front of me with my fingers. I can’t feel anything tangible against my skin, and yet, I can’t move forward any more. It’s as if my wrists are tied to the end of a rope that is pulled taut. They can’t cross the invisible barrier.

The god has powerful defenses at work. Defenses that remain even when he is not present.

I back up just a couple of steps, select a rock from the ground, and hurl it toward the opening.

But unlike me, it meets no resistance. It sails right through the opening and lands with a soft clack.

Is it just me, then, that cannot enter?

I slide my ax from my back and hold it up to where that barrier lies. But it’s like pressing it up against a solid wall. It won’t break through the air.

My next thought is that perhaps no weapon can enter the god’s lair. Maybe that is why I cannot enter. I drop my ax on the ground behind me and try to press against the barrier with my hands once more.

No such luck.

I return my ax to my back before carefully examining the mountain. Small grasses and trees grow along it. Otherwise, there is nothing but rock and ore—exactly what one would expect on a mountain. Inside the gap, now that I’m so much closer than I was before, I can see firewood stacked along the dark edges of the interior. Large animal skins line the floor, offering a soft carpet to walk on.

Luxury is exactly what I’d expect to see in the home of a god.

“What are you doing?”

I freeze in place.

I’ve heard that voice before. That deep rumble that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise.

I turn.

Peruxolo has returned, his hood now covering his head. He is some distance from me, perhaps fifteen feet or so, and I thank the goddess for that distance. If he were any closer, I might lose my footing for the fear coursing through my veins.

“I asked you a question,” he says. “You’d better answer before I lose my patience.”

My mouth has grown dry, but I somehow force my lips to open. “I came to see you.”

“That was foolish.”

This could be the end of my life right here. One flick of his wrist, and I’m dead. I cannot remain standing here as this scared girl. I need to be more. I need to think quickly. I need to be brave and wise.

Be a warrior.

“The way I see it,” I begin, “my days are numbered as it is. The wild is no friend to mortals, and I figured my chances were better with you.”

That sends his hood cocking to one side. “You came all the way here on your own? Which village are you from?”

I cannot give up the name of my village. What if he decides to take out my foolishness on all of Seravin? On my sisters?

“I have no village. Not anymore,” I say. “They cast me out after I failed my trial.”

“You were banished.” He laughs, short and deep. “You overestimated yourself greatly. You thought you could join the warriors, be the only female among their ranks. Yes, I can see it now.” He tips his head back, and I can spot closed eyelids, as though he’s watching my fate pool behind his eyes.

“But you’re alive. Alive for five whole days on your own, and now you seek me out. Why?” he asks.

“The ziken grow hungry. I know I cannot evade them forever. You could provide me with safety.”

“I could,” he drawls. “The question remains, what is it you could provide me with?”

The way he says it makes me feel dirty, and I take a step back, right up against that barrier.

Silence stretches between us, and I manage to turn myself so I have open air behind me, not that invisible barrier and the seam in the mountain.

At last, he lets out a lazy sigh. “No ideas? I’ve none, either. There’s nothing you could do to serve me. I want nothing from you. Your journey was wasted.”

I swallow, dare a step backward. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Only if you return here. Now go!” The last word comes out so loudly, I jump a good foot in the air. Then I’m backtracking, keeping my eyes on the god.

Movement comes out of the corner of my eye, and Peruxolo and I both turn our heads.

Rocks cascade down from the mountain, rolling, tumbling, hurtling toward the ground. I watch for a moment, confused by the scene, until I realize this is the perfect distraction I need.

I take quick steps backward, watching the god, watching the danger in front of me.

After a time, he turns away from the rockslide. The rocks reach the ground, perhaps a hundred yards away from his home—no damage done there. Of course not. Perhaps he concentrated so carefully on the slide to use his power to control it.