24

The missing had posts instead of graves.

Thousands of wooden stakes climbed the mountainside. Each bore a carved name. Some still held ribbons, beads, or scraps of cloth. Others stood bare, twisted by years of wind.

The road passed between them.

“Families came here when someone disappeared in the snow,” Beren said. “They planted a post and waited for the thaw.”

Isolde read names as they climbed. There were children, merchants, soldiers, and guides. In recent years, entire rows bore the same date.

“The rows have repeated dates,” Alcen said.

“Transfers from West-9,” Beren replied.

Falling snow erased the cart’s tracks. Kaoran rode inside, wrapped in blankets. They had obtained a small horse in the last village. The healer from the House had examined him before they left. His shoulder remained immobilized. One rib shifted when he coughed.

Isolde walked beside the wheel.

“How’s your breathing?”

“It requires constant dedication.”

“Depth.”

Kaoran inhaled slowly.

“Enough.”

“Pain.”

“Present.”

“Has it increased since the last stop?”

“Yes. When I cough.”

Isolde stopped clearing snow from the axle.

“The shelter is before the climb. They’ll check whether you can go on there.”

Kaoran looked at the tarp that barely sheltered him from the wind.

“Beren knows both paths now.”

“He made me repeat them three times,” Beren said from the horse’s head.

“He still confuses a cave with a prayer house.”

“Both had a closed door.”

Isolde checked the blankets without touching the bandage. Kaoran let her. When he met her eyes, he raised one finger.

“I’ll warn you before I get down.”

She returned to the wheel.

Alcen walked ahead with Tavra. The rope was still around his waist. No one held the other end. He could have fled among the posts, though he kept to the road.

His daughter was waiting above.

The first bell rang at noon.

A low note descended from the pass. Then a second came from the northern slope.

Tavra stopped.

“Avalanche warning.”

Alcen shook his head.

“The wind is from the south. The northern cornice is holding.”

The third bell rang from below.

Isolde looked at the road they had traveled.

Three riders occupied the entrance to the valley. They wore white cloaks.

“They’ve cut off our retreat,” she said.

Rheskan flew over the ridge. He showed her a dozen men hidden among the posts and four plates buried beneath the snow. Two more waited at the upper exit.

The trap covered the entire pass.

Kaoran lifted the edge of the tarp.

“I’m getting down. If the horses block the road, this leaves me at their height.”

Isolde saw the open space between the posts. She offered her right arm and waited for him to set his feet on the ground.

“As far as the shelter. Beren will bring the cart.”

Kaoran nodded. He stayed beside the wheel as they searched for a way in.

Alcen pointed to a stone house a hundred paces away.

“The guides’ shelter. It has a passage to the caves beneath the posts.”

“Does Oren know the entrance?” Beren asked.

“Yes.”

“Then we go there,” Isolde said.

Rheskan descended another handspan. The pressure from the plates forced him to climb again. He showed her an image of snow opening beneath his claws.

“Stay outside the arc,” Isolde said.

He answered with a view of the cornice. Blue cables ran inside the ice.

“Cevran can trigger an avalanche.”

The snow in front of them burst apart.

Two soldiers emerged from a hollow. They threw a net over the horse. The animal fell onto its side. Beren cut a rope before the lead weights closed around its legs.

Isolde pushed the cart toward a broad post. A blue arrow pierced the tarp.

Kaoran pulled Beren out of the line of fire.

Tavra fired her crossbow. The first soldier fell with a wounded leg. The second fled among the names.

“To the shelter!” Isolde shouted.

Beren freed the horse. Alcen ran toward the house. Tavra covered his back.

Isolde raised the short spear and advanced beside the cart. She used the wood as a shield until she reached the wall. Kaoran went in under his own power.

The door closed behind them.

There was a family inside.

A man protected a woman and two girls with a kitchen knife. The younger girl was perhaps five. The older one had a dirty bandage around her head.

“We’re travelers,” Beren said.

“Travelers don’t bring a dragon,” the man replied.

“The dragon came by his own choice,” Isolde said.

The woman saw Beren’s scar.

“West-9.”

“Yes.”

“My brother didn’t get out.”

Beren lowered his weapon.

“Name?”

“Tarem Elda.”

Beren closed his eyes.

“He died during the second opening. He saved four people from a chamber.”

The woman put a hand to her mouth.

The man lowered the knife.

“My name is Darel. She’s Enya. The girls are Luma and Teri.”

Kaoran sat against the wall.

“Why are you still here?”

Darel looked at the door.

“The commission’s men came yesterday. They made us light the shelter. They said a crew would pass through today.”

“You were bait,” Tavra said.

Enya hugged the little girl.

“They have six people at the upper post. A woman named Sera and an old man with books.”

“Oren,” Beren said.

Alcen came closer.

“Did you see my daughter?”

“Black hair, copper ring.”

“Yes.”

The strength left Alcen’s legs. Tavra caught him before he fell.

Isolde walked through the shelter. There was a fireplace, two rooms, and an inner door blocked with boards. The passage to the caves lay behind it.

Kaoran examined the floor.

“They moved these benches this morning.”

Isolde lifted one.

A blue plate lay beneath it.

The runes lit on contact with the air.

“Away from the center!” she shouted.

The hearth fire went out.

A net dropped from the roof, sealing the main door. At the top of the pass, a fourth bell rang.

Cevran’s voice came down the chimney.

“Hand over the plate and the accounts. The people in the shelter will be allowed to leave.”

Isolde looked at the family.

The trap had just closed.

Cevran repeated his offer.

“You have five minutes.”

Isolde knelt beside the plate. The runes drew heat from the room and gathered it beneath the metal. Frost covered the edge. Enya wrapped the girls in a blanket.

“Alcen,” Isolde said. “How do we deactivate it?”

“From the core outside.”

“How do we break it?”

“With more pressure than it can return.”

“How much?”

“The House had a smaller plate. This one will shut down the fire in the entire shelter.”

Kaoran touched the wall beside the fireplace.

“The heat is still inside the stones.”

“The plate has only taken the surface,” Isolde said.

“You can use the chimney.”

“If I charge it, Cevran will know we’re still here.”

“He already knows.”

Isolde asked Darel to open the damper. Cevran’s voice grew clearer.

“Four minutes.”

She put both arms inside the fireplace. The flue held years of soot and heat. She reached for the deep stones, beyond the plate’s immediate range. The fire answered like a seam underground.

She drew it slowly.

The plate pulled from the floor. Heat crossed the room and entered the runes. Isolde held the current. Her fingers hurt, then her elbows. Frost covered her hair.

Kaoran set a bucket of snow beside the metal.

“Now.”

Isolde released the gathered heat all at once.

The runes burned white.

Kaoran tipped out the snow.

The plate contracted with a snap. A crack crossed its center. Pressure escaped through it, sending steam to the ceiling.

Isolde fell into a sitting position. Her hands were numb.

The hearth fire returned.

The little girl came over and laid a blanket around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Isolde said.

“Mom says you’re freezing.”

“Your mother’s right.”

Cevran struck the door from outside.

“Three minutes.”

Darel tore the boards from the passage. Beyond them lay a narrow corridor supported by old beams.

“It comes out in the cave of names,” he said. “The upper post is above it.”

Alcen took the copper plate from Isolde’s bag.

Beren grabbed his arm.

“Leave it.”

“The box locates the metal. If we take it through the tunnel, they’ll block the exit.”

“What are you proposing?”

“I’ll go out the door.”

Tavra tightened the rope at his waist.

“You’ve already sold out one house.”

“Sera is still up there because of me.”

“She’s also alive because you’re useful,” Isolde said.

Alcen held out his wrist.

“Tie my hands. When the box moves away, you enter the passage.”

“Cevran could kill you after taking the key.”

“He’ll wait until he’s checked the shelters.”

Isolde looked at the plate. Without it, they would lose their way of putting the stations in order. They still had three exact drawings, though the metal proved the physical link with the cores.

“You have two minutes to lead them toward the lower road,” she said.

Tavra tied his hands in front of him.

Alcen tucked the plate under his shirt. Kaoran gave him a packet filled with blank sheets and an incomplete copy of the accounts.

“Make sure he sees enough,” he said.

Alcen kissed the copper ring on his hand.

“Get my daughter out.”

Isolde cut the net over the door from inside. Alcen went out with his arms raised.

“I have the key!” he shouted.

The soldiers surrounded him. The signal box turned toward him.

Cevran appeared among the posts.

“Where’s the woman?”

“Wounded. The plate broke.”

“The accounts?”

Alcen showed him the packet.

Cevran punched him in the stomach. Alcen fell to his knees.

“Walk.”

The box moved toward the lower entrance.

Isolde waited until its hum was gone.

“Now.”

Darel entered the passage first. Enya carried Teri. Beren carried Luma, whose vision was poor from the blow to her head. Tavra had the bags. Kaoran walked behind the family. Isolde brought up the rear.

The tunnel climbed beneath the mountain. The air smelled of damp wood. Posts pierced the ceiling like roots. Each had a little bell inside the cave.

“The guides listened to the movement of the snow here,” Darel explained. “When a cornice gave way, the tilting posts rang the bells.”

Several bells vibrated at once.

“Avalanche?” Beren asked.

Darel touched the posts.

“Men walking above us.”

The cave ended beneath a slab. Darel pushed. The stone rose inside a small shrine full of tablets. Beyond it stood the upper post.