Benjin entered the cabin. "Chase, Strom, and Osbourne are waiting in the galley. I think we all need to sit down and plan out our next moves. We're not out of danger yet."
"Let's go."
The heat of the galley was a welcome change from the frigid air on deck. Catrin sat next to Chase and made eye contact with Strom and Osbourne, but no one spoke a word as they were faced with fears they could no longer deny. Catrin wondered if her father and uncle were alive, or if Strom and Osbourne had family left to go home to. Fear knotted her stomach, and she began to sweat.
Benjin must have sensed the mood as he entered the galley. "Whether good or bad, the time has come to get the answers to the questions we've had. Though I hope we can all be reunited with our loved ones, we must prepare for the possibility that we may have suffered losses as well." No one else spoke. A pall of sadness hung in the air. "Do not mourn what might not be lost. Be strong for a short time more, and then we'll know. Get your packs ready. Kenward has given me coin and some supplies in case we have need."
As if summoned, Kenward entered. "Sorry I'm late. We're not far from what looks to be the new northern harbor. There're plenty of lights. We can come in, quietly, at the very last dock and probably not be seen, but it's doubtful. Most likely they'll know you're coming. We can go farther east, but not under darkness. The reefs are simply too dangerous to approach after dark."
"What do you think?" Catrin asked everyone gathered.
"This is our homeland," Chase said. "I say we land tonight at the new harbor."
"We need to be careful," Benjin said.
"I agree with Chase," Strom said. "I say we land now."
"Me too," Osbourne said, and everyone turned to Catrin, waiting for her vote.
"We land now," she said.
"Gather your things," Kenward said with an enthusiastic smile. "You will be home soon."
Only a few lights remained as the Slippery Eel glided into the harbor. Catrin had already bade farewell to Kenward, Fasha, Nora, Brother Vaughn, and the rest of the crew, and already she missed them. Three fishermen watched the Eel with fear and suspicion as she glided into a slip. The crew scrambled to secure the ship and drop the gangplank.
Tears filled Catrin's eyes as she waved a final farewell; then she walked down the plank. Not liking the way the narrow walkways along the docks moved as she walked, she held her breath until, once again, she placed her feet on the firm soil of the Godfist. Ahead, the three fishermen stood at a long table cleaning fish by torchlight. Even in the darkness, seabirds gathered around to fight over the scraps. The men stopped and watched as Benjin, Catrin, Chase, Strom, Osbourne, and Prios walked by. All three had the look of the Greatland about them, and none chose to speak.
"Good evening," Catrin said as she passed. The men just stared back, seemingly frozen in fear. "How do we get up there?" she asked, pointing to the lights that still illuminated the lift. One of the men pointed to a wide path that led to the lift, and she supposed she would just have to find out when she got there. Her heart raced at the sight of shadowy forms moving at the base of the lift and voices that floated from the shadows.
When they reached the torchlight, the area was clear, and a man was extinguishing the remaining torches. The other people were packed into one of the large wooden boxes that were attached to massive lift ropes. Like oversized crates, the lift boxes could transport people and goods to the tops of the steep cliffs.
"Wait," Benjin said as the man approached the last torch. "We need to get to the top."
"Not tonight you won't," the man said. "This's the last trip up for the day, and we're full up. You'll have to come back in the morning."
"Who goes there?" a voice called from inside the box, and the door flew open. Catrin recognized Cattleman Gerard before he managed to squeeze out of the crowded box. "Benjin? Is that really you?"
"Greetings, Gerard, it's good to see a familiar face," Benjin said. "Where's Wendel?"
"He's gone south of the Wall for the peace treaty. Won't be back for days."
"How about Jensen?"
"He's in Lowerton."
"Where?" Chase asked.
"Ah, yes. Sorry," Gerard said. "I forgot. Lowerton is the new settlement, south of here but north of the Wall." He turned back to the people in the box. "Hey! You all get out of there. These people need to get up top right now. Hurry up!"
A debate raged briefly within the box; then Catrin heard someone say her name. A moment later, people poured out. Watching Catrin and her companions as they boarded the now empty crate, no one said a word. Cattleman Gerard entered the giant crate, which could easily hold forty people, and closed the door behind himself. Catrin watched through the cracks as one of the men yanked on a long rope that hung down from above. Slowly, the crate began to rise into the air, swaying gently at first, but sudden movements often sent it swinging into the timber framework, which groaned in response. Catrin and the others held on tightly to loops of rope that hung on the walls at regular intervals.
A platform came into view, and the crate stopped above it, making them step down as they disembarked, but Catrin didn't care; she was another step closer to her father. The others could go to Lowerton and search for their families, but not her. She was heading south. "What is the Wall you mentioned?" she asked.
"Edling's Wall is what they call it," Gerard said, and already Catrin didn't like it. "They built it after we fled the cold caves. They hit us while we were vulnerable and drove us as far north as they could, and since then, they've held us here. They've been building the Wall to divide north from south ever since. But now there are talks of peace. Your father's gone to the Masterhouse to end the fighting."
Determined, Catrin grabbed a nearby torch and began marching south. The others scrambled to catch up.
"Have you seen my mother or Miss Mariss?" she heard Strom ask, and she slowed a bit so she could hear the answer.
"They're in Lowerton, 'long with Jensen and Osbourne's parents. They've had no end of worry over you, and it'll be an honor to escort you to them."
Catrin nodded, her heart lightened to know no one else stood to lose a parent. Quickening her step, she challenged the rest to keep up.
Chase reached her side and cast her a sidelong glance. "You're going to the Masterhouse."
"I can't risk losing him," Catrin said. "I have to go."
"I'm going with you," Chase said as he grabbed her by the arm, making her stop.
"I coming too," Strom said. Benjin crossed his arms over his chest, and Osbourne did the same.
"I can't protect all of you. I can only protect myself. I must go alone."
"No," Benjin said. His stance and that of the others told Catrin that none of them would back down, and she relented. Somehow, she would have to keep them all safe.
Gerard led them along a well-trodden roadway, and after a series of sweeping bends, they gained the shelter of the valley. Ahead waited a bizarre town. "Welcome to Upperton," Gerard said.
Along the dirt roadway stood cylindrical, wooden buildings, and Catrin gasped. The others turned as she stopped, her hands covering her mouth. There stood what remained of the mighty greatoaks, and Catrin was filled with gratitude that they would live on as shelter from those in need. It seemed a fitting tribute. "Why did you use the greatoaks?"
"It was cold," Gerard said. "We needed housing. Your dad suggested we use the fallen greatoaks. It was a lot of work getting them here, but we used the ships we had to tow them to the lift. Took all our ingenuity to get them up here, but a couple of Greatlanders came up with a way to do it. Heck, they dragged a bunch of 'em to Lowerton as well."
Men and women gathered in the streets despite the cold, and Catrin guessed news of their coming had preceded them. No one spoke as she and her companions walked into town. Just as Catrin could make out faces of the townspeople, a cold wind gusted, bringing with it the foul smell. Everyone watched in horrified amazement as snow began to fall, for it was no ordinary snow. As if dipped in blood, each walnut-sized flake was a deep crimson.