Suddenly the mist began to pulse with light. Bradok threw his hands over his eyes but not before his vision swam with purple dots. When it cleared, all the eyes in the cavern were on him. From the top of the open device, another illusion sprang forth.
It was a tall, slender woman that might be the image of a human, but Bradok couldn’t really tell. She wore a fitted breastplate and an ornate helmet with a plume. The rest of her body was obscured by a long cloak. The cloak and the woman’s inky black hair moved and flowed in a wind that Bradok could not feel. In her right hand, she carried a short spear, and a white bandage covered her eyes.
“It’s a seer,” Isirah whispered in her wizened voice.
“A what?” Much asked with trepidation.
“A seer,” Isirah said louder. “They’re from the old stories, blind guides blessed with the gift of second sight.”
As if on cue, the seer raised her spear and pointed off into the darkness.
“I think Rose is right,” Bradok said, finding his voice at last. “We have more than just marks to follow; now we have a guide.”
“Hear, hear,” Rose said, sticking her tongue out at Chisul. “I guess I wasn’t so wrong after all.”
Chisul stared daggers at her but said nothing.
“Enough of this small talk,” Much said, standing up and rubbing his arm while staring worriedly at the female spirit-image that was slowly dissipating. “We’ve got a direction now, so let’s get the supplies unloaded and be about our business.”
Bradok, Much, Chisul, and the other men who weren’t cutting up the ship for firewood all formed a line and quickly emptied the ship of her cache of supplies. Silas had thought of everything but a rudder, it seemed. There were spare cloaks and water bags, wrapped oilcloth bundles of rations, two long poles with mountings for the glowlamps, a keg of long knives, and a keg of assorted tools.
By the time they were through hauling everything out, Rose and Tal had already begun handing out the gear. Kellik made sure each dwarf was armed with a knife. Perin was busy showing Hemmish and his brother Rijul how a glowlamp on a pole would attract fish when held over the river.
Several hours and a dozen fish later, Bradok lay on the sand, feeling better about his prospects than he had in days. The survivors of Ironroot were no longer a ragamuffin band of strangers; they had pulled together, and their hopes and spirits were high. He still wasn’t a believer, but it looked as though Reorx was looking out for them. Between the gear Silas left them and the strange compass, they should be able to make their way to safety.
The weariness of the past few hours coupled with his full belly pushed Bradok toward sleep. He lay on the sand, rolled in his thick cloak. Sleep should have come easily, but it kept eluding him. With a moment to reflect on everything that had transpired, the reality of his situation began to sink in.
Ironroot was truly gone.
His life as a jeweler and councilman was gone. His father and mother were both dead. The future lay before him like a vast, unmarked plain. It seemed like a whole world of opportunities stood before him, just waiting for him to decide which path to take. Just choose the right path … choose … the word kept echoing in his mind as he finally drifted off to sleep.
When Bradok awoke, the cheery orange light of the fire had died, leaving only the pale blue light of the lamps illuminating the cavern. In their unwavering glow, the cavern seemed somehow sinister, like an evil version of itself. He pushed such thoughts from his mind and rose carefully, so as not to wake anyone.
A few embers glowed among the coals of the fire, inviting him to feed them with fresh wood, which he did. In a few moments, he had a cheery little blaze going.
“That’s much better,” Rose said, materializing out of the semidarkness on the far side of the fire. “The glowlamps may burn for years without fuel, but their light has always made me feel as if a shadow was hanging over me.”
Bradok chuckled quietly. “I was thinking the same thing,” he admitted.
“Still,” she added, turning to look at one of the lamps hanging on the end of a pole that had been thrust into the sand, “I suppose we’d better get used to them. I suspect we have a long walk ahead of us.”
“I hope it isn’t too long,” he said, poking the fire with a stick. “We’ve only got food for a few days.”
“Then we’d better get moving soon,” Rose said.
He nodded, looking around at the still, sleeping forms. Many of the dwarves who had escaped Ironroot by boat were old, well past their prime, and there were close to a dozen children.
“And then there’s Lyra,” Bradok whispered to himself more than to Rose.
But Rose heard and, turning to look at the figure of the sleeping pregnant woman, nodded.
“She’s tougher than she looks,” she said. “She won’t hold us back.”
Bradok shrugged. Some of the others were beginning to wake. “But what do we do if she has her baby?” he asked quietly.
“Let Tal worry about that,” Rose said, nodding at her still-sleeping brother with a smile. “He’s good under pressure.”
“You both have the same surname …?” Bradok said, changing the subject, but letting the sentence hang more like a question.
When Rose smiled, as she did at that moment, it struck Bradok how attractive she was. She didn’t have the flawless lines and elegant features of some city girls Bradok had courted, but rather a more natural, earthy beauty, like deep mountain jade.
“I’m not married,” she said, lowering her voice too, the firelight burnishing a line across the hair that fell into her eyes. “Not to Tal or his brother … or anyone.”
If Bradok had just been told that the Mountain King wanted him to design his crown, he wouldn’t have been more pleased. The knowledge that Rose had a brother and not a husband made him feel like a schoolboy in love-giddy and light-headed.
If Rose noticed anything amiss, she gave no sign. Instead she pointed past the lamplight, where the image of the seer had pointed.
“Shouldn’t we get going?” she asked.
Bradok took out the compass and, holding it firmly, nodded.
“Then, for Reorx’s sake, let’s go,” Kellik said impatiently, striding into the firelight. He’d clearly overheard much of their conversation, and was shaking his head disapprovingly. “All the fish got et last night, so all we got are cold rations,” he added. “We ought to put a few miles under our feet before breakfast.”
Bradok would have rather eaten first, but Kellik was probably right. He had already passed by, leading his sons down to the river’s edge to fill their waterskins. Rose glanced over at Bradok and smiled, amused by the smith. Bradok shrugged.
“All right, walk first,” he said with a sigh. “Eat later. Everyone, wake up! Let’s go!”
Before the echo of his words had faded away, however, Chisul stood up and called out the same orders in a louder voice.
“All right everyone, we need to get moving,” Chisul said. “We don’t know how far we have to go, so we’d better get started. Pack up your gear and don’t forget to fill your waterskins.”
Bradok looked sheepishly at Rose, who was even more amused.
A flurry of activity followed, during which all the rest of the dwarves got up, stretched, and prepared for the journey ahead.
“He’s full of good ideas,” Bradok said in a low voice, sidling closer to Rose.
Rose grinned before her face turned serious. “I don’t much care for him, to be honest,” she said in a low voice. “He seems to need to be right all the time.”
Bradok frowned. The same thought had occurred to him. “He’s probably harmless,” he said.
“Probably,” she agreed, sounding unconvinced.
“Well, I better go make sure nobody needs any help,” he said, moving off reluctantly.
“You go,” Rose said, walking toward the water. “I’m ready. But there’s something I’d really like to do first.”