Into the Shadows (Islands in the Mist Book 4) by J.M. Hofer

Author:J.M. Hofer [Hofer, J.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781977613028
Published: 2018-03-06T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The Giant’s Ladder

“She must have camped here,” Taliesin observed, holding up an auburn hair he had found on the ground. His breath billowed in front of him in the chill air, clouding around the crimson strand between his fingers. He tucked the hair in his crane bag and surveyed the area, hoping for another sign of Arhianna. His eyes trailed along the river and the tree line, up to the sheer cliff face, and then fixed themselves on the daunting mountain fortress overhead. Its talons clutched the peak with imposing malice, leaning out over a sheer cliff. Its narrow windows stared down at him like prey, sending a shiver down his spine.

Gawyr noticed where he was looking and grunted. “There’s no trail up the side of the mountain, if that’s what you’re looking for. Most fools end up trying to scale the cliffs. By the time they make it to the bridge, if they make it to the bridge, their fingers are so raw, and muscles so spent, they’re easily defeated by Uathach.”

“Uathach?” Taliesin asked, wrinkling his nose. “Who’s that?”

“Scáthach’s daughter. Gatekeeper. Guards the bridge. Cu Chulainn’s widow, as well, which is something worth noting.” Gawyr opened his pack, pulled out a length of thick rope and tied a grappling hook on to the end of it. “If you can get past her, you can look forward to seven years of hell on earth—if you last that long, of course. If not, you get the privilege meeting Arawn at the bottom of the chasm, and get the real thing. Creepy bastard’s probably built a summer home down there by now.”

Taliesin studied the fortress mount. “So how do you get up?”

Gawyr raised his brows. “Men like you? The smart ones make their way up from the inside. There’s an entrance down by the sea, through a grotto, and a path that winds up through the belly and around the other side, where the cliffs drop into the sea.”

“Then we go in through there.”

Gawyr grimaced and shook his head. “Who said anything about we? You’re not going anywhere. You made a promise to Urien, and I swore to make sure you returned with all your fingers to fulfill it. You stay here in case she comes back to camp. I’ll go.” He stood up and hitched the rope over his shoulder. Before Taliesin could protest, Gawyr had crossed the stream and was pushing into the brush, headed straight for the cliffs.

“Wait! I thought you said only fools try to scale the walls to the top!”

“Fools your size, bard,” Gawyr yelled back. “My people built this place.”

Gawyr’s head floated above the bare branches of the sparse trees like a dark ship on a wild sea. “Wait!” Taliesin scrambled after him, the hounds at his heels.

Gawyr reached the wall and paced back and forth a bit, until he found what he was looking for. As if he had found an invisible ladder set against the cliff, he reached his tremendous hand up and found what seemed to be an invisible hold.

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