The Parting of Ways by J. Thorn & Glynn James

Author:J. Thorn & Glynn James [Thorn, J. & James, Glynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Element 12 Ltd
Published: 2016-09-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 34

The wind rose from the west and pushed at Gaston’s clan, forming an invisible wall of resistance. On it he could detect no scent, no woodland creatures, fowl or game. As they approached the summit, the sun remained hidden behind a veil of thick, gray clouds. Although the squalls subsided, and the air warmed through the late afternoon, a winter chill remained. The clan had fallen into a single line of families and carts. They passed several piles of ruins, both on the road and off to the side, which forced them to weave through the gaps, slowing the convoy down.

Roke walked alongside Gaston at the front of the caravan. “We are almost to the summit and yet I see nothing.”

“It is there. In the valley,” said Gaston. “You will see, soon enough.”

Gaston looked over his shoulder at the straggling line of people following him. He quit taking head counts days ago, but there was no doubt that they were much fewer than they had been when they split from The Elk. The man they left with Seren was not the only one afflicted. Gaston pushed thoughts of her from his mind.

“The air feels heavy,” Roke said.

Gaston didn’t reply but felt it as well. He took deep breaths and yet they failed to fill his lungs. Gaston felt an itch on his right foot but did not stop to scratch it. Over the course of the morning’s journey, the itch had grown into the burn of blood blisters.

“We are almost to the valley. We are almost home.”

They walked another three hundred yards in silence, the sky rising up to greet them while the road cut through it. Gaston turned and halted the caravan.

“We are about to descend into the valley. We will finally see White Citadel. Our long journey is almost over.”

The haggard faces looked back, blank and unblinking. Gaston noticed that those who had the dark red and black sores no longer attempted to hide them. Roke looked at the people and then to Gaston.

“Let’s keep going,” said the boy.

Gaston smiled and he nodded while slapping the boy on the shoulder. “Yes, yes,” Gaston said. “We’re so close.”

Gaston took the book from his coat and flipped through the pages. He ran his finger down one side and then the other.

“What does it say?” Roke asked.

“We will see White Citadel in the Valley of Life. It will rise from the earth and call us home.”

“What does it look like?”

“A gleaming tower,” said Gaston. “A symbol of purity and power.”

Roke nodded and began walking. Gaston put the book back into his coat and continued along the road, pulling even with the boy. The summit was only a few hundred yards away now, and he wanted to run like a child through a field of summer wheat. As the road came to a peak, Gaston saw the hills roll out behind it, encircling the valley in a loose embrace. He stared into the western sky, now turning shades of purple as the sun set behind the winter clouds.

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