Darkrise (The Rhenwars Saga Book 3) by M.L. Spencer

Author:M.L. Spencer [Spencer, M.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Grimdark Fantasy
Publisher: Stoneguard Publications
Published: 2018-02-21T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Isle of Winter

Isle of Titherry, The Rhen

Naia winced and squinted as brilliant light clawed away the darkness of the Catacombs. The screech of metal grinding against rusted metal shuddered down her nerves, making her clench her teeth as the doors of the shrine peeled open in front of them. They stood in a shard of garish blue light that widened with the yawning of the doors.

“I do believe we’re underdressed for the occasion,” Quin remarked, and started buttoning his coat.

Naia held her cloak closed against the searing chill that invaded the shrine’s outer door. “What’s the occasion?” she asked, shivering.

“Winter.” Quin didn’t appear particularly happy about it.

“What were you expecting?”

“Not winter.” Quin jumped down off the marble foundation of the shrine, turning back to offer Naia a hand.

She landed in the snow and staggered a few steps, making crunching noises with her boots. She glanced around at a world clad all in white, pristine and radiant. The ground was covered in freshly fallen snow, the trees frosted with ice that shimmered beneath a cold sun. The air was crisp and deadly cold.

Naia’s breath made a misty cloud before her face. She glanced at Quin in alarm.

“Have you ever been here before? Is this normal for this time of year?”

“No,” he responded, glancing around with a concerned expression. “Only Harbingers were ever allowed here, even in my day. The entire island was off-limits.”

Naia said, “I’ve never met a Harbinger before.”

“Then you’re not alone. No one but Harbingers meet other Harbingers. They’ve always been a secretive lot.”

Snow frosted the landscape, unmarred by bird or animal tracks. A powdery field ranged away from them to the rolling mountains in the distance. A crystalline woodland bordered the foothills. Except for the small shrine behind them, there was little trace that civilization had ever existed here.

Naia listened to the great silence that surrounded them. “Where do we go?”

Quin didn’t seem to know the answer to that. He stood with his hands on his hips, glancing nervously about. He worked his lips against his teeth.

“Athera’s Cresent is somewhere high in the mountains. That’s all I know.”

His tone was dismal. Perhaps he was still grieving for his brother. Or perhaps their situation was far more dire than she’d feared. Naia stared at him, wondering if there was something he wasn’t telling her.

She asked, “How much food do we have?”

“It’s not food I’m concerned about.” He turned slowly as he surveyed the stark landscape around them. “Something’s not right. Don’t you feel it?”

She did. Something was off. That’s the best word she could think of to describe it. Like a bite of food that had just turned; that’s what the world was like here. Not fresh. But not tainted, either. Just off.

“I think so,” she whispered. “Do you see a road?”

“No.” Quin shook his head. “But I bet it’s over there.”

He gestured across the snow-fed meadow to an archway half-buried in the distance. Naia agreed; the arch looked like a gateway to something.

“Let’s go.”

She started across the meadow, her feet crunching through the top layer of snow.

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