East of the Sun

Chapter 24

Bryn pushed a pine branch from her view, the soft layer of fresh snow clumped to her feet. Above her, in the pine's upper branches Nkemdilim nibbled on the remnants of a pine cone, little bits of the hard outer covering dropping upon her.

She looked upward with a raised brow.

He held a second cone out to her, offering to share.

"Ah...no thanks. I'll stick with the rations we purchased," she patted the sack on her back awkwardly.

Nkemdilim shrugged. "Your loss."

After escaping the temple she had decided to stay the night in Skrattafell. To her consternation, she discovered the foundry occupied. Several rather questionable looking men had taken up residence, and when she peered inside were drunkenly burning the remains of her table—the real one—to keep warm.

Sagely, Nkemdilim had reminded her of their mission, and she had withheld the desire to burst in and brain them all with a table leg or two. Instead, she had ducked into the unattended attic in a storehouse down the alley. She spent the night shuddering beneath her cloak. Carefully balancing her distance from the small fire so she could feel its heat but wasn't singeing anything important. At least the shabby wooden walls blocked the wind.

She missed Rute. When they journeyed together he always managed a warm place to rest at night. No doubt he would have ensured her warmth and safety far better. Not only that, she missed his company. Guilt hounded her when she was still, and by the time dawn broke she had been ready to leave. They had found the cave exactly where the crone said it would be.

Bryn looked at the remainder of their journey again. The sun hovered at its zenith, giving them plenty of daylight to discover what was in the cave, and still have time to return to Skrattafell before dark, should the old woman prove to be a rambling lunatic.

Thick forest covered both the slope on which she stood and the far rise, but it was the empty valley that concerned her. To cross it she would be exposed for long minutes. If someone did linger in the cave they would spot her approach long before she reached the entrance. She had hoped to be the one with the advantage, especially given her recent distrust of caves in general.

A low wailing brought her focus back to the present. Wolves; a fair distance off, but concerning none the less.

"I am ready when you are," Nkemdilim jumped from his perch and landed neatly on her pack.

"Not inclined to wait here while I check the cave?" she teased.

Nkemdilim snorted. "Funny. Did you know I had to hide in a barrel of salted eel to escape those monsters?"

"Oh? To disguise your scent?" she squared her shoulders. There was nothing for it. Either face exposure or travel for miles around the valley searching for a better route. Better cross now and hope for the best, especially if wolves lurked in the woods.

"Well, actually, it was where I landed when I misjudged a leap from a booth nearby; but you should have seen the vendor go after them with that stick," satisfaction tinged his last words. "A big stick," he added.

"So then how did you get wet? I distinctly remember your fur was soaked."

There was a long pause where Bryn listened to the hollow crunching of her footsteps. Now that she neared the cave she realized it would have been wise to spend part of the silver coin on some form of weapon; rather than hording it all to dried meats and a variety of cheese and flat-breads. The fortuneteller might be mistaken, she knew very little about the woman's accuracy. What if the cave resident was disinclined to help? What if they were inclined to murder random trespassers? One didn't hide themselves away in such a remote place for savory reasons.