The Colorless Land

Chapter 30: The Land of Stone

From that time on they turned away from the Whitewell and headed south, away from Rivertown and away from the memories.

The snow stopped falling, but it remained thick and difficult to pass, even more so off the road. And yet it still worked in their favor. In this weather few dared to travel, and the lands were deserted, the herds of cattle kept in their barns and the farmers and homesteaders away from the fields. Their treacherous trails Lisha concealed with her magic, multiplying them and making them branch and lead off into obscurity.

"That only leaves us with one question," Aithal mused as they made their slow, shivering way southeast. "To get to the empty lands we'll have the Fireborn River to cross."

"I vote for stealing a boat," said Saryana, audibly frustrated. "Anything as long as we don't have to deal with any more outlaws."

"Maybe the river's frozen," Evariel threw in.

"Rivers don't freeze up that fast," Jolette replied at once. "'Specially not big ones."

Zamrod furrowed his brow. "Where are we crossing?"

"I have yet to decide," said Aithal, "depending on—"

"If you let me lead the way, I can get you over."

They all blinked at him. In all their confusion they had completely forgotten how many connections the dwarf had.

"Are they trustworthy?" Saryana asked with narrowed eyes. "The people who can get us over."

"My folk?" Zamrod gave a scoff. "Wouldn't waste my time on them if they weren't."

Lisha bowed her head and motioned for him to lead the way.

~ ~ ~

They reached the Fireborn without meeting a single soul. Their journey was still slow and freezing, but at least they no longer had to fear being pursued. Camps were uncomfortable; it was difficult to find shelter and impossible to make a proper fire. Edmian and Zamrod seemed the only ones unaffected by the lack of sleep and constant cold.

"Keep your heads up," was all the dwarf would say. "It'll get warmer soon."

In this way they reached the banks of the Fireborn once more, without a lake this time, and with no human settlements in sight except for a small cabin that looked barely used. Zamrod steered directly towards it and knocked.

There was a rattle and a thud, then heavy footsteps, and the door opened to reveal an ancient dwarf. He was bent by countless years, his hair and beard white as snow and brushing over the floor; his face was so wrinkled that no features could be made out except for bushy white eyebrows and dark, gleaming eyes.

"Zamrod," said a voice, and Jolette almost choked on air when she realized the voice was female. "It's late. You want?"

"To cross the river," Zamrod said in the same tone. "I have companions."

The old dwarf gave a grunt. "How many?"

"Seven total."

"Hm."

The door slammed shut again, only to re-open moments later with the dwarf dressed in a patched-up winter coat. "We take the big boat," she said. "Follow me." With a glance at the group, she added, "The kids and elf shut up."

"Who is that?" Evariel asked, whispering to Zamrod.

"Great-aunt," the dwarf answered. "Don't bother her."

The dwarf great-aunt led them down along the river-bank, moving at an impressive pace for someone her height and age. Behind the cabin they found two boats tied to a dock that looked much more well-tended than the house itself; one was barely big enough to fit two human adults, but the other was clearly made to ferry larger groups.