Yet the Monster had promised a soft, sweet land where bellflowers grew wild, and Redwing wanted so much to fly West . . .
Bily remembered then with a thrill of alarm that she had not returned the night before, but when he sat up, he saw her perched in her customary place on the wagon frame, head tucked under her wing. He went to get her some seeds, wincing in pain when he bumped his hand opening the seed pouch.
‘We are nearing the mountains,’ the Monster said.
‘You are awake!’ Bily said gladly, and he hastened to fill a bowl with the leftover stew from the night before. But the Monster ate only a few bites before asking for water.
After drinking, it said, ‘This is one of the veils of the Clouded Mountains, thrown out to catch us.’
There was a dreamy strangeness to its voice that made Bily’s fur prickle.
‘Must we go to the mountains?’ he found himself asking.
‘There is no avoiding them,’ the Monster said. ‘Soon you will see. Fierce winds scour the heights, routing the mists. When the mountains reveal themselves, mark the notch that is the pass. For you must go through it to find the hot land. Beyond that is the green land.’
‘There is a way through?’ Zluty asked, coming to stand by Bily. Their voices had woken him.
‘Water falls into the pass from the mountains and flows to form two rivers. One river flows West from the pass and crosses through the hot land and the green land on its way to the edgeless sea.’
‘Where does the other river flow?’ Bily asked curiously.
‘It flows East from the pass and curves North to travel along the feet of the mountains, but do not concern yourself for that way is said to be a desert of ice where none can live,’ the Monster said dismissively. ‘You must concentrate on getting through the pass before winter brings blizzards down from the heights.’
‘You came through this pass?’ Zluty asked the Monster before Bily had the chance to ask what blizzards were.
‘The only way is through the pass,’ the Monster answered, and Bily thought that was not quite an answer. But it went on, ‘The mountains march South and North, standing shoulder to shoulder save for this one pass that cuts through them. It is said there are burning lands to the South and an ice desert far to the North, though none I have spoken to have seen either. Nor can you climb over the range, for the face is steep, and even if you managed to scale it, there would be snow and blizzards at the top to contend with.’
‘What is snow?’ asked Zluty.
The Monster curled its lip in a snarl of distaste. ‘It is the soft and deadly freezing of paw and whisker and the shiver of bones inside skin. It is the whisper of coldwhites that fall from the sky. It is a sleep that ends in death.’ Its voice trailed away and its eyes drooped.
‘What is a blizzard?’ Bily asked, but the Monster was asleep.
‘Never mind,’ Zluty said. ‘At least we know it had a good reason for directing us to the mountains. Though I don’t see how we can see this notch in the mist.’
‘It said the wind will blow the mist away and we will see it then,’ Bily said.
‘We should wait till we reach the mountains before we lance the Monster’s paw. From what it says, we don’t have far to go. A few more hours will make no difference.’
Bily was not sure of that, but instead of worrying about lancing the paw as they walked, he tried to guess what a blizzard was. The word smelled of fierceness and wildness and, most of all, of danger. Also the Monster had said blizzards would descend from the heights when winter came, which meant they might be winged. That ought to have made them seem less fearsome, but the Monster had spoken of blizzards warily, which meant they must be very dangerous indeed.
At midday, suddenly and without warning, the mist parted just as the Monster had said it would, and they saw the jagged ridgeline of the Clouded Mountains thrusting up into the sky. They were black and rough like the stony outcrops they had been passing, only a hundred times higher. Bily was simply unable to imagine the great dark weight of stone that must be underneath, supporting them.
‘The pass!’ Zluty cried, pointing to a deep notch in the ridgeline, revealed when the mist shifted.
Then as suddenly as it had parted, the mist closed over and the mountains disappeared.
‘We must angle further North to reach it,’ Zluty said, turning the wagon. As ever, once he had seen his destination, he would be able to find it. ‘We will arrive by nightfall. Sooner, if the mountains stretch out towards us.’
In his haste to adjust his own course, Bily jogged his sore hand. He managed to stifle a cry, but the pain brought tears to his eyes. Yet he was glad to be distracted from the terrible cold surge of fear that had flowed through him at the sight of the Clouded Mountains.
He trotted behind the wagon, telling himself it was only the strangeness of the earth rising up in that unnatural way and the sheer size of the mountains that had unnerved him.
It was late in the day when they reached the foot of the Clouded Mountains. Seen so close, they were no more than a wall of stone running in both directions as far as they could see. Certainly they were as steep as a wall and impossible to climb. Indeed, Bily could not imagine how blizzards managed to scale the heights if they did not have wings.
And there was no sign of the pass.
‘Do not worry,’ Zluty assured him. ‘I deliberately brought us in at a sharper angle so we can walk along the foot of the mountains to the pass.’
Bily nodded, unable to speak, for the fear that had assailed him earlier had returned.
‘Do you feel sick?’ Zluty asked. But before Bily could answer, he said contritely, ‘Oh your hand! I am sorry, Bily! I was just so eager to get here I did not think of it.’
‘I bumped it,’ Bily said truthfully, unable to bring himself to confess that he was quite simply frightened half out of his wits for no reason he could explain.
Zluty suggested they rest, but the last thing Bily wanted to do was stop where they were. Before he could say so, Redwing arrowed through the mist to land on the ground beside the wagon. Bily smoothed her damp feathers, fed her some seeds and questioned her. He could sense that she disliked the damp, foggy air as much as he did. But his mind was too unsettled to gather much more than that she had flown South in a fruitless search for a way through the mountain range. That she had not tried to fly over the mountains told him how high they were. He tried to explain there was a pass ahead, but she did not understand.
‘Never mind,’ said Zluty. ‘You can try to explain again when we stop for the night. We should keep moving now. It will not be long before it is dark.’
Gradually the mist turned a ruddy red-gold, signalling that the sun was setting somewhere beyond the range. A bloody light briefly bathed the hard dark face of the mountain, reminding Bily unpleasantly of the colour of the arosh stones that had destroyed their home.
Zluty stopped abruptly, pointing to a wide opening just ahead in the wall of stone. Then, softly and suddenly, the red faded and it was darkest night.
‘The mist will stop the light from the Chain of Stars or the Moon’s Dream reaching us,’ Zluty said. ‘I think we had better camp right here. I would rather venture into the pass in the daylight.’
‘Yes,’ Bily whispered, relieved . . . until Zluty said they had better not light a fire in case it attracted the attention of some creature or other. He did not speak of blizzards, but Bily was sure they were in his brother’s mind, and he realised he might not be the only one hiding his fears.
Since it was impossible to cook without a fire, they ate leftover damper, some dried fruit and rather stale nuts. The Monster still slept and Redwing was asleep perched in her usual place on the edge of the wagon at one end, feathers well fluffed to keep her warm. Zluty decided it was too cold for them to sleep on the ground without a fire. He lifted some of the supplies out of the wagon so they could lie alongside the sleeping Monster. He would not let Bily help because of his hurt hand, so Bily used the soft glow of light fro
m his little skystone knife to check on the plants.
Several were drooping so he rearranged them to hang closer to the Monster, guessing they did not like the cold.
He made no attempt to check on the Monster’s wounded paw, for what could be done about it anyway with no fire to heat water? At least the cactus salve was keeping the pain at bay, else it would not have slept so soundly. But come what may, the paw must be lanced the next day.
Yawning, Bily climbed into the wagon and Zluty did the same. The great, soft bulk of the Monster soon warmed him and he tried to let the heavy throb of its heart soothe him to sleep. But it was a long time before he closed his eyes.
Bily awoke to the sight of Zluty kneeling over a very small fire, stirring porridge. It was early morning and very cold and dark.
‘You should have woken me,’ he said, struggling from the wagon.
‘I decided a small fire would not hurt since we will be moving as soon as it is light. Then it seemed we might as well have a hot breakfast.’ His breath, like Bily’s, came out in a little cloud of white mist. ‘I am glad you could sleep. I lay awake half the night. There is something about these mountains that makes my fur fluff.’
‘Mine too,’ Bily said, relieved that he was not alone in his feelings. Though Zluty sounded more annoyed than afraid.
‘When I did sleep, I had an awful nightmare about blizzards,’ Zluty went on. ‘I wish we knew what they were.’
‘How did they look in your dream?’ Bily asked.
Zluty gave him a wry grin. ‘Like slish.’
‘I dreamed we were back in the cottage,’ Bily said. ‘Only it was dreadfully cold.’
‘It is cold,’ Zluty said. ‘Though I was warm enough sleeping by the Monster.’
‘It is fevered,’ Bily said. ‘I have to lance the paw today.’
‘When the sun rises we will go into the pass and you can do it there,’ Zluty said. ‘We might even be able to see the hot land beyond the mountains.’
Bily found it hard to imagine what the hot land might look like, surrounded as they were by a clammy mist that seemed to have seeped into his mind and his spirit. But he sat by the fire and accepted a bowl of hot porridge. Zluty had sweetened it with a drizzle of honey and a few dried bits of fruit and it gave him a terrible pang of homesickness, for they had so often eaten it that way at the table in the cottage. He had always loved their home, but in that moment the pain of its loss was so sharp that he had to press his lips together hard to stop from crying out. Zluty had claimed to love the cottage most fiercely when he was away from it, knowing it was waiting for him, and Bily wondered how either of them could bear its loss.
Not wanting to burden his brother with his sorrow, Bily went to the wagon to get the brush. He combed himself hard and thoroughly until he had got control of himself, then he returned to the fire where Zluty was just finishing a second bowl of porridge. Bily insisted on cleaning the dishes while Zluty gave his own short, thick fur a cursory brush.
It was still not quite dawn, but light enough for them to see the mouth of the pass when they packed everything back in its place and set off. The fog seemed thicker than ever, but around the mouth of the pass it thinned. Zluty wondered if it might be because there was warmer air flowing in from the West. But when they stepped into the pass, he saw that it was blocked by a wall of rubble. It was mounded so high that Zluty could barely see the top in the misty air. What had been a pass was now a dead end.
‘What now?’ Bily whispered.
Zluty felt close to despair himself, but he mustered his courage and said, ‘I will climb up and see what is on the other side.’
‘What does it matter?’ Bily cried. ‘I can’t climb with my sore hand, and even if I could, we can’t lift the Monster over that. Or the wagon.’
‘We will find a way,’ Zluty insisted.
Bily offered a woebegone smile. ‘You are always so steadfast, Zluty.’
Zluty felt humbled by his words, but also troubled because Bily was right. He could not climb with his injured hand, and while Zluty might help him up using ropes, and they might even manage to drag the wagon up between them, there was no way they could lift the Monster up. He had no doubt it would have urged them to leave it behind, had it been awake.
No, there was only one course open to them. They would have to go around the mountains, and since Redwing had flown South without having come to the end of the range, it made sense to head North. Besides, if it was a choice between an ice plain and burning lands, he would rather be cold than set on fire. Explaining all of this, Zluty asked Bily to see if Redwing would fly North to see what lay that way.
Watching his brother speak to the bird, Zluty saw how tenderly Bily stroked the bird’s feathers as he leaned close to tell her what he wanted. He could see by the way Redwing’s feathers ruffled that she was reluctant, but at length she stroked his cheek with her beak, shook out her wings and leapt into the air to vanish in a coil of fog.
‘The further we travel the harder it is to reach her mind,’ Bily sighed, staring after her. He looked at his brother. ‘It was hard to make her go North. She wants so badly to fly West. It is like a great wind that blows her thoughts before it.’
‘Never mind that now,’ Zluty said. ‘Let’s pull the wagon a bit further into the pass.’
Bily was distracted as he helped Zluty move the wagon and then went to check on the Monster. When he came back, his expression was grave and determined. ‘We must do the lancing at once.’
Zluty’s heart sank, for he had hoped all along that the paw would heal of its own accord. But he was determined to deserve Bily’s description of him as steadfast, so said briskly, ‘I will make a fire and then I will forage while you make your preparations. Better to do the lancing at midday, when the sun is directly overhead.’
Bily went off to rummage in the wagon as Zluty built a small fire then slipped his forage bag over his head and set off deeper into the pass, intending to forage his way to the rockfall. They still had food, but if they must travel round the mountains rather than through them, they would need to forage as they went.
One side of the pass was so steep and smooth that nothing could grow on it but patches of a brownish moss that might be edible if he could find some low enough to collect. He also saw thick tufts of pale grass that looked like the whitish-yellow pelt of some huddled little animal, but his nose told him these would not be good to eat. Still, he harvested some to replenish their bedding, which had got rather thin. The important thing was that wherever these grew there would be other plants growing and some were bound to be edible.
He glanced up, trying to make out the top of the mountains on either side of the pass, and saw a bird winging high overhead. It was the first sign of life he had seen and he wondered what sort of bird it was, and if it nested in some rocky niche or was merely passing over the mountains. It was clearly very big to fly so high, for Redwing had told Bily once that the high winds were powerful and unruly. Then he caught the scent of mushrooms! He sniffed them out under an overhang of rock and discovered they were a kind he had never seen before, tall and slender with a delicate green colouring. His nose assured him they would be good to eat and he harvested a little patch, leaving the rest to spore. Deeper into the pass, he found several small, flat, button mushrooms like those he had harvested in the Northern Forest. He put them carefully into his forage bag. He knew from experience that they were too delicate to keep well, but they would add a lovely flavour to a soup or stew if used at once.
As he continued, he found many tiny plants and even some small berries and nuts hidden in nooks and crannies between the rocks at the base of the mountain. Zluty decided that the moisture in the air allowed things to grow, but too little sunlight had kept everything small and rather pale. The only strong colour he saw was the bright yellow of a berry growing on a miniscule ground plant, but the smell made his fur fluff. He decided not to pick any until he had shown them to Bily, whose nose was clever about plants. In truth he sometimes
felt as if Bily could communicate with growing things almost as easily as with animals and birds.
Zluty glanced back to the wagon to see his brother industriously mashing something over the fire in a small pot. The veils of mist floating between them gave him and the campsite a dreamlike appearance. For some reason this gave Zluty a little prickle of unease, but he quashed it and went on foraging, until he reached the rockfall. Up close he saw the stones were streaked red and wondered if the stone storm had caused the rockfall.
High overhead on one side of the pass an enormous crag jutted. It had an unnaturally flat end and he guessed the tip had broken away and fallen to block the pass. The rockfall was recent for neither moss nor creeper grew over the stones.
Zluty crossed to the other side of the pass where a wide, deep canal ran. All that remained of the river that had flowed from the pass was a narrow, milky stream of water running along the bottom. There must be a gap in the rockfall through which some water was able to flow.
Zluty followed the channel back to the mouth of the pass, unable to imagine the size of the river that must have once run through it before the rockfall. Then he realised he would see it, for once they went around the mountains they would need to come back to the river so that they could follow it West to the green land. Reaching the mouth, he wondered why he had not seen a single living creature other than the bird that had flown overhead. On impulse, he followed the channel out of the pass and around to the North, where it deepened and narrowed, cleaving so close to the foot of the mountains that there would scarcely be room for a lizard to walk. The mountain flank itself was now so steep it might as well have been a curtain of stone. Zluty was on the verge of turning back when he caught sight of tuber leaves growing out from under a cracked boulder. It took some effort to shift the boulder and dig the tubers out, and they were a good deal smaller than the kind that had grown in Bily’s cottage garden, but there were more than enough for a good soup when added to the mushrooms. Zluty found two more clusters of the tubers before the canal suddenly flattened out so that the stream spread and ran wide and shallow. They had no urgent need of water, but Zluty was curious enough to kneel and scoop a handful to his nose and then to his mouth. It was very pure and icy cold. He refilled the clay bulb he had attached to his harness, realising they could empty out the water jugs and lighten the wagon if they were going to travel beside the stream.