Chapter 59

Chapter

Fifty-Nine

ALYX

W e reach Tundra Province by mid-morning. The small village, Fireheart, is bracketed by the mountains, cast in an almost constant shadow. The temperatures are cold, and the land is even harder to live on, meaning those that do are strong, smart, and determined. It also means they are not used to visitors, especially ones dressed like us. Here, they are cloaked in furs, their hands and faces covered in oil and coal. We stand out even after riding for days, their suspicious eyes following us as we move through the village.

Taking the main road, we dismount at the tiny stables, and I let Orion pay the unfriendly worker there. I push back my hood and eye the village, noting all possible threats—a habit I will never be able to break. It has saved my life on countless occasions.

The houses here are not like those in the Uppers nor the Lowers. They are made of stone and wood, scraped together by whatever can be harvested and found. Drying racks sit out front, and fires burn brightly within the walls. I don’t see any children playing, nor any animals scampering about. Most of the houses are empty, and it’s clear everyone is busy at work.

It’s eerily quiet, and the stable hand is about as hospitable as the land as he spits on the floor after following Orion to my side.

“He’s not here, apparently,” Orion offers, his eyebrows drawn together in anger. Both of us know how precious our time is. I turn my attention to the man, running my eyes from head to toe, noting his tattered and worn clothes. His hair is long and shaggy, his face is streaked with dirt, and his eyes are hard.

Pulling out a bag of coins, I toss them to the man, knowing that is how you get someone like this to speak. He catches it, weighing it in his hand as he eyes me. I arch one eyebrow, my own eyes hardening, and he glances away for a moment.

“You will not find the healer here. He’s an hour’s ride north. He has his own compound there, which is where most of the elderly and sick are treated. They don’t take kindly to outsiders, and the road is hard. Maybe it’d be best if you head back to where you came from,” he says, spitting once more on the hay-covered dirt.

I understand the mentality. The Lowers are like this. We protect our own, and we do not trust outsiders.

I incline my head in acknowledgement of his warning. “Either way, we will go. Is it sign posted?”

“Nothing out here is.” He chuckles before ambling away. Clearly, that is all we will get from him.

Striding to my horse, I mount it and turn to Orion. “What are we waiting for?”

He sighs deeply but follows suit, and we trot down the main street. Once at the end of the village, we cross a stone bridge that seems to signal the end of humans’ reach. A huge forest engulfs us as we follow a thin trail only wide enough to walk in a line. I hear wolves howl and wild animals within their depths, and every now and again, we have to dismount to clear the way.

“This might be a trap,” Orion cautions.

“Maybe,” I reply, my eyes sharp as I scan our surroundings. “Or maybe it’s not. I guess we will find out.”

I steer my steed over increasingly rougher terrain as we wind through the forest.

Orion sighs deeply. “This was not a good idea,” he finally says, grumpy as hell.

“Where is your sense of adventure?” I grin at him.

“Back with civilisation and beds.” He smirks, making me laugh.

We continue on for at least another hour, and the forest opens up, flattening out. Lingering on the edge, we eye the wooden compound built into the side of the mountain. There is a tall, wooden fence with an open double gate, allowing us to see multiple structures inside and people hustling about. There is not much else out here, so this has to be it.

I share a look with Orion, and then we kick our horses into motion, covering the distance. When we reach the gate, I dismount and lead my horse over to the tether, my eyes on the structures I can see beyond.

Orion appears at my side, his hand on his weapon.

“Remember, we need his help.”

He nods and drops his hand despite it clearly being a habit.

Leaving our horses tethered to the thin wooden pole, we stride towards the open gates and into the compound.

It’s a hive of activity despite its solitude. Women and men in robes and aprons hurry between patients spread out across the buildings. One to my left clearly houses a small kitchen, and there is an outhouse to my right. The buildings between them are open, with no sides or doors, just poles holding up a peaked wooden roof. Beds cover every inch, filled with the elderly and sick. There’s a courtyard in the middle with a huge well they pump water from, and at the very back is a small building, the only one with walls. Three wooden steps lead up to it.

“Excuse me.” I catch the arm of a nurse hurrying past. “We are looking for Healer Arbella?”

She eyes me and then Orion. “You do not look sick. You’ll be waiting a long time. We have many dying to tend to first.”

“We are not sick,” I admit. “We come to talk, that is all. We are old friends.”

She eyes us once more. “He is not here right now. He is with an aide, collecting herbs deep within the mountain to treat the sick. He will be back by nightfall. You can wait here, though it might not be pleasant.”

I nod in thanks, bowing my head as she hurries off. “So many sick.”

“Out here, even a cold is deadly,” Orion remarks.

“Then let’s make ourselves useful while we wait.” Throwing off my cloak, I lay it over a wooden barrel and push my sleeves back as Orion eyes me. “He’s much more likely to talk if we are being helpful. Besides, they clearly need it.”

“You continue to surprise me,” he says, sliding his hand down my arm in a quick stolen touch before he nods. “You’re right. What can we do to help?” He catches the arm of a passerby.

“The well needs pumping, the outhouse is clogged, the roofs are leaking, bandages need to be changed, and medicine has to be passed out. Take your pick,” he scoffs, hurrying away.

“Not the outhouse,” we both say at once, sharing a look before we laugh.