Free The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom by H. Leighton Dickson

they could ill afford now as the air around them grew cooler and the heavy
cloaks of midday became welcome second-pelts. They had passed the Inn Kerris
had mentioned, but there was no sign announcing it as such. Even still, he’d
been sorely tempted to stop for a flask of ale and directions. But the place
had seemed abandoned, the windows blackened, door bolted. Nothing on this
journey was proving simple, he had concluded.
    Immediately
ahead, there was the sound of a hoof sliding on unsteady ground. The lead guard
had caught his mount soon enough but the Captain called a halt to their
progress. He dismounted and strode to the fore.
    High
in the distance he could see lights.
    Torches,
most likely, lining what could only be some sort of road. He prayed that they
led to the monastery and not some other Inn or marketplace or ox-cart.
    He
felt warm breath on his neck.
    “Can
I help you, sidi?” purred the Alchemist, standing altogether too close
for his comfort.
    “No,
but thank you, sidala. ” He sighed and surveyed the river of lights,
winding its way into a steep ravine far above them. “We are in need of torch,
not candle.”
    She
smiled and held out her palm. A burst of fire erupted within, and Kirin found
himself shrinking away from its brilliance. It burned from no recognizable
source but something in the palm of her hand sizzled and flared with the light
of many torches.
    He
nodded, impressed.
    “That... should suffice.”
    “Wow,”
came Fallon Waterford’s voice, hushed with wonder. “Look at all this...”
    On
the rock face behind them were carvings.
    The
entire side of the mountain was chiseled from its stony base as far up as they
could see. Kirin shook his head. The carvings did not start here, but likely
had begun a long way back on the trail, the shadows of the setting sun
rendering them unnoticed and incomprehensible. Even now, they remained as such
for the symbols themselves were strange, likely remnants of an ancient tongue.
    “Oh
look,” exclaimed Fallon, standing in her stirrups and pointing to a character
high up on the cliff face. Sherah shone the ‘torch’ in her direction. “There’s
Buddah! And and Ramah! And Kristos, the Three-in-One! Wow! And this, this is
the symbol for ‘eyes’, thousands of eyes, no - a Thousand Eyes ,
yes!”
    “Can
you read this?”
      “Yes. No. Very little
of it. Some of it though. Some words. Some symbols. Not much.” She glanced at
him, her usually bright eyes weary but earnest. “I think we’re close. If that
helps?”
    He
tried to smile. It ached to do so.
    “Shall
I lead?” purred Sherah al Shiva, holding her ‘torch’ out like a beacon.
    “By
all means , sidala. But I shall be
right behind.”
    She
mounted her horse and smiled again.
    “Of
course.”

 
    ***

 
    Night comes to the Great Mountains.
    Night, anywhere, is a mysterious
thing but in the Great Mountains, in the Valley of the Seers, it takes on
almost religious tones. Night brings with it prayers and petitions, confessions
of sins and admissions of guilt. It brings questions and answers and then
questions again. It brings revelations and lamentations, and the soul-searching
of prophets. And especially, this night, when a sixth life is demanded and
ultimately surrendered, it is a sacred, somber, most terrible thing.
    There is a new star in the heavens,
and the people see it and wonder and fear.
    In
a small bamboo basket, on the back of a horse somewhere, a falcon dies.
    In the Hall of the Seers, a candle
is snuffed out. A lone man kneels weeping and darkness advances into the room.
    And
it is only the Middle of the Second Watch.

 
    ***

 
    Kirin Wynegarde-Grey closed his
eyes.
    “Sha’Hadin”
    They had followed the glow of eerie
torchlight for the last hour, placing their trust in the sure-footedness of
their horses for they had only Sherah’s beacon and precious little moonlight to
guide them. It had grown dark swiftly and with the darkness had come the cold,
chilling them