Free The Elder's Path by J.D. Caldwell Page A

certainly be slowed, and she found herself frustrated and numbed by her slow progress. What was more, she had lost her way the day previous and was simply guessing now. She was moving steadily up, but that's all she knew for sure. According to Thom, the storms would lessen as she passed this middle portion of the mountain, so all she could do is keep walking forward.
    Despite her determination, the storm had other intentions. Soon visibility was so low Lyn could not see what direction she was even facing. To make matters worse, the wind pushed her so hard she nearly fell backwards. Lyn suspected it was only going to get worse and intended to set about finding shelter. However, in her rush to get out of the storm she forgot to use her prod and with a horrified cry that was immediately drowned by the cutting gales of wind, she dropped below the surface snow and disappeared.
    After a moment Lyn realized she was no longer falling, and that she was ind eed intact. Her heart pounded in her ears, so she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to calm herself. The sound of the wind came first, followed by a dull roar around her as it cut through the crevasse she found herself in. Above that, she could barely make out Alir calling shrilly. She tried to cry out, but found her throat closed and no sound emerged. She shook her head and looked about, trying to find an easy way out. It appeared that her tumble took her down about double her height, making an immediate reach for the edge impossible. Remembering her ice pick, she unslung her pack and retrieved it. She hadn't had the occasion to use it, so she was unsure of herself as she spiked into the ice and began to haul herself up. To no avail however as a sharp pain shot through her shoulder and she yelped, dropping herself back down to the ground, which shifted uneasily beneath her. She paused, holding her breath, but did not hear the snow shifting any more. Breathing raggedly once more, she sucked in fiercely against the pain, but it quickly subsided in to a dull ache, and then nothing. She concluded that the injury was nothing life threatening at least, but she wouldn't be climbing her way out of the crack any time soon.
    The snow-ridden traveler loo ked around her, surprised at how light the ravine was. Sunlight hitting the snow and ice filtered through to create an eerie blue glow. Lyn turned and checked behind her but saw only a wall of snow. Before her, however, was something of a tunnel; the snowpack above formed a makeshift ceiling and the walls of the ravine, evidently made of ice, were approximately five feet apart from each other, giving Lyn ample room to walk. With a squawk, Alir made his way through the hole Lyn had fallen through, landing haphazardly on her shoulder. Lyn winced in anticipation of the pain but felt nothing other than marginal discomfort. Shrugging at the small victory, Lyn turned to her companion and smiled lightly, glad they were not separated. Without further incident they made their way slowly down the icy pathway, and shortly the two found the great crack moving down. Frustrated, Lyn again stopped to see if there was possibly another way out, but was lost for options. The two resigned themselves to moving down, disappointed to be traveling in the direction opposite of their intended destination.
    After what seemed an eternity of silent trudging, Lyn and Alir found their pathway darkening and concluded that they were moving underground. Just as suddenly as Lyn had found it, t he ravine terminated in to a cave. The cave was dark, but Lyn could hear the distinctive sound of wind blowing, albeit not immediately nearby. She felt her heart begin to pound once more; she had never considered herself a claustrophobic person and she had certainly spent time in caves and dens. But this was different; this was unknown, with no way back. This was risk of the highest variety, and the walls of any structure begin to feel like a pressing cage under such