Free The Curse in the Gift (The Last Whisper of the Gods Book 2) by James Berardinelli Page A

hand to unload and re-load wagons for a handful of bronze studs. This time of year, any merchant thinking of using the passage had better come prepared with the right kind of wagon. Ain’t no trading past the first snow.”
    “How was it built?” asked Alicia. She couldn’t fathom the effort it must have taken to form such a precarious bridge. Whether it was erected or carved, it wasn’t a natural formation.
    “An earth wizard,” said Kara. “A thousand years ago, The Crags were impassable to human traffic. Everyone who wanted to move from the North to the South and the other way around had to go through Earlford, where the slope of the land is gentle and forgiving. Then an earth wizard dedicated himself to creating a passage. Widow’s Pass is in large part his handiwork. This bridge was once wider and sturdier but after enduring so much traffic over so many years, it’s begun to show its age. It was meant to be regularly maintained but the removal of magic made that impossible. Unless it’s repaired, it will eventually become unusable and The Crags will again defy human penetration.”
    “How far does it go?” asked Alicia, openly gaping.
    “Like this? Maybe ten miles. We should be able to make it to the other side before nightfall. One benefit of attempting the crossing at this time of the year is that we ain’t gonna have to worry ’bout encountering a group traveling in the opposite direction. That can create a difficult situation.” Vagrum paused, momentarily lost in thought as if remembering one such “difficult situation.” He continued, “The second bridge is another day’s travel ahead. It passes just east of the tallest Crag. Once beyond that, the trip gets easier and the road begins to slope downward.
    “Keep a careful rein on your horses and go slowly. Don’t let them stray too close to the edges and if they slip, don’t panic. There ain’t no reason we shouldn’t be able to make it across. The people who died here were greedy, stupid, or impatient. We ain’t none of those things - or so I hope.” The glance in Rexall’s direction wasn’t coincidental.
    The crossing took a little more than six hours and it represented the most harrowing time of Alicia’s young life. She spent the better part of it clutching so tightly to the reins that she developed cramps in her hands. There were no stops; the narrowness of the path didn’t allow for safe dismounting or remounting. When they ate, they did so astride the horses as the animals crawled forward. Fortunately, they were all sure-footed. Only once did a horse slip, and it was a minor incident. Rexall, whose mount it was, remained calm and quickly had the beast under control and again moving forward. The sheen of sweat on his forehead, which froze quickly in the face of a cold, stiff breeze, was the only betrayal of his nerves.
    Then, before they reached the far side, it began to snow. At first, there were only small, occasional flakes whipped by the changeable winds, but by the time the path widened and the chasm receded, the snow was falling heavily, blanketing everything and hiding the road’s dangerous imperfections. With darkness descending, they had little choice but to dismount and prepare for a long, unpleasant night. There was no fuel for a fire, so they had to rely on huddling together for body warmth. They brushed the horses, put blankets over the animals’ backs and watered them, then sat in a tight circle, back-to-back and side-to-side under a layer of heavy woolen clothing. They camped in the middle of the road; there seemed little point in moving off it. Even if there were others in the pass, they wouldn’t travel at night. To do so, especially this close to the bridge, was suicide.
    In the middle of the night, with snow still falling silently around them and her hands and feet numb from cold, Alicia realized that what she was seeing wasn’t a figment of her mind or an optical illusion. Back the way from which they had