293) The Salvation of Eden, Chapter 57 — A Naughty Goat

A few days passed before they were ready to consider leaving their safe haven at Grok’s. The immense snowfall from the blizzard had partially melted and re-froze into a hard-top crust. Reilly discovered she could run right along the top of it, cartwheeling and leaping across the crust. The others followed tentatively, testing their weight until they were assured that it was strong enough to support all of them, even Melkorn.

It was time to go. They all, except Kohra, felt confident in the next step of their Quest. Dominic knew the route well, having pored over maps of the terrain in great detail. Grok had given them enough supplies for a week, and if they didn’t find any secret entrances to the Hooded Man’s hideout, they would return.

Granted, they had no idea whatsoever what they would do after that. Gorb wouldn’t even talk about a Plan B. They were on a Quest! They were following the Light! Surely things would work out.

The plan was to stick to the Eastern, rocky part of the pass, staying hidden among the boulders as much as possible. They should be far enough away to escape detection from the Kobolds, and even if they were spotted, it was highly unlikely those creatures would venture out across the middle of the canyon “especially when the snow is so hard-packed,” Grok assured them.

“Why does that matter?” Dominic asked.

“Predators will be out hunting,” Grok answered, matter-of-fact. “They'll be hungry after a few days of being snowed-in. And, with such a hard crust, it'll be easier to chase down prey.”

“This sounds like a terrible idea!” Kohra cried. “This is the worst time to leave!”

  Grok laughed. “No, you see, with the Kobolds close to home, you should be able to pass through unchallenged. Kobolds are cowardly; they prefer the sneak attack from heavy cover.”

“So, let me get this straight.” Kohra did not sound impressed. “We can feel safe from the Kobolds because they’re scared of the other, much nastier predators?”

Grok nodded amiably.

“And why, exactly, won’t the predators decide we’ll make a suitable meal instead?”

Lenny snorted. “Yeah, what are we, chopped liver?”

Grok laughed again, relishing their spiritedness. She particularly liked this Lenny, a real wildcard, a shard of chaos thrown into the Web. Who knew what that girl would do? Not even Lenny herself, of that Grok was quite sure.

“Don’t worry. Kobolds are not as savvy as most of their brethren species. They are highly territorial and tend not to think too broadly outside of that. In any case, what they don’t know is that the landscape is largely devoid of predators today, because the White Dragon is out hunting.”

Kohra opened her mouth to protest even more, but Grok quickly continued. “Don’t worry about the Dragon, Kohra. It would be undignified for her to hunt so close to home. Makes her look desperate.”

Kohra rolled her eyes. This is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done. Which is saying a lot at this point.

* * * * *

As they walked away, Dominic in the lead, Melkorn bringing up the rear, Kohra looked back once to wave, but Grok was already gone. The little cabin receded slowly, disappearing as they rounded the first outcropping and headed uphill, further into the mountains.

The Kobold Pass was cold and forbidding, all frigid wind and howling echoes. Visibility was so poor they could barely see the Western canyon where the Kobolds were supposed to be. The Central canyon, where the White Dragon was said to reside in an icy, diamond-filled lair, was also obscured by an unrelenting blizzard and snowdrifts the size of castles. They crept along the Eastern wall, picking their way through the boulders and drifts, constantly scanning the terrain, and the sky.

Kohra cursed inwardly. There was no hard-packed snow up here at all. So much for Grok’s reassurance about predators scaring away the Kobolds. No problem; all we have to worry about are hungry Kobolds, unknown predators and a bloody Dragon.

But there was no turning back now. Everyone was far too enthusiastic; they were on a Quest! Kohra shook her head, then scanned the sky once more. If nothing else, she wanted to see the Dragon before it made a snack out of them. At least she would die knowing she had seen a real, live Dragon….

By midday, they had made it to the mouth of the Eastern canyon, which was much more sheltered than the main Pass had been. Once they entered, it was relatively quiet. The winds diminished to mere light breezes, and the snowdrifts to manageable waves, instead of the towering ice-cliffs in front of the White Dragon’s lair.

Dominic and Reilly scouted ahead, looking for an animal, any animal. This was their key advantage over Grok’s attempt to follow the Hooded Man, and what they hoped would be the weak spot in his secrecy.

Eventually, Dominic spotted a mountain goat, high above on the cliffside, balancing impossibly on perches too small for their eyes to see at that distance.

“I don't know if I can reach it from so far,” Reilly pouted, kicking at a chunk of ice on the ground. “I don’t even know this species! Why would they even want to talk to me?”

Dominic sighed. Here they were, way out in Kobold hunting grounds, next door to a Dragon’s lair, relying on a grumpy eight-year-old to talk to a mountain-goat, in order to find a secret entrance to some criminal stronghold. The whole thing was ridiculous. Dominic felt keenly, in his rapidly sinking heart, that they should turn around immediately, head back to Grok’s, and figure out something more sensible. This whole “Quest” didn’t seem all that glamorous anymore.

But going back would be like admitting failure, and failure was just not in Dominic’s vocabulary. “Put some elbow grease into it,” his father would have said. So, he gritted his teeth and faced his moody companion.

“It's okay Reilly, just try. Remember how you were telling me about Big Kitty? How you befriended her by first appreciating how magnificent she was?”

Reilly kicked at another hunk of ice, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze.

He gamely continued. “Well, look at that crazy mountain goat standing wayyyy up there. How the heck is it doing that anyway? It looks like it’s floating, but what’s really happening is that its hooves are finding the TINIEST little cracks and ledges and other irregularities in the rock. That's amazing! Don’t you think?”

He waited. Eventually, Reilly nodded.

“Yeah, exactly! And think of how brave those little goats must be! They’ve got no wings, no ropes; they don’t even have hands! But still, they climb right up there and run around, jumping from tiny ledge to tiny ledge, knowing they could easily fall to their deaths. These have to be the bravest creatures in all the worlds!”

Reilly listened, looking up at the little goat high above her.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll try. But it isn’t gonna work.”

But as soon as she attuned, the Flux leapt out, much like a goat leaping off a mountainside. It was so POWERFUL out here!

And then she was there, way up on the cliff face, feeling tiny hooves balancing on even tinier ledges and cracks. The goat’s legs flexed as it held on, the wind buffeting it, the landscape a dizzying verticality. She felt its hindquarters pulse as it leapt, sailing a good 15 paces across a crevice and down to a lower, practically invisible ledge. What a magnificent animal! It leapt again, and again, and again, from impossible-perch to impossible-perch until it was startlingly in front of her, staring with its hilarious alien eyes.

She giggled, reaching out a hand to pet its nose. The goat nuzzled back, sniffing. Just like Horsey!

It promptly bit her sleeve and started chewing. But she wasn’t scared. Goats eat everything. It’s simply in their nature.

Dominic slipped Reilly an apple, and its eyes lit up, craning its neck forward.

“Maaa-aaa-aaaaa!”

Reilly giggled, maaa-aaa-aaaa-ing right back. As the goat chewed, she talked to it, sharing images of the Hooded Man walking into the canyon, all black and secretive-looking. “Goaty, did you ever see this man?” she bleated, hoping that her attempt at goat-speech was comprehensible.

They’d gotten lucky. This was a particularly young, and naughty goat, ignoring the entreaties of its elders who were scolding it, telling it to stay higher, never trust strange creatures, especially Grounders. But this particular goat, bursting with curiousity and naive enough to still believe that even Grounders might be friendly, couldn’t help breaking the rules, just to see what would happen.

And it worked! She (the goat was a she, Reilly realized) understood her! She knew exactly where the Hooded Man went, describing the secret entranceway with bleats and nose snorts and ear wiggles and hoof stamps until Reilly understood, more or less.

According to her new friend, one of the larger boulders in the canyon, sitting right at the base of the cliff, had a narrow crevice underneath it. Hoodie would crawl into that, and not come out again for many days. In front of this boulder, the snow was packed down a little so that it looked like an animal’s lair.

Before Reilly could ask any more questions, the goat’s ears perked up, her eyes widened, and she let out a piercing scream, red instantly spattering the snow around her. Reilly turned to Dominic, confused, then let out her own scream as a hail of arrows shot over the wall, clattering on the rocks and whistling into the snow. Dominic’s bow was already drawn, arrow nocked, as they ducked for cover.

The half-dog, half-tiny-dragon-like creatures were well concealed, but Dominic’s sharp eyes picked out several of them before they released their second volley. He swatted two arrows out of the air with his bow, the rest falling harmlessly into the snow. Luckily, Kobolds were pretty bad shots.

Scanning the terrain frantically, he could see the others already running toward the far end of the canyon, trying to gain whatever distance they could. “Reilly! RUN!” But Reilly had fallen to her knees, weeping, heedless of the danger.

The little goat lay in front of her, bleating hysterically, an arrow in its back, eyes wide with terror, hind legs twitching uselessly. Reilly, out of her mind with grief, wailed, “I'm sorry Goaty! I'm sorry!”

“Reilly! Come ON!” Dominic grabbed her arm and hauled her bodily through the snow, dragging her over the rocks, while she twisted and screamed and fought to stay with the dying goat.

They caught up to Melkorn quickly, who was struggling with his footing, falling, getting up, taking a few steps, then falling again. It was just too slippery, the ground too uneven, and with his new armour the challenge was simply beyond him.

The Kobolds had stopped firing, although Dominic could see them scurrying along the top of the ridge, heading deeper into the canyon, not in any particular hurry, knowing their quarry were running into a dead-end. Dominic took advantage of the pause, setting Reilly on the ground and shaking her until her tear-filled eyes looked at him, angrily.

“We just LEFT HER!” she screamed, baring her teeth, looking for a moment like a wild animal about to lunge at his face.

“We had to Reilly! We had to! Or we would have died too!” he yelled back, although in truth, he was shaken. He felt terrible, the poor creature’s tortured wailing still echoing through the canyon as it thrashed in the snow. But what else could they do?

Behind them, at ground level, he could hear a chorus of yips and growls. A second squad, on the ground level, was closing on them, furry backs zigzagging between the boulders. In seconds they would be swarmed.

“Reilly!” he yelled, inches from her face. “If that goat told you anything, you need to help us. NOW!” Then he turned, planted his feet in the snow, and started firing, as fast he could. The canyon was filled with snarling bodies, churning through the snow. One after another, he brought them down, but he already knew there was no stopping the whole pack.

Reilly wiped the tears out of her eyes, trying to block out Goaty’s terrible screams as they richocheted off her heart. They were, after all, still connected, heart-to-heart. That little goat was struggling with all her might to stay alive, and Reilly felt the pain, the desperation, the terror of imminent death. This saved her, cleared her mind just enough to focus, and she looked around wildly. There it was! The boulder! She pointed, but Dominic couldn’t see, focused as he was on the wave of furry bodies about to bury them.

Miraculously, Melkorn understood, picked Reilly right up, and threw her like a ball toward the boulder, then roared to the others still running ahead. “FOLLOW REILLY! SHE FOUND IT!”

Lumbering after Reilly, he lost his footing and plowed into the snow as another volley of arrows pelted down. Most fell harmlessly, a few smacking into his backpack, and a few others bouncing off his armour as he struggled back to his feet, eyes focused on the little hole Reilly had already slid into.

Dominic was a whirlwind, firing at the Kobolds on the cliff, then spinning to shoot the lead ones on the ground, then back to the cliff, his senses blind to everything but the endless river of furry targets.

He didn’t even hear Kohra running toward him. She tackled him from behind at full sprint, launching both of them straight toward the Kobolds’ jaws. And…they disappeared, their stomachs wrenching, minds whirling as they were sucked into, and then through, a suffocating, hot, sulphurous void.