Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [69]
Finally, as if of a single accord, they rose, shouldered their packs, and started into the pass.
Aphalion was much different from Declan Reach. The latter was twisty and narrow, and the terrain through the cliffs much more uneven. Aphalion was a broad, wide passage between a pair of towering peaks that shut out all but a narrow band of sky, the rock dropping away from the highest points overhead in straight, black curtains. The trail leading through twice angled sharply, once right and once left, but otherwise did not vary. Huge sections of stone that had split off the cliff walls in times past lay in massive shards, but did not entirely block the way. The wind, as it blew across the gap overhead, was a mournful howl that refused to let up, its cry like that of a creature in misery.
When they were deep into the pass, Tasha, who was in the lead, brought them to a halt, and they huddled close.
“This is where the pass has been closed in times past!” He had to shout to be heard as he gestured ahead of them. “Before, there was fog and darkness too heavy to penetrate! All that’s gone! I think the wall has failed here, too! But we’ll see!”
He turned away and started ahead once more, the others following. Almost at once the rain returned, sweeping down out of the split between the peaks in long, hard streamers that felt almost like waterfalls as they struck the travelers. Panterra was soaked in seconds, even with his heavy travel cloak for protection. He stumbled under the weight of the beating he was taking, only barely managing to keep himself upright. Ahead, Phryne went down, collapsing on her hands and knees, head lowered. Pan reached her in seconds, pulled her to him and straightened her up. Once on her feet, she glanced at him and nodded, and he released his grip. She went on without a word.
Now the wind was howling with fresh determination, the sound so overwhelming that it was all Pan could do not to put his hands over his ears. The five pushed ahead, but the effort it required increased and their progress slowed. Time ceased to have meaning, blown away in the wind, buried in wild sound.
Just ahead, there within the brume’s roiling curtains, as faint and shadowy as a dim memory, something moved.
Prue must have seen it first, or at least sensed the danger, because she was racing ahead to catch up to Tasha, grabbing at his arm and gesturing. The others closed the gap, coming together just as the shadowy form suddenly blossomed into something much larger and more formidable. It seemed to unfold right in front of them, gaining size and weight. They stood frozen in place as they saw it grow, their weapons already drawn and held ready.
Tasha gestured them back with frantic movements, his big frame flattening against the stone of the cliff wall. Panterra tried to penetrate the concealing gloom to see what was there, but could not manage it.
Then the shadow surged into view with frightening quickness, lurching out of mist and rain and darkness, rising up to assume monolithic proportions and suddenly Pan could see clearly what they had stumbled upon, and the words were a cold, silent whisper in his head.
A dragon!
FOURTEEN
PANTERRA QU HAD NEVER SEEN A DRAGON. BUT HE knew what they were from tales he’d heard as a child, and he knew enough of how they looked to recognize one when he saw it. What he wasn’t prepared for was how really terrifying it would be. It was a massive beast, squat and bulky through its midsections, but its neck and limbs long and sinewy. Scales covered its body in armored plates, and its back and tail were ridged with spikes. When it swung its head toward him, Pan could see bony protrusions on its snout, a beard hanging from its lower jaw, and teeth the size of his forearm protruding from its maw. It was black and slick with moisture, and its eyes