Crown of Fire - Ed Greenwood [72]
Overhead, the sun had passed its height, and was beginning the long slide toward sunset. As she squinted at it, Narm voiced the thought that had just come into her own mind.
"I'm not liking the idea of camping in this, somewhere on the side of a rockfall," Narm said to Mirt.
"How much farther is it to this gate of yours?"
"If we keep on steadily," Mirt told him gravely, "we should reach it just before nightfall."
Narm rolled his eyes. "Nightfall," he said. "Of course." The old merchant-as usual, Delg reflected sourly proved to be right. The sun was low and the depths of the ravines shrouded in purple shadows when Mirt pointed to a tiny spur of rock in the distance. "Irondrake," he said simply, and hastened on.
Despite the chill breezes of twilight, they were all sweating as they clambered up, over, down and through seemingly endless rocks.
Narm could well believe what he'd heard of brigands evading armies of Cormyr in this tortured land; half a hundred men could be waiting on the other side of every ridge, and you'd never know it until ySuddenly wary, Norm swallowed and suspiciously checked the terrain around them.
Delg, who was climbing in his wake, grunted. "About time you started being scared, lad," the dwarf said. His tones told Narm the dwarf had just deemed him not quite a complete idiot-but still damnedbefore-all-the-gods close. The young mage sighed and looked at Shandril. The sight of her always cheered him.
As it happened, there weren't a hundred armed brigands waiting around the next ridge. Instead, a grassy meadow opened out in front of them, rising steeply up to tumbled rocks at the base of a lancelike pinnacle of stone. The fire of sunset blazed down one side of this rocky spire.
"Irondrake Rock," Mirt announced as if he'd just put it there himself. "Named for a great wyrm that once laired here." 'Once?" Delg asked suspiciously.
Mirt chuckled and pointed a thick finger at the base of The toothlike spire of stone. "Its grotto lies there, if ye've a mind for fool-headed poking about. Perhaps, if it'd make ye sleep easier, Shan'll hurl a little spellfire in there-and singe whatever calls it home now."
The dwarf squinted up at the stone spire. Save for the calls of birds in the trees below and behind them, all was quiet around it. The tall grass of the meadow, studded with weeds and wildflowers, looked as if nothing had disturbed it all this season. Even so, Delg didn't care much for the way stony walls rose on either side of them to hem the meadow in, forming a great funnel that lead only upward to the Rock.
But he could see no sign of danger. Yet.
Grumbling into his beard, Delg led the way up through the thick grass toward the rocky spire. "Where's this gate of yours, then?"
Mirt grimaced. "At the very top-of course."
"You'd need the luck of the gods to get to it in winter," Delg replied, staring up at the crumbling flanks of Irondrake Rock.
Shandril followed his gaze, and swallowed. She'd have to climb that? She turned to Narm and found in his face the same growing alarm she felt. Without thinking, they threw comforting arms about each other.
"Last light," Delg said sourly. "Little as I like camping anywhere in these lands, we'd never get more than halfway up before it'd be too dark to climb-even without the two lovejays, here." He cocked his head at Narm and Shandril. "they looked back at him with identical expressions that told Delg he might have problems getting them to climb Irondrake Rock even in full sun, and with a whole day to do it Delg turned back to Mirt. "Where exactly does this gate of yours take us, anyway?"
"A certain place in the High Forest, south of Stone Stand," Mirt replied, his eyes on the cliffs around them.
"Shall we look at the cave?"
Delg nodded. "After I've looked around behind the Rock first, and had a bit of a peer at those ledges above us, too-or we may find ourselves attacked both