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no way to make an objective reckoning. He sniffed the air, he listened and tasted and touched, seeking
for some sign of the portal's power. But he wasn't surprised to find no glimmer of a magical aura.
He did not take this as evidence of failure. Instead, he had anticipated this surely the power of such an
ancient and hallowed place would not be focused so directly that any dumb brute that wandered beneath
it would be affected. No, to reach the center of the arch's power, Gilthanas knew he would have to do
more.
He would have to climb.
For the first time he took stock of the arch's surroundings. He realized that other unnatural shapes
softened and masked by a permanent snow cover stood around him. In one place a great dome
mounded out of the icepack's surface, appearing too smooth and symmetrical to be anything but a
designed structure. Of course any outer surface it may have displayed was buried beneath millennia
worth of glacial accumulation.
Beyond the dome was the suggestion of a crooked wall, also smooth and icy on its exterior. Other
structures that might have been elaborate towers or giant statues were now buried beneath the ice,
though they still jutted upward enough to suggest imaginative design and incredible workmanship.
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Gilthanas walked a circle around the base of the arch a span with a diameter of nearly a thousand
paces. The body of the structure seemed to be a curving shaft of solid stone. Each footing was only
twenty or thirty feet across, and no broader than the trunk of a full-grown vallenwood tree. Yet these
pillars swept upward and in, somehow bearing the weight of a span that seemed to deny possibility. The
prince knew that no one in the world, not even the most skilled of dwarven stonemasons, could have built
anything resembling this in the modern era. He needed no further proof of the arch's origins this was
clearly an artifact of a long-vanished race, boasting workmanship of a quality lost to the world.
At the foot of one of the stone legs he saw that narrow steps had been carved into the surface. The
climb, especially at the beginning, looked to be treacherous and steep. Still, Gilthanas wasted no time in
dropping his satchel of treasures given to him by the gully dwarves. He wrapped his cloak around the
bundle and, wearing his sword in its sheath and using the soft boots on his feet, he started up the stone
stairway.
For its lower course this was more accurately a ladder, since the arch started out rising nearly straight up
into the air. The steps were only wide enough for his toes, but his fingers could cling to the higher notches
in the stone surface, and he made his way without a great deal of difficulty. Soon the wind began to whip
at him, and he felt the chill through his wool tunic, but he clung tightly to his handholds and made sure that
each foot was firmly planted before he advanced to the next step.
By the time he had risen a hundred feet above the surface of the glacier, the angle of incline had
decreased enough that Gilthanas could climb without the use of his hands. Even so, he remained hunched
forward, and as the wind rose to howling force, he frequently grabbed at the stone surface to steady
himself. He began to take note of the irregularities in the surface of the ice below the shrouded
structures of the ancient huldrefolk city.
This was not a ruin in the same sense as Purstal, where it was possible to guess at the nature of the
structures and clearly perceive their purposes. Here, any purposes eluded his understanding except,
perhaps, for one great bowl that might have served as some kind of amphitheater. Otherwise the walls,
domes, irregular shapes, and icy spires that extended for miles inland made no sense in the context of any
city Gilthanas had ever seen.
Finally he stood at the top of the arch, where he found a smooth platform no larger than the main table in
a typical inn. Like the rest of the arch, this flat expanse was clear of snow and ice a fact which, for the
first time, struck him as unusual. With a steady stride he walked to the center of the platform and turned
to face the sun. He spread his arms wide, braced himself against the wind buffeting him, and raised his
voice to the heavens.
"Silvara!" he cried. "I seek you! May the power of the arch fulfill my quest!"
He waited, feeling the chill of frostbite on his cheek, seeking some sensation of ancient power some
magic that would sweep him away from here. But he sensed no indication no smell or taste of an aura.
He listened, but the sound that reached his ear evoked a much earthier company.
"Jump!"
The word was followed by a hearty laugh the speaker apparently greatly enjoying his suggestion.
Immediately Gilthanas opened his eyes. Stepping forward, heedless of the long drop, he looked down to
see a trio of tiny figures standing in the snow below.
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"Jump!" shouted one of them, and this time all three bent over from the force of their fulsome guffaws.
"We'll catch you!" he hollered, spreading his great arms in an expansive, ludicrous gesture.
"Thanoi," muttered the elf, recognizing the tusked faces and the powerful and hulking bodies of the
walrus-men. His memories of the crude race were bad, dating back to his first quest on this glacier a
search for an orb of dragonkind that had brought him here more than forty years ago.
"Go away," he shouted in reply. "Or perhaps you'd care to catch one of my arrows!"
He tried the bluff, hoping that the creatures hadn't seen that he wasn't armed with a bow. He was
disappointed when they only laughed harder. "Are you going to throw them down? Perhaps we can catch
them in your pretty cloak!"
Now he saw that the largest of the walrus-men, the speaker and presumed leader, was holding out a
scarlet bundle. The other two pawed through the robe, howling as they picked up the elf's treasured
belongings.
Gilthanas flushed with rage. Not for the first time did he truly miss his magic, knowing that in years past
he could have unleashed his power on these insolent wretches to punish them thoroughly while barely
batting his own eyes from the effort. Gritting his teeth, he checked that his sword was loose in its
scabbard and started back down the stairs he had ascended
Only then did he stop and reflect. He had felt no power no arcane effect atop the arch but he had [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]