The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

abandoning, you must keep that memory close to your heart. It will be difficult, but perhaps the mountain may be appeased.”
    When he finishes speaking, Simon licks his lips and frowns. It is a while before he speaks.
    “So the reason the mountain chose to fight me, rather than the rest of you, is that I am compromised, whereas your hearts are clear?”
    Johan sits back and folds his arms. “Yes, you are compromised. Because of what you have done with Ralph, and because of what the mind-executioner was able to do inside you, you are vulnerable to mental attack. And the person you are within yourself, the person you were meant to be, is weaker.”

    Simon
    He swallowed. “So, I am not having the best of days. Did you have to tell me all this at once? Could you not have spread the bad news a little thinner?”
    Johan shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t have time to plan for what needs to be said. You simply have to accept it, and we will have to make the best of it. As much as we can. With whatever you bring us.”
    Simon flushed. He had meant to make light of what had happened, to ease the tension sweeping over him from the other man. Now he wished he’d simply been silent and was glad of the night sky to cover the heat of his skin. A few moments later, he heard a rustle and the swish of material, and the frames of Isabella and the boy came into view. The boy rushed towards him, and Simon felt in his mind the sparkle of delight in his greeting hug like a morning butterfly, dappled in the sun. It was good that someone at least was glad to see him well.
    “It’s all right,” Simon said, his throat still rough, the memory of stones still in his mouth. “It’s all right. You don’t have to worry.”

    Isabella
    Isabella places her calf-skin water flagon next to the fire. Johan touches her lightly on the arm but makes no comment. It doesn’t matter. Isabella knows he can’t read her thoughts. Hartstongue watches as she pours half a cup of water and then reaches into her robes, drawing out the herbs Gelahn gave her while the others slept on the mountain. She sprinkles them into the cup and offers it to the coward.
    “What is it?” he asks. His suspicions are justified but Isabella continues to smile.
    “Lavender,” she lies. “Johan believes it will ease your throat.”
    Nodding, Hartstongue drinks it down. “Thank you. You’re a good herbalist, Isabella.”
    She distracts him with words. “Like your mother then.”
    The scribe hesitates, shadows already passing over his face. “Yes.”
    He has no chance to say more. From the shadowed slopes to the left comes a wild howling, the echo of it rolling through the chilly air. Yes, it is beginning. In Hartstongue’s arms, the boy jumps and gasps.
    “What’s that?”
    With a swift movement, her brother douses the fire. It sputters once and fades. Then he grabs the scribe, pulling him and the boy to their feet.
    “Run,” he says to them all. “ Now .”

    Simon
    The howling rose again, this time closer. And it didn’t stop. Johan and Isabella began to run. Away from the rising sound and upwards towards the steeper part of the mountain. Beyond where the fire had been. Dark and brooding.
    Dragging the boy at his side, Simon stumbled after them, his heart beating wildly.
    Their companions reached the jagged mountain side and began to scrabble up, Isabella behind Johan now. Simon couldn’t see how they could find any hold on the sheer rock; or how he could possibly follow them.
    “We can’t do it,” he yelled. “ We can’t go that way .”
    You must.
    It was Johan’s voice in his thoughts, but Isabella who turned and gazed down at him. Simon pushed the boy, now sobbing, towards her. Nothing happened and her face grew dark. A moment later, she reached for him and he was snatched away. Upwards to safety. Thank the gods.
    The howling filled the scribe’s ears and mind. It was unstoppable, the throb of it piercing flesh and bone and marrow, ransacking the mountain and all within it. The mountain itself a barrier preventing his escape.
    Whirling around, Simon’s back slammed against rock, his eyes darted from side to side over the ledge they’d been resting on only a few moments before. He didn’t know what might be pursuing them but he knew it wasn’t good. He could see nothing, only a darkness that was suddenly lighter due to the approaching sun. Had time gone by so swiftly? The howling was louder now, and this time it was accompanied by a brushing