Chapter 38 The Path To The Ancient Home
The procession departed the northern keep at midday under a sky heavy with low clouds. Fernando rode at the head of a small column of twenty wolves, mounted on a sturdy gray stallion that bore his weight without faltering. Mira rode beside him on a smaller mare, her saddlebags stuffed with jars of herbs, salves, and sealed vials of draughts. Ten guards flanked them, their horses laden with supplies, while six pack horses followed, carrying provisions for a month: dried meat, hard bread, barrels of salted fish, and casks of fresh water. Two scouts rode ahead, ensuring the trail remained clear.
Fernando turned to Mira as they passed through the outer gate. “How long is the journey?”
“Three days by horse, if the weather holds,” Mira replied. “The ancient home lies in the high valley beyond the Ironspine Ridge. The path is steep but well marked.”
One of the guards, a lean wolf named Kael, rode up from the rear. “The supplies are secure. We carry enough to sustain twenty for forty days without resupply.”
Fernando nodded. “We will not linger longer than necessary. Once I am restored, we return.”
The trail wound upward from the valley floor, following a narrow track flanked by sheer granite walls. The first day passed without incident, the only sounds the creak of leather saddles and the muffled thud of hooves on packed earth. As evening approached, the column reached a sheltered plateau where a stream cut through the rock.
Mira dismounted and addressed Fernando. “We make camp here. The water is clean, and the plateau is defensible.”
Fernando swung down from his horse. “Set watches. Four on at all times.”
The guards moved efficiently, erecting canvas shelters around a central fire pit and distributing rations. Mira approached Fernando with a steaming cup. “Drink this. It contains bloodroot and willow bark to ease the strain on the bond.”
Fernando took the cup and drank without comment. “Does the separation from Alberto weaken the bond further?”
“It creates the necessary distance,” Mira said. “His wolf perceives the absence as a partial severance, which halts its attempts to break the connection entirely. But you must still remain within the bond’s range. Too much distance, and the poison resurges.”
Fernando handed the empty cup back to her. “How do I force a full recovery?”
“The ancient home holds resources unavailable in the keep,” Mira replied. “Ritual pools fed by hot springs that purge lingering toxins. Chambers lined with moonstone that stabilize spiritual fractures. You immerse yourself there, and the bond has a chance to settle.”
A guard approached with a report. “The perimeter is secure. No tracks or scents on the wind.”
Fernando nodded. “Maintain the watches. We move at first light.”
The second day brought harsher terrain. The trail climbed the Ironspine Ridge, where the path narrowed to a single file between cliffs rising hundreds of feet on either side. Loose scree forced the horses to pick their steps with care, and the air grew thin enough to shorten every breath.
Mira rode close to Fernando. “The ridge is the most difficult part of the journey. Once we pass the summit, the trail descends into the high valley.”
Fernando kept his gaze fixed ahead. “How secure is the ancient home?”
“It is inaccessible except by this path,” Mira said. “The valley mouth is sealed by a natural choke point that requires three wolves working in concert to pass. The home itself sits within a ring of standing stones that dampen all external scents and sounds. No enemy has ever breached it.”
Kael rode up from the rear again. “The pack horses are holding, but the climb slows them. We will reach the summit before nightfall.”
Fernando turned in his saddle. “Push them as far as they can go. We do not stop until we are over the ridge.”
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, the column crested the summit. The guards called a halt at a wide ledge where the trail leveled briefly before beginning its descent. The pack horses were unsaddled and watered, and the wolves ate a cold meal of jerked meat and hard bread.
Mira handed Fernando a small pouch containing dried leaves. “Chew these. They ease the strain of altitude.”
Fernando took the pouch. “How soon until we reach the valley?”
“By midday tomorrow,” Mira replied. “The descent is steeper than the climb but shorter.”
One of the scouts returned from ahead. “The lower trail is clear. No signs of passage in weeks.”
Fernando gave the order to proceed. The column began the descent into the high valley, the cliffs falling away to reveal glimpses of the enclosed basin below. Darkness overtook them before they reached level ground, forcing a second camp in a sheltered hollow.
The third morning broke clear and cold. The trail leveled out and followed a rushing stream into the heart of the valley. By noon, the column approached the choke point: a narrow defile flanked by massive boulders that left only a single gap barely wide enough for two horses abreast.
Mira dismounted and addressed the guards. “Three of you must work the mechanism. The others hold position.”
Three wolves stepped forward and placed their hands against a barely visible pattern of grooves in the nearest boulder. They pushed in unison, and stone ground against stone as a concealed slab within the rock slid open, widening the passage.
Fernando rode through first, followed by Mira and the remaining guards. Once the column had passed, the three wolves sealed the gap behind them.
The valley opened before them, a bowl of green surrounded by sheer peaks. At its center stood the ancient home: a low, sprawling structure of weathered granite blocks, partially embedded in the mountainside. Its walls were studded with translucent slabs of moonstone that caught the sunlight and diffused it into a steady, pale glow. A series of terraced pools steamed gently on one side, their surfaces rippling with mineral-laden waters.
Mira dismounted. “This is the sanctuary.”
Fernando surveyed the structure. “How do we begin?”
“You enter the ritual pools,” Mira said. “The waters draw out the remaining poison and stabilize the bond. The moonstone chambers reinforce spiritual integrity. It is a slow process, but consistent immersion will purge what remains.”
Kael oversaw the unloading of supplies. “The provisions will sustain us. The valley is self-contained with fish in the stream and edible roots in the terraces.”
Fernando dismounted. “Establish a perimeter. No wolf leaves the valley without my order.”
Mira led him toward the nearest pool, where steam rose in fragrant curls. “The first immersion begins now.”
Fernando removed his cloak and descended the steps into the water. The heat seeped into his bones, and the bond within him steadied slightly, as though the minerals in the pool buffered the spiritual strain.
Mira stood at the edge. “You remain here until the poison is fully purged. The ancient home exists for this purpose.”
Fernando settled into the water. “Then we begin.”
The guards established their posts around the sanctuary, securing the valley and preparing for the weeks of isolation to come.