The sharp sting of memories clung to Kairu as he dressed in his winter coat, stepped through the loose, crunching snow, exited the gate, and led the Hellsteed by the reins along a barely visible trail heading north. The whiteness of sky and plain was blinding, the Olmaer Ridge loomed ahead, and a flat, oppressive silence hung in the air.

  They had left the next morning, after spending just one night in the small house, sprawled out on chairs, cots, and even the floor, wrapped in their coats. They checked their packs several times, bundled provisions and tied them to the Hellsteeds’ saddles, and set off, trying not to draw attention. But their departure wasn’t unusual. Many were fleeing north, some with carts, others with nothing more than a bagpack.

  By evening, as the sky turned dark blue and overcast, the tiny window of the Winter Day tavern appeared on the horizon. Rita knocked on the door, under which the wind had piled a considerable snowdrift, and just like two years ago, a sleepy voice called out, "Who’s there?"

  "Take a wild guess, Frans," Rita muttered under her breath. The door creaked and slowly, heavily opened. Frans, with gray stubble and shaggy sideburns, looked up in astonishment, still rubbing his eyes as if unsure whether he was seeing ghosts.

  "Miss Rita?" he blurted out stupidly.

  "One night," said Rita. "Twelve people. Can you manage?"

  "I can manage." The tavernkeeper scratched his head, quickly collecting himself. His natural cool-headedness wouldn’t let him stay surprised for long. He stepped aside to let the travelers in. The tavern welcomed them with the heat from a huge hearth and the smell of beer and roasted meat. The hall was empty, no other guests that night. Frans called for his assistant, and together they brought out food, clustered tables, and arranged twelve stools. The travelers had already stripped off their coats and outer layers. Frans sat nearby, watching them eat. Then, unable to hold back even a couple minutes of silence broken only by the clinking of cutlery, he said thoughtfully:

  "It’s been a while, Miss Rita. I rarely go to Petista myself—my workers handle the shopping—but last year rumors started flying around the city. Everyone knows you as the best guide around, and it’s dangerous now in the Olmaer. There’s war to the south, and bandits might come from the north. And then you—poof—disappear. People talked a lot… but no one knew where you’d really gone… They said…"

  "Don’t listen to them, Frans," Rita interrupted. "Don’t listen to rumors. Everyone has their business. Mine happened to drag me all over the world. Where I went isn’t your concern."

  "Of course, Miss Rita! I was just curious… You have every right. Heading back to the mountains for healing herbs again, I bet? It’s been two years, but I remember. You’re traveling with cloaks, packs, horses, and carts…"

  "You could say that," Atgard grunted. "As for the war in the south, you should be careful. You too, Frans, better wrap up your business and get out to Vaimar. Any day now, Petista could be nothing but ashes. I fear you’ll have far too many guests soon. A flood of them…"

  "We won’t stay long—we’ve got things to do up north," added Viggo. "We’ll sleep here and head to the mountains. Just pack your things and keep a good horse ready—so if anything happens, you’re over the pass and safe."

  "Well, I suppose you know best." Frans fell silent, then sighed. "Still, maybe you shouldn’t go back up there. Who knows what to expect from those mountains anymore?"

  "Petista is far less safe than the mountains," Rita countered. "The garrison’s been expecting an attack for six months now, and there’s been no word from Mainor in a long time. I’d be more afraid to stay in the Western Province than to climb Rokastr. Pirates won’t dare set foot up there…"

  "Pirates?" Frans repeated. "Well, it seems you really do know more than I do about what’s going on down south. Pirates…" He fell silent again, then added unexpectedly:

  "Well, I don’t know about pirates—you’d know better. But I can tell you something about the mountains. A week ago, three figures passed by this tavern. Not men, not beasts. I nearly died of fright when one of them spoke. Huge, cloaked, armored, with swords and pistols, their faces green, tusked, and snouted. One of them knocked in the middle of the night. I opened the door, and their leader looked at me like he could pin me to the ground with a spear. I couldn’t move. He asked about you, Miss Rita—also about a certain Mister Yuffilis Lainter, about Miss Ashley Nielder, someone named Joanna, and Kairu Kenai… And he gave very detailed descriptions, I must say." Frans glanced at Joanna and Kairu. "Naturally, I told him I’d last seen Rita in the spring, and never met the others. No matter how he pressed me, I couldn’t tell him more than I knew. He just growled and left. Headed north, toward the mountains."

  The travelers were stunned. Frans looked from one face to another, clearly intrigued. Finally, Kairu said:

  "Well, that’s for the best. At least our enemies are ahead of us, and not behind. Let’s hope he doesn’t know why we’re really heading north… Thanks for the hospitality, Frans. We’ll go upstairs."

  "Good night," the tavernkeeper replied, a bit disappointed, then sighed and clinked mugs as he carried them back to the bar.

  "Goblins?" Viggo asked the moment the door of their small upstairs room shut behind them. "So Saelin tracked us down?"

  "Looks like it," Atgard said, scratching his head. "Though honestly, it wouldn’t have been hard. He probably knew we weren’t in Onklag a week after we left. We wouldn’t have dared hide in Mainor with the diamond. It’s easy to guess, that out next step would be to obtain the Star of Vaimar. Thirty years ago Petros went after it through Petista and then further into Vaimar. No need to be genius to deduce that we would take the same route."

  The women went to the next room, which Frans reserved for them, while the men dispersed into the other two rooms and lay down, some on the beds, others directly on the floor. Kairu covered himself with a fur coat, tossing on the hard wooden boards, unable to fall asleep, wondering what awaited them on Darius…

  …He saw snow and ice… a dark, frosty sky with twinkling stars, almost felt the touch of the raging icy wind blowing there. Towering mountains loomed behind him, and in the narrow gorge between them reigned darkness. From a great height, Kairu saw a deep chasm, icy blocks like jagged teeth at the edge of the crevice, and two figures far below. Atgard and Norton, both with rifles, were desperately shooting at horrific winged creatures—human-like bodies with enormous bat wings on their backs… Then Norton turned and ran. Atgard remained. The creatures swarmed him, and suddenly, raising his rifle, he fired at a pile of rocks above the gorge's edge. There was an explosion, the ice collapsed—and Kairu plunged into darkness…

  He lay there, clutching the fur coat with trembling hands, biting his lip until it hurt, barely suppressing a scream trying to burst out. It was cold, the window panes were covered in frost patterns, and beyond them, a white snowy morning glowed. The vision was so vivid that it refused to leave his mind. He curled up, trying to warm himself, and then noticed that Yuf was already sitting in the corner on a chair, wrapped in a fur cloak.

  "Awake?" he asked quietly. "Then get dressed and go downstairs. Frans will serve breakfast. Rita and Atgard are already there. I’ll wake the others. We need to get out of here as soon as possible."

  Breakfast passed in silence. The fire in the hearth barely crackled, Rita bent over the map again, and Frans leaned on his counter, looking bored.

  "Cold today," he remarked.

  "Yeah…" Atgard sighed.

  "Did you hear what went on during the night? I woke up and went out—it was blazing in the south, where Petista is. The sky was lit up. Noise, rumbling… lasted for about three hours, then it went quiet. I'm thinking—was that for you?"

  Frans was far too perceptive, Kairu had already noticed.

  "Could be," Atgard muttered. "I heard it too. Maybe just a fire. Or maybe… death is following close behind us."

  "Pirates?" Rita suggested grimly.

  "Let’s hope not. But either way, it no longer concerns us."

  The rest soon joined them. Yuf and Atgard hurried and urged everyone along, while Frans sighed and helped load a sack of dried fruit and meat into the wagon. Ashley had bought it from him after withdrawing a pile of gold from her bank account in Petista. Overnight, even more snow had fallen, but the morning was clear, and the mountains rose sharply nearby. The Hellsteeds trudged slowly, sinking into the fresh crust, and behind them, a column of smoke drifted into the sky from Petista…

  By noon, they reached the entrance to the Folkar’s Pass. Around them were campfire remnants, trash, and very fresh footprints.

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  "Refugees passed through here recently," Kairu muttered, looking around. "Alright, no time to waste. Rita, do you remember the way?"

  "Yes," Rita said. "As if it were yesterday. But the horses will have to stay here… and the wagons, of course."

  "And with the horses and wagons, me and Atgard," Ashley said with a smirk. "Why should us old folks be scrambling through the mountains with you young ones? You’ll come back and tell us everything."

  "We’ll stay too," Demetra added, and Rodrigo silently nodded.

  "Perfect," Kairu said. "Let’s go."

  They trudged to a barely visible trail winding upward among rocks and cliffs, leading to the steep slope of Rokastr. Within minutes, when Kairu looked back, he saw only four small dots below, standing near the wagons and horses—and the trail led ever further along Rokastr’s slope, revealing a gorge bathed in dim light and the even ridges of mountains stretching far eastward, fading into the mist of clouds. The ground was now far out of reach. Ahead lay only the icy, stinging wind, the sky, and the peak of Rokastr. It felt like flying on the back of Daredevil, only much slower. And in the east, where the mountains looked no larger than river pebbles and melted into the horizon, a white sun was slowly rising, illuminating the endless snowy plain, on the edge of which Petista appeared as a tiny speck…

  "Look!" Anzerrat shouted.

  There were campfires. Hundreds of tiny red dots scattered around the city, with smoke rising to form a giant ashen cloud. Even from here, Kairu could make out thousands of tiny figures merging into a solid mass. He had no doubt, that it was the soldiers of Tepei-Kuon… A long line of people stretched past the Winter Day tavern, heading toward the pass. They weren’t walking—they were running, panicked, trying to save what little they’d managed to load onto wagons, pack into bundles, and carry in backpacks…

  It was the final blow. The most horrific blow. A blow that marked the fall of Aktida. The last, most brutal battle of a war that had dragged on for a year and a half. A battle in which all defenders of Petista died to the last man, the wounded and those who had miraculously survived were slaughtered, and the city burned to the ground. Kairu froze, unable to tear his gaze from the city that had still been alive just yesterday, and now the last survivors were fleeing, leaving dead Petista behind.

  How had this happened? How had Saelin’s fist, supposedly locked within the Southern and Eastern provinces, managed in just over two months to reach as far as the northern capital and destroy it, just as it had destroyed Nalvin and Boreain? And what had happened to Aktida’s army, if it had allowed this force to reach the north? And what was happening now in the south, in Mainor, in the royal palace? Who now gave orders from the throne? The travelers didn’t know. All they could do was guess what would come next—for there was no way back. Only one path remained: Vaimar.

  "Anzerrat, Norton," Kairu said quietly. "Go down to the wagons. Soon the refugees will reach the pass, they’ll need to be guided to the other side. Demetra and Rodrigo know the way, and you’ll protect the people. Wait for us once you’ve brought them to Vairad. We’ll meet in Vaimar. Yuf, Viggo, Remiz, Rita, Joanna—you’re with me. To Darius."

  Without argument, Anzerrat and Norton rushed downhill. Kairu turned and looked up, toward the peak of Rokastr, wrapped in clouds.

  "Now we go."

  The sun climbed higher and higher, but the peak remained just as distant. Kairu barely remembered his previous ascent of this mountain, but now he had to relive the experience of climbing to such a height—from the icy wind swirling freely in the sky, to the thin air that made breathing hard, dizziness, headaches, and hellish cold. His fur cloak kept him warm, but his face froze, he could no longer feel his nose. The snow crumbled under his gloves, blowing in his face in a fine spray as he climbed the steepest parts, helping himself with his hands. Then suddenly, the clouds were all around them, and the travelers moved upward through thick milky fog, and Kairu could only navigate by the rustling of Rita’s cloak ahead. At one moment, he froze in fear when he felt his foot step into empty space… Then the bright sunlight blinded him, and he followed Rita, hearing Viggo’s heavy breathing behind him. Around them stretched a blue expanse lit by sunlight, and a boundless sea of clouds from which snow-covered mountain peaks rose like islands.

  And just a few dozen feet above, the entrance to that very cave was already visible. Kairu instinctively drew his sword, remembering the massive yeti, but when they approached, they saw that the cave was empty, and the frozen animal carcasses that once lay along the walls had disappeared along with the den’s owner. The travelers slowly stepped inside.

  "So this is what it looked like," Yuf muttered, glancing around. "From your stories, I imagined this place differently... Hard to believe that I’m about to walk the same path you did."

  Kairu smirked, helping Viggo shift the lid of the hatch that had frozen to the floor. Together, they managed to drag it aside, revealing a dark staircase leading into shadow. Rita lit a torch and was the first to descend the dusty steps.

  In a small ravine, at the bottom of which lay the mirror-like surface of a lake, they stepped onto snow-dusted stones. In the middle of a small clearing lay the half-collapsed skeleton of a massive turand—Yuf even whistled in amazement. The raft could be seen on the other side, ripples dancing on the water from the wind, and opposite them, in a niche under the cliff, stood the open doors of the shrine. And here, on this shore, a wave of memories swept over Kairu. About how he had left his father in the village, about the battle with snow wolves during a terrible blizzard near Petista, about the fight with the sea turand, about the shrine hall where they found the Lake of Aktida, and the crypt where Kairu saved Rita from the lich’s fangs… About his first battle at Nalvin, the autumn of 1453, the abandoned house, and his father’s body. About life in besieged Mainor, how he and Woody ended up in prison, and their unexpected rescue… How he had shivered in fear in the sewers of Mainor and fought off a giant rat on the bank of the Ilvion River with frozen hands. About his first victory, the first attempt to infiltrate Saelin’s castle… and Rita, unconscious in his arms.

  They stood on the shore of that still lake, gazing into the abyss of dark water.

  "What did the book say again?.." Yuf said thoughtfully. "And for the one who seeks this path, the signs will be given in the place where Darius and Octarus shall be kept…"

  "It’s time to return to where it all began," Kairu said with a smirk.

  Joanna closed her eyes, raised her hands, moved her lips, and everyone felt the air in front of her palms thicken and vibrate. The raft on the far side of the lake stirred, slid from the shore, and began drifting toward them. A few minutes later, they were standing on the raft, cautiously paddling across toward the sanctuary entrance. Once again, they passed beneath the entrance arch, lit their torches, descended the stairs, passed the statue of the old man with a sword and a book, walked down the corridor whose walls faintly glowed with magical stones, and reached a junction.

  "To the left was the hall where the Lake of Aktida was kept," Rita said. "To the right—a prayer room. But we’ve never gone forward. Shall we risk it?"

  "Be careful," Kairu warned. "There might still be traps left here, like the moving floor tiles…"

  Rita flinched, recalling that horrifying day two years ago.

  "There are no more traps," Joanna said quietly.

  "Are you sure?" Kairu glanced at her doubtfully, and the others looked at her in surprise. "Have you been here before?"

  "No. I’ve never been here. But I scanned the area. I can detect traces of protective magic, and there’s none here. Let’s go."

  They moved forward. The corridor was narrow and low, turning at right angles several times. Occasionally, they found arched doorways leading to small rooms. Those were empty chambers, the walls covered in hieroglyphs and drawings: unknown animals, people, centaurs, goblins, and massive beings that Kairu guessed were likely representations of gods... He tried, unsuccessfully, to decipher the meaning of some images. They seemed to depict some kind of technical devices he’d never seen before. He could recognize wheels, gears, pulley systems, but then there were extremely strange objects that resembled nothing he had ever encountered.

  Then the corridor ended, and they entered the final chamber. A faint hum echoed, and a cold greenish-blue light flared around them: in the corners of the hall, slender columns of translucent stone lit up. In the magical glow, a vaulted ceiling came into view, covered in frescoes. In the center of the hall stood a tall stone stele, its edges also lined with glowing stone.

  "The Sun and the Kraken…" Rita murmured. "Do you see it?"

  Now Kairu saw it too. A carving was etched in stone, realistically depicting a sun wrapped in tentacles, some of which intertwined with its rays, forming a bizarre pattern. Below was a lithograph showing an island in the sea with waves, dotted with simplified images of trees; at the center of the island stood a mountain, and on its peak—a building, with a line of people in monk’s robes ascending the slope. At the bottom were several hieroglyphs. Rita, in a trembling, fragile voice, read the lines aloud, tracing them with her finger:

  "The First Temple. Island of Darius." And next to it: 65.44.

  "Island of Darius…" Yuf murmured. "Never heard of it."

  "Me neither," Remiz admitted. "Among the Rikutiam Islands, there’s definitely no such place—I’d know, and I can name every one of the thousand islands because they all have names. Among the Northern Islands, which lie on the same latitude as Vaimar, there’s no such island either. I have no idea where it could be."

  "And the numbers?" Kairu asked.

  "I think they’re coordinates," Remiz said, pointing to one of the hieroglyphs. "Rita, do you know what this symbol means?"

  "Never seen it before," the girl replied, shaking her head.

  "It’s used in nautical charts to mark latitude. Latitude 65.44. The prime meridian passes through Mainor, but I must say that 65.44 is very, very far west. Farther than the westernmost Rikutiam islands."

  "And longitude?" Yuf asked.

  "There’s none here. Looks like there was space for it, but it was deliberately left out."

  "Then we’ll find the longitude in the shrine where Octarus is stored," Kairu said.

  Rita carefully sketched the image and the hieroglyphs onto paper, rolled it into a tube, placed it in a glass cylinder, and sealed it with a cork.

  Half an hour later, they were once again standing on the shore of the lake, staring in awe at the water, where gentle ripples still spread in even circles. The sun had already vanished, the lake was cloaked in twilight, but the peaks of the nearby mountains were still tinted pink, though gradually darkening as dusk descended over the Olmaer Ridge. It was extraordinarily quiet.

  The steps leading upward seemed endless. They stopped several times to rest during the exhausting ascent. Kairu barely remembered how he emerged from the yeti’s cave and leaned against a rock on the open ledge, breathing in the mountain air…

  He still didn’t understand anything, nor was he sure of the correctness of his actions. He felt that trying to look into the future now was futile. The uncertainty and the unknown surrounding them on all sides were too great, and it was as if he were walking a tightrope over a chasm of uncertainty… But at least now, they had a plan.

  And that gave him hope.