Spellweaver

By Tamara Grantham

Olive's to-do list: Pay the rent, feed the cat, save Faythander. Again.
When the fairy realm faces a new, terrifying threat from a goblin Spellweaver, Olive Kennedy leaves her home in Houston to travel through the most dangerous places in Faythander in order to confront him. While there, she learns that history is a muddled subject, especially when elves are involved. Her only comfort comes from Kull, her Viking warrior sidekick—who somehow negates her bad fortune. Yet how long can their relationship last when his past is brought to light? Olive will be tested beyond anything she has endured so far as the secrets of Faythander's sordid and bloody past are exposed—one that could irrevocably alter the future and destroy the lives of everyone she loves.
Perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas, Spellweaver is the riveting sequel to the award-nominated Dreamthief. Amazon reviewers are raving.
"Spellweaver is every bit as gripping and enigmatic as its predecessor." -Leah Alvord, Amazon Reviewer.
"Tamara Grantham's Midas touch has worked its charm again." -Courtney, The Moral of Our Stories.
If you love fantasy, don't miss this irresistible read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CTP Publishing
• Release date: Nov 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781634221610

Tamara Grantham

Tamara Grantham is the award-winning author of more than a dozen books and novellas, including the Olive Kennedy: Fairy World MD series and the Shine novellas. Dreamthief, the first book of her Fairy World MD series, won first place for fantasy in Indiefab's Book of the Year Awards, a Rone award for best New Adult Romance of 2016, and is a #1 bestseller on Amazon with over 200 five-star reviews. She has recently signed with Clean Teen Publishing for a fairytale retelling trilogy. Tamara holds a bachelor's degree in English. She has been a featured speaker at numerous writing conferences and a panelist at Comic Con Wizard World speaking on the topic of female leads. For her first published project, she collaborated with New York-Times bestselling author, William Bernhardt, in writing the Shine series. Born and raised in Texas, Tamara now lives with her husband and five children in Wichita, Kansas. She rarely has any free time, but when the stars align, and she gets a moment to relax, she enjoys reading, taking nature walks, and watching every Star Wars or Star Trek movie ever made.

Book preview

Chapter One

I’m cursed with bad luck. There were no spells or evil fairy godmothers involved in said curse, and although I know plenty of people with magical powers who had motive and opportunity, I’m certain they never placed a jinx on me. Yet my life always seems to follow one principle—if things can go wrong, they will. Murphy’s Law.

But I have one thing working in my favor.

Kull, my Viking warrior sidekick, somehow negates my bad fortune. I call it his dumb luck. Whenever things go wrong, he makes them right. I have no explanation for this.

I sat with the Wult scouts in the pixie land swamps. The bonfire popped sparks of red and orange as a slow-moving, moldy-smelling breeze gusted past. We’d been tracking Kull’s sister, Heidel, for two weeks. Several times I’d debated turning back, but Kull made me stay. I had no other reason to keep traveling with the Wults.

There’s no blood in it, Brodnik said, his hand fisted around a drumstick. How can we eat flesh that’s burnt this way? He pointed the charred drumstick at me. She’s overcooked it.

Take it easy, I replied. I’m a doctor, not a chef. Star Trek references went right over their heads, so using them gave me endless amounts of amusement.

You’ve ruined the whole meal.

Kull stiffened. Hold your tongue, Brodnik. I won’t allow you to speak to her that way.

But we’ve been tracking all day. We need nourishment, and she’s spoiled the only game we were able to catch in these gods-forsaken swamps.

I said hold your tongue.

Brodnik grumbled something, and then attempted to rip a piece of flesh from the bone with no luck.

I secretly took joy in watching Kull defend me.

I think it tastes delicious, Rolf said, a smile spreading across his boyish face. The firelight illuminated the patches of hair growing on his upper lip and chin.

"You would say that, Brodnik replied. This meat’s as edible as that fuzz on your face you call a beard."

Rolf squared his shoulders. "It is a beard."

Brodnik laughed.

It is!

I’ve got more hair growing on my backside than you’ve got on your face, boy.

Rolf leapt to his feet. That’s not true.

No? Would you like me to prove it?

Kull sat on the log beside me and gave me a quick smile as the two continued to argue. Aren’t you glad you came? he asked.

Absolutely. I attempted to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

Be honest.

Honestly? I would’ve left thirteen and a half days ago if not for you.

He gave me a sly grin. Then I am pleased you decided to stay.

The argument finally died down when Brodnik revealed his backside and Rolf conceded without a fight. I had to agree with Rolf. I’d spent four years of my life in medical school, and we’d certainly studied some strange abnormalities—Brodnik’s backside was a prime specimen of hypertrichosis, or excessive hairiness anywhere on the human body. Including backsides.

It felt strange being here with these people and so far from home, although most times, I wasn’t sure where home was. I’d been raised by dragons in Faythander, though my mother was human and my father an elf. At the age of twelve, I’d moved in with my mom, but I’d never bonded with her. When I’d finished medical school, I’d spent a year in Boston and then found an apartment on Galveston Island. I’d lived there ever since. I managed to eke out a living by counseling people who’d traveled to this world—Faythander—and had returned to Earth with no memory of it. I’d never felt completely at home on Earth, though after spending two weeks with the Wults, I couldn’t wait to get back.

You’re quiet, Kull said.

Sorry. I attempted a smile. I’m just tired. Eyeing my meat, the flesh blackened and tasting of charcoal, I added, And hungry.

It’s not your fault. Cissikins are infamous for being lean. We’ll find better game after we leave these lands. He stared around the swamp as chirps and hoots of strange, unfamiliar creatures echoed off the inky pools of water surrounding us.

The pixies had warned us of this place. Not even they traveled here. These were the badlands. Many unlucky travelers had died here, which is why I only came here with Kull as my companion and good luck charm.

I eyed him. Was he more?

Kull’s face revealed no emotion as he gazed at the campfire flames, though I knew he was worried about his sister. Two weeks ago, he’d also admitted his love for me, though he hadn’t mentioned it since then. I didn’t push the subject—we both needed to work out our feelings—and psychologically speaking, the emotional impact of losing his sister would have been difficult for him to sort through. Best to wait it out.

I’d also never admitted my feelings to him.

I wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I did have a boyfriend back home—one that I needed to break up with before I confessed my emotions to Kull. Deep inside, I knew that I did love him. When I contemplated how much I wanted to care for him, grow old with him, and spend the rest of forever with him, the thought scared me a little. I’d never felt that way about anyone.

My thoughts were interrupted by shouting. I followed the source of the sounds and was surprised to see Mochazon, a pixie warrior I’d met not long ago, flying toward us. He was easily seven feet tall, although if not for his height and his shock of cotton-white hair, I doubted I would have spotted him—his black scales and scanty clothing provided excellent camouflage in the dark swamp. In his arms, he carried the body of a pixie woman whom I recognized immediately. Uli.

Uli had become my guide to help me find the Everblossom, and soon, I’d learned that she was more than that—she was the speaker for the tree.

Her appearance had given me no clue that she was the sacred speaker for the tree. She wore rags, her hair was wild and disheveled, and I wasn’t sure if she’d ever had a bath. But she’d become my friend. To see her now, lying in the arms of Mochazon, alarmed me.

Gasping, I stepped back as he hovered over the clearing. The Wult guards clamored beneath him. As the pixie landed, the guards intercepted him in true Wult fashion, with raised swords and spears.

Brodnik grabbed Mochazon’s arm as I approached them, so I decided to intervene before someone lost a limb.

He isn’t a threat to us. You may release him.

Release him? He’s an intruder!

Brodnik, Kull said from behind me, release him.

The Wults weren’t in the habit of questioning their leader, but since I’d arrived, it seemed attitudes had changed. Brodnik cast a wary glance at the pixie man before releasing him, then he tromped back to his post, leaving Kull and me alone with Mochazon and Uli.

The pixie woman gave me a weak smile as she reached for me. Gasping shallow breaths, she took my hands in hers. Her dark, scale-covered skin was scorching hot and pulsing with a white-hot magic that made me flinch and pull away from her.

Uli, I said, what’s the matter?

She has been afflicted with a strange malady, Mochazon replied.

It is the tree, she said.

The tree? I asked. To my knowledge, the tree was the only object left from the world’s creation that still contained pure magic. Weeks earlier, my quest to defeat the Dreamthief had taken me to the pixie lands, where I’d sought it out.

The Everblossom existed in the caverns beneath the Ever Root, a tree that had once been taller than Fan’twar’s mountains, but now all that remained was a collection of petrified roots, which the pixies now called home.

Something is wrong, Uli said. It is calling for me. The tree is in danger. We must go there. She gasped, and only then did I notice her eyes were glossed over with a milky sheen.

Now? I asked, glancing at the dark swamp surrounding us. One of our Wult guards had been wounded and nearly killed while traveling at night. Since then, we’d decided to only journey during daylight hours.

Uli’s eyes glowed brighter. She screamed, her back arching and magic throbbing beneath her skin as her voice echoed through the swamp, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

It is the Everblossom, Mochazon said. Because she is the speaker for the tree, it is transferring its magic into her.

Transferring its magic? What would cause it to do that?

There is only one reason why the tree would do this. It senses its own destruction.

A knot formed in my stomach. Its destruction?

Yes, Mochazon explained. Only certain vessels have the ability to carry its magic. It has given its magic to her for now, but if left inside, it will kill her. The tree must be in grave danger for it to purge its magic and transfer it to Uli.

Uli tried to speak, but her voice was so weak I had to kneel beside her to hear her.

Without the tree, Uli whispered, magic in Faythander will be no more. The poisoning of our world has begun. All magical life… will soon perish.

Chapter Two

We moved Uli to a cot as she continued to writhe. I brought her a water flask and held it to her lips, though she pushed it away. Mochazon and Kull hovered over me as I tended to my friend. Touching her forehead, I could tell the magic was swelling inside her with such a powerful force that I feared it might tear her body apart.

Uli, I said, how can I help you? What can I do?

No, she moaned. No, no, no.

Mochazon knelt beside me. She has been asking for you since this malady started. She seemed to think you would know what to do.

Me?

He nodded.

But I don’t know what’s causing it or why the tree would be in danger—I have no idea what to do or how to stop it.

Long ago, Mochazon said, there was another who was named as the tree’s speaker and protector. The tree became endangered, so it transferred its magic into the speaker, thus ensuring the magic’s safety. Eventually, my people were able to save the tree, and the magic fused with the tree once again.

And you believe the same thing is happening to Uli?

It is possible.

But what is wrong with the tree? I saw it not long ago, and it seemed fine. Has anything changed since then?

Kull knelt beside us. Geth, he said. We have been tracking him deeper into the pixie swamps. I couldn’t understand why he would choose to travel into this cursed place. It made no sense. Why didn’t he travel to his home in the goblin lands? And if he wished to hide, why did he choose this place? There are more secluded, less hostile places in Faythander, particularly in the goblin lands.

I looked up at Kull. What are you thinking?

He may be traveling to the Everblossom.

My stomach sank. But, why?

Mochazon’s expression grew grim. The Everblossom is the most powerful and potent source of magic in all Faythander. Perhaps he wishes to take the magic for himself.

Perhaps, I answered, but he would be unwise to do so. He can’t simply take the magic. The tree must give it to him, and I doubt the tree would ever willingly give it to someone like Geth.

Then he may be trying to destroy the magic, Mochazon said.

Surely not, I answered. If he destroyed it, then all Faythander would suffer—himself included.

Still, Kull said, our trail leads us deeper into the pixie swamps, and I know of nothing else in this place that he would seek out except for the tree.

Then we must travel to the tree, I said.

Kull nodded.

Uli groaned. Her breathing became unsteady as the magic increased in intensity, glowing in a white halo around her skin. I reached for her, but Mochazon grabbed my wrist.

No, you must not touch her. The magic has grown too strong. Only pixie magic can absorb her energy. I will carry her through the swamps until we reach the tree.

Are you sure you’ll be all right?

Yes. Because I possess pixie magic, it will counterbalance Uli’s. But we must hurry. I do not know how long my powers can repel the tree’s energy.

Do you know where to find the tree? I asked.

Yes, he said. There is a very old trail that my people have not used for many generations. It is fraught with danger, but we must travel it now, for it is the only way those who have not mastered flight can travel. First, we must traverse the cliffs, and then we must cross the ancient bridge. From there, we will enter the tunnels that will lead to the Everblossom.

He turned to Kull. Gather your men. We must leave now.

Kull’s warriors cast suspicious glances at the pixies. Kull had always been well liked by his people, though his status had been waning since he’d met me and refused to marry the elven princess. In the Wults’ eyes, I saw their distrust, as if they were testing Kull to see if he would demand they follow the pixie.

Pack up, Kull said to his men. We leave now.

But we’ve barely finished our dinner… or rather, our extremely scanty snack, Brodnik said.

I said pack up, Kull repeated with steel in his voice, quieting all other complaints. The men stood and began packing their things. Although no one voiced a complaint, I saw the hesitancy in their movements. Whatever resentment they had for Kull grew deeper.

I felt partially responsible for the men’s attitudes. I knew I shouldn’t have felt that way—Kull had made his own choices. Yet, if I’d never been in the picture, things would have turned out much differently. I pushed my guilt aside and instead focused on finding my mirror case, a coil of rope, sleeping blankets, and my water flask. I arranged the items in my bag and then looked for a quiet spot to wait as the others packed up.

A group of gnarled trees grew along the edge of the encampment, and I made my way toward them. My boots sank into the spongy ground, masking the sounds of my footsteps as I found a suitable tree. As I stood under its branches, I kept my eyes on the water surrounding the small island where we’d prepared to camp. It lapped at the edge of the land, its surface rippling now and again as insects or fae-flies darted across the surface. The haunting song of a bog-beast echoed through the swamp. It was a deep, throaty sound, similar to the call of a coyote—a primal noise that conjured images of loneliness and fear.

Warm hands encircled my waist. I turned, surprised, to find Kull standing behind me. My tension disappeared with his nearness. We’d not had a second alone since we’d started this expedition, which was why my mind wandered to other places.

Weeks ago, I’d traveled to Kull’s home—Danegeld, the Wult fortress. While there, I’d found him in his library, which had surprised me. Kull had never struck me as the cultured type. But since then, I’d learned there was more to Kull than his appearance suggested. While he was tall, ruggedly well built, and usually wore fur or breastplates; he also had a fondness for literature, which was an odd trait to find in a Viking warrior.

I still remembered the way the smell of the wood smoke in the library fireplace had mingled with the scent of well-worn books. I had felt happy in his fortress; its sprawling mountain views and rich wooded forests had given me a sense of comfort and peace. I’d felt at home there, and there weren’t many places that made me feel that way.

In my mind, we were there in his library again, with the fire warming us as we sat in front of the hearth. I sat with my cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the slow, steady thumping of his heart. He wore a white peasant’s shirt that was open at the top, and the warmth of his skin against mine made me realize that I’d imagined him naked. The thought brought a hint of a smile to my face.

He leaned in close. What are you thinking about?

Wouldn’t you like to know?

Hmm. His voice came out low and deep, as if his mind had gone to the same place as mine. After this is over with, I intend to sling you over my shoulder in true barbarian fashion, and then I shall carry you back to my castle, lock you in my bedroom, and not allow you to leave for a month.

My cheeks flushed with heat, a roiling wave that ignited throughout my body.

He kissed my forehead.

I wanted so much more, but now wasn’t the time. It seemed now was never the time. Not long ago, Kull had crossed to Earth with me. While there, our relationship had become more than a friendship. Of course, with my luck, we’d returned to Faythander and he’d had no memory of it. But while his memories were forgotten, his emotions were not, which had clued him in to what had happened there. I’d had the awkward task of explaining that I still had a boyfriend back home—one whom I had no feelings for, whom I intended to break up with as soon as I got back. But until that happened, I didn’t feel right being with Kull.

I pushed away from him. You know we can’t, I told him, wishing more than anything that I could say the opposite.

He ran his finger along my jaw, his touch making me melt. Then I can wait, he said in a quiet voice.

He pulled away as several of his men gathered behind us. They wore packs and carried swords, although some held cudgels and battle-axes, and others held torches. Their faces were set with grim determination. Despite their earlier protests, they looked ready to follow Kull into battle if need be.

Mochazon made his way toward us. Uli rested in his arms. She moaned but then closed her eyes, seeming at rest as the magic surrounded both her and the pixie man. Mochazon turned to the group, his piercing eyes a deep shade of yellow that seemed to blend into the swamp.

Follow me closely. This is a dangerous path we follow. Do not stray, for once you do, it will be impossible for anyone to discover your whereabouts. This is a cursed land. Fluttering his wings, he lifted off the ground, then flew to a section of the swamp where a narrow trail snaked around towering roots and through patches of inky black water.

We followed without speaking, which, for our group, was astonishing. The patter of Mochazon’s wings broke up the silence. Wide tree roots rose from the swamp, forming a dense canopy overhead. Our torches sputtered, and embers fell into the water, hissing as they hit the surface.

The humidity made my shirt and breeches cling to my skin, and my feet ached from walking all day. I had been looking forward to a long night’s sleep, but now it seemed that would never happen. It didn’t matter. I focused on Mochazon up ahead, carrying Uli as she slept. Her hair, braided with beads, clinked softly as he cradled her in his arms.

We traveled until I lost track of time. No one spoke. Kull stayed close to me, his eyes guarded as we crossed through the swamp. Now and again, the haunting calls of creatures echoed from the darkness, though I didn’t recognize most of the sounds. This deep into the swamp, many creatures had yet to be classified.

The path sloped downward and thick, curving branches hung low overhead. The network of dark, twisted roots along the path were sometimes so large we had to duck under them instead of clambering over them. The torches reflected off the smooth wood arching gracefully around us. When we emerged from the root cavern, I expected to see some variation in the scenery, yet the same monotonous black water and towering tree roots never changed. My mind conjured images of monsters waiting beneath the water, so I kept my eyes on the path ahead.

Kull rested his hand casually on the broadsword at his waist. Despite his relaxed attitude, his eyes were alert as he scanned the forest, looking for threats. His appearance and demeanor hinted at his strength. He stood a head taller than most of his men, and his iron-studded vest conformed to his muscled torso, enhancing his air of authority. He wore his customary dragon-hide boots—I still hadn’t asked where he’d gotten them—and his blond hair and striking blue eyes gave credence to his Viking ancestry.

Kull was male in every sense of the word. I couldn’t imagine any woman not being attracted to him, myself included, although he hadn’t always impressed me. When we’d first met, I’d believed him to be arrogant and overly self-assured. His reputation had aided in that image. But the more I’d gotten to know him, the more I’d seen how devoted he was to his family. He put them above all other obligations and would defend them to the death—a trait that was hard to find in a Wult man, or any man for that matter. He’d refused a chance at battle—unheard of among Wult warriors—to come out here and search for his sister.

Heidel had left her family to join the leader of the Caxon, Geth—a powerful goblin shape shifter who had nearly killed Kull and me once. She’d fallen in love with Geth, and I wondered if her feelings for him had blinded her to his true nature. If we found Heidel, would she agree to return with us?

The landscape began to change. Huge, hulking leaves grew overhead, and many of them blanketed the path and floated on the water around us. Our feet crunched over the brittle carpet of foliage. Soon, the leaves obscured the path completely. We kept our eyes on Mochazon and followed behind him. Without him, I was sure we would have gotten lost.

Sounds of rushing water came from up ahead. The sound grew louder until we stood over a huge chasm. Cold spray misted my face as I peered over the cliff’s edge to stare into a dark, seemingly bottomless pit.

Brodnik stood beside me with his torch held high, but its fire did little to illuminate the chasm below us. It’s impossible to tell how far it goes. Could take us till morning to make it to the bottom.

We don’t have until morning, Mochazon answered, his voice echoing as he landed beside us. If you wish, I can fly each of you down one by one.

Brodnik laughed. Fly me down? I’ll wear bloomers and dance an elven jig before that happens. You won’t be touching me.

Kull inspected the drop. Flying us down one by one will take too long. We’ll use the ropes to rappel down. He scratched his chin, seemingly lost in thought. And with the slippery rocks, it won’t be easy.

What about the torches? Brodnik asked. We won’t be able to climb and carry them at the same time. How will we see to get down?

He’s right, several of the men standing behind us agreed.

Perhaps we should wait until morning, one of the men offered.

No, Kull answered. There’s no point. The sunlight doesn’t reach this far down.

Then how will we make it? Brodnik asked.

I have an idea, I said. Kneeling by the edge of the stream, I reached into the chilly water and removed a handful of water-worn pebbles. My fingers grew warm as I called on my magic, letting its power infuse the stones.

The Wults distrusted magic, but if we wanted to make it safely to the bottom, they’d have to trust me for once.

I released the spell. "Radiance."

Magic drained from my body and into the stones. A soft blue light surrounded the pebbles, and one by one, they lifted off my palm and floated into the air.

The warriors stared apprehensively as the stones hovered above their heads, casting blue light over their faces.

Well, Brodnik said, his eyes wide, that’s one way to do it.

The stones will stay with us until we no longer require them, I explained. We can leave the torches here.

Are you sure about this? one of the warriors asked, swatting at a stone. How do we know this magic is safe?

It’s safer than falling to your death, I answered.

Yes, Kull said. Now, remove your ropes.

He slung his pack off his shoulder, unfastened the canvas covering, and pulled out a coiled length of rope. We all did the same. We’d used ropes on several occasions already, though never on a drop as deep as this.

Removing the rope from my pack, my stomach knotted with anxiety as I stood on the edge and contemplated the descent. What would I give to have my stepfather show up right now? Fan’twar was the dragon sky king of Faythander—one of the only creatures I trusted with my life. He’d raised me until my twelfth birthday, and in my mind, he was more of a parent to me than either of my birth parents.

I’d feel much safer sitting on Fan’twar’s back than dangling from this rope. But as it was, my stepfather was hundreds of miles away, and I doubted he could fit through the tangle of roots we’d traversed and make it to a place so overgrown the sunlight didn’t reach it.

Kull stood under a large growth of roots, grabbed one, and yanked on it until he seemed satisfied. We’ll tie off the ropes here.

This time, the men followed without complaint. They were in their element, taking orders from their leader, embarking on a quest that may or may not end in the termination of their lives. This was what Wults lived for. I wished I had the same confidence.

I found a root and tied my rope around it as Rolf stood next to me and did the same. His face, even with its hint of a beard, looked so young. This was his first real quest, and he was over-the-moon excited to be included in Kull’s expedition. But still, his youth bothered me. How would his mother feel if her son didn’t return?

Are you frightened of the height? Rolf asked me.

Had he noticed the tremor in my hands? A little, I answered.

But weren’t you raised by the sky king himself? Shouldn’t you be used to this sort of thing?

True. But if I fell, at least I had the sky king to catch me.

What was it like to be raised by the sky king? Were you ever frightened of the dragons?

Honestly, no. Some of my happiest memories are from my time with them. I preferred being raised by dragons.

Really?

Yes, it’s true. My human mother had trouble showing emotions. She’d had all of her memories from Faythander erased and replaced with false ones. My whole childhood was a lie. She never felt like a parent, probably because she never saw herself as one. I’m not sure if she ever loved me—not really.

But did you love her? he asked me.

The question caught me by surprise. I’d been so concerned about whether my mother loved me that I hadn’t contemplated whether I loved her.

I’m not sure, I finally answered. It’s hard to get close to someone who’s had most of their memories replaced.

Rolf shrugged. Well, it wouldn’t bother me if my mother lost some of her memories, especially her memory of whenever I added soapweed to her boar-hound stew.

I cracked a smile. I see. Yes, I suppose in that situation, your mother’s altered memories would be beneficial.

Rolf secured the knot around his waist and tossed the coiled rope over the precipice. The rope thumped against the edge as it tumbled into the darkness.

The rest of the men did the same until we all stood at the edge.

We will go slowly, Kull called. This is a longer descent than what we are used to. Do not become too hasty, for you will lose your footing, and no one will be able to rescue you.

At that, the men turned, leaned back, and let the ropes support their weight as they slowly descended. I did the same, my heartbeat loud in my ears and my hands slick with sweat as I took my first step into the abyss.

Chapter Three

The blackness engulfed me. Not soon enough, my tiny orb lights floated from the top of the ravine, casting a bluish glow over the damp rocks and layers of black soil. I held on to my rope with slick palms as I waited for the orb to catch up to me, and then we descended the crevasse.

The scent of damp earth filled the air as the waterfall rushed past, spraying cold droplets on my skin. I kept my feet planted firmly on the rock face, though I slipped as I tried to maneuver down. The rope burned my hands. Wincing, I moved down another inch, then another. This was going to take a while.

The other men didn’t seem to have any better luck. I considered looking down to see if I could spot the bottom but decided against it. Instead, I focused ahead of me.

The rushing of the waterfall grew quieter the lower we went, and the now-audible men’s voices echoed through the huge canyon.

Rolf rappelled next to me. Hello, Olive, he said.

Hey, I said while trying to find someplace to plant my feet.

This is fun, right?

Yes, Rolf. Very fun. My toes slipped, causing small pebbles to dislodge and plunge to the bottom. My stomach flip-flopped as I lost my grip.

Rolf caught my arm.

Thanks, I mumbled as I found a foothold.

It’s no trouble, he said with a smile. You know, Kull and I are second cousins once removed on my mother’s side.

Really? I fumbled with the rope at my waist. Somehow, the knot had cinched tighter.

Yes. I’ve been invited to most of the family feasts and gatherings. I’m named after my grandfather Rolf— He grabbed my rope as I loosened the knot and nearly dropped to my death. —who was a great warrior. Our people believe that a departed ancestor is reborn and rejoins the living family members when his name is given to the new baby. So I guess I’m as strong as my grandfather, if you believe that—

Rolf, I cut him off.

Yes?

Sorry, but I’m trying to concentrate on not falling to the bottom. Could we have this conversation later?

Oh, sure. Sorry.

No problem, I answered, straining against my rope.

Shouts came from below. I glanced down to see that the men had found a ledge. As I lowered myself to the ground, I felt grateful to be on my own two feet again, even if it was a ledge barely wide enough to stand on.

Kull stood near me. We scanned the ledge as it hugged the mountainside. Far in the distance, the ledge ended and a bridge spanned over a deep crevasse. From my vantage point, the bridge was the only way across the canyon. A river ran along the gorge’s bottom, cutting its way through sharp rocks, although it was so far down, my bauble lights barely illuminated it.

Mochazon hovered over us. That way, he said, pointing at the bridge.

Kull nodded. We’ll untie here and follow the trail, he called, his deep voice