Page 68 of Beyond the Shadowed Earth
But Morin put a gentle hand on her ankle. “It’s all right, Eda. You’re safe. The ropes will hold. Just keep on like you’ve been. I passed out on my first climb, and that wasn’t on the sheerest cliffside in Halda. You’re doing well.”
She took a long breath, then another. She waited until her pulse grew steady again. “I’m sorry for what I said about your parents.”
“The gods have taken from us all, Your Majesty. I don’t blame you. Now climb, or we’ll never catch Tainir.” There was an urgency in his voice that hadn’t been there before.
His forgiveness was an unexpected comfort, but the anxiety she sensed from him scared her. She turned back to the cliff.
On and on they climbed, Tainir so far above them that her form blended into the rock. Eda wondered if Tainir was actually part goat.
Beyond the mountains the sky began to lighten bit by bit, the world going silver at the edges. Eda glanced behind her, and thought she saw a glimmer of darkness on the distant horizon. She squinted, but couldn’t tell if there was really something there or if exhaustion was making her see things. All at once, the sun lipped over the peaks, flooding the cliff with light and warmth, and whatever lurked behind them was swallowed by the dawn.
Another hour later, when Eda thought her arms were going to break from the continual upward strain, Tainir came into view, leaning backward, black braids swinging. “We’re almost there—just a little farther!”
That was enough to keep Eda climbing another hundred feet. Tainir pulled her onto a ledge in the rock, and Morin scrambled up after her.
For a moment, all Eda could do was stare. The ledge was much wider than she’d initially realized, at least the size of the palace menagerie, and was scattered with what looked like a dozen enormous birds’ nests. A wooden hut was built against the mountain, brightly colored in whorls of cerulean and magenta and gold.
“They must be out hunting,” said Morin, stretching his arms. “I’ll call them back.” He shrugged out of his harness and went inside the hut, emerging with a curved instrument made out of some huge animal horn. He blew three short notes that echoed off the cliffside with the harsh voice of some ancient beast.
Tainir tugged Eda toward Morin. “Keep away from the edge.”
Morin lowered the horn and peered out over the valley. Eda’s whole body tensed, uncertain what they were waiting for.
But she didn’t have to wait long. Dark shapes appeared in the eastern sky, growing larger and larger against the rising sun as they came rapidly toward the cliff.
Fear crashed through her, her head wheeling with images of the winged spirits in Tal-Arohnd, of bone swords and splattering blood. But then the shapes resolved into massive birds, golden wings catching the sunlight.
Morin sagged with relief, his face splitting into a wide grin as he glanced over at Eda. “You asked me how I got to the monastery ahead of you.” He strode toward the cliff, kneeling down and bowing as the enormous birds landed all around him in a roar of wings and talons. “I flew,” he said above the noise.
Chapter Thirty-One
“WHAT DOES HE MEAN,HEFLEW?” Eda hissed to Tainir.
Morin was feeding the huge birds scraps of meat from his palm, which was terrifying—their hooked beaks were larger than his forearm.
“They’re the ayrrah,” Tainir said, “the giant eagles, descended from the ones who used to serve the god Uerc. And Morin literally means heflew.The ayrrah have been our family’s secret for generations. My mother could speak to them, and Morin inherited her abilities.”
Eda blinked and saw the maps plastering the walls of the cartographer’s shop—incredibly detailed maps, like the person who’d drawn them had had an actual bird’s eye view. “You can’t mean—you can’t mean heridesthem.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. And you’d better hope the ayrrah like you, because we’re flying, too. It’s our best chance at making it all the way up Tuer’s Rise. It’s our only chance at finding Tuer’s Mountain, which was something even our mother couldn’t do.” Tainir’s voice caught.
Morin stood next to an eagle with dark wings, pressing his hand against its enormous head, leaning close to the creature’s fierce eyes. All but three of the ayrrah gathered their wings and leapt off the cliff, and Morin turned to Eda and Tainir, his grin even wider than before.
“They’ll take us,” he said, trotting past them and back into the hut. “Get Eda ready, won’t you, Tainir?”
Tainir helped Eda out of her harness, then shoved it and the climbing spikes deep into the bottom of her pack.
Eda dubiously accepted a hat, which was made of a bright blue knitted wool, with braided leather cords to tie under her chin.
Tainir laughed at Eda’s obvious dislike. “Flying iscold.Trust me. You’ll want it.”
And then Morin came back, lugging a trio of odd avian saddles, which the eagles allowed him to strap on to their backs. The birds waited patiently for him to finish, and when he did, he waved Tainir and Eda over.
Eda went, reluctantly.
Morin took her hand and brought her to one of the eagles, who peered at her with sharp eyes and pressed its beak into her palm. Eda suppressed the urge to screech and leap away. The ayrrah’s feathers were a rich chestnut brown, but their edges glimmered gold.
“This is Filah,” Morin told her. “She was—she was my mother’s favorite.” The words choked him. “She’ll bear you well. You have nothing to fear.”
