Endlessly, our feet crunched through a thick carpet of pine needles. Above us, the mountains linking the Jeralls to the Hrothgar range loomed like an impassable wall. I knew there was a pass to the north, where Helgen rotted in ruin, and briefly, I worried Durak turned in that direction. Why would he? He could have that power all to himself. That expression of malicious exaltation curling over his tusks as he watched Celann fall convinced me well enough. I wasn't completely sure what Celann had planned, but it seemed obvious enough that the Orc had no intention of following those plans. He knew Ingjard knew. A shudder coursed down my spine.
" '...you must be open.' Open to what?" Valindor's thoughtful scowl stared a me expectantly.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"What Dexion said to us. Haven't you been listening? I've been trying to figure it out with you for the last mile!"
"Oh. I...was thinking."
"Apparently not about what we're going to do if we get the scroll," my friend huffed in irritation. "Was it about me, at least?"
"It might have been," I lied. Val just looked too hopeful to completely let down, and, admittedly, it was unbearably funny to watch him preen at the idea.
"Well, your mind's in the right place, then." At the lewd twist in his lips, I couldn't help but laugh. It looked so unlikely on his face.
Pacing our way up the increasingly steep trail, we shrugged on our hoods to keep away the incessant rain. It wavered between pouring down and merely spitting on us, as if a cloud held some vendetta against our existence and couldn't decide how best to annoy us. Of course, the rain was warm and fat, so it hardly mattered what the cloud was doing.
When we were high enough to look down on Falkreath's valley, Meeko discovered a small pool set into the rocks. Runoff from higher up trickled down in a noisy rill. Here we stopped for a moment. Sitting by the water, trying to catch my breath, I squinted at the lowering sun as it approached the Jeralls' teeth. For a while, I stared at the water, watching its mirror-like surface ripple as some insect landed or fish emerged. Idly, I set my fingertips on the surface, musing over the feel of the fluid's strange membrane. It was tense like a barrier, but easily broken. A fluid door. A door!
Blinking, I stood. "I think I know what Dexion meant," I said, wiping my hand on my hood.
"Oh?"
"I think you have to be like a door. Open and closed at the same time."
"That doesn't make any sense, Henny."
"I know," I frowned. "It was just a thought." I pushed onward up the mountain. We were quiet for a while as the needles turned to snow and the last of the rain drifted away like a bad dream. The air turned chilly.
"Well, at least you won't read it and go blind. I don't know how you'd manage not to walk right into trouble," he commented with his sickle smile.
"I'd feel my way around it. I'm not that pathetic!"
"Feel your way around it? And get your fingers bitten off?"
"No. I'd--I'd get Meeko to protect me." Even that retort sounded weak to my ears.
"He'd have you chasing rabbits and charging into a fight. No," he sighed dramatically, "I'm afraid I'd have to stand in to protect you."
"I see. So, I'm supposed to feel my way around you, then."
"Oh, absolutely. It's the only way you'd survive," he said with utter solemnity. We stopped in the middle of the trail, Meeko whining behind us in question. I fought the blush rising to my face as I actually thought about doing what I'd suggested. Valindor's mask was the first to crack into a smug grin that dissolved into a contained chuckle.
I followed with a smirk and shoved him. "You're terrible! But I suppose that wouldn't be so bad." Still smiling cryptically, I left the Bosmer standing in delighted shock.
When he caught up to me, I had already turned onto the next switchback. The recent rain left a sheen of hard ice that meant I had to stomp my way through the snow if I didn't want to find myself sliding headfirst down the hill. On the side of the path, I found a slaughtered goat with its entrails strewn crudely across the ice. Deep bootprints littered the area before slouching upward.
Crouching, I followed them. In the swiftly fading light, I could make out a large handful of snow scooped out of a drift. Taking a drink. Then, a snapped branch, still green and young. Stumbled. My comrades followed me eagerly, Valindor leaning close and reading the signs with me. It wasn't necessary, but I enjoyed being so close to him, even if it meant the floating leaves tended to drift disturbingly through his head.
"What was this?" he asked, standing in front of a large depression in the snow, all legs and revived, dried grass. Next to the stone was the suggestion of a cylindrical shape.
"Our friend is getting tired."
"Tired enough to set down the scroll? That's pretty exhausted." We grinned at each other.
When we reached a sturdy shelf jutting out from the trail, we found a slipshod camp set between several scraggly, snow-covered pines that looked intent trying not to fall off the mountain. A bedroll leaned in rumpled abandon against a rock, while a dirty cook pot hung over a cold fire. Several pelts were scattered about, most of them too frozen to be of any use. There was even a dead wolf blending its white coat with the snow.
Around the camp was a massive cluster of the same tracks, many of them concentrated around the bedroll and fire. He laid down for a nap. Then had a meal. Then...where? But the answer was clear enough. The Orc left his little outpost at a run, heading right into a cleft in the rocks. This wasn't that long ago. Did he hear us laughing?
"Well, it looks like he's waiting for us," I said.
"Or running from us. Maybe he wants to read the scroll first."
"Then we'd better hurry." We left Meeko to guard the opening and jogged inside.
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