They all wakened very early the next morning and after getting fully dressed in her new layers, Fia hurried down to the kitchen to eat a quick and cheerless breakfast. It would never do to leave on an empty stomach.

Ilido finished his own bowl a moment after she had begun, and disappeared into the night to begin to ready the horses. She tried to stay calm as she finished her bowlful, and then kissing Larna good-bye, she trudged out into the cold night and was welcomed into the stable by the warmth of the barn and the scent of the horses.

It most certainly took them longer than it usually took Andro and Ilido, but even at that they were turning the cobs out onto the trail before the sky had lightened much. Larna kissed them both farewell and called after them to be careful.

Fia nodded as Ilido assured the kindly soul that they would both be model mountaineers. Then she took a deep breath, gulped, and swung up onto the back of the round-bellied cob Ilido had assigned her. She forced her breathing to steady and patted the furry neck reassuringly. The small horse sighed and mouthed the bit in disinterested boredom, so she reminded herself to relax and gave the signal to move off. The snow crunched beneath the hooves of the herd, and Ilido trotted his mount a few steps to head up the cavalcade.

Then they rode away into the still hush of a winter’s morning.

Travel went well all that day and the next, and Fia relaxed into an almost trusting relationship with the cobs. The days were cold here in the high mountains, so the riders would alternate between riding and walking to keep their temperatures up and making it not so hard to handle.

But the nights were almost impossible to sleep through. Fia found the cold seeped in around her cloak no matter how she wrapped it around her. And the ground seemed to wick away most of the warmth she might build up. She was always grateful for the approaching dawn, when they would rise and begin moving once again, which would soon have her comfortably warm again with exertion. They walked beside their cobs for the first few hours until the sun was fully up, then mounted and rode for several hours. By switching from one cob to another, they kept the horses as fresh as possible and made the best time.

It was early in the third day that the cob at the head of the line spooked out from the path and stood staring at something behind a craggy rock, ahead and off to the right above the trail.

“Who goes there?” challenged Ilido, his voice ringing along the slope and echoing back from the next one over.

Nothing moved for a moment, and then the figure of a man detached itself from the rock’s cover and stood into their sight.

“Good morrow to you, good travelers!” he said cheerfully. “Beg pardon for frighting the horses, but I was in such deep thought that I hadn’t realized you were there.”

“That is all well,” responded Ilido. “Where are your traveling companions? That we might not meet them unexpectedly and startle them, too.”

“Companions I have none, good lad, and a horse neither. Alone and on foot I am, and I can tell by your look that ye think that strange. And strange it is, but there’s a reason for it, which I’ll tell to ye if you’ll answer but one question.” He had walked closer and came to a halt a few paces away from Ilido. His medium sized frame look toughened by outdoors living, pale eyes glinting in his weathered face. He lowered his voice. “Be ye Othiran?”

Ilido looked at him carefully. “I am,” he replied after a moment.

“And the lass, is she?”

“What mean these questions, fellow?” Ilido said.

“It matters not.” The stranger dismissed his unanswered query with a wave of his hand. “If you are, that is enough. I am Arlot son of Himri, second-to-the-chief-gatherer of truly important knowledge for the king’s court, and I am on a dangerous mission in the service of the good King Gregor, the true and rightful lord of Othira. I have come a great ways to fulfill it, and now find myself at a loss to do so for lack of assistance.”

“I’ve never seen you before. What position did you say you filled at the king’s court?”

“You’ve lived at the court then, laddie?” the man asked. The question seemed to make Ilido uncomfortable.

“I’ve…” He paused, and then went on. “Visited, from time to time.” A faint redness tinged his ears.

“Ah,” replied the man, his weathered face wrinkling into a kindly smile. “Well, you’d never have seen me because I was a distinct sort of information gatherer, the sort that isn’t supposed to be generally known.”

“A spy?” Ilido said, an edge to his tone.

“An inquirer,” the man corrected. “I’ve spent many a day lying in the tall grass above the fords, waiting for a seditionist gathering, trying to get the faces of the murderous creatures. It was I that brought the news to King Elden about the first attack, though it was only by the skin of my teeth that I made it before the storm broke around our ears.”

“Then King Elden trusted you?”

Something seemed to glint in the man’s eye for a moment, but he brushed it away with his finger.

“Aye, lad, that he did, well rest him. And well he might, no loyaler heart ever beat ‘neath a man’s ribs than the one here.” He laid a weathered hand over his heart. “And King Gregor, too, may he be preserved, though I’ve not had the honor of serving under him as long, I couldn’t love my own brother more. My right hand.” He shook it in front of him. “To here.” He slashed across it with the left. “I’d give it and gladly if it’d bring him back to the throne in full good health again!”

Fia noticed Ilido brush a hand across his own eyes, and wondered if she’d feel the same if it were her king and country they were speaking of.

“What is it you ask of us?” Ilido asked, a little huskily.

The other seemed to be brought back from thoughts. “Ah, right. There’s business to do.” He put his hands behind his back and started to pace about.

“Well, it’s like this, you see…” He paused and waved a hand to indicate a wall between them. “I’d never be telling any of this if I had any other way of getting it done. I’m not a king’s man for nothing, to be spelling plans out for children.” He raised a hand. “But I’d be a fool if I let your youth stand between us and what needs done, so I’m taking you into my confidence. No one needs to tell me that you’re quick young folks, and know when to keep a thing in the dark when important tasks are at stake.”

He turned on his heel and continued. “You’ll have heard that King Gregor’s been sorely wounded, but that’s only half the bad news. Just lately there’s some that has captured our poor king, and is holding him with the ill-gotten intention of delivering him up to the scoundrel enemy for a certain price. But it was I that filched the message they sent and I read it. There was nothing I could do, a man alone, to get him back by force, so I went to them and offered a plan. If they could wait a little, give me a chance to get the price, would they let him go to us? That was it, the only way I could think of. And they accepted.

“So, now the only thing is, I haven’t anything to lay hands on that’s near worth a king. The treasure house is gone and there’s no one who has much of anything left these days, and we have to get the payment fast. So it came to me. The one thing that the scoundrels didn’t get, that’ll do the trick all by itself, is the Sunlight Stone.”

“The Sunlight Stone?” Fia felt her heart skip a beat.

“You’ve heard of it?” He squinted at her.

“I’ve heard of the legend. It was said to belong to the Othiran monarchy, but it disappeared a long time ago.”

“It’s no legend.” He smiled. “Well, I know where it is, and how to get it back. I’d do it alone, mind you, but it’s more than a one-man job.” He looked at them both intently. “That’s why we need you.”

“We?” Fia wondered skeptically.

“Othira, and all of us who love her and our king. It’s only us three that can get it done.”

“Where is it?” asked Ilido.

“There.” Arlot pointed straight out.

“Crystal Mountain?” Fia said in astonishment.

“The house on the northwest side of Crystal Mountain.” He pierced her with a steadfast look. “And I know how to do it, with the help of you two.”

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