different signal.” I get the impression that if we were unwanted, that this signal would be rough and unpleasant. “We are expected, and she wants everyone to know we are arriving.”
We all fall silent again as Tor faces forward, his tone not inviting conversation. I assume the ‘she’ he mentioned is the leader of the tribes. When he spoke of her before, I always got the impression he admired her, since he worked closely with her, but now I’m not so sure.
The cliffs on either side of the valley are narrowing down now, and just ahead, I can see what looks like a crude archway of stone. The rock towers so high above us that it’s blocking out the sunlight, and I can’t fully blame the cold for the shiver that racks my body, as there’s an eeriness about this place. My horse looks about nervously, so I lean forward and stroke her neck calmingly, cooing softly. Her ears flick back, and I know she’s listening to me as she seems to settle.
Reaching the archway, I watch with bated breath as Tor enters on horseback, the darkness of the arch seemingly engulfing him. It’s just a trick of the light, I assure myself. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Vaeril studying me with an intense expression, and I know that if I said I wanted to go back, he would turn his horse around right now. Beyond him, Naril is somehow able to look both bored and alert at the same time.
Looking back at the ominous archway, I take a deep breath as my horse walks under the rock. Everything goes dark, but almost immediately, light returns as the cliffs open into a large clearing. Large, circular tents made from animal hides are dotted around the space, and as we follow a well-worn trail through the center of the clearing, I see tall, carved stones lining the way. The meeting place is much larger than I expected it to be, but then I suppose when it’s required for all of the tribes to come together, an enormous space would be needed. The tents are all spaced out and go on for as far as the eye can see, except I don’t see many tribespeople. There are a few who stop when they see us, making a symbol with their hands before following us towards the center of the clearing.
Tor is sitting tall in his saddle in front of us, and when he turns his head, his face is hard, and I’m suddenly glad he warned me that he would have to act differently here. A couple of people call out in a language I don’t recognise, and Tor greets them with a nod of his head or by raising his right hand in the air, his fist clenched, a gesture which they return with a triumphant cry. I refrain from looking over my shoulder to see if Vaeril is as confused as I am, and I’m grateful when he sends me a reassuring purr down the bond. It’s an odd sensation to try and describe, but it warms me from the inside and makes me feel stronger somehow. Sitting taller, I keep my gaze forward as we continue our journey.
The terrain of the cliff on our right is changing, and we seem to be going uphill slightly. Reaching a plateau, we come to a stop, and my eyes widen at what lies before me, a gasp escaping my lips. The tents are much grander here, and this is obviously some sort of meeting point. Large chairs and wooden benches are placed in a circle around a bonfire. A ring of tall stones is strategically placed outside of the fire, each one intricately carved, but that’s not what has me gasping. Just beyond the stones, the cliffside drops away, creating a vista point overlooking the rest of the mountains and showing the most beautiful view. I can see why this area was chosen for their meeting point and sacred stones. It’s enclosed, safe, beautiful, and it feels…magical.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
The voice catches me by surprise, and it’s one I’ve never heard before, but for some reason, I feel like it’s a voice I’ve known my whole life. It’s familiar, yet belongs to a stranger. Turning from the view, I realise with surprise that I’ve drifted away from the others. I hadn’t realised I’d moved away from them. Looking for the source of the voice, I see a woman standing by the