Page 39 of Mountains of Mist and Magic (A World of Sun and Shadow #4)

T he towering peaks of the mountains were shrouded in thick clouds, lending an air of mystery to their jagged silhouettes. Phillippe stood on the deck of the ship, his heart quickening as they approached the enigmatic landmass. The waters around them were calm, almost eerily so, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation of their arrival.

As the ship drew nearer, Esmeralda moved closer to him, obviously nervous. Only Cyrus and Cressida seemed truly excited, their voices hushed in reverence for the ancient legends that surrounded these mountains.

Phillippe could feel the anticipation thrumming through the air like electricity, a palpable energy that seemed to infuse every soul on board.

The mountains rose majestically from the water. Phillippe thought he could make out strange symbols carved into the rocky cliffs, but he was too far away to be sure.

The ship eased into a sheltered cove that was shrouded in the shadow of the mountains. It seemed to glide over the water soundlessly, as if their presence was no great matter to the towering masses surrounding them.

He looked around at his friends, seeing fear, but also reverence on their faces.

“Well, we're here,” Triston announced, breaking the silence. As if free from a trance, they began to prepare for going ashore. Phillippe headed back down to his cabin to grab his broadsword; that was all he ever needed. He returned quickly on deck, watching as Agatha packed a variety of herbs and pouches, jars and wraps. Phillippe had momentarily forgotten that there was no healer on this journey, and he was grateful that Agatha was prepared.

Renya had a sword at her waist, and Selenia did as well. Julietta had a bow and arrow, but Phillippe had the slight suspicion that she had no idea what to do with it, but simply took it from Triston when he handed it to her. Triston had a large trident for himself.

Cressida was seen stuffing books and charts of all kinds into a large bag before securing it on her back.

He felt guilty, seeing Esmeralda sitting on a barrel, watching everyone arm themselves. He quickly grabbed the small knife he always carried at his waist, and went over to her.

“Here,” he said, placing the blade in her hand. As much as Phillippe loved his broadsword, the little knife he presented to Esmeralda was even more special.

It had been a gift on his tenth birthday from his father.

He only hoped that it would protect her if she needed it.

“Thank you,” she said, her hand turning the knife over to examine it more closely. Her eyes found the inscription, and she immediately glanced at Phillippe.

“Don't you dare try and give it back,” he said, knowing what her next move would be. “I want my future wife protected.”

She didn't fight him, but instead, rose to her feet and placed a tender kiss on his lips, obviously moved by his phrasing. He knew that she anticipated a quick peck, but he couldn't help himself as he wrapped his arms around her, moving his fingers through her hair before cupping her face. She moaned slightly against his mouth, and he slowly broke the kiss before it turned into something completely inappropriate. Instead, he grabbed her hand, moving towards the rope ladder Triston had dropped. The men worked together to lower a small rowboat down to the surface water of the bay, allowing them to get to the shore.

“I'm going first,” Triston said, grabbing the rope ladder.

“Me too,” Grayden said.

“Then I'll go as well,” Phillippe added.

Phillippe could see Sion open his mouth, but he was quickly cut off by Renya.

“We'll take groups of three at a time. Leaving behind someone in each group that can actually row a boat.”

Phillippe grumbled a bit, but he knew she was right. He stayed back while Triston, Julietta, and Grayden crawled down to the rowboat and made their way onshore. Once Triston, Julietta, and Renya were on the beach, Grayden started back with the boat.

A swoosh of air ruffled Phillippe's hair, and he saw Cressida pass by in a blur on Brutus's back, followed by Agatha on Beauty.

Finally, the rowboat returned to the ladder hanging down from the ship, and Phillippe climbed down, making sure to help Esmeralda as she joined him. Once she got a few feet above the rowboat, he grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her down with him.

“I could have gotten down myself,” she said.

“But then I couldn't have touched you. I'm going to use every single excuse I can find to put my hands on your body.”

She blushed, a deep scarlet tinting her cheeks.

Sion and Selenia came next, and Phillippe and Sion grabbed the oars, rowing across the still surface of the bay. Phillippe could see the others walking along the beach, pointing at things on the sand and then looking up at the mountains. As they got closer, he could see that he had been correct; ancient runes seemed to be carved into different peaks, almost shimmering under the dull light of the partially-clouded sky.

Phillippe finally made it to the shore, and excitement buzzed within him, his nerves hyper-aware for any danger lurking unseen. He missed this; he missed the adrenaline rush of battle, the feeling of exploring new lands, the knowledge that absolutely anything could happen at a moment's notice and that his life could be held in the balance.

But as he turned back to the boat and saw the look of uncertainty on Esmeralda's face, his heart lurched. As exciting as adventuring was, he knew in his heart that his galivanting days would soon come to an end. His heart might be beating faster, prepared for danger, but it was nothing compared to the way that it beat for her. Once this journey was over, he would go back to the Snow Lands, take over his brother's duties, and marry Esmeralda.

“What are you thinking?” Esmeralda asked, squinting up at him.

“Nothing,” he said, then picked her up and hoisted her out of the boat. Before he set her down on the dark sand, he placed another kiss on her throat, and she gasped quietly. He looked back at the boat, and saw Sion roll his eyes before he headed back to the ship for Cyrus.

Phillippe took in the scene before him. The beach wasn't anything like the soft sands of the Tidal Kingdom. It was coarse and grainy, filled with tiny rocks and bits of broken shells. Seaweed in dark, dirty colors littered the beach, and bits of tree branches and logs made it difficult to traverse.

“Look at this, Phillippe!” Triston shouted from farther down the shore.

Phillippe jogged over to him, Esmeralda following.

Julietta, Triston, Grayden and Renya were circled around some type of skeletal remains. Phillippe peered down, trying to make sense of what he was looking at.

“Is that...a griffin?” Selenia joined the group, a bit winded from chasing the others up the beach.

Phillippe looked at the skull, and identified the beak immediately, slightly agape. The enormous ribcage seemed to open up towards the sky, and the large wingspan had the barest traces of mottled feathers clinging to it. The hollow eye sockets in the skull seemed to haunt Phillippe, and he felt a shiver go down his spine as he took in the remains of what he thought, up until now, was a mythical creature.

“I think it is,” Renya whispered, and Phillippe could tell she was just as much in awe as he was.

Brutus roared from a few yards away, and the group turned to see Cressida approaching. Beauty was still gliding around above them, eager to explore the new terrain. Phillippe watched her for a second, feeling a certain fondness for the dragon, before turning his eyes back towards the beach.

“Beauty doesn't seem to be able to fly over the mountains,” Renya said, pointing. Sure enough, the dragon skirted right next to them, but couldn't, or wouldn't, cross the peaks.

Cressida dismounted, her high-heeled boots sinking into the sand. While they were all dressed practically for the journey ahead, Cressida continued to dress extravagantly. Phillippe had no clue where she still managed to find her skin-tight leathers, but decided he didn't care.

“Hmmm...” she purred, looking at the remains. “A griffin. The chosen mount of the Sun God. We're in the right place.”

Phillippe looked back down, trying to envision the creature as it must have been before it met its demise, graceful and flying through the air.

“Well, should we move forward?” Grayden asked, nodding farther inland. Phillippe followed his gaze, seeing a large outcropping of rocks that seemed to create a short tunnel past the huge slabs of rock that formed a wall around the island—or, what they assumed was an island. Phillippe suddenly realized that they had no clue how big this landmass was. It could be bigger than their entire world. He always assumed that there was nothing outside of their continental lands...but he'd been so short-sighted in his thinking.

Finally the last few stragglers joined them on the beach. Grayden led the way towards the cave, slightly weighed down with supplies and equipment. Most of it was tied up on Beauty, but now that they weren't sure if she could cross over the mountains, they'd have to take some of it with them.

The cave was lined with sand and larger rocks that had been washed in from the tide. Although the beach was overcast, but still light, the other side of the cave was dark.

“What's that about?” Renya asked, stopping to look at the scene ahead of them. Through the darkness, there was a host of bioluminescent colors in all shapes, but they couldn't make out the details of what was beyond the cave. It was as if there was an aged and broken mirror distorting their view.

“Don't approach it.” Cyrus came up from behind, struggling over the rocks a bit, before getting less than a foot away from the screen-like divider. He put his hands out, as if feeling for some type of energy or magic radiating from it. Phillippe couldn't begin to fathom what it would feel like since he'd never had magic.

“It requires a payment,” Cressida said smugly. “A magical payment. And a rather large one. Why do you think I was siphoning off all that magic?”

“Because you're a greedy witch,” Grayden mumbled under his breath.

Cyrus looked at Cressida, then back at the group. “She's right, I'm afraid. I'm not sure why, but it does.”

“I would have thought it was rather obvious,” Cressida said, mocking Cyrus with her condescending tone. “The Gods didn't want one single person to gain entry into the heart of the mountains.”

“And why is that?” Agatha asked.

“Because it'll take more than one person to make it through the trials.”