Page 121 of The Cradle of Ice

She shifted slightly to the side. The map was marked up with circles, radiating lines, and scribbled notations. “The location you shared was not precise,” she explained.

“It leaves a lot of ground to cover. A square league, if my calculations are correct. It will take us some time to search through it all.”

Frell nodded. “Hopefully we’ll be able to spot some landmark from the air to guide us.”

Still, the alchymist didn’t sound hopeful.

Kanthe glanced toward the window as another geyser burst high. He certainly didn’t want to have to search that hostile terrain on foot.

He stared down at his toes.

Especially in these new boots.

They were crafted of the softest doeskin.

He glanced over at Rami.

A gift from a former friend.

* * *

ANOTHER BELL PASSED, then another, as the wingketch swept back and forth over the territory squared off on Cassta’s chart. With each pass, the terrain looked more tortured. The trees grew taller, the scalding geysers erupted higher, the boiling pots of mud became ponds, even lakes.

Kanthe paced between the windows and the map table.

He remembered Rhaif’s tale of the discovery of Shiya deep in the mines of Chalk. According to the former thief, she had been entombed in a copper egg far underground. If the Sleeper of Malgard was similarly buried, digging the bronze artifact free would be next to impossible, especially on their own.

He glanced to Aalia, who kept with her brother by the far window.

From the outset, Kanthe and the others knew their best chance of discovering the Sleeper lay in gaining the empire’s support, especially if a deep excavation was necessary.

That’s not happening now.

Still, Kanthe held out a sliver of hope. Rhaif had also described a great quake in the mine tunnels, as if Shiya’s awakening had shaken the area. He believed her copper egg might have been trying to force itself to the surface, but something went awry. Maybe from the corruption of the passing ages or simply the weight of all that stone.

Kanthe shifted closer to the window, studying the landscape below. If the Sleeper of Malgard was interred in a similar manner, perhaps there might be some evidence on the surface of such a forceful awakening deep underground.

As if conjured by this thought, a tall cliff rose ahead. It divided the land in two. The tablelands on top were riven with great cracks and fissures, several of them steaming. Huge boulders and shattered rocks filled the base of the precipice.

Kanthe hurried over to Saekl. “Get us higher.”

The captain frowned at him, clearly not one to take orders.

Frell shifted around Saekl. “Why, Kanthe?”

He pointed to the stretch of cliffs. He explained about the quake that had accompanied Shiya’s awakening.

“Could that be what we’re seeing here?” he pressed. “Signs of the same?”

Frell took a deep breath, squinting below. “Whatever shook this corner of Malgard, it happened ages ago. Century-old trees have rooted over those boulders and dug deep into the cliffs. And look at the white scale caked around the steaming vents on top. It would take many centuries to build to that thickness.”

Kanthe couldn’t argue but tried anyway. “Maybe this Sleeper tried to wake long ago and got stuck.”

Frell cast him a dubious look.

Still, Saekl heeded Kanthe’s earlier request and fired up the ship’s forges. The Quisl lifted its prow, and the ketch crested higher, sailing over the cliffs. She tucked the starboard wing enough to send them into a wide circle.

To better study the tablelands under them, Kanthe rested a palm on the glass and leaned over the curved window.