Chapter 51 — The Living Valley

Chapter 51: Chapter 51 — The Living Valley

Chapter 51 — The Living Valley

The two Mana crystals stayed drained.

Mabel placed them beside an unused crystal of the same grade, and the difference needed no magic to see: the unused stone held a pale glow beneath its surface, while the other two looked like cloudy glass.

"Completely exhausted," she said.

Christopher picked up one of the cloudy stones. "They won’t recover?"

"No. Once the structure collapses, the crystal is spent."

Bennet turned the remaining crystal over in his hand. "Then we can open the gate once."

"How long will one crystal hold the gate open?"

"You’re asking the wrong man."

Owen had measured the first opening: two ordinary crystals held the gate for several minutes, though the pendant reduced the drain, and nobody knew whether one would last half as long, or fail to stabilize it at all.

Christopher refused to gamble their only crossing on a guess.

An independent trader was expected along the eastern road within the week, so Bennet added Mana crystals to Dragonwatch’s ordinary request for lamp oil, salt and iron fittings; on paper, the purchase looked like just another order for maintaining old formations.

"How many should we ask him to bring?"

"As many as he can get without deciding we discovered a gold mine."

The trader arrived four days later with three wagons and fewer goods than promised, carrying only six low-grade crystals, all small and overpriced. Christopher bought every one anyway.

The man counted the silver twice, bowed to Christopher and gave Bennet the written weights of the six stones. Before leaving, he complained to Bennet that the western alliances reserved most useful stock before independent merchants reached Northgate.

The delay gave Godfrey time to choose the first survey group: Christopher and Godfrey would cross, joined by Walter, Owen and Mabel, while Simon and Adam guarded the control chamber, Ivo commanded the stronghold, and Bennet handled supplies.

They packed for three days despite intending to return before the first night.

"If the gate fails," Godfrey said, "we need enough time to find another solution."

Christopher tightened the straps on his pack; three days of food suddenly felt light.

Food, water, rope, chalk, blankets, tools and spare weapons filled five packs; Owen added stakes and a measuring cord, Mabel carried bandages, medicine and small sealed bags for plant samples, and Walter brought a short hunting bow.

They also carried a caged bird again.

"It survived the first visit," Christopher said.

"Which makes it experienced," Mabel replied.

The gate required two crystals to stabilize, and the silver surface opened onto the same mountain platform beneath a clear sky.

Godfrey crossed first, the others following after his signal, with Christopher passing last, carrying the pendant.

The gate closed behind him.

The sudden absence of the opening made the mountain feel much farther from Dragonwatch, leaving only a stone arch filled with empty air. The old castle stood below the slope, close enough to reach before midday, and beyond its western wall sunlight lay across the sea.

Walter turned toward the control pillar beside the arch. "Now we learn whether we can return."

The far-side control was simpler than the one in the buried bastion: it held a recess for the pendant but no crystal sockets, and fine lines ran from it into the mountain.

Christopher inserted the pendant.

Energy rose from the stone beneath their feet, and the arch filled with silver light, showing the control room in Dragonwatch. Simon nearly raised his sword when their faces appeared.

Christopher kept the gate open for a count of thirty, then removed the pendant, and the surface cleared.

The plane itself had supplied the power.

"The plane powers this side," Owen said.

Godfrey studied the castle. "We still test it every morning. Nobody enters that place until we know the road back works repeatedly."

They marked the platform first. It occupied a broad shelf on the mountainside, sheltered by an overhang, and the stone arch showed little weathering; a shallow channel carried rainwater away from it, while iron rings fixed into the ground suggested that animals or cargo had once been secured there.

The old road began twenty paces away.

Grass and low bushes covered much of it, but its fitted stones remained level, descending in long turns toward the castle with a narrower branch bending west toward the coast.

Owen examined one retaining wall. "Better work than the surface fortress repairs."

"Everything here is better than our repairs," Christopher said.

"Then whoever built it had more workers, better tools and fewer ruined buildings demanding attention."

The lesson followed Christopher even into another world.

They established camp within sight of the arch while Owen drove numbered stakes around the platform, and Walter searched for tracks, finding several small hoofprints, bird marks and one broad print with three thick toes.

"How recent is the track?" Christopher asked.

Walter crouched beside it. "It crossed this morning, maybe. The edge has not crumbled yet."

The creature had crossed the road below without climbing toward the gate.

They tested the spring before drinking: Mabel filled a clear cup, checked its smell and left a silver coin in it while Owen examined the channel feeding the pool, and though the bird drank first and showed no immediate distress, Mabel still ordered their carried water used until the next morning.

Owen measured the platform and arch and found the structure was not part of the mountain at all; its foundation extended deep into cut stone and joined the old road through fitted paving, and two damaged posts stood at the platform’s edge, perhaps once holding lamps or signals.

Walter followed the small tracks into the bushes and returned with a feather longer than his forearm. It was dark green until turned toward the sun, when lines of blue appeared through it.

"Is the feather useful?" Christopher asked.

"Pretty," Walter said. "That’s all we know."

They stored it with the plant samples rather than treating every unfamiliar object as treasure.

Mabel examined the plants growing between the stones; most were unfamiliar, but one resembled mountain thyme with silver veins through its leaves, and she cut a single sprig rather than pulling the root.

"Does the herb have any use?" Christopher asked.

"I can’t tell from its appearance," Mabel said. "Unknown things are interesting. They’re also capable of poisoning people."

Christopher opened Dragon Eyes, and faint energy surrounded the plant, stronger than any ordinary herb near Dragonwatch; the entire landscape carried a similar haze, easiest to see around flowers, exposed stone and distant animals.

He closed his eyes quickly.

"There is energy everywhere," he said.

Godfrey scanned the tree line. "Then assume everything has had centuries to use it."

They walked only as far as the first bend, from where the rhinoceros herd was clearer: more than thirty adults grazed along the river, smaller animals among them, their hides reflecting dull bronze and grey under the sun.

One adult lifted its head, too far away for even Godfrey to sense whether it carried Essence.

They returned to the platform.

The first survey gathered spring water, marked the road, collected samples and confirmed that the gate could reopen.

At sunset, clouds gathered over the far mountains, and rain crossed part of the valley in a dark curtain while their slope remained dry, a sight that ended any lingering thought that the place was an illusion built behind a door.

It possessed distance, weather and its own evening wind.

Before dusk, dark winged shapes crossed high above the coast, though none came close enough to identify.

Their campfire stayed small.

Supper came entirely from Dragonwatch; Godfrey forbade hunting on the first day, since unfamiliar blood might attract unfamiliar predators, and they ate dried meat and bread while watching animals move across the grassland below.

Farther downstream, the rhinoceros herd formed a rough circle around its young before settling.

Christopher tried to estimate how much grass such a herd consumed and gave up. If Dragonwatch ever attempted to raise them, the animals would need access to the plane rather than being crowded into the northern stronghold.

"Thinking about saddles already?" Godfrey asked.

"About how much they eat," Christopher said.

Godfrey gave a quiet grunt. "Good. The saddle is the easier problem."

Owen wrote down the condition of the road rather than admiring the beasts: its width could take heavy wagons, the bends were broad enough for large animals, and whoever built it had expected to move weight between the portal and valley.

The road came before the animals beyond it.

Godfrey set watches: Walter took the first, Godfrey the second, Christopher the last. When Owen complained that being a builder did not prevent him from watching darkness, Godfrey replied that it did prevent him from recognizing what moved inside it.

Christopher woke before his watch and found Godfrey looking across the valley.

"What do you think?" Christopher asked.

"That we know where the road leads."

"We know it leads to the castle," Christopher said.

"And that knowing a destination is not the same as knowing the road."

At dawn, they opened the return gate again, and Dragonwatch appeared immediately.

Christopher closed it without crossing.

The test had worked twice.

They shouldered their packs and began descending the old road.

The old road made the descent easy until it disappeared beneath a landslip.

A section of mountainside had fallen across three turns, carrying trees and boulders with it, and crossing directly would place them on loose stone above a steep drop.

Owen studied the slope. "We go around."

The detour took half the morning.

They climbed uphill, crossed a narrow shelf and returned to the road below the damaged section while Godfrey marked the safer route with stakes; repairing the old road properly would require dozens of workers and more time than Dragonwatch could spare.

"Could the rhinoceroses clear it?" Christopher asked.

Walter looked toward the distant herd. "I would rather not ask them, my lord."

The road entered the first line of trees near midday.

The forest was warmer than Dragonwatch, damp with the smell of leaves and rich soil, where broad trees rose above silver-veined shrubs, vines climbing their trunks while small birds with red tails called from the canopy.

Mabel stopped so often that Godfrey finally gave her ten counted minutes at each marked area.

"If I don’t look now, we may walk past medicine," she said.

"If you taste every leaf, we may carry you back poisoned."

She collected roots, bark and flowers in separate bags for later testing.

Christopher used Dragon Eyes sparingly; some plants held more energy than others: a low fern shone pale green around its curled tips, while dark berries beneath it showed almost none.

"That one," he told Mabel, pointing to the fern.

"Why that one?"

"It looks healthier."

She glanced at him but collected a sample.

Owen found the first ore beside a stream, where water had exposed a red-brown vein through the bank, and broke off a piece with his hammer.

"Iron," he said.

"Is it good iron?"

"It appears clean. Wat decides whether it is good after smelting."

Farther downstream, black stone ran through a pale cliff; Owen could not identify it, and though the material was heavy and resisted his chisel, Christopher saw faint energy inside it.

They marked the location rather than filling their packs.

Owen chipped off a small sample and wrapped it in cloth, since turning the vein into bars would take miners, tools, carts and furnaces, and they would also have to clear enough of the road to carry the weight back to the gate.

They ate beside the stream.

Walter set two snares but caught nothing; fish moved in the clear water instead, some nearly as long as his arm, their scales flashing blue when they turned.

"Do you think the fish are magical?" Christopher asked.

"Perhaps. They’re still fish until one proves otherwise."

Godfrey refused to let anyone eat unfamiliar meat during the first expedition.

The forest opened onto grassland in the afternoon, and the rhinoceros herd was closer than expected.

Before leaving the cover of the trees, Walter found a pile of old dung beside the road and broke it apart with a stick; seeds and dry grass filled it, with no trace of meat.

"At least they don’t hunt," Christopher said.

"Cattle don’t hunt either," Godfrey replied. "Stand in front of a bull and explain why that makes you safe."

They climbed a low tree-covered rise to study the herd without approaching. Walter counted forty-three animals before two moved from behind the others—seven were calves, with four large adults remaining around them while the rest spread through the grass.

The herd moved with clear order: when a bird gave a sharp cry, every adult raised its head at once.

More than forty animals grazed between the road and river, adults standing taller than horses at the shoulder, thick plates covering their backs and flanks—some dark grey, others a dull metallic brown—with the calves kept to the center.

The herd noticed the group immediately.

Several adults turned sideways, placing themselves between the strangers and the young, and the largest male lowered his head.

"Back into the trees," Godfrey ordered.

Nobody ran.

They retreated into the tree line one slow step at a time; the male watched but did not charge.

Christopher opened Dragon Eyes briefly: most adults carried green or blue potential, though he did not know whether the human scale applied cleanly to beasts, and the largest male burned purple around the edges.

Its current strength mattered more. The pressure it gave off felt at least Bronze, perhaps higher.

"We go around the herd," Godfrey said.

"The road goes through their grazing ground."

"Then the road belongs to them today."

They returned to the trees and followed higher ground, and the detour revealed worked stone hidden beneath roots: a line of low posts paralleled the road, each carved with a worn symbol.

Owen cleared one. "Boundary markers."

"What did they mark?" Christopher asked.

Nobody knew.

Beyond the markers, the forest changed: fruit trees stood in uneven rows, most grown wild, though their spacing was not natural, and small green fruit hung from several branches.

Mabel cut one open; the flesh smelled sharp and sweet.

"Do not eat it," Godfrey said before Christopher spoke.

"I wasn’t going to."

Walter raised an eyebrow at him.

"I was considering it."

They collected two fruits and marked the grove. Cultivated trees surviving without care suggested the valley could support orchards again, a possibility that interested Christopher more than the unknown berries.

Several trees had died and fallen between the rows; Owen cut into one trunk and found the inner wood still dense and pale despite years on the ground.

"Is the timber still usable?" Christopher asked.

"Maybe. It has not rotted quickly."

Owen removed a small section for Wat, because harvesting living trees before learning whether the grove still produced useful fruit would be wasteful, and fallen trunks alone could provide test material.

At the far end of the grove stood a collapsed shed, where they found stone shelves, broken pruning tools and clay pots pierced for seedlings—whoever managed the orchard had propagated trees rather than relying on wild growth.

Christopher marked the orchard on the map.

Near the road, they found a stone irrigation channel filled with leaves, water still trickling through part of it from a hillside spring, and Owen traced it toward an overgrown field.

"This valley was farmed," he said.

The field had returned to grass and brush, but low terrace walls remained. Reopening it would require labor, not invention.

Christopher looked toward the distant castle, where fields, orchards and grazing land spread beneath it.

That made the empty land feel less like treasure and more like an abandoned territory.

They camped near the irrigation spring, well away from the rhinoceros herd; Walter set a warning line with small bells, and Godfrey forbade a large fire until they understood what hunted after dark.

Owen spent the remaining light clearing one section of the irrigation channel; removing the leaves let water reach the upper edge of the abandoned field, where it spread into blocked side channels and stopped.

"The system can work again," he said. "Not by itself."

Restoring one field would require clearing brush, rebuilding terrace walls and controlling the water.

Mabel laid the day’s samples in rows: she had gathered twelve plants and rejected twice that number, three resembling medicinal herbs, two possibly edible, the rest collected only because their energy or growth looked unusual.

"How long until you know?" Christopher asked.

"Weeks for the simplest comparisons. Longer without an herbalist."

The plane offered abundance while reminding him that abundance without knowledge could kill.

At sunset, a group of deerlike animals crossed the old field, their antlers carrying faint points of light, and fled the moment Walter shifted his weight.

No predators followed.

The absence bothered Godfrey.

"Is it too quiet for you?" Christopher asked.

"Not quiet. Safe in a way we have not earned."

Wyrms passed overhead before nightfall: two circled above the far ridge, then turned away from the castle mountain, neither coming near the herd or their camp.

Godfrey watched their course. "Something keeps them back."

The night passed without attack.

Christopher took the middle watch. The stars differed only slightly from those above Dragonwatch—or seemed to; he could not identify enough constellations to be certain, and a pale band of light crossed the sky near midnight and faded behind the mountains.

Night settled over the small plane like it did over Dragonwatch.

He decided the answer could wait; the irrigation channel needed clearing regardless of which sun warmed it.

In the morning, they found tracks outside the bell line: a catlike creature had approached from the forest and stopped before entering the open field, its prints turning away toward the mountains.

The castle remained two days away at their careful pace.

Christopher reopened the gate from the mountain platform after Walter returned to test it, and Dragonwatch appeared without difficulty; Walter reported their position, requested that nobody cross, and returned before the gate closed.

The expedition continued along the old road carrying a handful of plants, several stones and more questions than supplies.

Behind them, the rhinoceros herd drifted back onto the road within minutes, no trace left to show that anyone had ever passed.