Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Present Day
The venture through that swirling mist of embers and ashes was treacherous.
Smoke stung my eyes and clouded my nostrils, making the narrow switchbacks that protruded from the side of the Spirit Volcano even more precarious.
I placed one foot directly in front of the other, toe to heel, not daring to look down.
Not wanting to see where the soot floated past my feet and to the earth below.
If I did, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to see the ground through the haze.
Before hiking the cramped pathways curving through the rocky surface like a snake winding up the mountain, we had all looked to Cypherion.
To where his hands draped around Jezebel’s and Tolek’s shoulders for support.
He had looked directly at me, predicting the argument I was about to make.
“I’m coming” was all he said, his jaw set and stare hard.
He removed his arms from my sister and Tol and put his full weight on his own two feet.
His knee buckled slightly.
“Cypherion, this is a horribly dangerous idea. You cannot climb that.” Hundreds of feet above, the volcano released a shower of sparks when I pointed at it.
“And when has a horribly dangerous idea ever stopped any of us?” he countered, taking uneven yet determined steps toward the entrance to the switchbacks.
Uncertainty burned through me. “But this is different. One wrong shift and you’ll fall to your death.”
“I could say that about any of you,” he argued, turning back to me and crossing his arms. His stare—so hard, so assertive, so unlike himself—seared me.
“We didn’t nearly become paralyzed,” Tolek snapped. Cyph glared at him, eyes flicking to the bandage holding Tol’s leathers around his scarred leg, and Tolek quieted.
“Cyph, it is not a show of weakness to stay,” my sister announced.
I latched on to her support. “If anything, it’s a show of strength.” To admit when he was hurt, to admit needing help.
“Ophelia, as you like to remind us, we have no input in your decisions.” His words stung, but they rang true.
How many times these past two years had I made that message very clear?
“I have made my own decisions from a young age. I will not sit by, running my hands through the ashes down here while you all risk your lives.”
I had no argument, so I chose the truth. “I just want to protect you.”
His eyes softened. “I understand. And we, you. So, we must remain together.” He staggered to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s ask our healer what her professional opinion is.”
Rina, wringing her hands, scoffed. “Finally.” She looked at me. “I believe if he’s careful, he will be fine.”
That had been that. We put Cypherion in the center of our line, behind Jezebel and in front of Tolek, whose leg had mercifully healed almost completely in the hours on the tundra. Rina brought up the rear, and I led our journey up the switchbacks.
Ashes drifted before me, each step treacherous as loose pebbles rolled beneath my boots, smoke fighting to get into my lungs.
I was unable to shake Cypherion’s words from my mind.
I have made my own decisions from a young age.
Though he shouldn’t have been, he was correct, and the thought of such a lonely young boy angered me for an entirely different reason.
But he was capable of taking care of himself. I had to acknowledge that, bite back my arguments, and support him. It was not in my nature, but dammit I was trying.
I smiled to myself at the challenge, but my foot landed on an unstable stretch of rock. The world shifted beneath me as a two-foot-long gap in the switchback went tumbling to the ground.
I didn’t even have time to register the danger before a small but steady hand gripped my elbow, shoving me against the wall. A sharp rock bit into my back as I caught my breath, the tender wound in my side flaring. Through my shredded leathers, a drop of blood slipped down my side.
“You’re okay,” Jezebel comforted, rubbing my arm. She looked to my freshly opened wound and winced. “Sorry about that, but do watch your step, sister.”
I looked down the line of my friends, wide eyes peering back through the smoke. “I’m sorry. I…” My eyes landed on Cyph, where he stood with both hands digging into the rock, white knuckles the only sign of his strain. “I…got distracted. It won’t happen again.”
Jezebel nodded, tawny eyes bright in her soot-stained face.
“We’re glad you didn’t plummet to the earth, but this does pose a new problem.
” Tolek coughed. He nodded at the two-foot-long gap that now broke our pathway.
Smaller rocks crumbled from its edge, bouncing down into the smoke.
The echoes of their fall mingled with the crackles from above, forming a sinister cacophony. I flinched at each sharp note.
“It’s not too large. We can make it.” Jezebel wiped a hand across her eyes, red from the smoke.
She was right. On solid ground, it was merely a large step. But hundreds of feet in the air, breathing in hazy ash, along a narrow platform that was crumbling beneath our weight…it was more than worrisome. As we looked, another six-inch chunk of the rock broke off, widening the gap.
“Don’t step too close to the edge. It’s clearly not solid.” I cleared my throat and looked to Cypherion and Tolek. “And you two,” I instructed, pointing to each of their injuries in turn. “Be extra careful.”
They didn’t have any sarcastic responses.
With the smoke around us, it was difficult to see a mere yard beyond the gap, but a piece of me was grateful that in this step, it was only me versus this latest challenge. No distractions ahead, above, or below.
Tentatively, I stretched a foot across the gap.
Jezebel braced me from behind. I prodded the ledge with the toe of my boot, ensuring it could hold my weight.
When no stray rocks fell, I lunged. My core and the wounds across it clenched, every inch of my body focused on balancing my weight on the precarious surface.
In a way, it was what I had been doing for years: teetering over the point of death.
My scars ripped further, blood dripping down my skin, but the stretch of rock was solid beneath my foot. I dragged myself across.
Both feet landed on the other side, my heart stuttering with relief. My fingers dug into the rock wall for support.
Scooting along, I made room for Jezebel, stretching a hand toward her.
My breathing came in short, panicked inhales as her feet left the opposite side of the gap, a graceful, fearless leap across the distance.
She stood about two inches shorter than me, and I prayed those two inches would not be her weakness.
They weren’t.
Once my sister was safely beside me, our hands locked together to stifle our nervous energy. I nodded at Cypherion.
Awkwardly, he leaned his back against the wall for support, stretching one leg out to the side across the gap. In a moment that sent my heart plummeting to the earth, his supporting leg—the one healing much more slowly after his spinal injury—buckled.
Tol was there before I could gasp, pinning Cyph’s shoulders back against the wall. He shook his head, honeyed highlights invisible under the coating of soot and ash. “None of that,” he warned, gripping his shoulder tighter. “You’re not allowed to fall.”
Chocolate eyes met blue and Cypherion smiled at him in thanks. Then, Cyph threw his weight sideways and fell across the gap, his extended leg landing inches from Jezebel. With her steady hands gripping his arms, he used the functional muscles in that leg to pull himself across.
Tol followed smoothly on his freshly healed leg, and though I could barely see Rina through the haze, with her long, elegant steps she crossed easily—the most flawless of us all.
I released a relieved breath and looked up. Ash and soot fluttered onto my cheeks like snowflakes, but my heart lifted. The blazing mouth of the volcano was in sight through the swirling haze.
We had nearly made it.