Seventeen #3
we going to get across?” I wondered.
Kysa gazed down the mountain, surveying the valley with a grim, appraising eye. “There are no paths we can take without having to cross the lava,” she said. “Most of those gaps are far too large to walk across.”
“Um, just out of curiosity,” Halek wondered, “how high can a rock beetle jump?”
Kysa frowned back at him. “Rock beetles don’t jump,” she said. “They are not crickets. If there is a place they cannot get
to by walking, they will fly, but they are too heavy to jump more than a few inches. Which is problematic, given the situation
with Ratuk.”
Ratuk suddenly raised his head, as if seeing the valley for the first time. He huffed, tossing his horn, and his carapace
split open behind the saddle, wings buzzing. My heart jumped in my chest.
“I think Ratuk wants to fly,” I said, looking back at the beetle’s wings. “I think he’s saying he can do it.”
Kysa pursed her lips. “He is still injured,” she said doubtfully. “If he pushes himself and makes the injury worse, it might
cripple him this time. A rock beetle’s wings are their most vulnerable part—if he splits the membrane completely, it will
never heal.”
“I don’t believe we have a choice, Kysa,” Raithe said behind me. “There’s no direct path over the lava. We’ll have to get
across the gaps somehow. Unless we want to leave Ratuk behind, he’s going to have to fly.”
“Maybe if we just do short hops,” I said, as Kysa’s jaw tightened. “We won’t be in the air longer than we have to. If we fly
from rock to rock, that should be easier for him, right?”
She sighed. “I think the iylvahn is right, in that we do not have a choice.”
We made our way down the cliffs, picking our way through the jagged rock, until we stood at the edge of the hellish landscape.
Lava churned sluggishly in the pools, and bubbles rose on the surface before vanishing in a pop of molten liquid.
The heat radiating off the pools was a near physical thing.
As intense as peak Demon Hour, and even more menacing.
Demon Hour was always the same. Same time, the same intensity, every day.
If you were prepared for its arrival, you weren’t in any real danger.
The World Scar wouldn’t care if you were prepared for it or not. If you took one wrong step, if you lost your balance, or
if the rock you were standing on crumbled beneath you, you would die a quick but very painful death. At least, I assumed it
would be quick. I didn’t have any intention of finding out.
“Well,” Halek said cheerfully, after we spent several moments staring at what we’d have to cross in dismay. “I’m absolutely
terrified about this prospect; what about you guys? I’ve always said I wanted to go back to the warm mud baths of Massa. This
isn’t quite what I meant, though.”
Kysa urged Rhyne forward a few steps, standing up in the saddle to peer over the molten landscape. “Do you see a path forward,
kahjai?” she asked. “Or at least, the best path we can take without having to be in the air for long?”
From my shoulder, Meeka suddenly hopped onto Ratuk’s head. Standing tall on his hind legs, he observed the bubbling landscape,
whiskers twitching, then sprang off the rock beetle to the ground.
“Meeka?” I peered over Ratuk in alarm. “What are you doing?”
“Meeka see way across.” The jair’oa bounced forward a few steps, closer to the lava than I would’ve liked, then gazed up at the rest of us. “Follow Meeka. Meeka show safe path to cross.”
“Uh, are you sure about this, mouse?” Halek asked, and the jair’oa pinned back his ears. “You know our rock beetles are a
teensy bit bigger and heavier than you, right?”
“Meeka know.” Meeka looked up at me. The glow from the pools behind him cast the edges of his fur in crimson light. “Meeka
see the way, show human Fateless path to goddess loom. Trust Meeka.”
Trust. I clenched a fist in Ratuk’s saddle. This entire journey was about trusting my companions, putting my faith in something
other than myself.
“All right, Meeka,” I said, nodding. “We’ll follow you. Show us the way.”
He bobbed his head, then turned and hopped fearlessly toward the lava pools, tufted tail waving behind him. I took a deep
breath and patted the rock beetle’s carapace.
“Follow Meeka, Ratuk,” I said, and the rock beetle lurched forward, trailing the jair’oa across the broken landscape.
At the edge of the lava pool, Meeka paused, whiskers twitching as he seemed to gauge the leap to the first boulder. Against
the sprawling backdrop of red and black, he looked extremely tiny. A large lava bubble formed very close to where he was standing
before it popped in a spray of red liquid. Meeka instantly sprang backward, avoiding the lethal shower, and my heart lodged
itself somewhere in my throat.
“Meeka, are you all right?”
The jair’oa shook himself and vigorously rubbed his whiskers with his paws.
“Ground sneaky,” he said, cleaning each whisker as if making sure they were all still there.
“Single drop will hurt, so no touch red ground.” He sneezed, shaking his head, then hopped back to the edge of the pool and stood on his toes, peering over the lava.
His whiskers curled as he wrinkled his muzzle at the scalding landscape.
“Meeka still see path, though. Ground not stop Meeka. This way!”
And with a magnificent leap, the little jair’oa sprang into the air and soared over the magma like a bird taking flight. The
lava boiled and popped, almost seeming to reach for him as he arched gracefully over the surface then came down in the center
of the first large boulder, well away from the magma. Turning, he stood tall on his hind legs and looked back at us, ears
pricked and waiting.
I swallowed hard. There was no way Ratuk could move as athletically as a jair’oa. And if his wings gave out while we were
hovering over liquid hot magma . . .
I tried not to think about that.
“Ratuk,” I whispered, praying I wasn’t sending my beetle—and us—straight to a fiery doom. “Up.”
Ratuk crouched slightly, then his carapace split open, unfurling transparent green wings.
I glanced over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the injured one, but I was too late as the membranes began vibrating, filling the air with the sound of buzzing, and Ratuk rose slowly.
He wobbled for a moment, as if remembering how to balance in midair, and my stomach churned painfully as he righted himself.
But then he raised his head and shot skyward, the drone of his wings in my ears, and the ground fell away below us.
“Ratuk!” Quickly, I leaned forward to stop his upward climb. The rock beetle slowed, then hovered, wings moving in a blur
behind Raithe. For a moment, I gazed out over the World Scar, seeing how sprawling and massive it truly was, lava and shattered
stone stretching on until they disappeared into the haze. The temple on the spire seemed an unreachable distance away.
“Down, Ratuk,” I said, and the rock beetle obeyed, drifting from the air until he landed beside Meeka on the rock. His wings
slid back beneath his shell, but I turned just in time to catch a glimpse of them before they disappeared. The gash in the
green membrane of his right wing was still there. Smaller, but still a long way from being fully healed.
With another droning of wings, Rhyne descended and hovered in front of me, as there wasn’t enough room on the rock for both
him and Ratuk. Kysa peered down from his back in stern disapproval. “What happened?” she asked, making me wince. “I thought
the plan was going to be short flights over the rocks. For a moment, I feared you would go flying off toward the temple yourself.”
“Ratuk got excited,” I answered, which did not appease her.
“Control your mount, rider,” she said. “Ratuk is not as headstrong as Rhyne, but he is a rock beetle. You must be the one in charge, for his own well-being. I will not have either of you falling into lava because your mount decided
he was not going to listen.”
Raithe’s arms tightened around me. “Should I dismount, then?” he asked the insect rider, who frowned at him. “If it will make it easier and lighten the load on Ratuk, I can find my way across on foot.”
“Raithe . . .” I began, but Kysa shook her head.
“It should not matter, kahjai,” she told him. “The beetles are strong enough that a single person’s weight is nothing for
them. You would have to remove all his gear and supplies for it to make a difference, and we cannot do that now.” Her attention
shifted back to me, eyes narrowing. “Just follow the plan we spoke of, Fateless—short flights from boulder to boulder. Try
to be in the air as little as possible. Rhyne and I will be close should you get into trouble.”
I nodded. “Okay, Ratuk,” I said, and the beetle flicked an antenna back at me. “Follow Meeka. Meeka . . .” I glanced down
at the jair’oa, who peered up at us with pricked ears. “Lead on.”
The jair’oa bobbed his head, hopped to the edge of the boulder, and, without hesitation, sprang into the air. As before, he
soared over the lava and came down safely on a second rock, bouncing once as he landed. Ratuk shifted to follow, and I tensed,
but Raithe leaned in behind me, his lips close to my ear.
“Breathe, Sparrow,” he murmured. His warm breath feathered over my skin, making me shiver. “I can feel your tension, and Ratuk
can as well. Trust your mount. He knows what to do.”
I took a furtive breath, forcing myself to relax, and nodded. “All right, Ratuk. Let’s go. Up!”