Chapter Thirty #2
Now, I understand the sympathy stamped on folks' faces before I left. This is brutal.
I sit for a moment, my head tucked into my knees, hugging the cloak tightly over my head.
I draw in deep breaths, but with each gasp, my head spins.
I brace myself for another go at reaching the top.
I’m never going to get there sitting on the cold ground.
Shuffling to my unsteady feet, something feels off.
The ground is moving. I must be more light-headed than I thought.
I fall to the grass off the path, lying on my back, thinking I’m going to pass out any second.
Once the area stops spinning, I glance at the steps.
Soon registering that they are moving downwards.
What the fuck. Why are the stairs moving?
Arel. That son of a bitch.
Pushing up from the ground, my legs creak and groan, wobbling, trying to find their balance. The stairs descend fast back down the mountain, that’s why he was smirking, he knew this would happen. I’m gonna kill him. Anger seeps through me as I stomp up the rest of the way on the rough terrain.
If I could feel my body, I would jump for joy, now that I have finally reached the top.
Instead, I lay flat on the ground, staring at the sky, my legs aching and pulsating from the overexertion.
The sky is a clear blue from this height, I’m above the clouds, too high even for the birds.
I think I’ll wait here, waiting for the pain to subside before I begin the search for the prize. I doubt my legs could carry me anyway.
After… I don’t even know how long, the pain has waned in my legs, or they’ve gone completely numb—also a possibility. I push up onto my elbows, then to my feet. Glancing around the peak, I see nothing that resembles a prize.
All I see is a pile of stones piled on top of each other. Intrigued, I walk over to them. I’ve never seen the like. Although, I’ve never climbed up a mountain as tall as the Cap.
Tucked in beside the rocks is a small leather bag, containing a bottle of whisky with a note tied around the neck that reads, ‘Enjoy the whisky. Don’t forget to put a stone on the highest point of the cairn, you’ve earned it.’
Chuckling to myself, I find a large flat stone and carefully lift it above my head to place it on the top of the stone cairn. I smile at my accomplishment. I did it.
After everything, living through Nik, failing at almost everything I do, I have succeeded, and no one can take that away from me.
Taking in a deep breath, I glance out at the view.
If the weather were warmer, I would enjoy the whisky up here, keeping it all to myself.
But because of my frostbitten toes and the numbness of my body, I think it’s time to go.
The thought of walking back down is daunting until I spy the descending stairs. I laugh under my breath, stepping onto the first step, I plonk down and crack open the bottle.
The trip down is quick, either that or the whisky has hit me faster than I realised. The village comes into view before I know it. Voices at the bottom of the hill mumbling to each other, then laugh as I come into their view.
I stumble as I jump off the stairs. Grabbing Arel by his top, I yell, “What the fuck was that?”
Arel pulls my fingers off his top and grips my shoulders. “A little light-hearted fun between friends, now come on, share that whisky.”
“Not a chance.”
Caelan moseys over to us, followed by Ronan and Kaleb. “Well, well, look who made it.”
I hiccup. “Yeah, no thanks to this guy,” I say, pointing towards Arel, or at least I thought I was until Ronan pushes my hand to the left.
Caelan laughs. “Don’t worry, thin air and alcohol are not a good mix. You passed the final test with determination. Go sleep it off, then we’ll talk.” Kaleb and Ronan take an arm each and guide me towards my hut, tossing me on my bed and laughing as they shut the door.
I must have crashed the minute my head hit the pillow.
The room spins as I sit up in the bed; clutching the sides tightly to stop myself from falling.
My body shivers uncontrollably, and I force myself up and wrap a blanket around me, clutching it at my neck.
I can’t see anyone outside, but I hear voices over near the kitchen.
Heading over, each tortured step is agonising. The voices stop as I near them. Arel pulls out a chair beside him with a grin, narrowing my eyes at him, my body creaks as I slump down into the seat.
“Don’t stop talking on my account,” I say, my teeth chattering.
The crowd laughs and resumes talking amongst themselves. Arel pats my back, and I wince at the touch, as it stings my still frozen skin.
“You did it,” he praises and piles my plate high with tonight’s meal.
“What in the veil was that? You made those steps move. How?”
Arel smirks as he reaches for the jug, pouring it into my cup. I look around at Kaleb and Ronan, and no one answers; they are too busy trying and failing to hide their laughter.
Caelan finally answers, “That was Arel’s specific kind of magic. Can be useful when he’s not messing around.”
“I’m always useful, what are you talking about?” Arel grins, turning his attention to me. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I can enchant objects, like the steps. I waited a few hours when I knew you would be nearing the top and enchanted them to descend.”
“Making it harder than it needed to be. Yeah, thanks.”
“When did you figure it out?” he asks curiously, resting his chin on his hands, staring disconcertingly at me.
“About three-quarters of the way up. I could see the peak, but it wasn’t getting any closer, and then my legs gave way.” Arel laughs under his breath. I jokingly punch him in the shoulder. “You’re an arsehole, you know?”
I scoff my food like I haven’t eaten for weeks, savouring each bite.
Heat starts to come back to my body, but I remain wrapped in this warm blanket, unwilling to risk letting it go.
I listen to everyone chatting about the farms, the food, and the preparation for winter.
Caelan talks quietly to Ronan, their hushed tones too intriguing to ignore. I strain to overhear.
“It’s not like them to be hanging around the mountains at this time of year. They must be looking for something,” Ronan mutters to Caelan.
I lean forward, grabbing another roll of bread, glancing at them quickly.
Ronan’s eyebrows are creased together, and Caelan rubs his beard, the same way he does when he’s thinking.
Caelan catches my eye, and I jump out of my skin.
Inadvertently knocking over my cup, spilling some ale down Arel’s leg, he groans, murmuring curses under his breath.
“You think he’s ready?” Caelan says to Ronan without taking his eyes off me.
Ronan swirls his ale before slowly taking a sip. In all the time I’ve spent with him during training, I suppose we’ve come to an understanding, but I firmly believe he would still kill me in my sleep.
“Weapons wise he’s great, I’ve never seen anyone pick it up like he has. Hand-to-hand, he has fought us all. He gives as good as he gets. I’d say he’s ready.” Kaleb claps his hands while Arel slaps me on the back.
“He hasn’t fought us all,” Iza pipes up. “He hasn’t fought me. What do you say, little cub, think you can beat a girl?” Everyone turns their attention to me, all my resolve gone in an instant as my throat goes dry.
Grimacing, I refill my cup, downing it in one.