CHAPTER TEN #3
We arrive at the clearing and are immediately greeted by the sound of Calliope snoring.
One giant eye opens lazily, and if she’s still tending to a grudge, she doesn’t show it.
Everest appears around her, his arm outstretched in welcome, and I nearly trip over a stone and fall face-first into the river.
Everest’s hair looks like white gold in the soft sunlight.
His shirt is unbuttoned down the front, and the river’s dew still clings to his skin.
He’s just made time; I’m sure of it. His power fizzes, hanging in the air, which must be why I’m having such a physical response to his presence.
Despite the distance between us, I’m zeroed in on every inch of him. It feels dangerous to get any closer.
“Good morning,” he says, obnoxiously cheery. “Did you sleep well?”
Valentin gives him a tight smile. “As well as can be expected.”
“I hope the nights get easier for you,” he says with a small bow. “Although, I also hope you don’t have too many more nights here. Lovingly, of course. Come on down here to the water.”
I take a seat on a giant rock next to Calliope as Valentin heeds his instruction. “Not going to ask me if I slept well?”
Everest gives Valentin a hand as she takes the last steps down to the bank. “I think I already know the answer to that. I could hear you worrying from across the fair.”
“I thought you didn’t get back until this morning,” I say casually, reining in the urge to ask him where he went. He seems unruffled, like he wasn’t on one of his usual side-quests. He probably just got back from harassing his Aunt Chaos to let him play at being one of her agents for a while.
“Middle of the night,” Everest says, with no further explanation. “Val, you might want to take your shoes off. I should have told you to wear something better suited for getting into the river. Sorry about that.”
“At this point, you could put me in a clown costume and tell me to do jazz hands and I’d obey,” Valentin says, bending down to roll up the hem of her pant legs.
“Don’t give him any ideas,” I say.
Calliope huffs in agreement. Everest climbs up the bank and settles down next to me. There’s a bite to the morning air, and the warmth of his nearness drives straight into my gut. I try my hardest not to shift closer to him.
Valentin, shoes off and legs appropriately bare, steps into the water.
“It’s freezing,” she yells, her teeth chattering up a storm.
“Do you want Calliope to warm up the water for you?” Everest asks. “I’m sure she can conjure up some–”
“No, thank you!” Valentin says. “Just tell me what I’m supposed to be doing in here before my legs fall off.”
“Focus on the foam,” Everest says, while I laugh into the back of my hand.
“And on the feeling of the water against your skin. The river is made up of memories and timelines, so I’m hoping that your presence will act like gravity, drawing in parts of your other life.
Look for words that appear near your legs, on the rocks to your right, see if anything sparks a hint of recognition. ”
“Words?” Valentin asks, bending down so her braids curtain her face. “Where the– Oh!”
“I’m going to go get you a towel,” I say, getting to my feet, but Valentin is engrossed by whatever she’s seeing in the foam. “Please don’t let her get hypothermia,” I tell Everest before setting off towards the fair.
It’s a quick trip back to my tent, where I pull out a thick, fluffy towel along with warm socks and an oversized cardigan.
Secretly, I wanted to walk through the fair on my own during my favorite time of day, when the sky blushes from the sun’s attention and the mountains kiss the cotton clouds drifting above.
There’s nothing quite as romantic as a sunrise.
The early winter breeze carries Valentin and Everest’s voices to me as I return to the bank.
“How do you do it?” Valentin is asking. “Being here forever, away from everyone else.”
“It’s different for me,” Everest says. “I do get to leave, like I did yesterday. But this is my home, and I’m irrevocably anchored to it. It’s not like you or Ryka. This is my past and my present. And it’ll be my future.”
There’s a strange pitch to the way he says future, but maybe it’s just the wind.
“At least you’ve had company,” Valentin muses. “The ghosts, Calliope, Ryka.”
“They come and go,” Everest says, and I can picture the nonchalant shrug that accompanies that tone. “Except Calliope; she’s stuck with me forever.”
The dragon snorts affectionately.
Everest continues, “The ghosts cycle through. Some decide to pass on to other resting places, and of course we get new ones here occasionally. Time isn’t the same for me as it is for you – you think we’ve all been together for longer than you can imagine. It’s been nothing for me.”
His nothing stabs me in the heart.
“Ryka’s stuck around longer than others, or so I hear,” Valentin says. I’m almost back, but I lighten my steps, slow my pace.
Everest laughs. “None of the keepers are ever thrilled to assume their role, but if given the choice, Ryka would have been the first one out. Her pride is the only thing bigger than her will, which is why she’s trapped here.”
I stop in my tracks. I’ve seen every side to Everest that there is to see, but this vulnerability is rare, at least with me. That thought makes me nauseous.
“That sounds lonely,” Valentin says.
“It’s okay,” Everest says, and I imagine how his face brightens.
His distinctive enthusiasm is buoyant, palpable even when I’m only tracing the shape of him based on the inflection of his words.
“It’s an honor to be where people stop by.
You learn a lot from transition, and this is the ultimate liminal space.
In some ways, it’s the most exciting place to be. ”
I stomp down hard, letting out a loud, feigned groan as I traverse the last strip of the path down to the bank. Valentin and Everest are sitting next to each other on the rock, both bodies angled around to look at me.
“Thank you,” Valentin says as I toss her the towel. She wraps it around her legs and under her feet.
“I got you these, too,” I say, holding out the socks and cardigan. She immediately slips on the sweater, sighing at the touch of warmth.
“Nothing for me?” Everest asks.
“It’s not like you wear the clothes you do have,” I say, eyeing the panel of firm skin still exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. “You’re made of ice; I’m convinced of it.”
“You haven’t gotten close enough to find out,” he says.
“I’m good.” Do I have to sound like an out-of-tune guitar when he’s pulling my leg? “So, anything interesting in the wordy foam?”
The shit-eating grin on Valentin’s face dulls so quickly I regret the question. “No, it was mostly generic. A lot of mentions of my mom – or well, a mom. Something about coffee and a pine cottage and presents. Nothing that jolted a memory.”
“Well, it was worth a try,” I say, exchanging a glance with Everest. He’s chewing on his lip in thought, clearly onto another idea.
“What did Quill say?” Everest asks.
I hesitate, then tell him about the plan to scry on the night of the eclipse. I’m an awful liar, and I’m certain that he can tell that there’s more to the story, but Everest is too distracted by the opportunity at hand.
“I hadn’t thought that was possible,” he says. “I’ll have to talk to her about it, see what work she’s done on this spell already. Even I can’t maneuver time like that.”
“Let’s not bother her until she’s done,” I interrupt. Quill’s never given up my secrets to anyone, but despite his roguish charm, there’s no one who sees through smoke screens as clearly as Everest.
“You’re right; better to prepare for the next trip.” He raises an arm, and I take his hand in mine, helping him get up to his feet. He winces with pain, but the brief contortion in his face vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
“Are you okay?” I ask, helping Valentin up next.
“Of course,” he says, flashing me a wide grin. “All this work made me hungry. Let’s get some food. Val, have you had the licorice cotton candy yet, or has Ryka only made you try the boring flavors?”
He swings an arm around her and heads off up the riverbank, but I’m stuck on the pain on his face, and how he pulled away from me a little too quickly.
Maybe I’m not the only one keeping secrets.