26. Chapter 26 #2
“Can you do that?” Isla asked, curious.
“Hmm?”
“I just…” Isla flushed as Aurelia turned to her. “I thought your people were healers.”
Aurelia smiled. “Many of us, yes. We absorb and manipulate the energy of the earth, and most often that’s channeled into healing. But there are also earthwielders who support our agriculture, and we can all manipulate the earth.”
Isla felt her eyebrows lift. “You grow crops? In the mountains?”
Aurelia’s smile grew, “There’s more than just mountains in Vaelora.
But yes, we draw life from the arid land.
Nothing like your people are able to achieve with the lush lands in Terravern, of course.
Other earthwielders work as manufacturers, stonesmiths, artisans.
My aunt was a sculptor — she could coax granite to flow like water, then freeze it into impossible shapes. ”
Aurelia's voice glowed with an affectionate pride that caught Isla off balance. She'd never thought of fae magic as anything beyond an unnatural manipulation of the elements to serve war and survival.
"That must have been beautiful," Isla said quietly.
Aurelia's smile softened into something more wistful, "It was."
Isla's chest tightened uncomfortably as she folded her arms across her body.
Sculptors. Farmers. Artisans. An entire society she'd reduced to "cold-blooded warriors" who cared nothing for humans and used them as sacrificial lambs in their political machinations.
Because it was easier to hate them all than to admit that the fae who'd conscripted her parents were individuals who had made their own choices.
Her eyes drifted to Vaelin, who now stood with his arms crossed, that muscle in his jaw ticking as he recalculated their options.
He'd been willing to die protecting her. Aurelia had offered healing without hesitation, and had accepted Isla’s refusal gracefully.
Evric reminded her of some strange combination of Cael and Oren, two people she loved enormously.
How many more ways would they need to prove her wrong before she stopped flinching every time they used their magic?
Vaelin listened with half an ear to the conversation, while contingency plans flashed through his mind.
A debris field that would take days, if not weeks to clear.
They didn’t have this kind of time. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his expression blank as he considered the alternatives, each one worse than the last. He slid down the cliff he’d scaled, landing softly on both feet.
His eyes flicked over Isla, where she stood staring at the aftermath of the landslide, rubbing her chest as though it threatened to cave in. He ground his teeth.
“We’ll have to head back through Vaelora,” Aurelia was saying, cutting into his thoughts.
“We’ll get word to the King, ask him to send more fae to work on clearing the debris.
The Waterborne could help to soften the ground for the earthwielders.
The Pass will need to be cleared either way in order to preserve the economy. ”
Vaelin shook his head sharply. “No time. Getting all the way to Vaelastris and back would take weeks. These weather events, the illness… they’re only going to get worse.”
“Then we go to Glenaura, ask for the Earthborne to aid in the clearing efforts ourselves,” she countered. “We can send a bird to Vaelastris from there.”
Vaelin ground his teeth. Glenaura was half the distance to Vaelastris, sitting just past the Vaeloran mouth of the Pass.
Still, he didn’t like the added time of travelling there and doubling back - four, at the least - let alone the time it would take the Earthborne to successfully clear the debris.
“Still too long,” he grunted.
“What if we backtrack through Vaelora and cross through the Windspires?” Evric suggested, but his tone was wary.
“Absolutely not,” Vaelin snarled, shutting down the idea immediately. “The climb and altitude would be too harsh even for us, never mind a human. That range also borders a completely uncharted portion of the sands. Locating ruins to shelter in would be like finding a needle in a haystack.”
“What are the Windspires?” Isla asked, annoyance lacing her tone. He knew she hated having to rely on others, and she knew so little of this realm.
He looked to her, his eyes determined. “A wicked mountain range bordering Vaelora and Dunovar. There’s no man-made path through, and the range is made up of some of the highest peaks in Vaelora. It would be a vertical climb through ice and blizzards, dodging frequent avalanches and snow leopards.”
“Oh, is that all?” Isla asked, paling slightly.
“Glenaura is the best option,” Aurelia argued.
But Vaelin shook his head. “There’s no time,” he repeated.
“There is no other option. Unless—” Evric blanched, cutting off abruptly.
Vaelin looked at him meaningfully but remained silent. Evric’s jaw tightened as he pressed his lips into a fine line, his eyes seeming to glow with embers.
Aurelia’s look of confusion was short-lived as she glanced between the two men, her furrowed brow melting into a look of disbelief. “Vaelin, no. It would be suicide.”
“So would the Spires,” he growled, hands curling into fists at his sides.
“What would?” Isla asked.
Vaelin ground his teeth, his jaw tight. “The Skybridge.”
“What’s the—?”
“A death sentence,” Evric said.
Vaelin frowned at him, then looked back to Isla. “It’s a man-made bridge that reaches across the Pass. It’s the only other route we could take to reach the Market — and Dunovar — without waiting for the debris field to be cleared.”
“Okay, well that sounds like the obvious solution,” Isla said, shaking her head in confusion. “What’s so bad about a bridge?”
Vaelin hesitated, swallowing, and Evric answered for him. “It stretches across two of the tallest mountains in the Pass — ten thousand foot peaks, easy. A punishing altitude, with no railings, gale force winds, and little to no visibility. Everything beneath the bridge is clouds and mist.”
A moment of tense quiet passed between the group, and Isla felt her heart pound against her chest, like it was trying to find a way out of her body. “And this is a better option than the Spires?” she said finally, her voice strained.
“Well, hiking the Spires is certain death, whereas the bridge is only probable death,” Evric noted.
“I can manage the winds,” Vaelin growled.
“What does that mean?” Isla asked, trying and failing to mask her anxiety.
“The only people who really use the Skybridge are windwielders,” Aurelia explained. “They can use their magic to manipulate the winds in their favour, or at the very least, shield against them.”
“I can shield us all,” Vaelin insisted.
“You’re worried she won’t survive the Spires, but the bridge isn’t much better,” Evric argued, gesturing to Isla.
“Isla will be fine,” Vaelin argued irritably.
He looked to her, her green eyes wide, and exhaled.
“It will be a difficult climb. We have a lot of elevation to cover. The path isn’t as clear as the one we’ve been hiking.
We’ll need to backtrack to the turnoff before we begin our ascent.
It will take us all of today to reach the summit, but we should be there just before dark.
We’ll rest the evening, then cross in the morning. ”
He watched as she swallowed, hands shaking as she buried them in the pockets of her borrowed cloak, likely hoping no one would notice.
His jaw was set with grim determination as he watched her consider.
He could get her across — get all of them across.
And despite the terror he knew clawed at her throat, slowly, he saw her belief in that fact settle in her eyes.
After a long moment, she nodded, and he returned the gesture, adrenaline thrumming through his body.
“Let’s go.”