Chapter 38
Caelus had us up before sunrise at first light, hiking nearly an entire day with very few stops.
Everything aches. My feet feel less like feet and more like stones that have slipped beneath my skin.
The sky above bleeds toward dusk, and my steps are increasingly unsteady.
There’s been no sign of Kade. No sign of Rhythe.
And I’m not dumb enough to believe we are actually lucky.
They are out there somewhere, plotting. I can feel it.
Caelus leads us through the mountains now to more ridges we have to climb. I’m behind him and Ivy is behind me. Our boots crunch and the air thins with every breath. No one talks. My limbs are sore, and my mind is occupied with the growing cold and promise of a harder climb tomorrow.
We forage as we go. Ivy spots a clutch of frosty leaves that burn when I touch them.
But she stuffs them in her pocket, saying if we can steam them, we can eat them.
I find a few edible roots curled like knuckles beneath the dirt.
Caelus moves ahead, his long strides smooth on the uneven ground, occasionally glancing back to check our pace.
Every time his gaze lands on me it’s like a tug on a cord I didn’t know I wanted to be tethered to.
When we reach the top of the climb, the ground ends in a sharp jagged wall.
It’s not the tallest we’ll face, but after an entire day of hiking, it looks brutal.
Caelus scans the rock, assessing its angle, its handholds, the risk.
“The stretch is short, but steep,” he says, tightening my harness before checking his own. “Axira, with me.”
“Ivy is going to be with you,” I say before I can stop myself, remembering I am getting on a ship when this is all said and done. I can’t rely on him forever. “You can guide her up safely.”
He pauses, looking over at me. There’s longing behind his eyes—curiosity, or maybe disappointment? But of the three of us, he is physically strongest right now since the filler hasn’t kicked in.
“I can manage,” Ivy says. “Heartfiller or not.”
“No, really. We should use your strength while you have it, Caelus. Besides, I’m already strapping in.”
“Axira—” Caelus says, but Ivy’s already started rigging her gear to his.
“It’s already in motion; let it go,” I say.
His jaw ticks, but the cinch in his shoulders is fear, not anger. I’m distancing myself. He can tell. His hands move with careful precision as he explains each knot and clasp to me. After all, I have to get on a ship.
When he’s finished, he asks, “What questions do you have?”
“None, I’m a quick study. Let’s go.”
I climb beside them on my own line. The wind picks up the higher we go, tugging at my hair, biting through my clothes. My fingers are already raw and we’ve barely started. Caelus’s stare pins me to the rock every several minutes, so sharp there’s no way I’m falling off.
“The ridge narrows near the top,” he calls over the wind a while later. “But there’s a foothold just below it—right there, see? Push off with your left, keep your right steady.” He waits for me to do it. I wedge my foot into the hold and hold every muscle in my body tight. Then I step up.
“Good,” he says, keeping a cautious eye on me while he guides Ivy. “Now if we can do that a dozen more times, we’ll be there.” He gazes up, a hand at his brow. “We need to move; the light is fading quickly.”
The climb is harder than it looks. The rock is crumbling in places, and my shoulders burn from the strain of holding myself steady. The valley yawns open beneath us, a dizzying drop that steals my breath when I look at it. I force myself to focus—one hand, one foot, one breath at a time.
Repeat.
One hand.
One foot.
One breath.
Again. And again. And again. My heart races, but I find a rhythm.
Then, I spot the ledge at the top.
One hand.
One foot—it slips.
Ivy screams. Panic flares white hot as my body lurches backward, weightless.
“Axira!” Caelus’s voice slices through the air. My cord jerks tight, snapping me back against the wall with a jolt that rattles my bones.
“I’m okay,” I call out, digging my nails into the stone, pressing my face hard against the rock. My breath is coming too fast, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Balance yourself,” Caelus says, his voice strained. “Catch your breath. There are two good holds above you.” There’s a pause like he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches me climb the next little way, his eyes glued to my feet and hands, guiding where I place each one.
Once the ledge at the top is back in my sight, he restarts his ascent, twice as fast as me. Ivy helps him, pointing out better holds, adjusting his clothes when the wind wrestles them. She’s a good help to him. Good. He deserves that. Maybe they will be fast…friends.
By the time we reach the ledge, my body is shaking.
Every muscle feels like it’s melting into static.
I collapse onto the rock, fingers red, nails broken and ripped off.
My legs don’t want to hold me. My arms feel hollow.
Even my thoughts are slow and fuzzy around the edges.
An intense need to rest pulls at me like an anchor.
Ivy undoes her gear. She murmurs a quiet thanks and Caelus thanks her in return. I unclip my harness with trembling hands. He comes over to help me, our fingers stumbling over one another. His are steady, sure, and quick. When we manage to get me out of my gear, I sit, my legs protesting.
“You did good,” he says. “Are you alright?”
“I am fine, Caelus. Just tired.”
“We have another long climb tomorrow, a break, and then one shorter one.”
“There’s another way,” Ivy says between guzzles of water, and I wonder how she knows anything about this place. “If we hike to the west end of this mountain, it’ll take half the day, but it’s inclined. We can climb the other side. It’ll be one climb tomorrow instead of two.”
“How do you know so much about the Stonebound district?” I ask.
Her eyes cut to me, lashes blinking quickly. “Just picked it up from eavesdropping on Stonebound. They made maps.”
“Aren’t you glad we brought her?” I ask Caelus.
He smirks. “You’re right; is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes, actually, thank you.”
He smiles—a real one this time, not the polite curve he gives Ivy or the clipped smirks he hides behind strategy.
It’s full and unguarded, softening the sharp lines of his face, creasing around his stormy eyes.
Even in the fading light, it breaks me. Something in my chest stutters.
I hate how easily he does that—how one look from him can unravel me more than any mountain could.
My gaze drops before I can stop it, landing on his mouth.
The curve of it. The way his lips part just slightly with each breath, like he might say something else, something reckless, if the silence stretches a second longer.
He doesn’t. Neither do I. But the air between us thickens with everything unspoken.
Focus on the ship.
“Let’s find a place to make camp,” he says, offering his hand to me. Fingers open, steady, waiting. “We rest. Then, we’ll hike west as you say, Ivy. We’ll have to make it all the way to the summit tomorrow.”
“Is that enough time?” I ask, my hand hesitating to take his because I know what it does to me when I let him hold me.
The sharp edges of the world will bleed into nothing, and this close to the end, I need to be keenly aware of every jagged edge.
Still, I reach up. Our fingers brush, then his lace around mine, warm, sure, and calloused.
It makes me want more of him. All of him.
It makes me want everything I can’t have.
“It’s going to have to be,” he says.
I slip my hand in his and he pulls me to my feet. I sway, the weight of my body feeling like it doubled in an evening. He holds tighter to my hand, like he doesn’t want to let me go. And for a breathless, treacherous second, neither do I.
We stay there, connected.
I am stronger because of this.
For now, I need this.
But now can’t last forever. So once I’m steady on my feet, after a few beats of Ivy staring at us awkwardly, I peel my hand out of his. He hands me my water.
“Dehydration will only make things harder,” Caelus says. He picks up our pack and attaches it to himself. I consider arguing to have it back, but the ground feels shaky. I guzzle from my bottle. I need rest.
“How are you feeling?” I ask him as we start the hike to find a spot for camp. Ivy circles around us, keeping her eye out for more food to forage.
“I’m fine.” The fatigue lining his eyes calls him a liar. The Heartfiller is starting to set in.
We find a spot nestled in the trees under the crest of the ridge, sheltered on three sides. Up ahead, a steep drop opens just beyond the edge. Ivy’s yawning before she’s even taken her pack off.
“It’s good you came with us,” I tell her.
“Sure.”
I shuffle on my feet with more questions about what’s going on between her and Rhythe. Why does he seem to care about her, but she seems miffed by it? She’s not a person of many words. But she’s observant. A watcher, like Orrick was. I bet she knows more things that could help us.
“Do you…” I start. Ivy stops unzippering her bag, waiting on me to finish. “Do you love Rhythe? Do you have some kind of connection with him? Or is it just one sided?”
She shakes her head, already pulling a folded thermal blanket from her pack. “I don’t want to talk about Rhythe. I came with you for help. That says enough.”
It doesn’t.
Not even close.
She stuffs something in her bag before crouching near the fire Caelus is building, clearing away sharp stones and smoothing out a patch of ground with the side of her boot. Her movements are mechanical, like she’s working to keep her thoughts at bay.
I try to think of a way to respond that doesn’t push her away. I’m not sure how to build a connection of trust with someone who doesn’t seem to want one. And she’d have to trust me deeply to open up about whatever she’s hiding about Rhythe.
“I don’t mean to pry,” I say gently. “I’m only asking because if you know anything about him that could help us outsmart him, that would keep all three of us alive.”
She unrolls the tent and props it up over the cleared earth. Then she pulls off her gloves, tucks them into her coat pocket, and begins arranging her pack as a makeshift pillow.
“Ivy?” I press.
“I’m second-guessing coming with you two,” she finally says, a bite in her tone. “My fate was already sealed. Maybe it’s foolish to think I could escape it.”
I shift closer, still sitting near the edge of the fire’s reach. I signal Caelus with a subtle shake of my head to give us space. When he is out of earshot, I say, “What do you mean, your fate?”
“You’re worse than my mothers with all your questions.”
I didn’t think Ivy had parents. They didn’t come to the dinner. “Are your moms alright?”
“Their tenement is struggling, but others have it worse.” She shrugs, opening a small pouch of rations.
“You were saying, about Rhythe. And your fate?”
She sighs deeply. “Rhythe picked me.” She doesn’t look at me.
“There is no getting away from him. We grew up together in the same tenement…I shouldn’t be saying this.
” She plays with the ends of her tightly coiled hair, those gray eyes glistening.
“My breeding parents were killed when I was a baby.”
“I’m sorry, Ivy. How—”
“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t know them.” She pulls her bag closed roughly.
It clearly does matter. It matters a lot.
“I’ve seen pictures. But my mothers who raised me adopted me, so I didn’t have to leave the tenement for an orphanage.
Rhythe never knew his father. And his mother, well, she shouldn’t have died.
But Mercyenforcers killed her anyway. So, Rhythe and I were stuck together a lot.
Since we were little, he’s just always been there, through all of it, whether I like it or not.
It was fine. But he’s different now. Still, there’s no escaping him. ”
“Well, we will help you as best we can.”
“Yeah, Axira, but plans fail, and I’m just not sure if I’ve made a mistake. Maybe Rhythe is right about everything.”
“Right about what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“You talk like you’re some kind of sacrifice of his.”
Her cold eyes meet mine in bone-chilling silence. The fire crackles behind us.
“Goodnight, Axira.” She tucks her blanket under her arm and climbs inside the tent.
I try to sleep but can’t. Caelus is in his own tent. I insisted. He didn’t argue. Maybe he’s beginning to see the wisdom in us facing that this power we’ve found between us will soon come to an end.
I toss and turn, my mind sifting through Ivy’s words, trying and failing to excavate more meaning.
I still can’t sleep, and somehow I am also deeply fatigued; every muscle in my body groans.
I give up trying, climbing out of the tent and pacing through camp, hoping the cold air might clear my head.
To my surprise, Ivy’s sitting on a stump by the dead fire, hugging her knees.
I start toward her. That’s when I see it—a glint of silver between the trees.
A rustle in the woods.
Low voices.
A shout.
Then a hiss. Sharp and close.
A blade thuds into a tree beside my head. I flinch back, heart slamming against my ribs. Another flash of metal, closer this time. And from the dark, familiar figures emerge—Rhythe, Kade.
We’re under attack.