Chapter 36 Kailin
KAILIN
The trail that seemed challenging yesterday now feels even worse.
The snow has somehow created shadows that weren't there before, and that plays tricks with my depth perception.
Or perhaps it's the thin air creating illusions.
Even the auroras seem different today—sharper, more angular, cutting across the sky like warning signs.
I should be focusing on the trek, but my mind keeps wandering to last night and the kiss that will forever overshadow all others.
Shovia looks at me with a frown, and I debate whether I should tell her about what happened last night, but I haven't had enough time to process it yet, so I'm not sure what to tell her.
I'm probably overthinking it like I do everything else, and in a day or two, I will smile fondly at the memory.
It was just a kiss, and I will enjoy many more in the future, but not with Alar.
The thought is like a dagger to my stupid heart, but I prefer to face reality rather than live in fantasy.
—From the journal of Kailin Strom
After the break, Shovia gave me another loaded look that had a hint of accusation in it, but she knew better than to ask me what I had been writing in my journal. I had made it clear a long time ago that what I put in there were things I wasn't ready to share with anyone else.
After another hour or so, the wind died down to occasional gusts that whipped loose snow into brief, blinding flurries, but the storm had left the mountain transformed.
Every surface was coated in what would have been beautiful if it weren't so dangerously slippery.
The snow concealed loose rocks and patches of ice, making each step a careful negotiation for survival.
"Watch your footing here," Lysara called back to our group, sticking a small red flag into the mountainside to warn others to be careful.
We'd passed several of those on the way, left by the group leaders who had gone ahead of us, and in those places, others followed my example of keeping one hand pressed against the mountain face as I'd been doing since the start of the trek.
The path was narrow, with a sheer drop on the other side, but even though it was easily wide enough for two people, we chose to go single file.
Shovia, being as fearless as usual, slowed down until I reached her and fell into step beside me, precariously close to the drop. "Are you okay? You look like you haven't slept."
"I'm tired and hungry." I told her the truth, just not all of it. "Like everyone else."
She gave me a look that said she didn't believe me but wouldn't push it. Yet. "Did you hear what they're saying about the trail collapse yesterday?" She changed the subject.
I shook my head. "What about it?"
"Break time!" Lysara called out before Shovia could answer.
Our group bunched together on a relatively large, flat section off the trail. The snow had melted from the rocks there, probably thanks to other groups stopping at the same spot before us.
Lysara waited until everyone found a place to sit and took a sip of water.
"I have news that you all should be aware of," she said, her voice pitched low but carrying clearly.
"A team was sent to investigate the trail collapse and construct a sturdier bridge than the makeshift one we built.
They found evidence that the collapse wasn't natural.
Someone had dug out big holes in the trail at key points and filled them with loose rocks so no one would notice. It was deliberate sabotage."
As a collective intake of breath was followed by urgent murmuring, I felt the blood drain from my face. We'd been so close to losing Shovia, Codric, and Baila.
"Who would do something like that?" someone asked. "The Shedun worms can't burrow through Mount Hope. It's a well-known fact that it's made from hard rock."
That was one of the explanations for why the Circle of Fate was located on its summit and why the Citadel had been built on the same mountain range. It was supposedly the most secure area of Elucia. Well, Podana was safe too, but that was largely due to the significant military presence there.
However, the truth was that the Circle had once been a magnificent temple before it was destroyed during the First Extinction War.
According to legends, a beautiful dome had once rested on top of the pillars, sheltering the open temple from snowfall, and underground chambers had once housed a vast library of sacred writings, in addition to numerous artifacts, treasures, and accommodations for the temple staff.
The invaders had destroyed everything, and only the shaman had access to the underground chambers that were still structurally safe to enter. I often wondered why the temple hadn't been rebuilt. Perhaps the knowledge of how to construct the dome had been lost?
"The Shedun have agents everywhere," Morek said grimly. "They could have snuck in among the pilgrims, come up here while people were still arriving, and come down before anyone noticed. It's much easier to trek up here without fasting."
"Or it could be someone among us," another pilgrim suggested. "We don't all know each other."
The implications of that statement sent a chill through our group, and people started exchanging suspicious glances, trust evaporating like morning mist. Naturally, Alar and Codric were the recipients of the worst of it.
"That's enough speculation," Lysara cut in. "As a precaution, we're implementing the quintet protocol effective immediately."
That meant forming a group of five again, all of us roped together, with the strongest and steadiest in the lead, and the next strongest bringing up the rear. The other three just hooked up to the rope between them.
"I'll take point this time," Shovia said, her voice cutting through my rising panic. "I might not be the strongest, but out of all of you, I have the clearest head. The altitude isn't affecting me as badly as the rest of you."
She was right. While most of us were struggling with varying degrees of disorientation and hallucinations, Shovia seemed the least affected.
Still, if the trail crumbled and people needed saving, she didn't have a man's muscle power to pull off a rescue like Morek had done.
On the other hand, a clear head and quick thinking were no less important than physical strength.
I was conflicted about who should be in the lead.
"Who is in your quintet?" Lysara asked.
"Kailin, Morek, Alar, and Codric," Shovia said. "We've been roped together before, and we worked well together. There is no reason to change things up." She gave me a knowing look.
Did she somehow know what Alar and I had done last night? Was it stamped on my forehead that I had kissed him?
Lysara nodded. "Very well." She turned to the rest of our group. "Everyone, form your quintets. We move out in ten minutes."
As other groups began organizing themselves, Shovia pulled out the rope from her pack and turned to us. "Kailin, you're second. Morek third, then Alar, with Codric bringing up the rear."
It didn't make sense to put Morek in the middle. As our strongest member, he should bring up the rear. Then again, Codric seemed like a sturdy guy as well, and Morek was probably still in pain from the abrasions on his chest and stomach that he'd incurred the day before.
As Shovia secured the rope around her middle and Codric did the same on the other end, I attached my carabiner to the loop in the rope. It was made from sturdy mountain hemp and treated with water-resistant oils that gave it a distinctive scent, which I associated with safety.
It was strange that smells created such strong, instinctive associations.
"Check your connectors," Lysara called out. "Your lives depend not only on these ropes but on how well you are attached to them."
I tugged on my carabiner, ensuring it was properly clipped to both the rope and the reinforced point on my coveralls.
"Everyone set?" Shovia asked our quintet.
We nodded, and I could feel the tension in the rope as we all tested our connections. Five people, quite literally tied together. Our lives in each other's hands.
"Move out," Lysara ordered. "Maintain proper spacing. Watch your footing and stay alert."
Our quintet fell in line behind two others. The rope between us grew taut as we began to move, finding our rhythm. Shovia set a steady pace, careful but not too slow.
"There are dragons overhead," someone called from ahead of the line. "They're patrolling the trail."
I was glad of their presence, and it eased some of the tension in my chest, but I was afraid to look anywhere other than Shovia's backpack ahead of me or the mountain wall on my left. We had to keep exactly the same pace as she did, or the rope would get too loose or too tight.
"You know what this reminds me of?" Codric asked no one in particular.
"What?" Alar grumbled.
"A story my mother used to read to me about five little mountain goats who decided to climb to the moon."
"That's a children's story," Alar said. "What can possibly remind you of it here?"
"I can see them right there over at the ridge."
I didn't dare look in the direction he indicated, but I was sure there were no goats there. Codric was hallucinating.
"You know that what you see is not real, right?" Alar echoed my thoughts.
"It's not?" Codric pretended to be surprised. "Damn. They look so real."
"What was the story about?" I asked.
"The five little goats were all different. One was brave, one was careful, one was strong..."
I let his voice wash over me, enjoying the distraction, and when Alar joined in occasionally, adding details to his cousin's increasingly outrageous tale, I enjoyed it even more.
It was nice to hear him sound his age for a change, rather than like a man decades older. I hadn't asked him if he had any siblings, but if he had, he was probably the oldest. He wore authority like a birthright.
The path continued to climb, switching back on itself as it scaled the mountain's face, and I tried to ignore the strange shapes my mind was conjuring, focusing instead on keeping a steady pace behind Shovia.