Chapter Thirty-One
Dahlia
Iglance around to make sure no one is in sight before heading north, back toward the bridge I crossed just yesterday. The river is swollen from the fresh snowfall, its roar filling the air as I grip the rope railings.
“Dahlia!”
I spin around, my heart leaping into my throat at the sudden sound of my name. Relief floods me when I recognize Sita instead of Ben or someone from his group.
“Sita! You scared me half to death!” I press a gloved hand to my chest, my heart pounding beneath my parka.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to,” she says, breathless. “I heard you and Ben. I had no idea you weren’t together anymore when he checked in. If I’d known, I would’ve come straight to you! Then I saw you leaving the guesthouse and knew something must be wrong for you to head back out so soon.”
I sigh, guilt and exhaustion pressing down on me. “I didn’t tell you when I first got back. I was heartbroken—and obsessed with finding that damn plant.”
I step closer and place my hands on her shoulders, steadying both of us. “Sita, there’s so much I haven’t told you. But I don’t have time to explain everything now. I need to find that cave I was in before Ben does.”
She frowns, worry etched into her face. “Dahlia, it’s dangerous to cross into these woods. The—”
I cut her off. “I know. The Migoi.” I hesitate, knowing how absurd it will sound. “Sita, the Migoi—he’s the one who saved me.”
Her eyes widen, but I press on before she can speak. “And now, I need to save him. I already found the plant—it’s in his cave. Ben is here for it, too, and we both know what people will do for money and fame. Especially Ben. Sita, I can’t let him get there first.”
Sita flips up her hood and pulls the zipper up to her chin. With a sharp nod, she says, “Let’s go. You can fill me in on the way. My family owes him a debt, too. I’ll help you protect him as he has always protected us.”
“I don’t know where I’m going. He might be angry that I’ve brought danger to him, just as I’m bringing you into it. You don’t have to come with me. Really.”
The hope she’ll back down and stay safe wars with the desire not to fight this battle by myself. Her presence isn’t just help—it’s risking someone else’s life for my choices. And if something happens to her? That’s on me. I’m left once again grappling with the question of the worth of my life.
Would I trade her life for mine? If this goes wrong—if she dies because of me—what then? I’ve fought so hard to believe I deserve saving, but what if the cost is too high?
Sita shakes her head firmly. “I think I know where to go. I’ve heard enough stories from travelers and passed down within my family about landmarks to reach his territory.”
She steps closer, her voice softer now. “And of course I have to go with you. What kind of friend would I be to let you face this alone? Besides,” she glances toward the mountains, as if seeking their silent blessing, “surely the gods will smile upon us for honoring a dharma as sacred as protecting the protector.”
“Right now, I need all the help we can get. I’d be foolish to refuse you.
Thank you, Sita.” My voice catches as my eyes sting with unshed tears, moved by her loyalty and unwavering commitment.
I was wrong—I don’t have nothing. I have everything.
Friendship, integrity, intelligence—and I’m in love with a Yeti.
I echo her phrasing, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the gravity of the situation. “Let’s go protect the protector.”
Taking a deep breath, I step onto the bridge, the ropes creaking under my hands as the icy wind whips around us and the river rages below. Sita follows close behind, her presence a quiet reassurance.
We retrace my earlier steps as far as I can remember, the path narrowing as we push deeper into the forest. The dense trees cut the wind but also the light, lending an eerie gloom. We quickly exhaust the extent of my knowledge, so Sita moves ahead.
As we move forward as fast as the trail and weather allow, she begins to recount the stories passed down through generations in her family and overheard snippets from the many travelers who have stayed at her family’s guest house.
“My grandmother always said the Migoi are guardians of more than just the forests and mountains. They keep the balance between the human world and the wild, between man's greed and nature’s abundance. Let’s follow the landmarks from the stories, and if they’re right, we should end up at the caves.”
Her voice carries conviction, each word pushing back against the cold and hopelessness threatening to set in. It’s enough to spark hope. Even with the wind biting at my face and the trail ahead uncertain, I can’t help but think we might just make it.
Hours later, doubt begins to creep in. The trail has become a monotonous cycle of cold and up.
Our conversations have dwindled, replaced by the sound of heavy breathing, and our stops to rest are more frequent.
Both the trees and the air have thinned with our ascent, which means we’re hit harder by the cold and icy wind.
We're both struggling to keep up the pace and look for the first landmark, something about watching stones. Darkness is falling fast, but we push forward, determined.
When we both stumble again, I call out, “Sita! We can’t keep going like this. We need to find somewhere to stop for a bit. We won’t be able to find these eyes in the dark, anyway.”
She nods, gesturing to a rock face ahead.
I return the nod, following her, though every step is longer than the last. My toes are numb, and despite all my gear, my face is like ice.
When we stop, the rocks help to block some of the wind making me realize just how brutal it is.
I drop my pack and stretch, feeling the tension in my muscles.
Sita pulls off hers and, with practiced ease, sets up a compact four-season tent.
Designed for extreme conditions, its heavy-duty poles and tightly sealed seams are a stark reminder of the mountain’s unforgiving nature.
She works quickly, the low-profile design minimizing the wind’s bite, offering us a small but essential refuge from the elements.
My spirits lift at the thought of even a little time out of the weather. I’m beyond grateful for her presence and grab her bag to help. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
She flashes a quick smile. “I grabbed the emergency pack when I left. When you grow up in these mountains, you learn to keep one ready at all times. Let’s rest. We’ll leave at first light.”
We crawl into the tent, and while I’m still chilled, the warmth inside is such a relief. Sita pulls out a small stove and starts heating water. She hands me a sleeping bag, then unrolls her own. I can’t believe how poorly prepared I was for this journey. I really wouldn’t have made it without her.
By the time our beds are set up, the water is hot.
While she makes tea, I dig out the protein bars I had hurriedly thrown in the top of my pack.
My fingers and toes tingle as they warm up, and my face feels like it’s finally thawing.
Our simple dinner tastes like a feast, and the hot tea fills me with warmth, rekindling my energy and hope.
Despite the physical exhaustion, I struggle to fall asleep. My mind keeps rehearsing what I'll say to Eryon if we find him. When we find him, I correct myself.
Still, a part of me can't shake the worry that he won't listen—or worse, that he'll blame me for Ben’s pursuit. And, honestly, I wouldn't blame him. After all, if he hadn’t rescued me from that avalanche, none of this would have happened.
I regret the danger heading his way, but I can’t regret the time we spent together. It was cathartic, and I’ve come out of it stronger. Fiercer. Unlike Ben, who I sure as shit regret my time with, but all these experiences, however painful, have shaped me into who I am today.
The old Dahlia never would’ve rushed off into the Himalayan mountains to save a Yeti. But the new Dahlia does. Because I’m Dahilia fucking Wilde.
But what if this new Dahlia is still not enough? What if I can’t find the cave? What if Eryon won’t forgive me? What if I’ve led Sita to her death? The questions swirl in a chaotic vortex in my mind. A tornado of fear and worry until the anxiety is coiled deep in my center.
I stare at the roof of the tent, my breath curling in the cold air, doubts settling over me with the weight of that damned avalanche. I’ve come so far, changed so much—but is it enough? Will it ever be?
A gust of wind rattles the fabric, and for a second, I swear I hear something outside. The snap of a branch. The whisper of something moving just beyond the edge of camp.
My pulse jumps. Could it be Ben, lurking in the shadows? Has he found us already? Or could it be Eryon? Hope flares in my chest, that he’s out there, watching, waiting. That he sees I am coming for him.
The wind stills. The night holds its breath, and I hold mine, too.
But nothing happens. Ben doesn’t break through the tent walls, and Eryon doesn’t scoop me up in his arms. Sita shifts beside me, her breathing deep and steady, and as I count the thudding beats of my heart, they slowly calm.
I take myself back to the quiet and dark of the caves and the stillness there.
With one last slow deep breath, I close my eyes, and let exhaustion finally win.