Activity erupted around us as people began rolling sleeping bags, packing, and rushing to the adjacent caves to do their morning business and wash up.
"You look awful," Codric said as he secured his pack. "Trouble sleeping?"
"The hallucinations kept me awake instead of lulling me to sleep."
If the name of my hallucinations was Kailin, I wasn't lying, but I was so full of half-truths in this land where honesty was sacred that even this small one left a foul taste in my mouth.
Codric cast me a knowing look but didn't press further. Instead, he turned his attention to helping Shovia with her pack straps, their casual touches and knowing smiles another reminder of what I couldn't have.
"Everyone gather round," Lysara called, waiting for our group to cluster around her. "The storm cost us valuable time. We'll need to push hard today to make up ground and get to the sacred circle before nightfall. If we don't, the auroras cast enough light for us to keep going after sundown, but the ceremonies will have to be postponed to tomorrow, and no one wants that. We are all hungry and we want to eat tonight. Right?"
A chorus of voices answered in an enthusiastic affirmative.
"The path ahead is difficult," Lysara continued. "Stay alert and keep close formation. The snow will make footing uncertain, and the wind..." She looked up at the cave entrance where the morning light streamed in. "Well, stay close to the rock wall and away from the edge."
I saw Kailin's shoulders tense at those words, and my hands itched to offer her comfort. But I couldn't, not after our shenanigans last night.
"Questions?" Lysara looked around our group. When no one spoke, she nodded. "Let's move out."
We filed toward the cave entrance. The storm had blanketed every surface with a crystalline white coating. It was beautiful to look at, but dangerous to trek through.
"It's gorgeous," Shovia breathed, pausing to take in the view.
"It's slippery," Morek observed pragmatically. "Mind your footing."
As we began to form our line to descend back to the main trail, I found myself behind Kailin. She stiffened when she realized I was there, then deliberately shifted to let someone else between us.
That shouldn't have hurt as much as it did.
"Remember," Lysara called from the front, "stay close to the mountain face. The snow will have made some sections unstable."
We moved out in single file, our boots crunching in the fresh snow. The wind had died down to occasional gusts, but each one carried the promise of more storms to come.
"It's amazing how different everything looks," Codric said from somewhere behind me. "Like walking through a different world."
"The mountains are always changing," someone replied. "That's why we can never take them for granted."
The philosophical observation sparked a discussion about the mountains' moods and mysteries, which was heavily influenced by the delirium many of the pilgrims were suffering, but I didn't listen. My attention kept being dragged back to Kailin, who was several pilgrims ahead of me now. She seemed more confident, but she still moved ahead carefully with one hand always touching the rock face.
This was how it had to be, I told myself. Better to maintain distance now than cause both of us more pain later.
Nevertheless, as we continued our climb, I couldn't stop my mind from returning to that moment in the cave—the way she'd felt in my arms, the soft sounds she'd made when I'd kissed her, the way she'd kissed me back with equal fervor before reality intruded.
"Keep up," Lysara called back. "We've got a lot of ground to cover."
I forced my attention back to the path, to the simple mechanics of placing one foot in front of the other. The altitude didn't seem to bother me as much today, and surprisingly, I was free of hallucinations. Perhaps heartache was the antidote to both?
Ahead, the trail switched back on itself, leading ever upward into the pristine white landscape. Kailin walked with the rest of our group, silent and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
She didn't look back. Not even once, and it hurt.
The sun climbed higher as we ascended, making the snow brilliantly, almost painfully bright. The auroras still danced overhead, their colors seeming sharper against the white landscape, but even their beauty felt somehow diminished today.
Some distances, once established, proved challenging to cross. Similarly, some paths, once diverged, never converged again.
36
KAILIN
