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.
