I used to call it a beast, but now after what the Phoenix told me, I wonder if I should call it… a girl?
I continue. “It’s powerful, but it’s also part of me. A really strong part.”
“I saw that last night when you killed that panther. I’m not exactly sure…” He stops, frowns, shakes his head, and keeps walking.
“Not sure what?”
He presses his lips together. Glances at me. “I’m not sure how any male has a place in that.”
I can’t speak. My footsteps suddenly crunch too loudly in the quiet. He isn’t joking. In fact, I’ve never seen him smile. Not once. He strides away from me, but I don’t let him go. I catch up and stride beside him, forcing my shorter legs to keep pace. “You never told me the story you believed—about the night I became the Storm Princess.”
“No, I didn’t.”
I wait for him to say more. “You’re not going to, are you?”
“Not today.” He still doesn’t smile, but maybe there’s a hint around his mouth of something that possibly, maybe looks a little bit like the start of a smile?
He says, “We should run while we can.”
We take off again. By mid-morning, we’ve started the trek up Scepter peak. We can see other elves now, some ahead of us, some behind, and the fact that we can see them, means that they can see us. I recognize Sebastian Splendor as one of the elves ahead of us. Rhydian Valor is nowhere to be seen. But neither is Baelen. Half the elves would have been dropped on the other side of the mountain so not seeing them doesn’t mean they haven’t made it this far.
Silently, Jasper and I separate so it doesn’t look as if we’re climbing together. There are two pathways up Scepter peak. The safest, but longest, is the winding path that meanders around the mountain until finally you reach the top. The other, faster path, cuts straight up the middle, but it’s steep. Really steep. Almost vertical in places.
From a distance, Jasper pulls climbing picks out of his pack and holds them up with a questioning look. I forage around in my pack and pull out two of my own. The steep path it is then.
I wish I could take a deep breath, prepare myself somehow, but I’m already way past exhausted. I can’t say how my legs are still functioning let alone my arms. I haven’t had any sleep and a bare minimum of food.
As I face the first steep surface, jamming my climbing picks into it, I start counting. Every step makes a difference. Too soon, weariness takes over. My movements become mechanical. I stretch and pull, lift, consider my next move, ram my climbing picks, place my foot rests, stretch up, and lift again. Every now and then, I glance at Jasper, registering the sheer concentration on his face. I’m close enough to see the strain in his hands and the way his muscles bunch in his arms and legs through his clothing. I try to ignore my own bleeding fingernails.
Every so often, he glances my way, indicating with his hand or the tilt of his head, a better place to anchor my pick, an easier surface to scale. I return the favor as often as I can, keeping pace with him.
The sun rises high in the sky and I have no idea whether we’ve missed the deadline already. I don’t even know what the sign will be. Some sort of fanfare, blaring trumpets, a storm of confetti, maybe a chorus of elves will suddenly appear to sing us home.
Around me, everything has slowed. We’re all tired. The other males are fighting their own demons. A male to my far left suddenly slips, swings from his climbing pick, and almost loses his grip. He scrabbles with his feet before finding his hold again. My heart stops. A fall from this height means death.
Further above me, Sebastian Splendor cranes his neck, watching the male who almost fell. Then he looks in my direction and locates me holding on for my life.
He slams his climbing pick into the surface of the rock, suddenly roaring. “One more!”
I glare at the rock face in front of me, mottled gray and brown. I’m not sure if I can do it. To my left, Jasper pauses. Then he reaches up and strikes into the rock, lifting himself upward. He shouts, “One more!”
Just one more.
The male who nearly fell rests against the rock face. I can see him shaking from here. I reach upward with my own climbing pick, adding my voice. “One more!”
The roar takes up around us until we’re all shouting, a chorus of voices, each of us fighting our fatigue, hauling our bodies like dead weights up the mountain.
There’s a ledge above me. Sebastian has already disappeared over it. Two more steps.
One more. Just one more.
I pull myself up and roll over the edge, lying on my back, heaving, the meager contents of my stomach returning to me. There’s no way I’m throwing up here. I have to keep going. I can’t give up.
I roll onto all fours, take deep breaths, shuddering.
Sebastian kneels a few feet away, his head tipped back to the sky. Jasper pulls himself over the ledge ten feet away from me, rolling onto his back and staying there. The male who almost fell appears over the edge to my left, collapsing against the rock, nursing his injured arm, his eyes closed. I finally recognize him as Eli Elder: the heartstone I accepted after Baelen’s.
I lift my head. Look up and around.
Sky stretches everywhere without end.
It’s not a ledge. It’s the top. I’m at the top of Scepter peak.
Further in the distance, another male stumbles toward us. Bae’s steps are slow like wading through water but he doesn’t stop until he reaches me. Then he drops to the rocky surface, both arms hanging at his sides.
His clothing’s torn. There’s a gash across his chest. His eyes threaten to close with exhaustion but they don’t leave mine. I hold on to the look in his eyes, to the half-smile he gives me, to the whisper of my name, “Marbella.”
We made it.
