My thighs burned as each step grew steeper. The train of people from the settlement took a different route than the one from which Hart and I had descended. I wasn’t familiar enough with the peaks and passes. I simply followed the line with only an occasional shiver from the rain, while my body heated from the exertion of carrying the tent.
Fear of discovery drove them into the same wild where we hid Charon. Alysa had told me they liked to stay close to the city, in the foothills, because it was easier to find and bring citizens in need to the settlement. How long would they remain in this new location? How many in need wouldn’t be found because of this new distance between Kavios and the Storm?
Something sticky churned in my gut even as I told myself I wasn’t the one responsible for these setbacks.
Rain pelted my face, and my hair plastered to my scalp. No one in the line slowed. Each slip was caught, and each faltered step was encouraged. The community refused to let one of its own fall.
Were my parents already at the top? Mother would have needed to be carried. Even in her best shape, she couldn’t have made this climb. Father would have offered to carry her.
Another step. I would see them soon enough.
My thoughts slowly circled to the man I’d left behind. I glanced through the trees, down the mountain. The path was a mess, but the train of people seemed to end, and though the familiar shape of Hart’s frame wasn’t visible, I knew he was still down there.
But I couldn’tfeelhim.
Anxiety danced along my spine. I told myself that he would finish soon. He’d be on his way shortly. Maybe the curse’s connection didn’t work like he and Charon thought it did.
It felt like hours before we reached a pass. My clothes were soaked through. The downpour didn’t cease; more trees uprooted, crashing into others as they rolled down the mountainside. Ahead, I could just make out the shapes of tents being set up and people milling in close quarters. We’d arrived. As my partner caught his breath, I glanced back down the mountain.
Very few trailed us. We had been close to the end of thoseen route to the pass. I could just barely see the start of another group’s ascent. The wagon Reid had pointed to caught my eye. The large frame dragging it was as familiar as my own.
A whoosh of breath released from my chest.
I told myself he would make it even as I questioned how I could see him without some awareness of his presence.
Thunder rumbled from above. I didn’t think it possible for more water to fall from the sky, but it did. My feet sloshed in mud, and I worried about how much worse the path would be after hours of rain. My eyes narrowed as I stared at those beginning the ascent.
I willed them to move faster.
Hart was the most solid man I knew. He would take slow, careful steps, even blinded by the downpour.
Lightning lit the sky, and cracking filled my ears as a row of trees near the bottom of the mountain fell. I covered my mouth in horror as the trees crashed downward, demolishing everything in their path. With the trees uprooted, mud slid down behind them, like a wave cresting. The farther the trees rolled, the more dirt turned near-liquid and slid with them, gaining momentum.
The mudslide bore down on the group.
The bitter taste of fear that coated my tongue was his. I knew it like I knew he was mine. Like I knew his litany of mistakes with me didn’t undo the connection we had.
Then a wave of his sadness washed over me. Overwhelming terror flooded my chest, and I screamed as the natural disaster stole him from view.
21
Strength comes in many forms, Ember. You undervalue your resilience.
— ALARIC SARE’S PAPERS FOR EMBERLINE ARKOVA
Time passed, and I stood in the rain, staring down at the last location I’d seen him. More trees cracked in the onslaught. More mud shifted down the face of the mountain. I don’t know how long I watched. Each time I moved to hike down to find him, another tree fell. What help would I be in this?
I wouldn’t even make it to him.
Raindrops battered my clothes. Soaking wet hair clung to my face. None of it mattered. My awareness of him had disappeared with the mudslide. At some point, Alysa cameto stand beside me. Reid hadn’t returned, either. Even with the rain, it was evident that tears tracked down her face.
Eventually, she stood, uselessly wiping them away. “You should eat something.”
I glanced at her. “How can that be your response?”
Alysa gestured to the almost-reconstructed camp. Fewer tents dotted this pass than had been set up in the foothills. I guessed I shouldn’t be surprised. Hart and Reid had still been tearing down the remaining tents. Alysa’s arm shook ever so slightly, her voice a little unsteadier than I was used to, but those were the only signs that she was affected. “I have a hundred people who need me.”
The fracture inside me, which I couldn’t find words to express, was reflected in her gaze.
