“This is entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have been behind you, Netta. I could have knocked you off the mountain. You could have died.” Wren’s words are a mixture of sadness and anger. “I shouldn’t be here. After everything that has occurred…I’ve hurt you again.”
His voice is carried away by the wind, but it lands in my chest all the same.
Wren has hurt Chiron and me with his resistance to our vows. But this? This was an accident. He would never intentionally put me in physical danger. Neither of them would.
Chiron speaks before I can collect my thoughts into words.
“Wren, you have to decide. Right now. You didn’t do this on purpose. Put that from your mind.” Chiron takes a deep inhale, righting himself before continuing.
“This trial? This trial is fucked. Climbing a damn mountain? None of my training could have prepared me; you and Netta have no training at all for this. But you’re only at fault for this if you don’t decide to stay with us now.”
Wren lowers his face. His eyes are closed, and his expression is one of battle weariness.
The mountain has zapped all of our strength and resolve. Nothing could have prepared us for the way this storm has stripped us of all comfort and certainty.
“We are a triad because duty called us to be so. The Gods called us to be so. But whether we are the Trinity? That is a choice that we make.” I reach for Wren’s own gloved hand and grip it as tightly as I can muster. “I choose you. Both of you. Will you choose us?”
Wren does not open his eyes for long moments.
Panic begins to coil in my chest, like a snake wrapping its way around its prey.
If Wren decides to leave, what will we do? Chiron and I cannot fulfill our vows or light the beacon without him. But it is what is right, I think. It’s only fair that Wren be given the choices his parents took from him; to be given back the choices the Gods took from him.
“You do not know how much I long for you both.” Wren’s voice is a hushed whisper, one forced from his lips by sheer force of will.
“Whether it is the bond we forged during the Rite, or the one we forged across the land to get here? I do not know. But I have been conflicted for so long. How can I fulfill my oaths to my brother and fulfill my bonds to the two of you? I think I cannot…and it is eating me alive.” Wren lifts his eyes to us both now, bidding us to understand his anguished indecision.
Perhaps before I knew the breadth of his wounds, I would not have understood. I considered the call of Naedra to be something I could not, and would not turn from. But I have found something in them both that I never knew I wanted. Devotion, passion…love. Love has grown in me for them both. They are so dear to me now. If Wren has not found the same, I cannot fault him for this.
“The choice is your own, Wren. I won’t tell you what to do. But I can tell you one thing. My father was not born an heir. He was a man of Caelestis, just like you. He found a way to honor both his scholarship and his Kingdom. I believe that you can too, if that is what you wish.” Chiron says, eyes on Wren alone.
“I choose you both. I chose you the night of the Rite. I choose you every day hereafter. If that means that you go the way of the lost Queen, we will see it so for you. But right now? We have to move. We cannot stay in the elements this way.”
Chiron’s practicality brings us back to the present. I motion for Chiron to help me up, and then both reach out to help me. My head throbs again when I am on my feet, but I do not waver. We dust the fallen snow off all of our clothes, and Chiron picks up his scarf, which was under my head on the icy path beneath us.
Wren nods his head slowly, looking from Chiron to me. His eyes are crinkled, be it from the fierce winter air or concern, I cannot say.
“I will stay, I will see us to the beacon. I need to gather my thoughts before I say more.”
The words leave his mouth, edged in the strict cadence they did when we first met one another that first morning in the cave. Polite declaration said without emotion. I do not know what to make of this. But at present, this is the best either of us can ask for.
We continue forward, but at a slower pace. Wren takes the lead, and Chiron goes behind me. I keep my feet beneath me as we make our final ascent upward.
We come around the final curve of the mountain and onto a plateau that bridges the two peaks together. In every direction I turn, there is jagged rock and ice that make up the expansive range.
While the air is still thin here, the biting wind is mostly blocked as we walk forward across the snow-covered platform. I cannot say how far up we are, but when I look off to the right of us, all I can see is the blowing snow outside of our mountainous enclosure.
Chiron walks slightly ahead of us, almost as if he knows where we must go. For all I can see, there is nothing here but the tall stone beacon in the middle of the space.
However, the closer we get to the beacon, an opening in the stone floor comes into view.
It isn’t wide, perhaps enough for one body at a time. Chiron looks back at me with trepidation, searching my eyes before looking to Wren with a grimace.
“Those steps are going to be dangerous, especially in the dark. Wren, I want you to go first. Take them slowly. I’ll have your back." He turns back to me as he continues his plan, “Netta, I want you to walk behind me. Keep a hand on my shoulder, I’ll match your pace as best I can. I don’t know how far these go down.”
The dark corridor spirals into the depths of the great mountain. Every step we take is an echo, a cacophony of thumps into my still pounding head. The darkness is all-consuming, the weight of it heavy over my eyes, forcing my lids closed. We learn to move by touch alone—the person in front of us sets the pace. Wren takes the sharp turns slowly, and the descent is disorienting. I no longer feel secure in my ability to remain standing. I grip onto Chiron’s shoulder for physical and emotional stability now.
Time remains irrelevant to us, especially with no signs from the sun to guide us. The air grows earthier and warmer the farther down we move. Wren and Chiron keep our rhythm, the blur of echoes beginning to form a beat within my mind.
