Page 10 of Mountain Void

“Ms. Charlie did it!”

Charlie clung to the wall like a limpet. Now what?

“Now let go,” the instructor called.

Let go?

Charlie’s fingers tightened until they cramped.

“Legs wide. Feet flat against the rock,” the gendarme said calmly. “Now lean back. Trust the rope.”

Right. Because you’re hanging from a rope. It’s safe.

For a moment, Charlie wasn’t sure she could make herself do it. But she thought of the kids—of Ellie. There was a reason she was hanging from this rock, and it wasn’t for fun. She had to make this count. So she forced one hand off the rock, then the other.

The rope took her weight instantly.

Charlie gave a shaky laugh, glad nobody could hear her. She hovered there, suspended, the wall pressing solidly against her boots.

“That’s it,” the gendarme called up. “Not you just walk yourself down.”

Walk. Down.

Charlie focused on her feet. She had a vague memory that this was the wrong thing to focus on, but it was better than looking at the dangling rope. One careful step. Then another. Her legs shook, but the rope held.

Applause broke out below as she reached the ground. Several voices shouted, asking to go next. She looked at Ellie and found her smiling.

Success.

“Let me unclip this,” the gendarme said, “and you’ll be free. I’m Kat, by the way.”

“Charlie.”

“I guessed, from the chanting.”

Charlie smiled despite herself. A laugh bubbled up. Maybe Kat was right. Maybe climbing was a bit like flying. Maybe—

Her scalp prickled—a literal moment of awareness.

Charlie stiffened.

There’s nothing there. Nothing there.

She turned anyway.

Lorenz.

He stood just beyond the safety barrier, a few meters from the wall. Surrounded by another group of children.

All breath left her lungs.

His jacket was unzipped; the uniform familiar and new all at once. She remembered—as if it’d happened yesterday, the way that jacket looked draped over the kitchen counter. Except it wasn’t the same jacket. The color was slightly darker. They’d updated the uniforms. That’s how long it’d been since he’d belonged to her.

He looked … different. Broader than she remembered. More weathered. The same posture, though. So handsome that it hurt to look at him. It hurt to think of what they’d had together, and what they’d never again have. And his eyes … those familiar green eyes, which were currently fixed on her with an intensity that made her stomach drop.

Forget climbing. This—this was like flying.

The world around them fell away. Kat’s voice. The children’s voices. Everything disappearing, until there was only the two of them.