The trees around the cave hideout had definitely grown taller since Cheer had last seen them. Or, at least, it seemed that way. Nothing looked quite the same as before. A green haze clouded the edges of her vision, slowly receding as she ran as fast as she could up the mountain slope. One foot, then another. Up and up until her body refused to take her any higher. Then she slowed to a brisk hiking pace and continued her mindless, destination-less journey. Running down would be easier anyway.
The poison still circulated through her veins, making her blood hot. Or maybe it was her anger. That burned inside too, hatred reborn. Creed and all the others had never been family, but at least they were associates, maybe acquaintances at best. She couldn’t necessarily trust them, but they always worked for the good of the group. Well, maybe not Mantra, but he was special. So as long as she acted part of the group, she’d be okay.
Until now, apparently. They didn’t trust her enough to tell her their plans, even the ones that directly affected her. That was part of it. But in a twisted way, she agreed with Creed. She probably wouldn’t have let them go through with it if she’d known. And maybe it was best for the Lost Souls that she gained poison resistance. But most of her hatred had one target: Levity. Time and again, the older girl had ridiculed her, embarrassed her, belittled her. Everything to make her wish she’d never been born. And now this. Cheer wanted to grab her stupid face and dunk it under an ice-cold waterfall.
The bandages on her right arm and calf were chafing badly now that she’d worked up a sweat. The skin around the edges had started to turn red and raw. Still, she left the cloth wraps where they were. Creed might not know everything, but maybe he knew something about this. She’d leave the wounds covered for now. At least until she washed them.
The trees surrounded a small ledge in the rock up ahead, flat enough that she could lay down on it without the risk of slipping off. Still, she resisted the urge to take a short nap. Her muscles were weak enough as it was. Cheer couldn’t afford to lose her mental edge as well. She had to get back up to raid condition. But sitting down for a few minutes and letting herself breathe couldn’t hurt.
Cheer hauled herself up onto the ledge and spread out her limbs, stretching while making sure she stayed away from the edge. She rested back on her hands, one knee bent and the other straight. The trees were just sparse enough that she could see through them all the way down the mountain, blue-grey foliage with the occasional break for lighter-colored rock. At the very bottom of the slope, Hillcrest’s grey-white buildings were visible even from up here. Fields and orchards of different-colored trees surrounded most of the town, with a fourth or so bordering the woods. That part was oriented towards the Barrier Mountains, the tallest of all the surrounding peaks. No one had crossed those for generations. But maybe, just maybe, that’s where she would go when she finally parted ways with the Lost Souls. When her soul became found? She laughed despite herself. Who would want to find her? Anybody who’d cared about her before was probably dead or had already forgotten her. And the townships, especially Hillcrest, already knew her as a thief. She’d have to start over somewhere. Maybe she’d dye her hair. Not something conspicuous like Levity, but a natural color. Yes, that could work.
The faint breeze rustled the trees and tickled the ends of her hair, begging her to return to her feet and join the great dance of nature. She silently declined, instead staring down into the valley. Far to the east, a foggy mist had started to rise, sweeping along in between the mountains like a slow river of white. Cheer pushed herself to her feet, brushing away the little specks of stone from her clothes. She jumped from the flat rock and slid a few feet on the bed of needles from the high-mountain trees. The way back still clear in her mind, she started down in a slow run. She’d beat the fog by hours, but the covers would need to be drawn before the wave of humidity hit. Maybe she’d even have time for a bath in the river before Levity made another snide remark about her smell. Cheer wished she could’ve been around for the early days of the Lost Souls when Levity had undergone the same treatment. Maybe Cheer could’ve returned the jabs and insults. She smiled at the thought, running and sliding her way back to the hideout.
The covers were already pulled across the entrances to the hideout, both the three obvious main-level entrances and the one that covered the flat top of the lookout. Cheer approached the lookout and pulled up the cover, stolen fabric woven with leaves and sticks and coated with needles and sap. Fairly new, by the looks of it. Maybe Trust had finally gotten around to finishing the new one while she’d been sick in bed. She slipped under the cover and replaced it, careful to pull it all the way across the ledge so that no trace of the lookout could be seen from the outside.
Two ladders later, Cheer dropped to the floor of the main cavern. The second level was small, and it still had the remains of the last few scavenging runs, as well as a few empty boxes. She’d probably have to clean that up soon enough. Or maybe she could just push it all into a corner and forget about it, like she had last time.
Trust glanced out from his room as Cheer walked into the common chamber. “Where’ve you been?”
“Out. Where’s Creed?”
“Also out. But before he left, he said there was some fog rolling in. I’m glad you got back before it hit.”
“Don’t be. I’m going back out in a second. I want to hit the spring-pond before the white-out rolls in.”
“Fine. Don’t die. I’ll let Creed know.”
“Or don’t. He doesn’t have to know where I am every moment of every day.” Cheer walked into her chamber and went straight to the wooden boxes in the corner. Shelves were hard to make, and she didn’t have enough to warrant that kind of space anyway. Clothes could stay in boxes until she needed them. She pulled a pair of dark, form-fitting pants from one box and a sleeveless off-white shirt from another. These would work fine. But they didn’t have much style. From the box on the end, Cheer drew a faded pastel red bodice, one or two tears marring its surface. Now that had a little style to it. She pulled two rolled-up hand wraps from a smaller box and stuffed them in a small bag, the clothes following. Bag strap over her shoulder, boxes stacked as they should be, and papers still strewn about. She’d have to worry about those when she came back.
Cheer walked back through the common chamber and down the hallway, past Trust’s silent room and to the cover over the tunnel. She pushed the bracing wood forward, throwing her shoulder into it. The tunnel’s end cap moved just enough for her slip by, twigs and leaves sticking out over the gap. She pulled her bag out of the intentionally-place foliage and kicked the cover back into place. From this side, it seemed to blend in with the mountain, rocks and silt covered with leaves and needles and small branches too small to use in any fire. She turned and started down the slope, watching her feet carefully. She’d fallen here before, scraping herself up pretty good. In fact, she probably should have died. Just one more confirmation that this was a good place to hide from the Hillcrest Sentries.
The fog had worked its way through the valley, starting to envelop trees on the east of the orchards and small fields. She’d have a hard time finding her way back in the mist, but she’d manage. And nobody else would want to be out at a time like this, so she wouldn't have to worry about running into anybody. As soon as the slope started to even out, Cheer turned to the east toward the fog, skirting around the massive crevice in the mountain. On the other side, opposite the hideout, a river ran some dozen meters back. It wound its way down the slope and carved a path just outside Hillcrest, eventually pooling and forming a pond near the mountains. No one knew where all the water went after that. But Cheer wasn’t about to hike all the way west to the edge of the Barrier Mountains.
Towards the beginning of the river, a shallow basin had been carved out of the rock such that the stream–not even a river yet–pooled there and spilled over the side in a waterfall of glorious sheen. The sun, when it sat directly overhead in the sky, warmed the water from ice-cold to vaguely comfortable. This late in leaf-fall, she’d be lucky to have it only a little cold. At least it would be better than spring, when all the snow flowed down and swelled the stream to rushing with freezing water.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
The trees all around the basin curled overhead, making a leafy canopy over the glittering water. Almost like something from one of the old stories. Cheer skimmed the floating leaves off the surface of the pool and shivered involuntarily. Not deadly cold, but not exactly warm either. She pulled a handful of white-and-pink flowers from the rocky soil and tossed the petals on the water in place of the leaves. Smelling like flowers wasn’t very intimidating, but the hideout had enough unpleasant smells already.
Cheer pulled off her grimy, sweat-stained clothing, dropping it all in a pile by the basin. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath of air before sliding into the basin quickly. The cold clawed at her exposed skin for a few long moments before settling down to a tingle. Somehow, the feeling made it easier to focus.
She pulled her head underwater, letting the cold rush around her completely. The ripples on the surface looked serene and orderly from below, her drifting hair trying to copy the motion. But when her head broke the surface, the wind whisked her back to the chaos. She gasped in the raw cold, her heavy hair attempting to pull her back down into a watery resting place. Quit being philosophical and get done already. Cheer raked her fingers through a layer of grime on her arm right next to the fraying bandage. She paused, pulling on a stray thread. The wounds didn’t feel any different after being in water. Maybe they were healed already. After all, it hadn’t been a blade, just a few needles. She cracked the layer of dried blood holding the edge of the bandage on and unwound the fabric from her arm. The last layer required a tug before it came free, taking a little of the old skin with it.
Cheer twisted her head around to get a clear look at the dark spots on her arm. The skin around the tattoo had a green tint to it, similar to the one in her peripheral vision. The miniscule black dots formed… a gear? No, not exactly. The top edge of the gear, right by her shoulder, had slivered separated from it that hung in inked silence. A shattered gear. No doubt Mantra had chosen it. He’d always hated the Engineers with a passion that far out-burned anyone else’s. And since he did the heavy-hitting, everyone else decided to join in the hate. The lesser part of Cheer’s mind agreed; the Engineers seemed all high-and-mighty, living in comfy, defensible caves while the rest of society lived out in the open. But the greater part of her mind didn’t really care. They were people too, and people always acted like that, taking advantage of everyone around them. Let them live in seclusion. She didn’t want to see them either. The only ones she really hated were the Sentries, and they were just doing their job. Even if their job was to make her life more difficult. Fine, let them fail.
The other bandage didn’t come off so easily. Cheer dug her fingernails under it for three minutes, finally relenting and letting it soak in the stream-water when the tears finally forced their way out. But the cold had started to creep into her skin, penetrating all the way down to her bones. A little longer and she might not be able to make it back to the hideout without succumbing to the wind chill. She reached out of the natural basin and pulled a wide, rough piece of cloth from her bag. Normally she’d let the wind do most of the work, but she’d have to settle for a warmer option this time. Cheer counted to three before pushing herself up and out of the water. The claws of the wind returned, creating long gouges of wonderful pain on any piece of skin it touched. Another gasp tried to crawl its way up her throat, but she shoved it back down with gritted teeth and wrapped herself in the cloth. The sooner she was dry, the soon she could make the trek back to the hideout.
Cheer sat on the edge of the basin, her bandaged leg still soaking in the cold water while she rubbed the other dry. Finally, when her leg had started to go numb, she unwrapped the cloth and peeled away the dried bits around it. A wide tattoo stared back at her, wings spread wide. A dragonbird. Trust talked about them and their role in the ancient myths. Levity provided all the gruesome details. Part scaly, part feathered, all fiery menace. This one rose as if being reborn from ashes, trails of burned feathers floating below it. It was beautiful in a very dark way. This one, at least, Cheer found herself liking.
The fog had reached the stream, tendrils of mist swirling around her as she dried the few droplets on her skin that the wind hadn’t already evaporated. The pants came first, pressing against her legs and covering the tattoo. They weren’t quite as tight as normal. Maybe she’d lost weight while sick. She’d have to go find some sort of knife belt and fasten it around one of the legs to get the same feeling again. The shirt came next, missing two buttons in the front. Cheer had ripped the lace off the bottom edge a long time ago, but the roughness remained. The faded bodice went over that, the bottom slightly flared out so that it fell over the high top of the pants. Functional, maybe even a little bit stylish. Certainly not anything the girls down in Hillcrest would approve of, but Cheer cared more about avoiding Levity’s mocking voice.
The heap of dirty clothes went into the basin, where the sweat and stomach acid let go and dissolved into the clear water. Cheer swished them around a few times before pulling them out and squeezing as much of the cold water out as she could. After wrapping them all in the cloth, she stuffed them in her bag and put her boots back on. Making it home in the fog would be difficult. But that was fine. She needed a good challenge.
Kima looked down over the Sixth Spire before turning her eyes back towards the road ahead. She followed right behind Aina, who constantly poked and prodded the ground with a tall, slender walking-stick. They’d left the cottage on the mountain almost two days ago, sleeping under a rocky ledge both nights. The nightmares of the Black Knight hadn’t shown up again. Which just meant she had even more time to worry about the exam, or the ‘Trials’, as Aina had called them. That name sounded worse.
“Aina?” Kima pushed back at her nerves, finally asking the question she’d wanted to get out for the last two days. “What exactly do they test you on in the Trials?”
Aina poked at a rock off to the right of the path before looking back at her. “Lots of things, dear. There are many different smaller tests.”
“Like what?”
“Well, they test you on geography. You’ve seen a lot of maps since you arrived here, and your mind is sharper than average. I suspect you’ll pass that portion.” Aina looked up at the mountain to the left. “And then there’s a history and literature portion. And mathematics and practical science. Not much by way of philosophical sciences. And there’s probably another few I’m forgetting.” She glanced at Kima’s face. “Don’t worry, dear. You’ll do splendidly.”
“But you haven’t even known me for very long. How do you know if I’m smart?”
Aina froze, her head turned halfway between Kima and the path ahead. Kima froze as well, stumbling a little before coming to a stop. “What is it?”
“Hush, child.” Something in her voice told Kima not to question. She shut her mouth and held her breath, peering slowly around Aina’s shawled form to the path ahead. A massive wolf stood in the way, probably as tall as her if it stood on its hind legs. It had slick white fur, broken only by a few patches of light grey. Its beady eyes looked out at the Sixth Spire, but Kima could tell it watched her every move as well. She wanted to ask Aina what to do, but her mind told her to stay quiet and watch. The wolf turned toward the pair, stepping forward slowly and deliberately. Aina stepped to the side, pressing her back against the mountain face. Kima followed suit, eyes staying on the wolf as it passed by. The breeze had stopped and the heat of the sun fell in rays from the thin clouds around it. The silent snarl of the wolf echoed through the mountain peaks. The beast passed by Aina without a second glance, planting its paws firmly in front of Kima and stopping. Its head swiveled up only a few centimeters to look at her, staring into her eyes with its own. She felt as if she was staring at a storm, a force of nature unstoppable. Shivers of fear ran down her spine.
The wolf took a step closer to her on the already narrow path, lowering its head slightly and turning to rub its fur against her as it continued on its way. Kima stayed frozen to the mountain rock until long after the wolf disappeared around the bend. Thoughts tainted with fear and confusion pounded in her head, trying to find a way out. Aina took her hand and pulled her close. “Calm, little one. You are safe now.” But Kima didn’t feel safe. Out here in the open, where the stars stared down silently from the sky and wolves prowled in daylight. How could anyone feel safe? She realized she was trembling.
“What was that thing?”
“A whitewolf, dear. There are many in these mountains, though not as many as there used to be. They’re part of the mythology. The whitefoxes rule the forests and grasslands, the whitewolves rule the mountains, and the whiteravens and morningcrows rule the skies above.”
The shivering started to die down, but Kima still couldn’t hold her hands still. “What’s so mythological about them?”
“They’re said to be Yukima’s eyes and ears in the natural world, preserving what still exists of it. Killing one is bad, bad luck. But show kindness to them, and you’ll find good fortune.” Aina let go of Kima and planted her walking pole on the path ahead. “Come. There’s still a ways to go yet.”
