Chapter Nine

“It’s almost dawn.”

The softly spoken words jerked Yasmin from sleep. Her eyes flew open. It took her a moment to remember where she was and who the deep voice belonged to. She stared at the side of the tent for a moment. Then she used her arm to push herself into a seated position. The moment she was upright, her head swam and her stomach lurched. Yasmin dropped onto her elbow.

She could hear Ravi moving about outside the tent. She needed to get moving. But first, she had to lay back down. Yasmin lowered herself onto the blanket and took slow, measured breaths.

Ravi poked his head inside. Their gazes met, and a frown formed between his brows. “What’s wrong?”

“I need a moment.”

“Is it your ribs?”

She swallowed and shook her head. “It’s the magic. I’d forgotten just how much it affects me.”

He squatted down, balancing on the balls of his feet with his arms resting on his knees. His gaze was unnerving. Her stomach settled enough that she braved sitting up again. She didn’t look at him as she reached for her socks, thankful to find them dry. A vague memory of Ravi removing her socks and boots filled her head. She hurriedly got her footwear on and then moved off her blanket to roll it. The world swam again, warning her that she had moved too fast.

“Easy,” he said.

They didn’t have time for such bothersome setbacks. “It will pass.”

“What will?”

She tried to continue to roll her blanket, but he snatched it from her. He caught her gaze and lifted a brow, waiting for an answer. Yasmin blew out a breath. “I’m already feeling better.”

Ravi stared at her for another few moments before handing her the blanket and standing. She waited until he’d walked away before putting the blanket into her bag and reaching for the water flask. Yasmin only wanted to wet her mouth, but the minute the liquid touched her tongue, she realized she was parched. She wanted to gulp it down, but she regulated herself so as not to upset her stomach again. She didn’t bother with food. It would only come back up.

Yasmin exited the tent and only then realized that her hair was loose. She didn’t remember taking it down last night. What else didn’t she remember? She’d known there was a chance that some of her memories would be foggy or gone altogether, but it was a chance she was willing to take to diminish the pain. The thought of Ravi carrying her up the mountain told her that nothing short of death would stop him from getting to Shaldorn. She’d made the decision then to only take a little of the magical herbs. But even that smidgin had knocked her sideways.

She looped her arms through the bag and settled it against her back. There was only a slight pull on her ribs—a vast improvement from the previous day when it had taken everything she had to stay on her feet. She felt Ravi’s eyes on her and missed when he pretended that she wasn’t there. His focused gaze made her think that something had happened during the night, something she couldn’t recall. But she wouldn’t ask. It was better if she acted as if nothing was amiss.

Yasmin braided her hair as he tore down the tent and stuffed it back into his pack. Then they set off. This time, he remained only a few steps behind her. The more she moved around, the more the effects of the herbs wore off. No longer did she feel as if she would topple over if she didn’t plant her feet firmly. How she hated that feeling—and the memories it provoked.

Memories that were better left shut away, never to be revisited.

Or acknowledged.

That time in her life was over. She’d made sure of it. When she walked away, that had been the end. Death would’ve been preferrable to continuing on as she had been. And there were times she had begged the gods for death.

About an hour later, her stomach growled. She didn’t pause to take out one of the precious pieces of bread from her pack. She ate in small bites, ever aware of Ravi’s eyes boring a hole into the back of her head. She almost turned around and demanded to know why he was acting differently. But did she really want to know? What if she’d let something from her past slip? Or about the children? Then again, maybe she’d told him how deep her aversion to elves went.

She quickened her steps. They had one final river to cross. She might not have been this way in years, but it was ingrained in her memory—though she had been walking in the opposite direction. She had raced out of the mountains, uncaring where she ended up. Then, she had seen the rainwood and had run headlong into the tangled forest, grateful to be alive. Now, she was headed back into the snow and ice where death had danced around her daily.

Yasmin mentally shook away the past and focused on the present. She felt more like herself, and they were still ahead of schedule. If she pushed hard, they could make the foothills by early afternoon. The Dangerous Peaks were icy and continually topped with snow. Only the lowest parts of the mountains were free of those conditions. That didn’t make them any less threatening, however.

By lunchtime, her stomach was growling loudly. She devoured two pieces of dried meat and the last portion of bread while trying to ignore Ravi’s gaze. If he wanted to talk, he could. She wouldn’t cave and demand to know why he kept gawking.

The spot she had chosen was stunning. The trees swayed with a light wind, the leaves caressing each other, bringing a lulling melody. Brightly feathered birds darted from branch to branch, calling loudly, looking for their mates. She saw delicate clilrillas with their four bright blue-and-white-patterned wings clumped together on the side of a tree.

When Ravi rose and walked toward her, she stood and slipped her pack on. “We’re making good time,” she said and started walking again.

“What happened this morning?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.”

“It looked very much like something.”

If she didn’t tell him, he’d keep pestering her. “I have a slight reaction to magic.”

“You knew that and still took the herbs?”

Yasmin rolled her eyes. Was he really that dense? “I did.”

“You could’ve warned me.”

“Because you care that much?” she asked as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

A frown seemed permanently etched into his forehead. “Because without you, I can’t get into Shaldorn and keep the peace between us and the dragons.”

“That’s right. For a moment, I forgot why I was out here.”

“Is everything a joke to you?”

“Far from it. I liked it better when we didn’t talk.”

He grunted behind her. She took it as agreement and walked faster to put more distance between them. She soon forgot about their conversation and his frown when she spotted the mountains through a break in the trees. The rainwood was dense enough that it cloaked the outside, almost as if sheltering those within its borders from prying eyes.

All she got was a glimpse of one snow-capped peak, wind tangling the snow and pulling it into the air. One glance. But there was no getting rid of the growing dread within her. Yasmin looked away. She had been hurrying toward the mountains, trying not to think about them or what lay in their icy slopes. It had been stupid to compartmentalize things so firmly. She’d done it because she hadn’t wanted to face the peaks or what they meant. And yet, there they were, looming in the distance like a seething beast waiting to reclaim one of its own. Even when the foliage closed in around her again, she sensed the anticipation of the mountains.

She was trapped in a situation with no good outcome. And she ~had~ given her word. She wished she were one of those who could promise something and ignore it later. But she wasn’t. She didn’t have coin or standing, and few friends. The only things she had were her wits, her drive, and her word. They bound her more firmly than any threat could.

Yasmin heard the sound of the river long before she saw it. Every instinct she had told her not to keep going, yet that’s exactly what she did. She spotted the water through the trees. Before she knew it, she was at the edge. Ravi moved up beside her. She watched the river flowing southwest where it eventually dumped into one of the larger lakes, which would empty into the largest of the plateau’s waterways, the Ever Reaching River.

“This way,” Ravi said and turned to the west.

She followed as he walked alongside the swiftly moving water. The river was deep and had rapids in many places thanks to the runoff from the mountain. It wasn’t anything she wanted to chance. She could keep her head above water, but she wasn’t strong enough to swim against such a current or the rapids.

Ravi’s strides ate up the ground to where she almost had to jog to keep up with him. It wasn’t until he came to a sudden stop that she saw what he had brought them to. The rope crossing was just that. Three strands of rope hung in a ~V~ over the river, with smaller strips keeping them all connected. He didn’t hesitate to start across it.

Yasmin watched the way the ~bridge~ swung with each step. Before she knew it, he was on the other side. The look he shot her told her that he didn’t want to tarry. She almost told him to keep going, but she knew he wouldn’t.

She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it as she reached for the rope with shaking hands. The cable was so thick her fingers couldn’t wrap around it. With a hand on each side, she slid her foot along the bottom rope. The cord creaked loudly, protesting her weight. She cautiously moved a step forward. The bridge swayed, and the rope groaned again. The drop to the water would be short, but the bridge also hung over the wildest part of the river because it was the narrowest.

“Just keep walking,” she told herself.

But she had to force her feet to take the next step, and then the next. It was slow going, but she eventually progressed to the other side. When she stepped onto firm ground again, she hoped to never see another crossing like that in her life. She’d swim or find another way around. Or maybe never cross it.

Yasmin expected a rude comment from Ravi, but surprisingly, there was none. She took the lead again and headed straight toward the mountains rising before her. She couldn’t stand to look at them, so she diverted into the forest once more.

The ground became increasingly more difficult to trek over the next few hours. There were sharp rises and deep trenches as they crossed the foothills. Each time she put her hand on one of the boulders, she heard its soft song.

She let her fingers linger there, soaking in the words. It had been so long since she had heard them so loudly. The city noise drowned out the song, but she had also closed herself off to it. But she needed it again.

And the mountains answered.

When she saw the valley littered with boulders and flat rocks lying across them as if someone had placed them there, she knew it was where they’d camp for the night.

Ravi spent a long time looking at the mountains soaring next to them. Yasmin found a place among the rocks and watched a group of cooroda in the nearby trees making a commotion as the beautiful melody of the stones surrounded her. She observed the young animals clinging to their mothers and noted the swollen bellies of other females about to give birth. There were older males who guarded everyone, protecting the group from predators. Younger males mimicked them, learning for the day they would take their places.

“What is it about the cooroda that you like so much?” Ravi asked.

She shook her head. “It isn’t the cooroda, exactly. It’s all animals. See the females expecting? See the mothers and fathers with their young? True families. Each child knows who their parents are. Each parent knows their child.”

“A family isn’t always blood.”

Yasmin thought about the children she looked after. “That’s true. But haven’t you ever wondered about your parents? The mother who birthed you? Did they not want us? Were we taken or given away?”

“It doesn’t do any good to ask those questions because there aren’t any answers.”

“Maybe because we’re not looking for them. Don’t you want to know why animals can have offspring and we can’t?”