by G Sauvé
That’s easier said than done. Not only am I weak from everything I’ve just been through, but my hands are bruised and sweaty. Not to mention the fact that the lip of the shell I’m hanging on to is far from an adequate handhold. It’s only a matter of time before I fall. If I’m lucky, Kara will have managed to position herself to intercept me. If not… well, I prefer not to think about that eventuality.
I close my eyes and focus on my hands. My fingers ache. So do my arms. In fact, pretty much every part of me is in pain. But none of that matters as long as—
My fingers slip. I manage to halt my descent, but I’m now hanging on by the tips of my fingers. At least, that’s how it feels, and I’m too afraid to look. It’s thus in a state of fear and uncertainty that I wait.
I hold on for as long as I can, but gravity eventually does what it was designed to do. With one final groan of despair, I lose my grip and fall.
Memory 71
I have fallen more times than I care to admit in the past few minutes, but I have yet to grow accustomed to the feeling of my heart leaping into my throat as gravity slams me downward. And now that nothing stands between me and certain death, the feeling of weightlessness is accompanied by an overwhelming terror. The only upside is that it will be quick.
It is.
I fall for less than a second before hitting something. For a brief moment, I think the end has come, and my demise is imminent, but then I realize my plummet lasted a fraction of the time it should have. I was over fifteen metres off the ground when I fell. It should have taken at least a few seconds before I reached the bottom. Then why did I hit something after a mere fraction of a second? For that matter, why am I still alive?
I hesitate for a moment, then glance down.
My legs are still intact. That’s the good news. The bad news is the ground stands far beneath them, and the mere sight of it compromises my balance. I instinctively reach out and grab hold of the first thing I come into contact with. As it turns out, that’s the cliff. Its smooth nature makes it difficult to get a grip, yet I manage to use it to steady myself.
I take a few deep breaths, eyes closed to keep my vision from blurring. It takes a while, but I eventually manage to slow my racing heart. When I open my eyes again, I’m calm. Well, as calm as I can be given the situation.
I hesitate for a moment, but my curiosity outweighs my fear. Making sure not to pay attention to the ground that lies far beneath it, I focus on the surface upon which I’m standing.
It’s small—less than thirty centimetres in width by roughly one metre in length—but sturdy. The black, polished nature of the protrusion tells me it’s stone, but it’s not until I remember the similar stone fragments that litter the base of the cliff that I realize what it is.
It’s a step, one of the few that survived the destruction of the staircase. I can’t believe how lucky I was to land on it. I guess not all situations end in disaster. Then again, it’s not like I’m in the most secure of positions. Fortunately, it’s only a matter of time before Kara comes to my rescue. Sure enough, she appears moments after the thought occurs to me.
“Wow!” she says. “You’re lucky.”
I nod, still too stunned to speak.
Kara guides her snail toward me and urges it to a stop by tugging hard on its eye stalks.
“Hop on,” she says as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Of course, it’s a lot simpler than pretty much everything I just went through, but it still takes me a while to work up the courage to leave the safety of the stone step.
“Hang on,” says Kara once I’m seated behind her. Under normal circumstances, I would be nervous about wrapping my arms around her, but I don’t even hesitate before encircling her frame in a powerful bear hug.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “You’re safe now.”
I have no desire to laugh, yet I can’t help being overwhelmed with joy.
“I’ll believe that once I’m back on solid ground,” I say.
Kara chuckles. Unlike me, her outburst is caused by genuine amusement. I wish I could be so relaxed. But I guess Kara has been trained to handle stressful situations. I’m kind of envious. Maybe I’ll ask Jonn to train me once this is all over. That is if he’s still alive.
It seems to take forever, but we finally reach the top of the cliff. It’s not until we’re a dozen metres from the edge that I find the strength to release Kara and dismount the snail.
The first thing I do is drop to the ground and kiss the grass. I’ve never been so happy to be on solid ground.
“I can’t believe we made it,” I say.
“It wasn’t that bad,” says Kara. “Actually, it was kind of fun.”
At first, I think she’s serious, but then she starts laughing, and I realize she’s only kidding. I feel kind of stupid, but I’m all too happy joining in on the fun. The best cure for stress is laughter, and given what I’ve just been through, I’m in desperate need of relief.
It takes a while, but the laughter eventually dies out. Kara and I sit in silence for a moment before she finally speaks.
“We should get going,” she says. She seems sad, and I don’t have to ask to know she’s thinking about her father.
“You’re right,” I say, “but you must promise me something first.”
“What?”
“Promise me we’ll never ride another snail.”
Kara chuckles.
“I promise, but only if you swear not to keep secrets from me.”
“Deal,” I say, offering a hand for her to shake. She doesn’t shake it, but she helps me to my feet. I take a moment to fix my shredded shoe—the one the Velociraptor ruined. Meanwhile, Kara checks our supplies—given all that’s happened, it’s a miracle I managed to retain possession of the satchel. Even more surprising is the fact that our supplies weren’t damaged, but it just goes to prove I’m not completely out of luck. Once we’re both ready, we head off. I’m not sure what awaits us, but I hope it doesn’t involve heights.
Memory 72
W e travel in silence. It’s awkward at first, but I soon grow to enjoy it. Not only does it allow me to process everything I’ve been through in the past few hours, but it spawns a thought I have up until now failed to consider.
What if I actually am a hero?
It’s a ridiculous notion, but it’s one the korrigans believe with every fibre of their being. There’s also the fact that I escaped death nearly a dozen times in the past few hours. Sure, Kara helped a lot, but in the end, it was my decision to overcome my acrophobia that saved me. Wasn’t it?
The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it sounds.
Me. A hero? Yeah, right!
I want to scoff, but all I feel is hopelessness. For a brief moment, I let myself believe I was destined for greatness. And it felt good. But deep down I know it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Still, it was fun.
We keep walking in silence until I hear what sounds like something massive moving through the jungle. It’s the second time this has happened. I’m debating whether or not to tell Kara when we reach an intersection.
Two paths merge into one and continue up the mountain. While innocuous, the sight fills me with joy. Why? Because if our trail led us here, it’s safe to assume the other will lead our lost friends back to us. That is if they’re still alive.
“Should we look for them?” asks Kara, glancing longingly at the untravelled path.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
I want nothing more than to be reunited with Jonn and Korri, but the truth is our friends are probably dead. Uncovering proof of this would not only crush Kara’s spirit, but it would force me to accept the fact that I’m responsible for their demise, something I honestly don’t think I can handle at the moment.
“They probably already passed through here,” I lie. “They must have come looking for us, and upon reaching the cliff, assumed we would try to find a way around. My guess is they con
tinued up the mountain in the hopes of meeting up with us at the summit.”
“It’s possible,” admits Kara. “But what if you’re wrong? What if they didn’t make it here yet?”
“The sun is setting,” I say. “Let’s set up camp for the night. If by morning they haven’t shown up, we’ll keep going and meet up with them at the summit.”
“All right,” agrees Kara. “Let’s make camp before it gets dark.”
“Later. I need to rest.”
I lie down and close my eyes. The plan was to rest for a few minutes, but when I awake, it’s completely dark. A roaring fire crackles nearby. Kara sits next to it, staring deep into the flames.
“How long was I out?” I ask as I sit up.
“A few hours.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s all right,” says Kara, but I can tell it’s a lie. She’s worried about her father.
“I’m hungry,” I say, hoping to distract her.
Kara hands me a piece of bread, what may or may not be cheese, and a couple of lilis.
“You’re not eating?”
“I already ate.”
We spend the next few minutes in silence.
“Today was pretty insane,” I say once I’m done filling my rumbling stomach.
“Yeah,” agrees Kara.
There’s another short silence.
“Thanks,” I say.
“For what?”
“For everything. You saved me so many times I lost count.”
Kara smiles.
“You would have done the same for me.”
I want to believe her, but the truth is the one time I took charge, it ended up fracturing our group. And now Jonn and Korri are missing. Or worse.
No one speaks for the longest time. There’s something that’s bugging me, but I’m afraid to ask. Then again, if today has taught me anything, it’s that the future is unpredictable and opportunities rarely present themselves twice.
“Can I ask you something?”
Kara nods.
“Back there, when we were in the tree…” I begin, but my voice trails off.
Why am I such a coward?
“Yes?” says Kara.
“Well… I was just wondering… Why… why did you… kiss me?”
Kara smiles.
“I needed to distract you. It was the only way to get you to jump.”
My heart sinks, and I immediately regret asking.
“So, it meant nothing?”
“No,” she says. “It meant nothing...”
Kara stares at the flames for a moment before completing the sentence.
“...at the time.”
My heart skips a beat.
“W-what do you mean?”
Kara grows quiet. I wait, but nothing happens. Just when I’m about to give up, she peers deep into my eyes.
“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss,” she whispers.
Joy explodes from my chest. It feels like my entire body is on fire. At first, I think I’m shifting, but then I realize the heat has nothing to do with my mysterious ability.
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” I whisper.
I can’t tell if Kara hears me. It doesn’t matter. Our lips are now so close I feel her breath on my face. Her eyes twinkle with excitement. The pounding of my heart and the crackling of the fire are all I can hear. I can’t feel my fingers or my toes. My entire body has gone numb.
Our lips grow closer. Mere millimetres now stand between them. Kara’s eyelids slide shut. So do mine. Our lips are just about to touch when…
“What the drowned are you two doing?” says a gruff voice.
I jump back, a frightened yelp escaping me. In the confusion, I trip on the satchel and lose my balance. I nearly fall into the fire, but a pair of powerful hands emerge from the darkness and yank me away.
My saviour is strong. And big. Not to mention smelly. There’s something familiar about him, but it’s not until he releases me that I finally recognize him.
It’s Jonn.
Memory 73
J onn is alive.
Kara leaps to her feet, a high-pitched squeal erupting from her mouth, and leaps into her father’s open arms. I’m equally thrilled to see Jonn, but part of me resents him for his poor timing. Couldn’t he wait a few more minutes? It’s not every day I almost get to kiss the girl of my dreams. Then again, that may well be the reason he chose that precise moment to emerge from the darkness.
It takes a while, but the hug finally ends. Kara is still giddy with excitement, but Jonn’s expression is grim. The sight of his foreboding demeanour fills me with worry.
“What happened?” asks Kara.
Jonn doesn’t answer.
“Where’s Korri?” I ask.
The furrows in Jonn’s brow deepen, but he doesn’t answer.
“Where’s Korri?” I repeat.
Jonn hesitates for a second before staring deep into my eyes and speaking the two words I have been dreading.
“He’s dead.”
The revelation hits me like a blow to the stomach. My legs give out, and I crumble. I want to cry, but no tears come. I just sit there and stare blankly ahead as the sadness overwhelms me.
It’s my fault. I told him to go right, and now he’s dead. If I hadn’t insisted, he’d still be alive. But he’s not. He’s gone, and it’s my fault!
No one speaks for the longest time. Minutes pass. Hours.
“What happened?” finally asks Kara.
The last thing I want is to hear the details of Korri’s death, but I’m still too stunned to speak.
“You were about to die,” begins Jonn. I don’t have to look up to know he’s talking to Kara. “I pushed you out of the way, but I got hit, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was flying down the half-pipe on my stomach. Korri was on my back. At first, I was mad, but then I realized he was trying to help. Not only that. He… he saved my life.”
Jonn falls silent for a second, then clears his throat and keeps speaking.
“We kept going until we reached the end of the half-pipe. I thought our bad luck had finally run out, but the half-pipe ended with a drop into a bottomless pit.”
My tears have started flowing. They slither down my cheeks, drawing pale lines in the grime that coats them.
“I thought we were done for until we noticed none of the boulders were falling into the pit. They were swerving and flying off the walls of the half-pipe. At the time it seemed impossible, but I later discovered—”
“We know,” interrupts Kara. “They’re snails.”
“Snails?”
“Giant insects,” says Kara. I considered pointing out snails are, in fact, mollusks, but I don’t have the strength or the willpower to speak.
“It doesn’t matter what they are,” says Jonn. “They were avoiding the pit, and unless we could find a way to copy them, we would die. I was at a loss, but Korri had a plan. He jumped off and started pushing me up the wall using his super speed. At first, I didn’t understand what he was doing, but then it hit me. If I was high enough, my momentum would carry me over the chasm.”
“Did it work?” asks Kara.
Jonn nods.
“Then how did Korri die?”
“I’m getting to that,” snaps Jonn. I can’t tell if he’s angry because of the interruption or merely feeling guilty for what happened to the lava korrigan. “Korri’s plan was good, but not perfect. It quickly became obvious that by pushing me up the half-pipe, he was slowing himself down to the point where he wouldn’t be able to make it over the pit. He sacrificed himself to save me.”
A heavy silence follows the grey-haired soldier’s revelation.
“You bastard!” I yell. “How could you let him do that?”
Jonn glares at me.
“I didn’t. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. He kept pushing me higher and higher until, finally, we reached the end. The last I saw of him, he was falling into the pit.”
Another silence.
“Did you try to save him?” asks Kara.
“Of course,” growls Jonn, “but the pit was bottomless, and the walls so smooth I couldn’t climb down. There’s no way he could have survived.”
I could blame Jonn for abandoning Korri, or blame Korri for sacrificing himself, but the truth is I’m the one responsible for the lava korrigan’s death. Had I not insisted he go right, he would still be alive.
I’m vaguely aware of Jonn explaining what happened after Korri fell into the chasm, but I’m too overwhelmed with guilt to pay attention. I only make out the occasional word, but it’s enough to reveal Jonn followed a path similar to ours and overcame a series of obstacles before finally stumbling upon us.
“We should get some sleep,” says Kara after a while. I don’t bother answering. I just lie down and close my eyes. I expect slumber to remain at bay, but the exhaustion of the day, combined with the grief acts as a potent sleeping agent, and I pass out moments after closing my eyes.
I awake to Jonn shaking me. He looks worried.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, still groggy with sleep.
“Something happened to Kara.”
I’m suddenly wide awake.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Kara’s missing.”
Memory 74
K ara’s missing?”
Jonn nods. The sun’s morning rays peek through the foliage, illuminating his worry-stricken face.
“Are you sure?”
“Certain.”
“Maybe she wandered off,” I suggest.
“She doesn’t ‘wander off,’” says Jonn. “She’s been taken.”
“Taken? By who?”
Jonn doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. There’s only one person capable of doing such a thing.
Avalon.
“What’s the plan?” I ask as I scramble to my feet. I’m still sore from all I’ve been through over the last few days, and the pain caused by Korri’s death is still present, but I would go to hell and back to save Kara.