She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. Nudging the snow with her foot, she took a deep breath and blew it out. “One try. One. If this doesn’t work, we turn back. Deal?”
Taemon nodded. “If it doesn’t work, you can turn back.”
Amma shook her head. “That’s not the deal. The deal is if it doesn’t work we both turn back. I’m not leaving you out here.”
“Okay, okay. Deal,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Amma grabbed his good arm. “Not so fast. Elbow vow.”
“What?”
“Come on. Elbow vow. Didn’t you do that as a kid?”
“Um, no,” Taemon said.
“Here, bend your arm up like this. Good. Now clap your hand with mine . . .”
Taemon tried to follow along as Amma chanted. “Elbow, elbow. Hand. Head. I’ll be true until I’m dead.”
It was an elaborate ritual that ended with Taemon’s palm resting on Amma’s forehead, and hers on his.
Amma nodded. “Now it’s official.”
The first task was to find a walking stick for Taemon. After several attempts, they finally found something that worked. In a way. It was hard to hold on to the stick without any feeling in his hand. The cold only made it worse.
And the snow. The snow made everything colder, slipperier, trickier. Every step meant wading through snow up to their knees. Not only that, but it was also hard to tell what was under the snow. More than once, Taemon stepped on a concealed rock and lost his balance.
Amma went first and broke a path, but even following in her footsteps was difficult. And the effort of breaking the path was clearly exhausting. They struggled forward for over two hours, sometimes uphill, sometimes descending a bit to find a better path around obstacles. As they came around a group of trees, Amma stopped suddenly. Taemon came up beside her.
“What is —? Oh.”
Their campsite. The place where they’d slept under the low branches. The blackened fire circle where they’d stood and made an elbow vow that morning. All that work, and they were back where they started.
“I tried,” said Amma. “I really did. But everything looks different covered with snow. I’m not even sure where the saddle is anymore.” She shook her head slowly. “Skies, I’m so cold.”
“Here,” Taemon said, removing his scarf and giving it to Amma.
“Thanks.” She wrapped it around her neck and chin. “I hate to say it, but I think it’s time to admit defeat.”
Her words didn’t register. He was staring at the scarf. The orange, the blue, the green, and that thread of silver.
“Do you mind if I . . . ?” He reached out, unwrapped the scarf, and took it from Amma.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Taemon held up the scarf and traced the blue yarn with his finger. It looked something like a lightning bolt, the way it zigzagged and split. It reminded him of the river they had been following. Yes, the river. And the orange patch would be the meadow. It was situated perfectly, just below the river. In fact . . .
Taemon held the scarf at arm’s length. He tilted it one way, then the other, lowered it, then lifted it again.
“What are you doing? Has the cold finally gotten to your brain?” Amma tried to sound teasing, but he could hear genuine concern in her voice.
“We have a map! The scarf. The scarf is a map!”
Amma frowned. “Quit flubbing around. If you’re going klonky, then we really do have to go back.”
“No, look.” Taemon showed her how everything matched perfectly with the landscape. “This silver line is the way we have to go. It will take us over the mountain!”
“Let me see,” Amma said, and Taemon held the scarf out for her. He pointed out the rivers and the meadow. “Does it look like the map you remember?”
“No,” Amma said. “That map didn’t have any colors. It didn’t show the meadow or the trees, just the elevation lines. And it showed the path going through the saddle. This silver thread goes much father north.” Amma shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Challis doesn’t have her psi anymore. How would she know the way to get over the mountain? And even if she did, why didn’t she just tell us the scarf was a map?”
“She made the scarf before the Fall,” Taemon said. “But she didn’t give it to me until the morning I left. I’m not even sure she knew what it was, or why she needed to give it to me then. But who cares? We know a new way to go now. We can make it!”
Amma let out a sigh. “We had a deal. One try, then we turn back.”
“This is different,” said Taemon. “Now we have a map.”
She glared at him. “We have a scarf. I’m still not convinced it’s a map. Besides, can you even follow that thing now that everything’s covered in snow?”
Taemon nodded. “We can use this camp as a reference point. We know the meadow was over that way,” he said, pointing, “which means we need to go that way.” He pointed away from the meadow and away from the saddle. “It’s a different path, Amma. Maybe it’s easier.”
“But still, the snow . . . I don’t know. . . .”
“One last try,” Taemon said. “The very last, I promise. If this doesn’t work, we go back. No matter what.”
Amma stood there for a moment with her mouth pressed in a thin line. “All right,” she finally said. “But this is without a doubt the absolute last try.”
“Elbow vow,” said Taemon. And this time he did the chanting.
This was it. If this attempt failed, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to persuade Amma to try again. Either they made it across the mountain by following the route knitted into the scarf or they went back home. And only the Heart of the Earth could help Da then.
“I don’t know about this,” Amma said. “Shouldn’t we be going toward the Republik instead of away from it?”
Taemon shrugged. He tried to steady his stride, planting the walking stick firmly each time. It made him feel determined. Resolved. He was going to get over the mountain. He had to. “Maybe heading away from it will lead us to a place where we can go toward it.”
Amma grunted. “I’m not sure that makes sense, but we’ll see.”
Taemon calmed his mind and let the lopsided rhythm of his stride lull his thoughts.
They walked and walked, this time with Taemon in front, navigating with the scarf, and Amma following. After an hour or so, Taemon’s confidence began to wane. According to the scarf map, they were nearing the end of the silver line, yet they were clearly nowhere near the top of the mountain. They were in a long, narrow valley with a thousand little nooks and crannies. Taemon stopped to look around and compare his surroundings with the scarf. Amma looked over his shoulder.
“I think the scarf is telling us to go this way.” Amma pointed to a pile of boulders that looked vaguely like a nappy brown spot on the scarf. “But it’s a dead end.”
Taemon longed to use clairvoyance to check for some kind of hidden passage, but he knew what would happen if he did. He would weaken himself to the point of not being able to walk at all. That would be no help.
“Let’s see,” Taemon said, holding the scarf this way, then that.
“Look, the silver line goes here, and then it just ends,” Amma said, pointing over his shoulder. “That can’t be right. I hate to say this, Taemon, but sometimes a scarf is just a scarf.”
Taemon looked at the rocks, then at the scarf, then at the rocks again. He hobbled over to a boulder and tried to climb on top, but his legs weren’t strong enough. He looked back at Amma. “Could you give me a boost?”
She frowned, but she walked over and laced her hands together to boost him up. He scrabbled awkwardly over the boulder, then jumped down — though it was more of a fall than a jump — on the other side, taking care to bear most of his weight on his right leg. He looked around. Rocks, rocks, and more rocks. His heart dropped.
But just as he was about to climb back over the boulder, he noticed an odd shadow between two other boulders. Was that a . . . ?<
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“Amma! Come quick! I think I found something.”
She clambered over the boulder and slid next to him.
“It’s a cave,” she said, sounding unimpressed.
“Maybe,” Taemon agreed, but his gut was telling him it was more than that. When he stepped inside, the darkness made it hard to see much of anything. He stumbled over a large rock and had to catch himself.
“That must have hurt,” Amma said.
“Not that much,” he answered. “I can’t feel very much in that foot.” As he pushed himself to his feet, he realized that it was not a rock that had tripped him, but a metal box.
“Take a look at this.” Taemon pushed the box toward the door of the cave, where there was more light. He tried the latch and found it wasn’t locked.
“Wait,” Amma said. “That might not be a good idea. We have no idea what that is or who put it there.”
Taemon turned to face her. “This could tell us about the people who’ve traveled this way before.”
“All right,” Amma agreed, stepping closer. “But be careful.”
Taemon lifted the lid.
“Supplies,” she said. “Food, bottles of water, some blankets.”
Taemon grabbed the blanket, shook it, and spread it out in the weak sunlight. “Psi woven. This blanket is from Deliverance.”
Amma nodded. “Those bottles look like they’re from the city, too.”
“I don’t understand,” Taemon said. “I thought my da was kidnapped by the Republik. Why would he have brought supplies with him — supplies enough for a dozen men?”
“Maybe the kidnappers stole supplies in Deliverance and brought them along on the return trip,” Amma said.
“And left them here?” Taemon said.
“You’re right. That doesn’t make sense. All we can say is that someone from Deliverance has come this way.”
“And that’s a good sign, right?” Taemon looked Amma in the eye. “That means we’re on the right path and we should keep going.”
Amma was quiet for a while, studying the supplies. “Maybe this box was Elder Naseph’s doing. If he was negotiating an alliance with the Republik, maybe he was smuggling supplies across the mountain.”
Amma began packing some of the food and water into their knapsack.
Taemon’s conscience was tugging at him. “Isn’t that stealing?”
Amma stood and looked him in the eye. “We don’t have a choice, Taemon. If you want to keep going, we’ll have to take these supplies.”
Together they packed a few more things into the knapsack.
“Let’s not take all of it,” Taemon said. “In case someone does need this stuff.”
Amma nodded. “We can’t fit it all, anyway.”
At the bottom of the box, Taemon found a flashlight, and before Amma could argue, he used the tiniest bit of psi to turn it on. He felt the now-familiar weakening but tried to ignore it.
“Hey,” Amma protested. “No psi, remember?”
“How else are we going to get through the tunnel?”
“Tunnel?” Amma asked. “Is that what this is?”
“Let’s find out.”
The first part was a shallow cave that looked completely natural. But when Taemon stepped a bit farther in and cast the flashlight across the back wall, he noticed an opening just wide enough for one person to walk through without ducking.
“It is a tunnel!” he said.
Amma looked dubious. “It could just be the way the rocks settled. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
Taemon walked forward a few more feet. “It just keeps going!” He stopped and shone the light on the wall of the tunnel. He ran his hand over the rock. It was smooth, with no marks that might indicate a chisel or a shovel or any other kind of powerless digging.
“It was made with psi, wasn’t it?” Amma said, coming up beside him.
“It had to be.” He marveled at the thought. Only an incredibly powerful psi wielder could tunnel through solid rock. Had Nathan made it all those years ago when he first pulled up the mountains that protected Deliverance? Or had someone — or a team of someones — made it in recent years? “It’s hard to tell how long it’s been here,” he said.
Amma gave a low whistle. “Skies, this might work after all.”
They moved forward, Taemon first with the flashlight and Amma behind him. “I’m just glad we don’t have to tromp through any more snow,” she said. “Tunnels I can handle.”
Taemon wasn’t sure how long they’d been in the tunnel. An hour? Two hours? Luckily it sloped downward, making it a bit easier on his left leg. The air had a stale smell. Taemon ran a finger along the wall and felt a thin film of moisture clinging to it. He expected to see spiders or insects of some kind, but so far the tunnel seemed devoid of life.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Amma asked. “The way we’re twisting and turning, we could end up back on the Deliverance side.”
It was true. The tunnel twisted and curved, and he wondered why. If he were to make a tunnel through a mountain using psi, he would make it straight. This winding path was taking forever.
“This has to be it.” The secret path to the Republik. What would it be like? It was exciting and terrifying at the same time.
The flashlight chose that moment to die, blanketing them in utter darkness. They stumbled to a stop.
“Great,” Amma whispered.
“I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner,” Taemon said. “This kind needs sunlight to recharge.”
He heard her sigh. “Well, there’s not much we can do about it. We’ll just have to feel along the walls.”
Taemon had one hand on his walking stick and one hand on the wall. Behind him, Amma placed her hand on his shoulder. It felt good, like they were connected. It also felt heavy, like a responsibility pressing down on him. After at least another hour trudging through the dark tunnel, Amma squeezed his shoulder. “I think . . . I think the blackness is turning gray.”
Taemon blinked. “You’re right. We must be close to the end!”
“Skies, don’t say it like that,” Amma whispered.
They picked up their pace as the visibility improved. The tunnel widened, and they had to climb over a few more rocks, which meant Taemon once again needed Amma’s help. Finally, they came to a rocky outcropping at the mouth of the tunnel.
Taemon was ready to step out of the tunnel, but Amma held back.
“I need a minute for my eyes to adjust,” she said, shielding her face with one arm. “I can’t even see where I’m going.”
The light was nearly as blinding as the darkness had been. But after a few minutes of blinking and rubbing his eyes, Taemon realized that the light wasn’t that bright; it was just that the sun was low in the sky and glaring right at them. It would be twilight soon. They had been inside the tunnel all afternoon.
He turned to look at Amma, who was staring out over the land. She turned to him and gave him a quick hug. “We made it!”
“We did,” whispered Taemon. “We’re in the Republik.”
“No snow.” Amma beamed. “It’s warmer here.”
Taemon looked again and saw that Amma was right. On this side, they were below the snow line, and it was definitely warmer. Taemon took his jacket off and tied it around his waist. The warmth on his skin felt heavenly.
Everything was different on this side of the mountain — the sparseness of the trees, the vegetation, the color of the soil. The differences were subtle, but this was definitely not Deliverance.
There were no paths this high on the mountain, and the trees were few and far between. Looking down, they could see signs of houses and buildings among the heavily forested hills. The buildings were spread out, not clustered together as a city would be. Some of them looked rather large, though it was hard to tell from this far away.
“What do you think those buildings are for?” Taemon asked.
Amma shook her head slowly. “I have no idea. I guess we’ll find o
ut tomorrow. Right now we need to find a place to camp before it gets dark.”
“Wait. Look over there.” Taemon pointed to some movement far below them.
Someone was running up the slope of the mountain. A woman, from the look of her long black hair and the dress she was wearing.
“Skies, is that a jaguar chasing her?” Amma said.
Taemon looked beyond the woman and saw the blur of a very large cat. “That looks bad.”
It was hard to judge the woman’s speed, but she must have been fast because the jaguar was not gaining. Or maybe the jaguar was trying to tire her out before going in for the kill.
“I can’t watch,” Amma said.
Taemon felt the same, yet he couldn’t seem to look away. “Just a minute. I see more people.” A group of uniformed men was chasing after the jaguar. “The authorities are going to help her.”
Both Taemon and Amma startled when the sound of guns echoed against the mountain.
“They’re shooting at the jaguar,” Taemon said.
Amma shuddered. “I don’t want to see the jaguar killed either.”
“Don’t worry — they’ve missed. Everyone’s still running,” Taemon said.
As soon as he said that, the woman slowed down and turned to face the jaguar.
“Skies, does she think she can fight a jaguar?” Amma said. It seemed she couldn’t look away either.
But the jaguar didn’t attack the woman. Instead, it ran up to her and stood by her side. Together, the woman and the cat faced the men who chased them.
“What in the Great Green Earth . . . ?” Amma breathed.
More gunshots rang out, but the jaguar and the woman seemed unhurt.
She was gathering psi. Taemon couldn’t say how he knew that. It was almost as if he could feel it. Before he could tell Amma what was happening, though, three of the soldiers fell to the ground. The woman was wielding an incredible amount of psi, so much that the air fairly rang with it.
Taemon tried to follow what she was doing, but it was all happening so fast. Guns flew from soldiers’ hands and disassembled as they arced backward, the parts falling inertly to the ground. The disarmed men were at a loss for what to do. Then one by one they dropped, clutching their throats or heads or chests. One man was lying with a pool of blood under his head.
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