“It must be late,” Asa said.
“It feels it,” Avery pondered sceptically. “But how? Where did the time go?”
“I don’t know,” he said unsurely.
Avery tried to hoist himself up onto a tree branch. It didn’t work. The branch was too high for him to do more than just hook his hands around it. He glanced at Asa, and then shook his head. Asa only caught the motion because he was looking at Avery’s dim form. He squared his shoulders and walked determinedly up to his friend.
“What, Asa?” Avery tried to lift himself up onto the branch but dropped down onto the ground in frustration.
“Lift me,” Asa demanded. “I’ll climb the tree.”
“No,” he laughed. “You don’t have the strength.”
“Try me.” Asa could feel his lean muscles tensing under his skin.
“Asa.”
“Try it,” he ordered. “Lift me.”
“Fine,” Avery conceded. “Don’t . . . don’t die. Okay?”
“Sure.” Asa grinned, rubbing his hands. “So, I get to the top and just peek out, see what time it is and then climb down? Easy.”
“Be careful,” Avery warned.
“Will do.” Asa walked up to him and leapt like a squirrel onto his back. Avery stumbled forward a few paces, then trudged Asa to the tree. “Thank you.”
Asa gripped the first branch with his hands and moved his weight onto the wood. The tree held firm. Confidence boosted, he moved to a kneeling position on the wide branch, getting to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, steadied himself on the limb above, and walked down towards the trunk. When his shoulder grazed the bark of the tree trunk, he placed his hands around a small offshoot and put his foot on the branch above him. He closed his eyes, wished, and opened them again. Asa steeled his nerves and clambered onto the second layer. He exhaled in relief. Success.
He glanced up. His eyes widened as he fully comprehended the climb before him. The tree reached right up into the canopy of branches hundreds of feet above their heads. Avery stood worriedly below him, hand placed supportively on the trunk of the huge tree.
“You alright, Asa?”
“Grand.” Asa’s voice trembled. “Just grand, thanks.”
He managed, through luck more than anything, to twist his way through four more layers of branches and twigs. The tree was sticky, sap clinging to his hands like a second skin. It stung as he tore blisters on the delicate pad of his palm. The fifth layer was more of a challenge. Asa tried and tried, but it was much too high for him. He sat down on the branch, legs swinging, and thought about his situation. Avery he could not see, but he knew that his friend was down there, waiting for him to return. He would not do so empty handed.
Vines hung down to this level. It was some sort of thick climbing plant with round green leaves and garish orange flowers. Asa tested one for strength. It held for a moment, and then snapped off in his hand, plummeting the not inconsiderable distance to the ground below.
He tried again on another thicker one. It held for a good few moments before succumbing to the same fate as the last. The last vine seemed to be the same thickness as the one previously. Asa swallowed. It would have to do.
He placed his hands as far as he could on the vine above his head, trying to steady his butterfly hands. He waited a beat, and then transferred his weight onto the vine, pulling himself up as hard as he could, willing his arms to be strong. He was in reach of the next sturdy, tall branch. The vine began to stretch, close to tearing. Asa swung his weight away from the tree, buying time. He was in luck. The momentum brought him close enough to wrap both arms around the next branch up, clinging to it with a vice-like grip. The vine snapped, but he managed to swing himself onto the next branch up.
The tree limbs grew thinner as Asa climbed higher. He was through the canopy now. The leaves arched up in a huge grey-green arc over his head. He breathed in the sharp cold air and gripped up on the next set of branches. Nuts were growing in clusters around the leaves. Asa took hold of a cluster in curiosity and smelled it. He thought for a moment then started stripping the branches around him of their odd fruit and dropping them down to Avery below. He only hoped that his friend knew what he was trying to do.
Asa could feel the bitterness of the fresh air on his skin. He was on the top few branches now, ready to reach up and look out. There was a thick white blanket capping the top of the tree, blocking out what he assumed must be sunlight. He sat himself down on one of the precarious thin limbs and pushed up into a wall of icy coldness.
The snow filled his mouth, nose and ears. Asa coughed and blinked, trying to clear his blocked vision. He opened his eyes, and struggled not to fall off of his precarious perch.
It was a clear, cold evening, the rays of the setting sun behind him illuminating the landscape. Asa could see for miles around, across a vast area that seemed to be blanketed in green foliage. He looked forward to the east. The trees broke down into separate clumps, then sporadic dots, then wide open field. If he squinted, he could see a grey line along the horizon. It must be the wall.
He drew himself back down onto the branch that he was sitting on, buzzing with sudden energy. Body numb, he dropped down onto the branch below, descending quickly to share the news with Avery. His feet hit the ground with a thud.
“Asa!” Avery embraced him, examining his demeanour. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? What took you so long? What time is it?”
“Night,” Asa gasped, as Avery squeezed the breath out of his lungs. “Avery—let go.”
“Oh, sorry.” Avery released him. “How was it?”
“Cold,” Asa complained. “And sore.”
He showed Avery his torn hands. His friend gasped and winced.
“Oh my, Asa. What have you done to yourself?”
“The tree did it to me.” Asa grimaced.
“I see that.” Avery plucked a splinter of wood from Asa’s cut hand, watching the blood from the minute puncture drip down the sides of the wound. Asa didn’t even blink. Compared to the fire burning the rest of his hand, that pinprick was negligible. Avery licked his thumb and dabbed the blood from the palm, stemming the flow.
“Spit stops the wound from getting an infection.”
“I still could’ve done it myself.” Asa smiled.
“Well done.” Avery looked upwards. “You were throwing stuff at me?” He held out a handful of rather battered nuts out to Asa.
“Yeah.” Asa took one and cracked the shell open with his knuckles, demolishing the rich meat inside in one mouthful. “I thought that they could be useful.”
The nut was bitter, like tea which had fallen to the bottom of the cup and been left to rot. Despite this, it was a welcome break from the boring fare that they had subsisted on so far. Asa would have murdered anyone for some hot food, even a plate of Avery’s burnt toast. He yawned and his eyes twitched with tiredness. His friend looked at him in concern.
“How far to the end of this forest?”
“I don’t know,” Asa replied. “A few miles? It shouldn’t be too far. Oh, Avery? I saw the wall.”
Avery’s face lifted in that one sentence. “The wall?”
“I assume so.” Asa shrugged.
“Thank you!” the blond exclaimed. “The wall! We’re almost there.”
Asa withdrew the battered map that the queen had drawn from within his belt. He surveyed it for a moment, then refolded the paper down the worn creases and stuffed it back where it had come from. Avery inclined his head, but Asa made no comment. His friend asked him what was wrong but he just replied with a noncommittal answer.
“Just tired, I guess.”
Avery’s face fell. “How far is it, then?”
Asa frowned. “The wall is fairly close.”
“What’s the problem, then?”
“It’s not far enough along the way.” He patted where the paper lay against his body. “Roughly a third of the way there, if that. This is going to take so much time.”
Avery grabbed
Asa’s shoulders and pulled him off the tree and onto the path so that they were facing the way that they had to go. It was rather cold as night drew in, however unprecedented the change of time had felt. He gestured up the dirt track.
“Somewhere up there is your destiny, Asa Hounslow,” he said. “Don’t be so impatient. It will come when it will come; it would be well that it would come quickly but that may not happen. You just have to keep going. Each step we take is closer there. I suggest we start by leaving this terrifying forest before it eats us or something.”
Asa laughed. “You know how to make a guy feel good about his life prospects, don’t you?”
“Sure, that is my job.” Avery winked. “You know, aside from acting as a nanny for a seventeen year old who cannot even tie his own bootlaces without crying—”
“Hey!” Asa exclaimed. They both grinned at each other before restarting their fragmented journey along the dusty road.
The trees started to thin out as they continued forwards through the forest. Asa was struggling to keep up with Avery’s rolling gait, swearing at his unfazed friend under his breath as his own numb limbs caught on the trees around him and sent him staggering all over the path. His breathing was as light and erratic as usual but more desperate, as if he had a fly on the back of his throat that he was longing to cough out. He paused for a moment, leaning on a tree, and coughed like a cat with a hairball. Avery walked a few steps further, then turned back to see his friend. Asa waved a hand, wheezing out a weak complaint. Avery rolled his eyes in response and beckoned for him to follow.
Asa shook his head, feeling all at once the sensation of the world spinning around him. He couldn’t go on, he just couldn’t. One lapse of coordination on his part would send him scattering into who-knows-where. He opened his mouth to tell Avery this, but instead choked and vomited on the ground. This sent him to his knees, and to his horror he managed to fall straight into the acrid puddle on the ground. He heard Avery hurry towards him.
“Oh Asa.” He looked up. The blond’s hazel eyes were concerned and sad. He was pulled to his feet and only had time to vaguely wonder what was happening before Avery lifted him over his shoulder as though he had been a sack of salt. Asa protested, but his friend held him fast and continued out of the forest as fast as his long legs could carry them. Asa breathed a sigh of relief as green foliage gave way to patches of dark grey, and eventually large areas of sky. It was colder, sure, but he felt warmer inside for knowing that he was out of the shadows of those vast trees.
They were standing in a huge wilderness, covered in shrubs and sporadic lonesome trees. The ground was less dusty here; sand having been frozen into a convoluted mess of a surface with the footprints of the passers-by imprisoned in a layer of frozen water. Avery saw a raised rock and Asa felt his body being placed on the stone numbly, as though he was dreaming. Nothing seemed to be real. Everything was once again covered in snow.
A few moments passed without occurrence, then Asa winced as his friend cleaned his clothes and cuts with melted slush water. This was far too real. It could not be a dream. He pulled his hands away from Avery’s, batting away his caring touch. He just wanted to sleep. He pulled his legs and arms in on himself and settled down for a distracted, queasy rest. The world around him seemed to spin on its axis, the only steadies in it being the rock upon which he lay and the calming voice of his friend beside him.
Birds were singing as he opened his eyes. Asa sat up. His tunic was freezing cold and sticky? He touched it. The water with which Avery had cleaned him yesterday had frozen solid into the material he was wearing. He truly had the best of luck. Asa grimaced as he remembered what had passed yesterday. The taste of vomit rushed into his mouth, and he leapt from his stone seat to rinse his mouth out with ice water. He spat it out into the snow before him, flushing it from his lips so violently that a froth of pink blood joined the snow with his saliva. He crushed it with a boot, revolted.
Avery was asleep, breath misting in the cold. He didn’t wake as Asa crept towards him, announcing with a foghorn voice, “Avery! The mines are awaiting!”
The teenager leapt out of his skin, standing up in one swift movement and searching over the ground for his uniform. He looked quizzically at the snow, saw Asa, and then the penny dropped. He raised a well-trained eyebrow.
“You are the worst friend ever to exist.”
“Noted.” Asa smiled.
“Feeling better?” Avery’s face changed to one of genuine interest and sympathy. Asa did not like the combination one bit.
“Fine,” he replied, loathing the pitying look. “I feel heaps better.”
“That’s good.” Avery did not look convinced. “Breakfast?”
Asa’s stomach lurched. “I don’t think that that would be a good idea, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” Avery was already crunching away on a root or two. “They’re in my satchel if you want one.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
SEVEN
THE ROAD GREW WIDER as they travelled to the east and soon they were able to walk side by side. The birds flitted across the sky like coloured darts, singing their noisy songs. It was not quite warm, but the air lacked the chill that they had felt near Jundres. As they walked closer to the thin grey line on the horizon, houses appeared on the sides of the path and fields of cultivated crops swayed next to them in the light winds. The area was so quiet it was as if they were the only people there.
They reached a deserted town square. Flagstones were overgrown and covered in mud-filled cracks. The hairs upon the back of Asa’s neck stood on end. It was eerie, this silent place. No one called out to them, no one chattered, nothing moved. Even the trees appeared to be dead. He was walking around the shell of a shattered and desolate fountain, when a voice cried out from somewhere on his left.
“Hey! What are you even doing here?”
Asa spun around, grabbing his sword from his scabbard in one movement. Avery looked less astonished. They stood back to back, scanning the row of rickety houses in front of them, their swords held protectively out. The voice had come from the upper floor on the left-hand side. They waited for more information, but for a few tense moments it seemed like none was forthcoming. Asa exhaled and allowed his sword to drop before a ball of light shot to the ground in front of his feet and exploded, smashing the flagstone as though it was glass.
Asa yelped and leapt backwards, heart in his mouth. He held his sword out in front of him; Avery was saying something, but another explosion caused him to step backwards.
“Stop!” Asa shouted. “You could kill us, you fool!”
A thick cloud of smoke from the explosions was around their feet. It was dark grey in colour and acrid smelling, the sort of pungent odour that made Asa feel sick and dizzy. Balls of energy smashed into the ground, white hot at the moment before impact. One of these hitting either of them could be disastrous. Asa swiped at them in futility with his sword, having no idea as to how to tackle the burning hot rain of what seemed to be fiery orbs. They hit the flagstones with a sharp bang, a crack like that of a whip. They were coming too thickly, too fast. He wasn’t sure how much longer the volley of bangs and smashing could continue.
“Spawn of Erebus, you shall not be suffered to pillage our town anymore. Begone!”
Asa saw someone bent over the sill of a window clutching a long pipe in his hands. He had tangled greying brown hair and matte black eyes that seemed to gaze at them with ferocity. He dropped his sword to the ground. Any fight on their part would be hopeless and in vain. Avery refused to drop his sword, hazel eyes narrowing.
“Avery.” Asa locked eyes with his friend. “We can’t.”
“You always say that, Asa,” Avery growled, glaring up at the stranger, who had pointed the pipe at him. “When is it time to say that we can?”
A crack and the flagstone to his right was demolished. Asa pulled Avery to the side, begging him to not be so foolish. Avery sniped back something inaudible, choking on the smoke tha
t was now thick in the air.
“You idiot,” Asa hissed in his ear. “Do you want to get us both killed?”
“No.” Avery stared at the grizzled man in the window, making stony eye contact. The man raised the weapon in his hands. Avery, with a great effort, dropped his sword to the smashed flagstones. It clattered for a moment, and then fell to stillness.
“What’re you doing in these parts?” the man asked, black irises surveying them. “I thought that all of the people here had gone west.”
“They have,” Asa said.
The man nodded appraisingly, finally lowering the weapon to both of their immense relief.
“I’m Parlan.”
“I’m Asa.” He kicked Avery, who had been silent for their short introduction. The blond rolled his eyes but complied without too much obvious aggression.
“I’m Avery,” he said.
“You may take your swords.” Parlan gestured towards the weapons and they picked them up gratefully. The elder man strung his strange system of pipes onto his back and invited them inside the house. Asa accepted for both of them, feeling that Avery’s forgiveness would not stretch so far as to enter the house of his attacker.
Avery stopped short of the doorway and pointed to the contraption that they had only recently been acquainted with. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” their benefactor asked.
“The weapon,” Asa supplied curiously. “What in the world was it?”
“This?” Parlan turned back to them. “It’s something I picked up last time I left the walls. I got powers. This just directs and focuses. It makes me powerful. I swear I could take down a bear with this in my hand.”
His Frozen Fingertips Page 12