was, I want to make it happen with my new companion.
By the time we reach the bottom of the slope, light has stopped pouring in from the clouds above, I’m guessing because the blue sun has set. Darkness quickly overtakes the world beneath the mist, and we rush to prepare our camp for the night. Instead of building it on the ground or in a cave, however, we make our place of rest among the trees.
“Smart of you to keep the rope,” Wade says after I explain to him where I got it from, the first time he’s said something remotely positive in reference to me.
He has rope himself, coiled up and tied to his pack, but rather than cutting it in half so we both have a length, we are able to fasten ourselves and our things up high in the branches of a large tree without the trouble of rationing rope. As he points out, you can never have too much rope in the wilderness.
The night passes in almost complete blackness, though a small amount of moonlight does pour in where the sunlight once did. I try to sleep, but it is hard to get comfortable against the bark of the tree. Still, I am able to nod off now and again, each time waking up to find that Wade remains awake and vigilant, staring off into the dark as though there is something watching us. I become too anxious to say anything or try once more to spark up conversation, having already seen what terrifying things the darkness can hide.
It seems like an eternity passes before the light returns, and because I’m starting to feel safe under Wade’s close watch and protection, my thoughts drift toward homesickness and a longing to be immersed in the light of the sun once more. It gets so bad that when we are underway the next day, I ask Wade if we can journey closer to the region of light so that I can look up toward the heavens again.
“No,” he answers firmly. “Everything this side of the river is going to be wandering toward that light, which turns it into a big hunting ground for predators.”
“What river?” I ask.
“The River Lethe,” he says. “We have to cross it to get from the Erebus Plains, which is where we are, to the Aspros Wild, the region on the eastern shores of the river.”
“Aspros like the flowers?”
“I think that’s what they’re called,” he replies, “but don’t let that give you the idea that it’s anything but a pure nightmare there. The river is wide and deep, not an easy cross at all. Only the strongest and most dangerous of beasts are able to escape the plains and reach the other side.”
“Escape from what?” I puzzle.
He stares blankly at me, the look on his face suggesting that he doesn’t want to elaborate beyond what he already has.
“You’ll see. Today we have to pass by a place I was hoping to avoid, one you’re sure to recognize. The area of light in the plains has widened substantially since I last saw it, so we have no other choice. I think your people simply call it the Great Stairway.”
His knowing the name startles me. Up to this point, I’ve been in a world entirely different from the one I was raised in. The Great Stairway is the connection between here and there, and the thought that I will soon see it makes me extremely apprehensive.
“You make it sound like it’s dangerous,” I say.
“That’s because it is, enough that I actually considered going through the light if not taking an extra day to go around it the other way,” he warns, “but I don’t know if we have the luxury of an extra day to reach Sanctuary. We’re already behind.”
After he says this, I consider the hurried pace he has kept us going ever since he found me, and it makes me even less at ease. Although things in the plains have from what I understand been unchanging for a long time, at least as long as I’ve been alive if not for centuries or millennia, my arrival here seems to be accompanied by a great sense of urgency, one that Wade remains unwilling to tell me about.
“Are you ever going to let me know what is going on?” I ask dispiritedly.
The look he gives in response to the question is one I do not expect, almost a look of pity, like he is holding back bad news and debating whether or not to just break it to me.
“I don’t know,” he says, “but I promise that you will be safe as long as you’re with me. I just need you to trust me.”
Those words make me feel like Wade has transformed into someone else, leaving me unsure of how to respond, so I simply nod. For the first time I can sense warmth coming from him, though I don’t understand why he would have hidden it from me before. I really do want to believe that my well-being actually matters to him, but I still don’t know if I can trust him like he says I should.
We travel south all day, approaching the lighted area while also veering closer to the cliffs. By late afternoon, I start to see the outline of stairs on the distant mountainside. They seem small at first from so far away, but as the evening closes in, I begin to understand how daunting they are, running and meandering down the mountain like a great river.
They are made of the same stone that forms Kalepo’s Northern Wall, but as I consider the course the Great Stairway takes, I realize that it is much wider and longer than any of the walls or gateways that run in or around Kalepo. Its construction must have taken decades, if not lifetimes.
Seeing it firsthand has me completely dumbstruck, though I suppose that I should have been able to imagine it before. Its top, which I’ve seen from the high walls of the Warrior District, is no less extravagant, though it is narrower. As the stairway descends, it gets slightly wider, not noticeably, but comparing the bottom to the top reveals a stark difference.
The trees we walk among become thicker as we approach the bottom of the stairway. The light from above doesn’t quite reach it, stopping about a mile from the mountainside. It is in that narrow patch of darkness that we move quietly and carefully, Wade instructing me to remain silent.
All of a sudden, I hear movement in front of us, accompanied by the rustling of leaves and the snapping of branches. Wade immediately grabs my shoulder and helps me duck into a thick patch of brush near the scant pathway we’ve been walking on.
Once we are in the safety of cover, I start to hear voices, the sound of three men talking. It’s hard to make out what they are saying at first, but as they get closer, the subject of their conversation is clear. We were spotted by someone, or rather, something. The way they speak, that something alerted them to our presence, though they don’t say what it was exactly.
Although I find it alarming that they know we are here, I find it even more troubling who they are. Based on their uniforms, they are clearly from the Warrior Cult, but why are they down here? The Festival of Three Suns shouldn’t be happening yet, and that’s the only time any of the Warrior Cult are supposed to be in the plains. Unless I’ve been lied to all these years.
“We need to run,” Wade says while helping me up. “The river isn’t far from here, and they’ll find us soon if we don’t hurry.”
“Why are they down here?” I gasp as I try to keep pace.
“They’re always here,” he explains. “There wouldn’t be much point in guarding the stairs only from the top. Otherwise, anyone could sneak up them anytime they wanted, or even better, demolish them entirely.”
“What good would that accomplish?”
He doesn’t answer and instead lengthens his stride, forcing me to focus all my energy on keeping up. After an exhausting dash, we emerge from the trees into a clearing. A river forms at its far side, one larger than any I’ve ever seen or imagined.
“How are we supposed to get across that?” I say between heavy breaths.
“Can’t you swim?” he winks at me.
We slow down to a light jog as we move toward the riverside, turning south and following it for several miles. As we approach the border of the light, I keep glancing at Wade seeing what he means for us to do, but he doesn’t flinch. I don’t know why, but the light makes me nervous, maybe because of how leery he has been about it. Yet right now, he seems to be intent on rushing into it.
I welcome the warmth it brings as it immerses us. The temp
erature in the plains had been fairly mild for most of the day, but the evening brought with it a slight chill. Still, the light makes me feel very exposed as I start seeing a number of strange animals. Most of them seem small and harmless, though I can’t be certain in a place like this.
“Over here,” Wade suddenly yells out, stopping at some boulders near the edge of the river.
He kneels down in the water, grasping for something until he pulls out a thick rope, one with strands that seem to be a mixture of different materials.
“I need you to pull with me,” he says, handing me some slack. “We need to tense the rope and anchor it.”
He points at a nearby tree only a few dozen feet from the boulders. The space between it and the river is covered in tall grass and rocks, which should conceal everything. I firmly grip the rope, which feels heavy in my hands, and begin to tug as hard as I can. As I look closer, I realize that some of the rope’s strands are wrapped with metal wiring of some sort.
“What’s with the metal?” I ask.
“It keeps the rope from being cut or snapping, and it also makes it sink so that no one sees it floating or dragging.”
When the slack disappears and the rope becomes tense enough, Wade has me keep a strong hold of it as he ties it to the base of the tree, covering it with even more grass. Once it’s in place, he disappears into the brush behind the tree.
“What
The Outcast and the Survivor: Chapter Three Page 2