by Jan Harman
“Shade taught me to vibe ski last winter,” he stammered.
“But, Rylan, you’re not rated to ski above beginner.” Meadow cried harder, her good hand clinging to his arm.
I took a deep breath, bracing for the paralyzing cold that stole my energy. Air that was almost lukewarm eased a bit of the tightness around my chest. I moved Rylan’s hand from in front of my face and pressed it onto his sister’s chest. My cheeks were too stiff to manage much of a smile of thanks. “The picnic area is nearby,” I said, striving to sound reassuring when I’d just gotten a lesson on vibe levels before dinner.
His eyes flicked over to Meadow’s drawn face and back to mine. I saw the question and the stubbornness written across his youthful features. The down coat hid too much of his body. I prayed his answer would be yes. “Are you strong enough to carry Meadow?”
“Maybe?” he said uncertainly. When Meadow whimpered, his face turned hard like I’d seen on Shade when he was determined. “Boys of the clan bulk up sooner than human boys. But what about you?”
“I’m not hurt. Meadow needs medical attention. From what I could tell this seems to be localized. You’ve just got to get down out of it, and you’ll be able to get her help.”
A gust swept around the boulders, shoving me sideways into Rylan. I used the moment to speak directly into his ear. “Only you can get Meadow out of here before she goes into shock. Everyone will be meeting up at the parking lot. Medical help will be there. Your family will be there. They’re probably already searching.”
He clutched his sister’s uninjured hand to his chest. “But I can’t leave you. Don’t you see? I’m a Whisperer and you’re the heir, and human.” Wide-eyed he stared at the drift that had formed behind my back, his lips moving as though he were trying to work out a solution.
I turned away, so he wouldn’t be swayed by my uncertainties. I had to get them out of here before we were buried. “I got up here, right? Now I’m going to help get Meadow into your arms. Hurry, before you’re too cold to move,” I ordered before he had time to think. Meadow sobbed and clung to my hand. I had to force her to wrap her good arm around Rylan’s neck.
“Short burst. Kneel down, rest, and then go again. Don’t be reckless. Keep your speed low. It’s slick and gusty. If you wipe out, it could be a while before you’re found, too long,” I shouted, staring hard into Rylan’s pale green eyes. His gaze lowered to Meadow’s drawn face and he nodded. I knew he understood. “Get going. Watch out for that cluster of pine trees we passed on the way up here.”
“I’ll remember,” Rylan said confidently, so like a miniature version of Shade that for a second all I could see was Shade’s body twisting out of control.
The snow swallowed them almost instantaneously. Alone with the howling wind for company, I prayed I hadn’t sent them to die. Now it was time to consider my options. The scary truth was that I hadn’t the strength left to follow them down the mountain, even if my leg held up. Rylan would send help, but that could take a while. For all I knew, others had been injured or had gotten lost in the freak storm. If I could just get out of this wind, maybe find a recess that I could squeeze into, I could wait it out. Somebody would come.
I shook off the accumulation of heavy snow, envying Rylan’s ability to vibe warmth to frozen extremities. Next, I orientated myself by keeping the rock face along my right side. Just in case, I trailed my hand across its icy surface. I staggered forward unable to see more than a few inches in front of my face, sinking often up to my knees in the loose powder.
Hope flared when my hand and then my arm slid inside the recess. I envisioned barging into some creature’s home. It had better like to share. The wail of a banshee swooped from the overhead ledges. Its earsplitting cry and the frenzied snow ignited my imagination, transforming stone into a man’s profile. I gulped and wobbled on my feet, my hand reaching blindly for the recess. As I turned, a brutal gust smacked the center of my back, shoving me into the saw-toothed entrance. With a sharp cry, I folded at the waist, air emptying out of my lungs. My vision swam, and I slid down to my knees. Tears froze to my cheeks from the cry I couldn’t vocalize. Agonizing moments ticked by as I waited helplessly for my lungs to expand.
Move or freeze. I planted my crutch in the snow; it sunk past the hand grip. I clawed overhead with my right hand, feeling blindly for the entrance. Flexed fingers—trapped inside stiff gloves caked in snow—scraped uselessly across slick rocks. I strained to reach higher, hooked my arm around stone, and pulled. The sandpaper finish of the rock face tore through fabric and into skin. I gritted my teeth and dragged my quivering body into a semi-upright stance. I felt a rumble travel through the thick soles of my boots. A sinking sensation uncoiled in the pit of my stomach. My brows creased as I stared at the rippling motion racing across the surface of the snow, crumbling wind-swept ridge lines. A hole opened up, sucking my crutch out of my numb grip. My first decent lungful of air tore out of my chest as a shrill, panicked scream. I lunged for the recess, scrambling to get inside before I got sucked away like my lost crutch.
For several tense minutes I was occupied by my mid-section that hurt like I’d been punched in the gut. Frigid gust whistled through the opening, pelting me with snow that quickly piled up in front of the entrance. Oh, God, I was being buried alive. The world closed in. I couldn’t catch my breath. Don’t be a baby. This isn’t like the accident. People know I’m out here. Skiers get rescued. I’d seen it on television. I’d beaten worse. Do something!
I shoved snow out the entrance to keep it clear for my rescuers. The movement churned up my sour stomach. I swallowed down the acid in the back of my mouth. Bongo drums started another set. The mound of snow by my feet kept growing. I tried to kick it clear with my right foot, but my boot was stuck. I pulled, felt it bind, and then with a ripping sound it broke free. Pain tore through my calf. I wormed a glove down the side of my leg. Blood. Not the other leg!
Shivers that I couldn’t stop occupied my sleepy mind. Instead of acting, I dreamed of knocking on a door and begging for help as frozen tears dropped like diamonds at my feet.
Clink. Listen. Clink. Shivers tapped my buckle against rock.
The cramped space made it difficult to work my belt off with hands that burned inside their wet gloves. I tugged, feeling the belt slide the last bit and come free. Frantic I scraped, exposing more rock. Exceptional hearing, Shade had boasted. I banged the buckle against the rock as hard as I could. Someone would be looking. Someone would hear.
Chapter 18
“Don’t you dare be dead,” a desperate voice said in my dream.
Something warm grazed my neck. The slight pressure perforated the paper-thin layer of numbness that sealed me from my reality. Trapped. Cold, terribly cold. Wet. Blood or Gasoline?
“Olivia, open your eyes. This is no time for a drama moment,” the voice ordered.
“Shade?” I whispered airily, wondering why he was annoyed this time.
“Banged up, but he’ll be fine. Dr. Long’s checking him out.”
Freezing water seeped into my boots, triggering violent shivers. I writhed and cried out, “Where’s my buckle. Noise, I have to make noise.”
Soothing murmurs melded into my strange dream as did the sound of my jacket zipper being yanked down. I was too tired and the dream way more interesting to give my zipper more than a passing thought. Cold rushed in, hunting down pockets of warmth. My teeth chattered so hard that it felt like someone had taken a jack hammer to my skull. I moaned and tried to grab the metal pull with numb fingertips. My hands were easily brushed to the side and replaced by a warm weight across my chest. A blast furnace scorched away cold’s frigid grip that constricted my lungs. I gasped and inhaled warmed air. More heat chased down icy fingers burrowing through my body. I sighed in relief then greedily inhaled more heated air.
“Blood is smeared all over. Where are you hurt? Olivia, did you break anything?”
“Shade?” I replied with little strength, confused that he was speaking
in the middle of my dream about diamonds and furnaces. Fingers probed my calf. Leaden arms flopped heavily in the snow. So much for his promises, my Shade was hurting me. I wanted to yell at him. Then I remembered.
Stupid, insane race, I sniffed, reliving his tumbling body rocketing towards the ground. My eyes refused to open to shed the buildup of tears. Stiff fingers scratched crusted eyelashes. I had to see him just in case I . . . “Shade, I’m broken again,” I said piteously.
“It’s Shadow. You’re safe now. Try to stay awake. You’re in shock.”
More delicious heat radiated outward into my limbs from my warming core, easing aching joints. Hot fingers intertwined with mine. Exhaustion tugged me down, smothering me in the heavy world of sleep. Sun warmed I baked on the beach as sweat glistened on my fair skin.
“Olivia, open your eyes. Do it. I told my brother you were fine. It was the only way to keep him down. Don’t make my promise into a lie. Shade hardly speaks to me as it is.”
“Shadow?” I asked, still half convinced that I was buried all alone in the snow.
“Help will be here any minute. You’re not broken. Do you understand?”
Something about the urgency of his words and the way his worry softened the usual acidic edge of his voice made me finally, truly hear his words. Expecting to find a gentler Shadow, my surprising rescuer, I dredged up the last flicker of strength and tried again to crack one crusty eyelid.
A hot hand covered my face, pressing fingertips to my cracked and bleeding lips. I flinched. The pressure spiraled across my forehead. Fingers rubbed across my eyes. Instinctively I braced for the burning, my thoughts coiling inward, trying to hide. My mouth dropped open and I screamed.
Chapter 19
“Until we find evidence to the contrary, officially, the snow twisters will be logged as a prank gone horribly wrong. Citizens are urged to come forward. You know the drill.”
I froze as my aunt’s authoritative voice drifted to the top of the landing. I risked shifting my weight, trying to avoid the board that squeaked as I leaned out over the rail. Clattering silverware followed by a pan clunking onto the counter masked my movements.
“A prank? Is that what they’re going to say about the attack on Shade?” Shadow demanded, his voice rising to a level I easily caught over the slamming of a cabinet door.
“Keep it down, Olivia is resting,” Shade reminded. “Just hear Claire out.”
“The timing of Shade’s accident—while unfortunate—bears no relevance to the investigation of the twisters. Even though he was recovering from a bout of the flu, as team captain, he felt obligated to compete when Troy had to pull out of the match, leaving the team to face a forfeit. During Shade’s run, he became violently disorientated and inadvertently released a wide pulse triggering a massive wind shear. Thankfully, Dr. Long reported only minor cuts and contusions amongst the judges and audience members,” Aunt Claire explained.
“Hold on,” Shadow retorted. “Shade is taking the blame for the cowards behind this? Nobody is going to buy that. He’s a diamond and the best vibe skier on the slopes.”
“Keep it down,” Shade hissed.
Water ran at the sink almost drowning out my aunt’s reply. “People will buy it if you sell it. The council is doing what it believes is in the best interest of valley harmony.”
“My brother could’ve been killed. Your own niece was buried. But let’s not upset anyone,” Shadow criticized. His booming voice bounced off the walls in the mudroom and up into the stairwell. “I had to rev up the vibes to get Olivia’s core temperature up. She was completely out of her head. No way was it a coincidence that the warden’s heir and the man assigned to protect her were simultaneously injured. Tell me you’ve leads. Tell me you’re not fine with this, Claire? Shade?”
“Let me remind you, Olivia went up that slope into the storm,” my aunt replied, sounding exhausted.
“To save Rylan and Meadow,” Shade answered this time.
“Precisely; it was her choice.”
“Just because Olivia wasn’t watching from the rock outcropping, that doesn’t make it an accident or a prank,” Shadow countered.
I missed the rest of his reply amid a clatter of dishes. I abandoned my post, taking no measures to hide my tired clumping. When I entered the kitchen, everyone appeared engrossed in an activity. Aunt Claire vigorously scrubbed the dishes, Shadow studiously dried the pan in his hand, and Shade turned the page of the newspaper. Selective, excellent hearing seemed to be the rule this morning. I coughed, bad idea with bruised ribs. With one arm pressed to my chest and my lips clamped tight together, I settled for scraping a chair across the linoleum floor to get their attention. Shadow stuffed the pan in the closest cabinet, clunking it against the mixing bowls. Shade neatly folded the rustling paper, and then pulled it closer to his face; like the sale flyers were riveting.
“In case anyone wants my opinion, I’m with Shadow on this. One twister angled right past me,” I said, speaking slowly, seeing its progression up the slope in my head. “Everyone saw me go off with the kids, heading up to the same location they used to watch the competition last year. Excellent hearing aside,” I said, looking pointedly at Shade who was staring at me over the top of the page, “the kids were excited. I’m sure they were overheard. If it wasn’t for the steep climb bothering my leg, I would’ve been on those rocks when the twister hit. With my leg and back, it’s a sure bet that I would’ve fallen like Meadow.”
A pot slipped out of my aunt’s hand, falling back into the sink, slopping soapy water all over the counter and her shirt. It took her a moment to notice. Even then, she only haphazardly wiped up the mess, her gaze fixated out the window. For his part, Shadow leaned against the counter his expression unreadable, an improvement over his usual sullen glares.
“It was a good plan. Everyone was distracted helping the injured officials or taming the winds attacking the course. The twisters bypassed the crowds and converged on the one place I was supposed to be.” I swallowed hard and forced myself to say the words. “I was the target.”
Aunt Claire set a pill bottle on the counter next to a glass of water then picked up the sponge. Shade shifted forward in his chair as though he had something to say.
With my eyes on the bottle, I stepped closer to the counter, not noticing at first the squeaking chair dragging along behind. The overpowering aroma of lavender dish soap and lemon scented cleaner had invaded the air, a testament to how long my aunt had been in her cleaning/avoidance mode. “Don’t hide things from me again when these people aren’t content to come at me directly. They don’t care about the casualty count. Rylan and Meadow could’ve been killed just for being nice to me.” I visualized the gazebo tucked between rustling aspen trees, spilling their golden leaves into the corners of the stairs.
Shade dropped the newspaper onto the table and gave me his full attention. “The kids are fine.”
“Meadow has a broken arm, a concussion, and a host of bruises. That’s not fine,” I argued. “The council is willing to turn a blind eye because it doesn’t want to admit that friends or even possibly family members have crossed the line. I’m supposed to act like there is nothing wrong, like Spring Valley is one big happy family?”
Aunt Claire finally turned around. Her shirt, the same one she’d worn yesterday, was rumpled and damp. She dabbed at puffy eyes with a wadded up dish towel. “It’s just a few disgruntled individuals.”
“Is it, or is that what you want me to believe? After spending time with Shade’s family, I thought, maybe I’d found a home. But the price they paid out in fear wasn’t worth it.”
I stepped around the table, ignoring the glint of warning in Shade’s eyes. Personal feelings aside, a debt needed to be acknowledged. I stopped in front of Shadow. Despite his impassive expression, I said sincerely, “I haven’t had the chance to thank you for finding me. You should never have had to choose me over your brother.” I paused and thought I saw a flicker of appreciation in his hard stare.
“I’ll explain. But it won’t make you feel any better,” Aunt Claire answered. “Your grandmother, Kait, fell hopelessly in love with an outsider, a researcher employed by the state’s Fish and Game Department. Her father convinced the council that it was in the best interest of the valley to not grant his daughter the dispensation to tell the young man of her heritage. He went so far as to forbid the marriage. In the end, she chose to leave the valley with the clothes on her back. A few months later, word arrived that she was married. A year past with no mention of her name, then unexpectedly, she showed up in the valley an emotional wreck with a babe in her arms. Shunned by her family, she beseeched the warden to intercede. Clan Pepperdine rallied to her aid. The act, while compassionate, drove a deep wedge between the Pepperdine clan and the Fairdales.”
I filled my hands with items off the counter and moved about the kitchen, putting things away as I spoke. “I get that my dad loved this place and our family has a proud history to live up to, but the best solution to all this tension could be as simple as taking me and the warden position out of the mix. Then maybe the council can get the situation settled.”
I couldn’t understand the astonished expression on Shadow’s face. I thought he was all for me going back east.