by Jean Booth
The bridge was ancient and didn’t look as if it could hold a feather, let alone our combined weight. A breeze blew and the whole bridge swayed with it. I felt sick just looking at it.
“No. There’s no freaking way I’m getting on that thing. We’re just going to have to keep me hidden in your house. No one has to know we’re mates. There’s no way I am getting on that bridge.” I crossed my arms and stared at him.
He huffed, and changed back into to himself. He was sweating, and had to lean against a rope post for support after his change.
“Natasha, it is perfectly safe. I will be with you the whole way. Come on.” He pulled my hands apart and started leading me to the bridge. I felt my pulse in my throat. I couldn’t do this.
“Please, Raif, can we find another way? I can’t. I really cannot get on this thing.” My shaky breath caught as he took a step out on the bridge. Panic flowed and I pulled against him. I couldn’t get on that thing.
“See, nothing to worry about. We will be all right. I will hold your hand the whole time. Trust me.” He moved farther out onto the swaying bridge.
“It’s the bridge I don’t trust, not you.” He ignored my muttered response and began slowly crossing the rickety death trap. Our arms pulled as far as they could apart, and I made myself stare at his back as I took my first step onto the creaky old bridge.
He had one hand on the rope, while the other gripped mine. I let go of his hand in favor of curling my fingers into his pants so he’d have both hands free to guide and support us across.
I was momentarily distracted at the sight of my fingers clutching at his pants. How did you keep your clothes when you changed? The question was gone as quickly as it had come, overruled by another wave of fear as I glimpsed the distance between us and the bottom of the ravine. I closed my eyes, wishing I hadn’t looked down. I kept them closed, preferring to put my trust entirely in Raif. We moved slowly, pausing only when the wind pushed us from side to side. I felt helpless tears leak out from my tightly closed eyes, my pulse thrumming quickly through my tense body.
I fell to my knees as soon as we were on solid ground again as my tightly wound muscles gave way to uncontrollable trembling. I felt him remove my pack from me and then heard his footsteps walking away. With the solid ground safely beneath my feet again, I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything else. I crouched there, numb and shaking, ignoring the tears still falling down my face. He came back and picked me up from the ground. I felt bad for him having to carry me, but I was mostly just relieved to put more distance between that bridge and us. I opened my eyes finally to see where he was taking me. He walked into a shallow cave in the mountain and placed me on a pallet of blankets. He curled protectively around me, blocking my view of the bridge just past the cave’s entrance.
“Not much for heights, are you?” His voice rumbled above my ear and I started laughing.
I laughed because he was right, because of the absurdity, and because if I didn’t laugh at everything that’d happened since I’d boarded that stupid plane, I was going to cry. Again. He gave me a puzzled look but let me be hysterical.
I laughed until tears leaked from my eyes, bringing heaving sobs with them. I couldn’t stop. The possible loss of my family, the loss of my naïveté, and the eventual loss of him was overwhelming. I didn’t like crying, didn’t like to feel the vulnerability, and that just made me cry harder. I cried and he held me until I finally, blessedly, passed out.
I woke hungry, sore, and embarrassed. He was still curled around me, his hand making a lazy trek up and down my back. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was asleep. I lay there for a few minutes admiring him, thankful that I’d discovered such an amazing person. I smiled at the memory of our ride through the woods and shifted so as to better see his features in the dim light of the cave. He cracked open an eye at my movement, rewarding me with a small smile of his own.
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” I croaked out, trying not to look into the teal eyes two inches from mine. I was mortified at having ugly-cried in front of him. “I’m not usually so emotional. Do we have any water left? My throat feels like sandpaper.”
He kissed my nose and rolled me onto my back, still holding tightly to me so he was now on top of me. He reached over to his pack and pulled out a canteen, quickly rolling back over so I was on top of him. I sat, straddling him, drinking the water. He lay back, watching me.
“Amada, you never need to apologize for your tears. They are an expression of your feelings. I knew this would be a trying day, and you were amazing. With everything that has happened, I would have been surprised if you had not shed tears. I am pleased that Poseidon sent such a strong and wonderful woman here for me. I just wish that you did not have to leave. Are you feeling better now?” I’d finished drinking and was back in my favorite spot—pressed against his chest.
“Yes, I’m a little hungry, though. How long was I asleep? Did you eat yet?”
“Only for a few hours, and no I have not eaten yet. I did not want to disturb you. You needed the rest, we both did. We will eat now, and then we will have to head out. I am afraid you will like today’s adventure even less than yesterday’s.” He grimaced as he stood to gather supplies. He had been going to my pack for the food this entire time, and had yet to open his own. It made me curious as to what he was carrying in the heavy looking bag.
“Don’t tell me. More bridges?” I shuddered at the thought. I helped him get things prepared for the stew he was beginning to make.
“We are directly below Cleito’s castle. The only way to get there from here is either teleportation, or climbing. I cannot teleport both of us such a long distance, as that is not my gift, so we will have to climb.” He didn’t look at me while he talked; subconsciously knowing that he wouldn’t appreciate the glare I was giving him.
“Oh. I’ve never climbed the side of a mountain before. I should also tell you that I have this thing about heights.” He turned, raising his brow at me. “I don’t exactly like them.” He smiled at my belated confession.
“Really, I had not noticed,” he replied with a chuckle. “I have all of the equipment and can either buoy you to me like a backpack, or teach you how to climb, so you can climb with me. Either way, you will be near me and I will be happy.” I bristled at the thought of him carrying me up the side of the mountain like an infant.
I stormed (limped; riding a leopard came at a price) out of the cave, and away from his laughter, before my pride got me into trouble. As I took in the mountain we’d have to climb, I rethought my earlier objection to being carried. It was forever, straight up. I couldn’t even see a handhold to begin with, let alone how we’d climb the entire cliff-face. I walked back in with a more subdued attitude.
“I don’t want to be carried, but I honestly don’t know if I can do that. I’ve never climbed a mountain, and as you are now aware, I’m terrified of heights. I don’t, however, want to be treated like a child. I’d like you to show me how, and if we have the luxury to take it at a speed that I can handle, I’ll do my best. You said we’d be close the whole time, right?” I looked straight into his teal eyes, trying to be brave as I blatantly admitted my weakness. If he knew what that had cost me, he never showed it.
“I will be able to feel your lush body every step of the way. You are my heart, and I would never let anything happen to you.” He smiled at me and I was glad I chose to learn and not be carried. This was a man who would cherish me, just as I was, even if I was afraid. However, I knew then that he’d respect courage more.
We ate in a comfortable silence, both contemplating the various aspects of the remaining journey. There are many things I’d done in the last day that I wouldn’t have done for anyone but my alma xemelga. Without fully understanding it myself, I now realized that I’d been searching for a love to transcend time my entire life. There had to be a way for us to stay together. It wasn’t fair that I’d find him, only to have to let him go.
I cleaned up while
he went out to assess the mountain. He’d be starting our first few handholds so I could get the gist of it before we were too far off the ground. I tried not to think about it, I was already nervous. My pack was ready and resting in the cave’s entrance. His open pack was already outside.
His pack was filled with rope, shoes, and gloves for both of us. I put my shoes on while he finished setting up the handholds. I pulled the rope and harnesses out of his pack and laid them out. I put my pack in his now empty one and waited for him to show me how to do this.
“We have enough light to make it to the castle by sunset, even if we go very slowly. Are you ready?” He looked excited. I wished I could share his enthusiasm, but I was just trying to keep our small meal in my churning stomach.
“Sure,” I said, silently praising myself for not sounding as scared as I felt. I kissed him, deeply. “I love you.”
“What was that for? Not that you ever have to have a reason to kiss me,” he said as he smiled, with his arms wrapped around my waist.
“Just in case.” I leaned into him, feeling his laughter rumbling deep in his chest.
“We will be fine, amada. I love you as well. Come.” He led me to where I had put the gear, and demonstrated how to put the harness on.
I stepped into the leg holes of my rope harness and he drew it slowly up my legs. His hands barely held the rope as he slid them up the backs of my thighs, caressing the way to my butt. The heated look in his eyes made me forget momentarily what we were supposed to be doing, my heart pounded for another reason entirely. While I appreciated the distraction, I placed my hands on his, holding him still.
“You’re incredibly distracting, but I really need to focus on what we’re doing. This is terrifying to me, and doing that is just delaying the inevitable,” I smiled.
He returned my smile, and obligingly began to explain that the shoes were helpful to grip the walls due to the orichalcum studs on the toes and bottom of the soles. He showed me how to release the handholds and jam them into the mountainside for maximum grip ability. He explained that the things I would know as called pitons were called esracador here. They were slightly different in structure than ours, though. They were created with orichalcum and embedded themselves into the crevices of the mountain, making themselves part of the mountain’s structure, thereby creating a stronger, more stable hold. They worked by pressing the pointy end into the mountain and turning the handle one way. You turned the handle the other way to release the esracador in order to place it again.
He placed the esracador and climbed a few, to show me how to maneuver properly. I was very impressed with his skill, and debated again about the perks of being on his back while he climbed. He was graceful and skilled, shimmying up and down the mountainside like a lizard.
He had me use a few of the esracador to climb up, and I found that it wasn’t that difficult. It took a surprising amount of concentration to place and remove them, and I didn’t realize that I’d gone so far up until he told me to wait. It was actually sort of fun. I hung like a monkey on the side of the mountain and waited while he scurried back down to secure his pack to his body. I felt a little guilty that he was carrying both packs, but the guilt was quickly put to rest as I saw him clambering back up the mountain, gathering esracador on his way up like he was pulling taffy out of the wall.
He climbed up the side of the mountain to meet me with the speed and grace of a mountain lion, causing my mouth to both water and dry up at the same time. The esracador were clipped to his harness clinking together excitedly as he climbed. Once he reached me where I was clinging to the mountainside, he gave me a quick kiss before securing us together with a rope about three feet long. I appreciated the caution. He handed me half of the esracador so we could climb side-by-side. My reach was smaller than his, but we adjusted into an easy rhythm. It was easier than I’d originally thought, and before I knew it, we found ourselves talking about our lives.
I told him all about Ashlyn and Katie, sharing with him the love I had for them. He loved hearing about Ash and asked me all sorts of questions about her life and my role in it. He was amazed that Katie and I were able to handle so much without the aid of a man. I was starting to understand the culture he lived in, and I tried not to be insulted. I told him about my job, which further fascinated him. He couldn’t fathom the idea that millions of tiny cells led to the construction of the body. We climbed in silence for a few minutes while he contemplated that.
“I was engaged once. His name was Keith and I thought he hung the moon.” Raif tensed slightly next to me and my lips curved in a slight grin—he was jealous. I continued as if I hadn’t noticed his reaction. “He left me before the wedding, I still have no idea why, exactly, but it broke something in me. I never thought I could love someone again; let alone think about committing my life to another person. But it’s different with you.”
As I reminisced about my relationship with Keith, I realized that it didn’t have any depth to it. My hurt and anger toward Keith was finally nothing more than history to me. He truly was nothing more than a passing season in my life. I’d found my soul mate, my alma xemelga, and I was finally complete.
“With you, even with as short a time as we’ve known each other, I feel more complete than I ever thought I could feel. I’m content for the first time in my life. I guess I’d never really known love. Either that or finally finding my soul mate trumps everything. Because this should terrify me. And it doesn’t. The only thing that scares me, that makes me question what we’re doing, is the fact that I know I have to leave you.” I was glad we had to concentrate on the wall. That way he couldn’t see the vulnerability in my face, or the tears that threatened to fall at the thought of not being able to feel his touch whenever I wanted. It hurt to the very core of my being.
“Amada, I…” He paused for a moment. “Ata o dus eu te amo.” His voice was soft on the wind, but it filled my heart to bursting. I had no idea what he’d said, but I was beginning to understand that he would say things in his language that he thought might be too intense for me to believe just yet.
“Tell me about you,” I demanded, changing the subject. “You’ve told me about your history and geography, but I know very little about you, and that’s really the only subject that matters to me.”
“I was born during a rich harvest. The only son to the Warrior Chief, the Iochera of my people, Mneseus, and his wife, Diana. Theirs was not a fairy tale love. They weren’t soul mates, but I believe they loved each other as much as they were able to. I was still fairly young when Nereus was born—barely having seen my first century.” I gasped. “Are you all right?”
“You’re saying you were a hundred years old when Nereus was born, and that was young?” The astonishment in my voice was coupled with the look of shock I couldn’t suppress. We paused in our climb, hanging against the cliff.
“I was 98 at the time of his birthing. I told you, we live for an extremely long time. By your standards, I would have only been in my early teens.” It’s one thing to know in a general way that someone is ancient, it’s a completely different matter to listen to him talk about it as if it was no big deal.
“So, by your standard I’m still a child?” I curled my lip in disgust as thoughts rushed through my head, both good and bad.
“No,” he replied with a grin. “If you were Atlantean, then yes, you would be a child, and wouldn’t look as you do. We would not be able to mate—you would not have even come close to that age of possibility. Certain, um, things have to occur before that can happen.” He actually blushed. I understood what he was trying to say; puberty had to happen in order to mate. That relieved most of my concerns. “We age at a much slower rate than you do. If I were a Surface Dweller, I wouldn’t even have seen half a century yet. We are different from you, but in all the ways that matter, we are the same.”
I nodded, not sure if I was entirely placated by his explanation, but not wanting to discuss it further and make myself more uncomfortable. I nodded,
encouraging him to continue with his history.
“Mneseus was not an easy father. He raised me to both take over our place in the hierarchy and to take his place as the Iochera of Atlantis, should something ever happen to him. He was the one to lead the raid for Atlas—the one that left our city vulnerable to attack. My mother flung herself into the sea rather than face whatever retribution the gods had in store for my father’s actions.”
“Oh my god, Raif,” I exclaimed in a horrified whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
He gave me a sad smile. “Not necessary. It was a very long time ago, and I wasn’t the only child to grow up before I was ready, or even to be left alone in this world. There were many who had it much worse than I.”
“But still,” I replied, “that had to be heartbreaking.”
“Most of the families were destroyed in one way or another, either by the battle that led to our sinking or by Poseidon’s rage after. If it weren’t for Cleito, I believe that Atlantis would have been destroyed altogether. The orphaned children found homes with other clans. We went from a land home to thousands, to maybe a few hundred of us left. Almost all were in Nereus’ palace when you were presented to him.”
I wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. It was horrifying to hear how an entire civilization was almost completely wiped out. There were only enough of them left to fill one—rather large—room. They were an endangered species, and my heart broke.
“I was lucky in a sense. I didn’t have to rely on the others for survival. I was at the age where I’d have naturally started looking to be the man of my own home and leader of my clan. I became the Iochera. It was not a title I truly ever expected to attain, but I performed to the best of my abilities. Those few that would have named me friend quickly realized that I would uphold the laws of Poseidon to the letter. They, along with a handful of women that failed to prove they could be my mate, dubbed me xeada.” At my confused expression, he clarified with a grin. “Man without heart, or heart of ice.”