Dreamscape: Saving Alex

by Kirstin Pulioff

  The white crept up from all angles until I couldn’t see anything. Not the shadows, not the snow, not Arrow. My stomach knotted, and I dropped to my knees, watching my hands disappear under the layer of snow. I looked around, not knowing which way was up.

  “Arrow?” I whispered, afraid to awaken the creatures. Rattles surrounded me, quicker and closer the longer I waited. Something cupped my left shoulder, and a stab of ice burned down my arm.

  “Arrow?” My voice creaked as I stumbled to my feet and ran. Another hand grabbed me.

  Disoriented, I stumbled forward, not knowing which direction I was going or even if I was staying on the path. I wavered back and forth, avoiding each disembodied rattle. I never knew white could be so dark. Lurching over hidden branches and rocks, I fell to the ground and silently screamed.

  The chill radiated from my shoulder down to my fingertips and over to my face until my chattering teeth bit my tongue. Had that brief contact been enough to turn me into one of them?

  Tears froze on my cheeks as I sat on the ground, arms wrapped around my knees, rocking back and forth, dreading the transformation. New faces popped in and out of the mist, ghoulish visions, malnourished and maimed. What would Arrow or the rebellion do if their hero was cursed in the shadows?

  I didn’t want to believe I had failed, but as the cold spread, my doubts grew. Suddenly, another hand—a warm hand—grabbed my shoulder. Warmth. I saw the concern in Arrow’s eyes.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said, grabbing his hand to stand up, willing the tears to stop, though the redness around my eyes was proof enough.

  “You’re cold,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows. “Whatever you do, don’t let go. We have to get you in front of a fire.” His hand grabbed mine as he pulled me forward into the white shadows. “Put these in your ears.”

  “A roll?” I watched as he broke the roll apart and used the soft insides to create small balls, pressing them into his ears.

  I followed his example and was amazed at how much it helped. The wind’s deep moans were dulled, as were the shadow creature’s rattles. I wished he had a way to fix the ice building in my bones. We walked the rest of the way in silence, until the shadows lightened and I fell to the ground, coughing up blood.

  Chapter Thirty

  Arrow helped me up, his gaze lingering on the splattered blood behind me.

  “I think we can rest here. We’re not quite out of the shadows yet, but we should be far enough out of the main canyon to rest. What happened?” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and leaned in to hear my trembling voice.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, trying hard to keep the tears from falling. The concern in his eyes didn’t help. “One minute, I was right behind you, and the next, you were gone.”

  “Shhh… it’s going to be all right. I’m here now.” He tightened his arms around me and rocked gently back and forth. “You’re so cold and pale. Did you see them?”

  I nodded, wishing the mention of them didn’t invite them back into my mind. Horror like that was hard to forget.

  He stopped rocking and looked at me. “Did they touch you?”

  The tears I’d held back flowed, freed from the control I’d tried to exercise over them. “One did,” I whispered, biting my lip.

  Arrow let go of me and ran to where he had secured the horses, grabbing something from the bag before rushing back to my side.

  “Do you think I’ve been cursed?” I asked, trembling, putting my biggest fear into words.

  “I’m not sure,” he said calmly, but his hands shook as they worked to untangle the package of vines. “If you were cursed, I think there’d be more blood, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “Arrow, I’m scared,” I said, covering the vines with a hand as he tightened them.

  He gave me a sad smile. “I know. Try not to think about it. We should be safe now. Let’s just let the vines do their thing and make sure you’re not too hurt before we continue.” He handed me another roll. “You wanted to take the shortcut,” he said.

  “Probably the last I’ll ever take again,” I mumbled. I held up the roll. “Did you pack a whole bag of these?”

  “You’re joking—that’s a good sign,” he said. “And as a matter of fact, yes, I did. Right after I change those vines, I’m going to find some wood.”

  “No!” I yelled. I covered my mouth.

  Our eyes darted around us, watching the burgeoning fog, waiting for a rattle, but nothing came. He dropped to my side and crossed the vines over my shoulder.

  “You can’t leave me,” I whispered, reaching out with frozen fingertips.

  “You need a fire,” he said. “Just relax. I won’t go far, but there’s no wood on the trail. Try to relax, and warm yourself up in my cloak.”

  “But you’ll need it.”

  “Right now you need it more. We’ve made it this far, and we’ll make it the rest of the way when you’re feeling up to it.”

  “How will you find me?” I asked, looking at the white mist rising around us.

  “Hey. Don’t worry,” he said, his voice softening as he pulled me close. “I’ll always find you.”

  I watched him disappear into the mist, and the spot where I caught my last glimpse of him became my sole focus. My chest burned as I held my breath for his return. Silence. With my tongue, I traced the gouges I’d made in my cheek. I needed a new nervous habit. My nails weren’t long enough to bite, so I settled for ripping the bread to shreds before eating it. I took small bites, noticing the metallic taste slowly disappear, but the tenderness inside my mouth remained.

  What would happen if he didn’t come back? The thought of being cursed in the shadows took away my breath. I couldn’t think that way. Arrow would be back; he had to be back. He promised.

  When his head broke back through the fog’s veil, I almost screamed, tasting the blood fill my mouth again. His face had paled, and his lips were colorless. I jumped up and ran to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Did they get you? You’re so cold.”

  “N-not cursed. Jus-st c-c-old,” he stuttered. A few of the logs fell out of his arms, and he let the rest go as he wrapped his hands around my waist. I tucked my face into the crook of his neck and breathed a sigh of relief. I felt the chill from his hands through my shirt.

  “Let’s get that fire going,” I said, picking up the wood and creating a cabin of logs near where I had sat.

  We both needed the fire. Once I finished stacking the wood, he started the fire by slamming two luminance rocks together. A small flame blossomed from the spark, eating its way along the larger logs. The flames entwined and danced, captivating me. Through the fire, I caught Arrow staring.

  He moved to my side. My face flushed as he looked at me. I hoped he didn’t notice. I could blame that on the heat of the fire. But I had no way to explain the way I trembled.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to. Arrow took my hands in his, warming them with his breath.

  Prickles of pleasure shot down my leg where the outsides of our thighs met. I settled into the warmth of his arms and listened to the calming beat of his heart next to mine. We watched the fire until no more embers popped and the last coal turned dark.

  I looked up at him and tucked my lips together. He matched my gaze. Neither one of us wanted to be the one to speak up.

  “It’s time,” I said, clasping my hand in his and pulling him up. “I want to get out of these shadows for good.”

  “You do know where we’re going, right?”

  I shot him a look. Of course I did. “Yes but at least there I can’t be cursed to live in shadows.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “If we fail, we’ll only die.”

  I grabbed the reins to my horse and climbed on.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  Once the fog lifted, I realized that the mountain trail was lengthier than I’d thought. Shadow Alley was only the midpoint in a serrated mountain range. Snow-covered cliffs and valleys dominated the h
orizon. Our journey wasn’t over yet.

  “Don’t stop here,” Arrow said, passing me. “We still have a long way to go, and it’ll be safer once we crest these next few ridges. Let’s put this canyon far behind us.” He kicked his horse.

  I followed suit, content to ride behind him.

  The next several days merged together, ridges and mountains blending into one another. Despite my reluctance for time to pass, I threw myself into each moment, recognizing it for what it was. A gift. We rode in quiet contemplation of our surroundings, watching the terrain change as Arrow had predicted.

  The steep cliffs softened into wider paths and easier turns. Clumps of heavy snow fell from the trees, the sun’s warmth melting the fragile flakes. The magic I felt in the mountains wore off as we began our descent.

  After a week of conquering the treacherous terrain and my own feelings, I realized how much I had lost by hiding behind fear. It stole something irreplaceable: time. I had wasted too much of it, wallowing in my own insecurities, and if I had only shed that crutch earlier, Arrow and I would’ve had more time together. Shielding myself from an imaginary pain hadn’t made me stronger.

  What I would’ve given to hit restart, to have known this from the beginning…but I couldn’t. All I could do was cherish every moment left in our adventure.

  “So what can you tell me about these woods? I know you haven’t been here, but are there ghost stories or—” I stopped and pressed my shoulder blades together as clumps of snow fell down my back.

  I looked up at the pristine trees and spun to see Arrow, eyes wide and hands raised in exaggerated fashion. I jumped off the horse and knelt to make a snowball from the pile gathered by the base of the nearest tree.

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “Or you’ll what?” I asked, taunting him by tossing the snow between my hands.

  “Or this,” he said, sweeping in and throwing me over his shoulder. The snowball fell, but I slapped his back with my frozen hands until he dropped me.

  “Ouch!” I protested, but I couldn’t keep from giggling as he rolled to my side and brushed flakes of snow off my cloak.

  “Ah, you’re tougher than that,” he said.

  “Trickier too,” I said, pummeling him with handfuls of snow and skittering out of reach.

  Arrow chuckled and fell back onto his knees. “I give up—I’m at your mercy.”

  I peeked from behind a tree and squinted. It was almost too easy a shot, but I took it anyways.

  He fell back as the last snowball hit him square in the chest. “You win, Goldy, you win.”

  “That’s all I wanted to hear you say,” I said, tromping back to his side.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh again,” he said.

  “It felt good.” I leaned my head on his shoulder. He knew exactly what I needed.

  Arrow cocked his head to the side and covered his lips with a finger for silence. “Do you hear that?”

  “What? Is it your heart shattering from losing?”

  “No,” he said, smiling. “I think our luck has turned.” He jumped up and crept to the nearest tree, peering up through its branches.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, listening for sudden movement or an indication of what had alerted him, but I heard nothing.

  “I think it’s time for something new for dinner.” He unhooked the pack on his right side and pulled out a quiver of arrows and a bow.

  “Don’t joke with me about that,” I said, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.

  “I wouldn’t dare. Look at these tracks,” he said, pointing to triangular puncture holes in the snow. “Snowbirds, I believe.”

  “Snowbirds? I haven’t seen any—what do they look like?” I asked, picturing the species I had seen here.

  “Well, they’re hard to see,” he said. “Their white feathers blend into the snow almost perfectly, and they’re stealthy, making little sound as they bound through the brush and trees. But their meat…it’s worth the effort of catching them. They’re a delicacy, and will be the perfect way to end our journey.”

  My words caught in my throat. I hadn’t realized our time together had dwindled so quickly, or that we were so close to Berkos’ castle. It didn’t feel like nearly enough time. My stomach growled. The idea of fresh, warm meat moistened my mouth and sent tingles along my tongue.

  “I’ll take that as agreement.” He smiled and tied our horses to the nearest tree. “If you want to hunt in the trees, I can search among the brush.

  The thought of climbing exhilarated me, and I untethered a bow and quiver of arrows from the side of my horse. I balanced atop the saddle and reached for the nearest branch, pulling a pile of snow down on top of me.

  “You look just like a snowbird,” Arrow said, jumping down from his horse and tethering it to the nearest tree.

  “Let’s hope that helps. How will I find one?” I asked, shaking the snow off my arms and climbing onto the first branch.

  “Hmmm…I’m not sure exactly. Look in the clumps of snow. They use them for camouflage.”

  I looked up and saw snow falling from the branches above me. Squinting, I saw something shimmer and jump forward, disappearing into the higher branches.

  “I got this one,” I said, balancing on the saddle again and climbing onto the closest tree limb. Scampering up the tree, I chased the bird through the maze of variegated branches. The nimble bird jumped along at high speeds, knocking bumps of snow down behind it, then stopped at the edge. His head, crowned in a thick bush of white and pearlescent feathers, bobbed from side to side in deliberation.

  I pulled an arrow out, centered my aim, and released. The air whooshed, but I missed. The bird didn’t waste any more time and jumped forward to the next tree, knocking down more pristine tufts of snow.

  I kept my sight trained on the bobbing creature, lest it disappear within the trees. The slight branches would not hold my weight, so I climbed higher to a sturdier limb. I smiled as the flakes glittered, suspended, before succumbing to gravity. They settled slowly, dropping by my horse, no more than a small dot below me. A wave of disorientation hit me as I looked between the horse and the bird. I couldn’t go much further without risking my safety.

  The snowbird perched at the edge of the branch, mocking me with its still pose. Its head fluttered as I drew a new arrow. I inhaled, pulling back and aiming for its chest, and released the bowstring.

  The arrow wobbled, spearing through tufts of snow and landing with a solid thud. I jumped with excitement. Snow inundated me, slipping between my cloak and tunic. I shook off the chill and bounded down to retrieve my spoils.

  Surprise and disappointment hit me when the bird fluttered off the edge, dropping a lump of snow with it. What had I hit? And what sparkled back at me? I stared at the edge of the branch, waiting for a flutter of opalescent feathers, but nothing moved. Inching closer, I clutched the branches above me, careful as they bowed with my weight. A brief reminder of how high I had climbed flashed in my mind. I weighed the risk of falling against the draw of whatever glistened at the edge of the branch and cautiously stepped forward.

  Could it be, here, in the middle of the forest? I reached forward and brushed off a small pile of snow from atop an engraved box. Carvings marked all its sides, equally as impressive as the others I had already found. Golden paint twisted around silver stems, and etchings of circles and starbursts covered the front where the golden latch glittered. My fingers rested on the small handle as I pondered what was inside. And then I let it go—it had a destination beyond my needs.

  A rattle of coins sounded as I placed it back on the edge of the branch and carefully added a layer of snow on top. A smile grew as I looked back and saw it camouflaged. No one but the person it was intended for would know it was here. My fingers strayed, taking time to trace their way back to the branch, and as my gaze lifted, I noticed a change in the forest along the horizon.

  Arrow was right. We had reached the foothills. The leveling out of the trees and the way the w
hite faded back to green made it impossible to ignore. And even though Arrow had already warned me, the transformation of the landscape made it real. Seeing the end of our journey saddened me.

  I looked back down at the base of the tree and saw Arrow swinging a pair of birds by their talons.

  Securing the bow and arrow, I climbed down the trunk, straddling the branches as I went.

  “Looks like you got some. Good job. No luck for me this time,” I said, putting my gear back on my horse.

  “That’s not a problem. I had enough for the both of us,” he said with a smile that stretched from one side of his face to the other.

  I reached to hold his hand, but changed my mind at the last moment and stretched forward for a full embrace, knocking him to the ground. Warmth filled the space between our bodies.

  I liked the thought of what he’d said: together only one of us had to be lucky for us to succeed. But I also had an inkling that together, we’d have more than enough of everything. As his arm encircled me, I realized that “together” came with a lot of perks.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The slow pops of the fire woke me. Glowing embers flew around Arrow’s face as he poked the half-burned logs with a long stick.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I asked, pulling my cloak up under my chin.

  He gave me a sad smile and poked at the fire again.

  “Arrow, what is it?” I asked, propping myself up onto my elbows.

  “I was just thinking about how peaceful you look when you sleep. I was trying to memorize your face.”

  “Oh,” I said, lying back down. “I thought it was something serious.”

  “It is serious. We’ll be there either tonight or tomorrow, and I don’t want to forget what you look like.”

  I sighed. This was not how I’d intended to wake up. But I recognized the worry rising within him. I felt it too. Ever since we passed through Shadow Alley, I’d known I only had one last challenge to face.

  I sat up and wrapped the cloak around me before resting my arms over my knees. “If it makes you feel better, I feel the same way.”