I grip the hilt of my sword to withdraw it.
An eagle swoops down and snaps the snake in half with its beak. It picks up Kitta in its talons and flies out of the pit.
“Is she going to be okay?” I cry out, not knowing who will answer me.
Elos crouches low. “Climb on my back! Quick!”
Even though it’s difficult in this dress, I swing my leg over his body and grip the feathers tight to pull myself the rest of the way up. As soon as I’m nestled behind his head, I plunge my face into his feathers and grip tighter.
The higher he flies, the clearer the air becomes. I can breathe. Really breathe. Still, I cough and cry, trying to clear my mind of appalling memories.
“I know that was awful,” Elos says over his shoulder,” but I ask you, please—do not let your tears hit my skin. If any moisture gets on my skin, I will get sick.”
“I’m sorry.” I wipe away the tears that soak my face and some of the ones that have fallen.
“I will carry you beyond the Desert of Self and over the Mountain of Rejection where the City of Despair sits on the mountain tops. Beyond that lies the lamb’s mountain. I can get you as far as the foot of the lamb’s mountain. But you will have to stay still or I won’t make it over the first mountain.”
“I’ll stay still.” Anything to avoid a place with a name like Mountain of Rejection.
Closing my eyes, I bury my face in his feathers.
After an hour or more in the air, I lift my head, finally brave enough to look over the eagle’s blue-winged shoulder. A blanket of golden sand stretches east and west. To the south, the sand stops at the foot of a tall mountain range. Maybe it’s the angle of the sun, but some of those mountains look like they’re on fire.
But it can’t be the sun’s angle. It’s still midmorning. Beyond that mountain, further south still, there’s a taller mountain, one that glows with ethereal radiance.
“Is that tall mountain behind the first one the lamb’s mountain?” I ask Elos.
“Yes.” His voice sounds strained.
No matter how much I want to ask more questions, I don’t. He’ll need all his strength to fly over that first range of mountains.
A blast of warm air pushes Elos high in the air. He flies straight toward the sun. I grip the feathers tighter, hoping not to pluck any of them out. I bury my face again. He swerves to the left and then to the right. Oh my goodness, I’m going to be sick. Hold it together, Miya, hold it together.
I can hardly breathe in air this thin. My ears pop.
“Hang on tight!”
Even as Elos speaks, cold air envelops us and he swoops suddenly.
The cold air in my face is the only thing keeping me from getting sick. The whole landscape beneath us is a blur, but it’s a far closer blur than it was a few moments ago. There’s running water, I can tell that much, and some grass and trees, but a lot of black and gray as if it burned recently.
There’s red and orange up higher on the mountain. Flames—there’s no doubt of that now.
The eagle lets forth a sudden scream. I grit my teeth, grip the feathers again, hardly daring to believe the unearthly sound escaping my own lips.
A deafening roar drowns out Elos’s scream and my cry.
Something drags at Elos’s talon.
We’re being pulled out of the sky!
The contents of my stomach spray over Elos’s shoulder. Ugh! Not now!
Elos tugs at whatever pulls his feet. He stops screaming and shouts over his shoulder to me. I try to gather his words in that part of my mind not consumed by fear.
It’s so hot.
His shoulder, not the one I got sick on, slams into a tree.
“Go!” he yells as I roll onto the ground. He screams again.
When my body stops rolling down the mountainside, I turn toward Elos. Flames consume the gorgeous blue eagle. Behind him, a huge man, as tall as a tree and made of stone and flames, roars.
Is your love declared in the grave,
your faithfulness in Destruction?
~ Psalm 88:11
Chapter 22
Galahad
Elos’s words untangle in my memory. “Run! Run up the mountain! Get to the other side!”
I see where the river runs down the side of the mountain. That’s my route. Fire giants jump into the sparse forest at the base of the mountain, but avoid the river.
I scramble over stones and fallen trees, heading toward anything that looks like shelter. My body’s so tired. I don’t know how I can keep going. And my friend, the eagle—how could they? What are they?
My chest might cave in any second. There’s so much smoke in the air. How did I ever willingly take smoke into my lungs for so long? I’d run faster now if I never did.
Trees are uprooted and thrown through the air. I duck out of the way of these projectiles. Climbing as fast as I can, I dare not look down or look around. Those giants continue to roar, but not as close.
That pile of rocks not quite a quarter of a mile up might be a safe place to catch my breath. I dash up the mountainside carefully. The splashing waterfall has slicked the ground.
I duck into a space between two large stones. A cave! It’s cramped in here. I can hardly kneel, let alone stand. But I’m hidden.
The giants’ roars get louder as I gasp, catching my breath. I pull my knees to my chest.
The rocks above me rattle. Outside the tiny cave entrance are flaming feet.
The roars stop and are replaced with grunts and growls that shake the rocks.
It’s so hot. The stones burn my skin. I press my body to the cool, damp floor. My lungs reject the hot air. Nausea rolls through me again.
The giants roar louder than before. I hold my hands over my ears. Exhaustion overwhelms me.
The roaring fades. My eyes close.
I stand in front of the house my mom bought, my jaw hanging open in disbelief. That beautiful house that we spent years fixing up. That house with so many memories—both torturous and elating. There’s a SOLD sign out front. Along one side I see where the new owners are changing the color from colonial blue to drab beige.
Where’s Mom?
All the flowers she planted now belong to people who have terrible taste in house colors.
I run up the hill and down the street to the nearest pay phone.
I check the payphone slot for a discarded dime. Dang it—I’ll have to call collect. But who?
Ryan. He’ll know where she is.
I pick up the phone and dial the operator.
When she connects me, a man with a voice I don’t recognize answers. Thankfully, he accepts the call.
“Miya?” he says as if he’s relieved to hear my voice.
“Yes?” Do I know him?
“Your brothers are on tour.”
Oh, yeah. How could I have forgotten?
“Your mom left a phone number for you, but she won’t get there for several days.”
“Where did she go?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“I don’t even know who you are!”
“This is Percy. Look, she’s on her way to Florida. She said she’d be there in a few days.”
He’s lying. He’s got to be. There’s no way any of this is the truth. I don’t even know a Percy.
But he knows me. And he knows where Mom is.
How could she leave me like that?
Numb, I drop the phone, leaning against the payphone pole.
I squeeze my eyes shut and hug my knees close. The heat of the asphalt seeps through the dress. But my body shakes and shivers as if it’s the middle of winter.
I open my eyes to see the back alley of a night club I’ve never seen before. And I’ve seen lots of night clubs.
A young man who looks quite a bit like Crevan unloads a bass amp from a van and hauls it into the propped open door of the club. After he goes in, Robby comes out.
Robby. Which means Ryan and Nate are here.
I jump to my feet an
d run to the van. “Where are Ryan and Nate?”
Robby looks at me but doesn’t say a word. He reaches into the van and takes three guitars from Ryan’s hands. Ryan crouches in the back of the van and stacks equipment toward the front.
“What are you doing here?” Ryan asks. I thought he’d be happier to see me after the time that I’ve been in that other world.
Or maybe I’ve been here all this time and everyone’s just seen my shell, assumed I’m okay. “I’m looking for Mom.”
“She’s gone to Florida. I don’t think she’ll ever set foot in New England again.”
I don’t blame her. I wasn’t too disappointed to get out either.
“Look, I’m really busy,” Ryan says. “Percy, our new manager, has Mom’s phone number for you.”
“I know.”
“If you know, why’d you come bothering me for it?”
“I don’t know.” I step away from the van.
“I’ll see you again when I’m done with tour, just—just don’t bother me right now.”
I nod, unable to respond. I feel like a grapefruit that has had all its sections scooped out and all that remains are the bitter, flimsy parts.
I don’t even want to find Nate. Who knows what he’ll say? And I’m too hollow to speculate.
Wandering over to a curb, I watch my feet. I’m wearing hightops and jeans. Maybe this is just a dream.
Please just be a dream! Because my soul is scraped raw.
I wake up crying, curled on the mud floor of the tiny cave. There’s a strange quiet all around me. The fire giants must have moved on. It’s not so hot now and I can breathe. I crawl out, never wanting to return. At least I’m wearing the clothes I received at Jewel’s cottage. I’m not sure how I changed, but I’m thankful for it. Leather trousers are so much easier than a dress to move around in.
Thirst and fear push me toward the river. A few trees around me burn, but I don’t see the fire giants anywhere.
I climb down to where the fire isn’t and find a pool that a waterfall pours into. My tongue is so parched. Parched. Heat and running and tears have left me bone dry. My foot lands on a slick leaf and I have to catch myself on a rock. Slow it down, Miya. I’m so thirsty. But one glance down the mountainside makes my knees feel funny. How far I would have fallen!
I lay flat on the ground and inch myself toward the pool.
At the edge, I scoop water into my mouth, sip after satisfying sip. After a few sips, I plunge my whole head into the water—the first refreshing sensation in so long.
I pull my dripping face and hair back to the bank and roll onto my back.
Memories crash into me. The dragon, Selah—what happened to her? Kitta injured, Elos engulfed in flames right in front of me. Why? Why them? Why was I spared? Why? I wouldn’t have seen Mom just get up and move away. I wouldn’t ever have to hear Ryan tell me to stop bothering him.
I curl into a heap and shed pent up tears. I want to be sick. None of these tears will bring right to so many wrongs. I wish—I wish I could stop.
Choking on my tears, I heave.
I use the water to wash my face and take another sip.
The water tastes funny this time, like it’s mixed with soot and ash.
I glance around me. The fire climbs down the mountain.
I jump to my feet. The woods to the west are free of flames, but the east, where I am, a full half mile is consumed. Except along the falls. I guess because the ground is so damp. Then that’s my path. But carefully. I’m hungry and shaky and sad—never a good combination when climbing a mountain.
A few raisins are left in my pack. I’m so hungry even raisins sound good to me right now. I force myself to stop at one handful. Who knows when I’ll run across food again?
I use both hands and feet to climb the slick corridor between burning forest and crashing waterfall. Small goals—that will make this easier. There’s a ridge about an eighth of a mile up. Maybe less. I’ll take a rest as soon as I get to that ridge.
Once I reach the ridge, the fire to the east is minor, perhaps a few trees and much further in that direction. I’ll find an easier route after my rest. But where will I go? I could go back to the foot of the mountain and wait for the fires at the summit to die down.
Elos said to run over the mountain. It’s probably easier to fly over than run.
I need another drink. The pool here is wider than the one below. I crawl carefully over to the edge. I hope it’s not mixed with ash and soot. I lean over to take a sip but stop with my hand hovering over the water.
I stare at the waterfall as a large barrel cascades over the falls and crashes into the pool. A boy bursts from the wreckage. He thrashes about in the water.
If I don’t go in there, he’ll drown. If I do, we may both tumble over the falls.
His head bobs to the surface. He can’t be older than ten.
The water doesn’t look so crazy in the middle of the pool. I set my pack on the bank and wade out into the cool waters, pressing my body against the current toward the boy.
The waters reach up to my chest. The current pulls stronger than before.
Stretching out my hand, I feel the boy’s thrashing arms. In his desperation, he hits me several times before I can grab hold.
He climbs up my arm and wraps his arms around my neck. Walking gingerly over slippery stones, I pull the boy to shore, holding his body close to mine.
He coughs and sputters and cries. When I set him onto the ground, his legs crumple beneath him and he screams. Then I see why. One of his legs is broken.
And he’s an elf, not a human boy. His pointed ears stretch to the top of his head. I guess I was so anxious to help him I didn’t notice those ears.
I kneel by his side, wishing someone was there to tell me what to do. Mom always knew what to do. But Mom’s not here. I don’t even know how to find her.
I push the hair from the elf-boy’s face. He’s a very handsome elf-child, but burned in places. And he’s crying. A lot.
“How can I help you?” I ask.
“Make my legs straight,” he moans in a lilting accent.
I lift his foot to move the leg and he screams in pain. I stop.
“Keep going, please! I’ll try not to cry.”
I block out his screams as I finish moving his leg straight. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever had to do. The elf-boy faints. His body is unnaturally warm, even after that cool water in the falls.
I cup water in my hand and drip it over him. Kind of like what Mom did for me when I was sick.
The elf-boy’s clothes are ragged, but more like normal street clothes than anything else I’ve seen in this world. Blue jeans. Tee-shirt. His slender bare feet look like they’ve seen the inside of shoes more often than not.
His hands aren’t quite so warm.
His eyes flicker open and his breath quickens. “Thank you. I didn’t think the barrel would break like that.”
“I’m glad I was here,” I say.
“I didn’t expect to find anyone here, especially with the fire giants raging on the mountain.” His accent takes a moment to get used to, but it’s beautiful.
“What’s your name?”
“Galahad. What’s yours?”
“Miya.”
“Miya, we need your help. Now that I’m down here and the air is clearer, I can think clearer. I always think clearer when the giants aren’t around.”
“Are they on the top of the mountain all the time?”
He shakes his head. “They came once before, when I was tiny. They destroyed almost everything, then left. We thought they’d never come back again, and lived like they wouldn’t. Then they came back.”
“When did they come?”
“Last night.”
“How long did they stay last time?”
“I don’t know. One tried to grab me. That’s how my arm got burned. I jumped into a barrel to escape them over the falls. Please help. You’re the only one I can hope to find on the mountain
side who will help my people.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Can you help rescue my family? My friends? My city? Those fire giants are destroying everything. Once they destroy it all, they will leave, but so many will die. We attempted hope, but they brought despair.”
“Who am I? How can I help?”
He points to my belt. “You wear that belt, and you have that sword.” He winces in pain and tears pour out of his eyes.
Seeing him cry, I start to cry.
“You even have the shoes,” he says amidst his tears.
I look down at my dripping boots. I’ll need to change my socks soon.
“You’ll need to find the rest of the armor,” he says. “Somewhere nearby there’s a small cave.”
I hope he doesn’t mean the cave I don’t want to see again.
“In a secret chamber…” he stops to catch his breath, “…you’ll find…a breastplate.” His feverish eyes stare into mine. “You know the cave?”
I nod demurely, ashamed of my cowardice.
“Is it near?”
“It’s close.”
“Please, you must hurry. My family, my people can’t wait.”
“Okay.” Even if it’s hard, there’s no way I can refuse the elf-boy.
I stand in front of the cave. I really don’t want to go in there. That sleep, although it was brief, felt induced. It could be anything in this world. I used to love sleep—I could sleep for a full day if I was sad enough. But these dreams here, they mock me. And I’m afraid I’ll leave Raphinea and return to the normal world and find life looks exactly like the dreams I’ve had here.
No sleep for me. No thank you. But I need to find this secret chamber. Maybe if I hold my breath.
I take in a deep gulp of the still smoky air and duck into the cave. I can’t see anything that would indicate a secret chamber. But I guess that’s why they call it secret.
I run my hand along the stone for clues. My chest hurts from the pent up breath. I crawl out again, gasping for air. I gulp another breath and duck back into the cave.
I’m taking too long. Galahad needs me. I don’t know what I can do, but if I don’t get back to his side, he’s not going to make it. I can’t have someone else here die, not when it’s in my hands to help.
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