Ash Eater

by Emerson, Joanna

  And he loosens his hold on my shoulder.

  I knew this would happen if I started telling the truth about Mom.

  I duck away from him. I’d rather face the ghouls than more rejection.

  “Why are you doing that?” he asks.

  “Because I could tell you’d rather not be near me now that you know.”

  “That’s not true, Miya.”

  “Besides, I’m braver now.”

  “I’m glad, but don’t let that be your excuse for pulling away from me.”

  I did it—how can I have done that?—I hurt him in the place of his biggest fear. “I’m sorry, Galen.”

  “I forgive, you, Miya, but please don’t do that again.”

  I curl into his side and we continue walking. For a long time, neither of us say a thing.

  “Tell me some stories,” I say. “Fun things. That’ll make this less scary.”

  “What would you like me to tell you?”

  “I don’t know. What did you and your brothers and sisters do for fun?”

  “Well, everyone would avoid the river because its current would always pull elves over the falls, but Galahad, Gloria, Gwen and me would try to jump from rock to rock to cross it. That was further up the mountain, in the rapids.”

  “I assume none of you fell in.”

  “I did most of the jumping, and I got my feet wet a few times, but I never took the plunge.”

  “I guess ‘cause you’re good like that.”

  “Are you mocking me?”

  “I’d never!” I giggle. “My brothers and I used to do the same when we were younger. You know, before…before what happened with my brother.”

  “How old were you when it happened?”

  “Eleven. I had just turned, and everything was crazy in my family.”

  “Did you tell your mom?”

  “Yeah, but only years later. I had forgotten for a long time. Just blocked it out, you know?”

  “That’s what I did with Silas for a while. It just hurt too much. And the mind does funny things with pain.”

  “It does.” It certainly did in my circumstance.

  “But it hurts less when I look at it honestly.”

  “It doesn’t for me.” I wish I didn’t say that. I wish I didn’t believe it. “I know I need to forgive, but it’s so hard.”

  “It is hard, like eating a mountain. But so important.”

  I gaze up at him, wondering how much he can read my mind. Or whether he just knows this from experience. “I’m sorry for what happened to you.”

  “Don’t be,” he says. “It made me who I am today.”

  Either my eyes are playing tricks on me, or there’s some good, real sunlight ahead.

  “Not too far now,” he says.

  As we approach the low, narrow mouth of the tunnel, I can see through the trees, beyond the valley, the slopes of the lamb’s mountain. There is something so wild and glorious about that mountain. It arrests me and I stand gaping. Late afternoon light tinges orange and pink the wispy clouds that hang over the canopy of trees.

  There are few birds on this mountain, but several hundred soar silently like majestic sentinels through the skies above that far slope.

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Galen whispers.

  I nod, unable to speak for the wonder coursing through me.

  “I should find us a spot to spend the night.”

  “Have you ever been there?” I ask, still staring ahead, ignoring what he’s doing.

  “I haven’t.”

  “Why not? I mean, you braved the tunnels.”

  “It’s a different kind of courage, I think. I’ve been as far as the river that runs through the valley between the mountains. I was more afraid of offending the lamb than of anything in this tunnel.” He takes hold of my hand. “Come, I’ve found somewhere that looks like a safe place to spend the night.”

  His touch sends warm tingles up my arm.

  The place he’s chosen is a nook that’s hidden from the mouth of the tunnel. The floor is clear and the whole nook looks almost cozy compared to the rest of this tunnel. All the eerie noises are now distant.

  I set my shield and the longer of the two swords against the stone wall and brace my arms against both walls as I slide down to sit on the floor. My legs wobble from pent up fear and exhaustion.

  “You rest,” Galen says. “Like I said, I’ll keep the first watch.”

  “Thank you.” As I recline on my side, he sits at the entrance of this nook with his back inches away from my chest, and my pounding heart.

  Why can’t I fall asleep? I’m so tired.

  His smallest finger brushes my index finger as our hands splay upon the bare rock. This galloping heart of mine chases sleep away.

  I want him to hold my hand.

  Did mine just inch toward his? Or did he just enfold mine?

  Whichever it was, I’m glad for it. The pounding of my heart in my ears drowns out all other sounds.

  He caresses the top of my hand with his thumb.

  I slide up to his side.

  “You should get some sleep,” he whispers against my cheek.

  “I know,” I whisper back, allowing my lips to brush against his jaw as I say it. I slide back down and lie on my side again.

  The rapid patter of my heart calms as sleep enfolds me. I dream about him and the feel of his skin pressed against my lips.

  I awake in the dark with the sweet savor of his lips gracing mine.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, drawing away. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “I was thinking about you in my sleep.”

  The sounds in the tunnel are creepy, but far enough away that his closeness comforts me. And I long for that comfort. I’ll drink it up until satisfied, if I’m allowed.

  Even with this weariness dragging at me, I yearn to kiss him more. And more. And I do. We lie panting in each other’s arms, breathing each other’s breath. Comfort embraces me.

  But it only lasts so long. I need more. And more.

  Until too much is not enough.

  Our breastplates clang as we discard them together and roll in a tight embrace, kissing and whispering. I’m panting with a hunger that his lips satisfy.

  I could stay here forever. Who cares about food or water or ghouls or haunting noises? I’m so happy in this moment, in his embrace, feeling Galen’s desire for me mingle with my desire for him.

  “I could stay here forever,” I whisper against his parted lips.

  “Shh.” His whisper bubbles forth like a breathless, lighthearted laugh. “This is an awful place to want to stay. But I could kiss you forever.”

  “Please.” My whole body begs for him. Yearns for him.

  “I could take you back to the cathedral,” he says as he kisses along my jawline. “You could live with me. My family seems to love you.”

  Not even a half-second of pondering this and pangs of homesickness overwhelm me. I want to be with my family no matter what—no matter what.

  I also want to be with Galen.

  And the tug in my heart to see the lamb again overshadows all of that. I want to have it all. Why can’t I have it all?

  We sit on the stone floor facing each other.

  Galen caresses my fingers. “What do you want to do?”

  If I say go, he’ll feel used by me. If I say stay, I’ll forget what my heart has been starving for for as long as I can remember: reconciliation with Ryan, with my whole family.

  I reach for my breastplate as a pained moan escapes my lips.

  “What is it, Miya?”

  “I can’t stay, and I can’t go. I feel suspended over life as if I’ll never be able to have what I want. Like there’s a feast below me, but I’m starving in a cage that dangles from the ceiling.”

  “What do you want?” He kisses my fingers.

  Another pained moan escapes my lips as tears fall from my eyes. “I want everything. I want to be near my family and have them love me. I want to
be near you and your family. I want to be with the lamb and feel whole again. Why does choosing have to hurt so freaking much.”

  He kisses my forehead and cheek. “I don’t want you to hurt, Miya.”

  “That’s the thing—I hurt so much. It hurts so badly all the time, it’d probably be better if I stayed away from everyone. I hurt so badly I’ll probably hurt everyone.”

  “Shh,” he whispers. He cups my face in his hands and kisses my mouth again. “I’ll take you to the lamb’s mountain, just as we first set out to do.” His voice is thick with disappointment.

  My heart aches as if it’s breaking right along with his. I don’t know if I can even stand. All I want to do is kiss him again. With slow, weary fingers, I clasp my breastplate in place.

  A low, guttural grunt grinds the air outside our little nook. Then a stomp, and another grunt. A dark shadow closes out all light. I can’t even see Galen’s silhouette anymore. A sickening, warm air blasts into the nook where we stay.

  “How is that even possible?” Galen breathes, fear evident in every syllable.

  “What is it?” I whimper, feeling around for my shield. I want to be anywhere—anywhere—but here.

  “A troll.”

  I want to hide behind Galen. I want to jump in front of him and protect him. I can’t make my feet move.

  A hulking mass reaches in. Its hand? Galen screams. The scream rushes out of the nook into the wider cave.

  …you remain the same,

  and your years will never end.

  ~ Psalm 102:27

  Chapter 28

  Immersion

  Light returns. Dim. But I see Galen. He dangles in the air in this gargantuan creature’s hand.

  I rush forward, screaming, a sword in each fist. I swipe like scissors at its ankle. The shock of the impact reverberates up my arm. I stagger back. I hardly made a scratch in this troll’s thick hide.

  It swipes at me and picks me up in its other hand.

  I grip my swords as they’re slammed into my sides. If I wore anything lighter than leather I’d have sliced my legs open.

  The troll brings Galen’s head toward its mouth.

  I scream and squeeze my eyes shut. I wish it was me instead! Pick me instead! I squirm, struggle, to no avail.

  A loud clank and a roar and a thunk startle my eyes open. Galen’s on the stone floor. He cries in pain, but he’s in one piece.

  The troll grips its mouth with its free hand and howls. It shakes me. My teeth might fall out. My brain rattles.

  It stumbles backward and hits the ground. Galen yells. The creature howls and releases me.

  I scamper away from it as best I can.

  Galen stabs the beast. It knocks him over with its fierce blow. He rolls, jumps to his feet and stabs it again.

  Recovering my wits, I jog to Galen’s aid. If I’m even needed. The troll grips its foot and howls, rolling on the ground.

  A new growl and roar resounds in the cave. Another troll? Galen stands in front of me. Does he think I’m a child that needs to be protected? I’ve fought so much on my own already. Still, I want to hide from the hulking shadow that bounds toward us. I grab my shield and hold it aloft.

  Why isn’t Galen doing the same?

  There’s a crash and a crunch and the troll screams as Galen yells.

  I leap up to Galen’s aid as the troll topples backward. And another troll, larger than the last two, pounces in front of me.

  “Stab its feet!” Galen shouts.

  I thrust my sword into the foot closest to me. Galen jumps to my side and swipes its ankle. He pulls me out of the way as the creature topples forward.

  Galen climbs over its hulking mass and stabs its back.

  Shaking, I back away toward the small alcove where we had spent the night. Outside the wider cave, in the forest, there’s another roar. Then a crash as of stone against stone.

  Galen wraps his arm around me and pulls me into the wider cave behind the troll he just killed.

  “We’ll be safer here.” He draws me close to him and our breastplates clank lightly.

  “What about that other one trying to break through?”

  “Let’s hope dawn comes first.”

  “Are there more of those things in here?”

  “There shouldn’t be. There never have been before. The only thing I can think of is that they came in here as young troll-lings and grew up inside the cave.”

  A deafening crash bellows through the darkness. There’s an ear splitting roar, then silence.

  I sit crouched behind the foul smelling carcass of the troll, afraid to move or speak.

  Galen stays silent as well. He gently squeezes my hand.

  Long minutes pass where the only sound is the ghostly moaning, deeper in the tunnel.

  A speck of dim light shines high on the wall.

  “I’m sorry,” Galen whispers. “I should have been more concerned about protecting you than kissing you.”

  “I wanted to kiss you.”

  “I know. And I wouldn’t have stopped.” He leans over and plants a kiss on the side of my lips.

  I smile, but pull away. “I can’t here. Not next to the troll. Besides, you’re right, we wouldn’t have stopped. And we might have done something we regretted.”

  “I wouldn’t regret it. Not with you.”

  “Galen, we’re not married. I’ve done enough of that and it hurts. The pain lingers in my heart far too long.”

  “Oh.” The disappointment in his voice pulls all my emotions. “It looks like dawn has come. We should go.”

  I follow him as he climbs up some projections of rock toward the light.

  Outside in the sunlight, the stone body of another troll, much larger than the first three, lies crumpled on the forest floor. We climb over it to the ground below.

  Through the trees, I see the lamb’s mountain. It’s even more beautiful at dawn than at sunset. Sunlight catches the mist hanging on lush trees, tinging the thin clouds yellow, pink and orange.

  “We still have to be cautious,” Galen says. “Stone giants patrol these woods.”

  We step through the small mouth of the tunnel into the forest. The air out here is so much clearer.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Galen asks again, eyes pleading.

  I press my cheek against his neck, panting. “I want to be with you, Galen. But I miss my family so much. Please understand—if I could have both, I’d be so happy.” I look up at the lamb’s mountain, which glows with gentle pastels in the sunrise. “I need to go there. I promised. And I want to.”

  His sweet frown deepens. “I betrayed your trust in there. And I don’t intend to do that again. But will you trust me once more?”

  “I will.”

  “Everything, and I mean everything will try to stop us from getting to that mountain. There’s this little path Silas and I found that leads straight down the mountain to a shallow part of the river. But we’ve got to run and we can’t look back, not for anything.”

  “Did you ever make it to the bottom of this mountain?”

  He shakes his head. “We kept looking back.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it.” My insides tremble.

  “Just hold my hand. I’ll help you.”

  “You don’t understand, Galen, I—” Staring at this side of the mountain, west and east, my voice gets caught in my throat.

  “What are you most afraid of?”

  “Me,” I confess. “I always fail at this sort of thing. I’m always the one who looks back.”

  “But maybe you won’t this time. Maybe this time will be different.”

  “I don’t know how it can.” I look pleadingly at Galen, hoping to glean some of his courage.

  He stares at the narrow path, his jaw hanging open.

  I follow his gaze.

  The lamb stands in the midst of the path staring at us. Staring at me. He’s so far away, but I hear his voice as if he’s right beside me, whispering into the depths of my
heart. “Keep your eyes on me, Miya.”

  I grip Galen’s hand.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  Without taking my eyes off the lamb, I reply, “Yes, I finally am.”

  We bolt toward the path, leaping over sticks and stones, scrambling over fallen trees. Behind us, all manner of noises gather: growls, shrieks, hollers, roars, even screeches from the sky. Ahead, the lamb runs with agility I only hope to match. He’s much swifter than we are and so far ahead, but he stops every hundred feet and glances back at Galen and me.

  I clutch my shield in one hand and Galen’s hand in the other. Great black birds, like crows or ravens, only larger, swoop down at our heads with deafening caws. The ground beneath us pounds and rattles with the feet of our pursuers.

  It takes all my strength to keep running forward, to keep from turning around.

  The lamb bounds faster down the mountain, but stops more frequently. Every time I see his face, my strength is renewed.

  The river is not far now, but I feel the crowd of beastly pursuers closing in on Galen and me.

  A dozen times or more, I nearly trip, but somehow my feet land steady on my next step.

  The lamb leaps into the middle of the river. Just a few more steps now.

  I jump over a fallen tree, but this time my foot catches a protrusion. I release Galen’s hand as I start to tumble. Head over heels I roll toward the river, unable to stop myself. I’m going to throw up. I’m going to throw up. I’m so dizzy, and jolted every time my head hits a rock. My whole body feels the pounding of the giant footsteps, the roars, the screeches, the growls, the screams.

  My body rolls into the water and stops. I groan, hardly able to open my eyes, hardly able to move. I open my eyes just wide enough to see the legs of the lamb. He stands over me. The river bubbles and gurgles around my crumpled body.

  In a few moments, Galen crouches at my side, beneath the belly of the lamb, who is somehow so huge that if I could stand at all, I’d fit standing under his belly.

  Galen’s weeping and holding my limp, wet hand. “I’m so sorry, Miya. I’m so sorry I let go. I’m so sorry…”