by Jen Guberman
In the morning, I had a quick breakfast of some of the produce from the Avid garden, the sounds of my chewing filling my head in the nearly maddening silence of the house. The windows were covered in soot, the sun illuminating them in a smudged glow. After I finished my breakfast, I sat for a minute, trying to enjoy the peace of the moment, but instead just finding that I was feeling even more alone. How could Zane just leave me with Tanner? Was he really as much of a jerk as he first let on?
I left the house, making my way through the ruined village, back into the scape of sand. I tried to distract myself, focusing on the feeling of my feet pressing into the soft sand with every step I took. How am I supposed to get the Avid key now? Or the Delaisse key, assuming Zane found it? The best I can hope for is that I will either run into him while looking for the Equivox key, or maybe for one of the other keys… Or maybe he plans to go back to Avid.
I continued to play through possibilities in my mind along the way, stopping for occasional breaks, until finally my surroundings changed. Slowly, the golden hues of the barren terrain transformed into fertile dirt, which gave way to lush, green life the farther I progressed. When I was fully surrounded by green, I could feel the overgrown blades of grass tickle my calves. It was darker, the ground was shaded by the thick trees, the air was crisp, and the dewdrops on the grass felt cool against my legs as I walked through the foliage.
Deeper in the greenery, I noticed patches of mushrooms with a faint violet color to them. I squatted down, wanting to get a closer look at one, when I noticed the trickling sounds of water in the silence created when I was no longer trudging through the grass. Holding still, I listened closely, trying to detect the location of the water. I still had another full water bottle, but it would be a good opportunity to fill the others if I could find the source of the noise.
I turned to the left, creeping silently, pausing occasionally to listen again for the water. A few yards away, I saw it—a narrow creek in a shallow dip in the land. Crouching next to the water, I held a bottle to it, the icy water rushing through my submerged fingers. The stones in the creek were smooth and rounded from the constant flow of the water, and the rocks just along the water’s edge were covered in thick moss. I pulled my boots and socks off, lowering my feet into the frigid water. I was taken aback for a moment by the sudden sensation on my feet, but when it no longer felt so sharp, I pulled out the map, letting my feet soak.
Equivox was labeled on the map in the middle of a region of green ink—presumably the forest area I was currently in. I tucked the map back into my bag, replaced my boots, and decided to continue along, following the flow of the creek. I went on this way for about an hour before I hit a thick wall of trees through the raised roots of which the creek continued. I looked in either direction, noticing that the trees continued in this solid wall as far as I could make out.
Now what?
I searched for a low branch. I’ll just repeat what I did when I left Avid, I reassured myself, as if I knew what I was doing this time, when I knew I very likely didn’t have a clue how to climb a tree again. Piece of cake.
Spotting a low-hanging limb well within my reach, I gave myself a running start, swinging my legs around the branch as I clung to it. I shimmied my way upright and eased myself onto my feet, reaching for the next nearest arm. I slowly made my way up the tree until I spotted a lower limb on the other side of the tree that I knew I would be able to reach. If I can make it to that branch, I can work my way down the tree and continue heading straight. I clung to the trunk as I stepped across a couple branches until the limb I was hoping to reach was just below me, but still many feet above the ground. The leaves were so thick, I realized, that I couldn’t even see the ground at that moment. I sighed, half out of exhaustion, half out of nerves as I lowered myself, toeing around for the branch. When my foot had made contact with it, still holding onto the tree, I dropped my weight onto the limb just as it gave out from under my foot with a loud snap.
I let out a startled scream as I hung there, my body pressed to the bark. I could feel splinters pricking my hands as I slid a couple inches. I groaned. Peering down, I couldn’t see any visible branches beneath me—only thick leaves and twigs. I pondered for a moment how far of a drop it would be if I just let go. I can’t, I panicked. There has to be another way. I looked to my right, seeing a thick branch just a couple inches below where I was holding on, but too high up for me to reach with my legs.
I counted down from five under my breath. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1—I let go of my grip on the trunk and rapidly threw my arms towards the branch on my right, narrowly missing it as I began to fall to the ground. Cracking and crunching sounds filled my ears and twigs and leaves around me cut my face as I fell through them. I collided with the grassy floor with a thud, knocking the air out of my lungs as I landed on my hip, crushing my right wrist beneath it. I yelped in pain, my vision searing white for a moment before my eyes welled up with tears. I bit my lip, holding back sobs as I held my hand in front of me. My wrist was already beginning to swell. I sniffled as I carefully inspected the rest of my body for damage. Aside from my wrist, it seemed as though I had only incurred minor cuts and scrapes. My hip was a bit sore from landing on my wrist, but upon inspection, it seemed to be fine aside from a small bruise. I eased myself onto my feet shakily, clutching my right wrist in my left hand as I persisted in the same direction.
A short distance away, I could see that the foliage abruptly stopped. Making my way to the edge of the green, I noticed that the ground stopped there too. Standing with my toes at the edge of a cliff, I looked down upon the small town of Equivox.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
At the bottom of the cliff, I could see houses—small cottages with dark thatched roofs and cream-colored walls. The buildings were no more than two stories tall and looked only large enough to house one or two families each. Looking longer at the crater-like valley, I noticed a small lake below me. The water that managed to pass beneath the tree roots proceeded to drip down into the lake below. From my perch at the top of the cliff, the houses seemed as small as my thumb. That’s a long way down… I observed the edges of the cliff around the entirety of the pit, seeing no feasible way to climb down. There has to be a way in and out of the pit, otherwise they would have no way of transporting people or supplies.
I looked around carefully for a route to take but couldn’t find anything but cliff sides. I can figure out how to get out once I’ve gotten down there—it might be easier close-up to see where the exit is, and it will give me a better chance of waiting it out to see if anyone brings rations or anything—then I can leave the way they come.
My first obstacle would be to get into Equivox at this point. I contemplated trying to climb down the rocky wall of the cliff but realized it would be impossible with my injured wrist. I looked down again at the lake. No, I told myself. Not an option. I searched desperately for another way down, realizing jumping into the lake might be my best bet. I swore under my breath. It’s too late to turn back now, I reminded myself.
I took a few steps backwards, still holding my wrist in my other hand as I prepared myself to run and jump. Just as I was about to start, I realized I had papers in my bag—the map, the Key papers, my money, and my family photo. I turned to face the trees behind me. Picking one that the creek did not run beneath, I dug a shallow hole near the roots, folded all of my papers, and tucked them into the hole. I piled some of the dirt back on them and pulled my knife out of my jacket pocket. I turned it over in my hands, letting the light hit the emerald eyes of the silver snakes, the gems glimmering a stunning green. Grasping the handle with my good hand, I stabbed full force at the tree, cutting into the bark. The blade moved slowly as I dragged it across the trunk in the shape of an E.
Once I was satisfied with my hiding place, I turned back to the cliff edge. I pressed my bag tight to my chest with my right arm, holding my right wrist with my left hand for support. I swallowed a deep breath and took off running toward the edg
e.
I felt the ground disappear beneath my feet as I flew toward the water below. Air rushed past me, whipping my long hair around my face as I began to turn in my fall, my back to the water. I tried to condense myself into a ball as I flew and all I could hear was the whooshing of air in my ears for a few moments until suddenly, my entire body was slammed with the chilly sharpness of the lake. My chest felt tight—my lungs empty as I made impact with the water. I saw black envelop me as my coat billowed around me, a cloud of bubbles rushing to the surface as I sunk. I kicked hard against the water with my boots, struggling to move. In my struggle, a silvery glint of light struck my eye from the bottom of the lake. I kept kicking upwards, eventually surfacing with a gasp. My lungs burned, and my wrist was searing with pain from instinctually using both hands to swim. I brushed my matted hair out of my face as I paddled to the water’s edge, toward a patch of small bushes. I pulled myself carefully onto the ground, spread my saturated coat out in the grass nearby, removed my boots, and stuck them and my bag in the coverage of the bushes before dropping back into the water. What’s at the bottom of the lake?
I took a deep breath and dove straight down as rapidly as I could. The lake wasn’t incredibly deep, but I had little experience swimming, and never in deep water—only in a small local pool in Rockhallow. By the time I reached the bottom, I could feel a stinging in my lungs as I searched frantically for the source of the silver light. Suddenly, I saw it. It looked like a mirrored box, slightly larger than the one I had found in the garbage back at Avid, but it was rounded. It was buried partially by mud, which I tried to scoop away. Before I could completely reveal the box, the stinging in my lungs had gotten so severe that my vision was beginning to go dark. Panicked, I propelled myself back toward the surface. Once able to breathe again, I sputtered, choking up water and gulping in oxygen. One more time, I persuaded myself. You don’t know what might be in that box. But then again, it might be empty.
I took in a mouthful of air and weakly pulled myself back down to the box. I pushed aside more of the thick mud, but the water kept pulling it over the box. I buried my fingers into the ground, wrapping them around the box and tugging, but the suction was too great. My lungs burning, I pushed back up to the surface again for air. Again, I commanded myself, diving down. Unsurprisingly, the mud wouldn’t release its grip on the box. Again, I pushed, sluggishly dipping down toward the lake bottom. This time, I slipped my fingers into the mud, locking them under the bottom of the box. Instead of pulling directly upwards, I wiggled the box, twisting and turning it through the mud. It finally loosened, and I swam back to the surface and over to the bushes, wanting to get out of the water before opening it. I sat crisscross in the grass with the mirrored box in my lap as I peeked under the lid. It was a tiny silver key. Is this the Equivox key? Just as I reached into the box to observe the key, I heard a voice.
“Oooh what’chu’ got there?” the voice asked.
I slammed the lid shut.
“Nothing,” I hastily replied, turning around and seeing that the source of the voice was a young girl of about 6 or 7.
“What’s that in your lap?” she pressed.
“It’s—just my old jewelry box,” I said, pretending to dust it off. “I was just washing it off because it was really dirty.”
“You’re lying to me,” the girl said with surprising anger. “I can tell.”
“No, I’m not. It’s just a jewelry box, see?” I held it up innocently.
“Open it.”
“I don’t want you to see my jewelry—you might want to steal it when I’m not looking,” I accused.
“Stealing is for dirty, rotten Avid thieves,” she hissed.
“Why are you in Equivox anyways?” I distracted her. “Aren’t you too young?”
“You’re making it really obvious you aren’t from here. Everybody here knows me, and I know everybody here. I was born here,” she said pragmatically.
“I’m new here,” I stated plainly.
“Stop lying. You’re a terrible liar, and that’s why I know you don’t belong here. Also, I saw you come from the sky. Did you fall? Were you running from something? Did you find that box here? Why won’t you show me what’s in it?”
“You ask a lot of questions. None of that matters, I just want to leave and go back home is all.”
“You’re all wet. Come home with me and my mom can give you a towel and some food, okay? If we give you food and a towel, can you tell me what’s really in the box?” She held out a small hand to me.
“Um, okay,” I said hesitantly. If this little girl decided to start screaming at me or something, it could cause a lot more problems than it might if I just humor her, I rationalized. I grabbed my wet coat and turned to retrieve my bag and boots from the bush, but then realized the little girl’s curiosity could get me in more trouble if I brought my bag, so I left it.
The girl grabbed my hand and guided me toward the houses.
“What’s your name? Where are you from? Why were you running?” she continued to pry.
“My name is Elle,” I lied, using the same name I told Tanner back in Delaisse. “I was just running because I ran away from home and I’m really mad at my parents. I didn’t want them to find me, so I jumped. I was hoping to hide here, but now I’m afraid I can’t get back out.”
“There’s a way out,” she said.
“Where is it?”
Silent, the corner of her mouth twitched up in an almost smirk as she looked at me.
“How do I get out of here?” I repeated.
“This is my house up here,” she changed the subject, pointing at a two-story building with a walnut door. Before we entered, I quickly stuffed the mirrored box into one of my jacket pockets.
The child’s house was similar to the other houses in Equivox—cream-colored walls, a deep brown thatched roof, and very few windows. She tugged on my hand, leading me into the house. Tentatively, I stepped into the doorway with her.
“Mom!” she shouted.
No response.
“Mom! I brought a friend home—can she have dinner with us?” she continued to call.
A petite woman with waist-length, wavy russet hair appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Of course,” she smiled, the skin around her eyes smooth, lacking the crinkled appearance of someone who is genuinely happy. She descended the stairs, her hand carefully gliding along the banister.
“Renée,” she said, offering her hand to me.
“Elle,” I said without hesitation, shaking her hand.
“Have you been here long?” she questioned. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“Um—”
“She ran away from home and ended up here,” the girl answered for me.
“Oh,” Renée sighed worriedly, squinting at me as if concentrating.
“It’s a long story,” I huffed dramatically. Don’t try so hard, I reminded myself. I suck at lying.
“How long have you been on your own?” Renée asked softly.
“I haven’t been away for very long.”
“She won’t tell me what’s in it,” the girl whined.
“In what?” her mother questioned.
“Her box! She’s hiding a box in her jacket!”
“Eloise, my child, you have yet to learn the art of keeping quiet and minding your own business,” Renée laughed airily.
“But mom,” she pouted. “She’s keeping secrets!”
“Everyone has their fair share of secrets, Eloise,” she said calmly.
“Ughhh,” Eloise groaned, crossing her arms.
“Why do you want to know what’s in the box so badly?” I asked.
“I’m just curious!” she cried defensively.
“I promise, it isn’t anything that would be important to you,” I said.
“Let me get you a towel,” Renée offered, looking down at the puddle forming around my feet. She disappeared behind a door and reappeared a moment later with a thin, stained towel
.
“Thanks,” I said, drying my hair.
“We’re having vegetable soup for dinner if you’d like to join us,” she said.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“It’s not a problem at all. We all get our rations distributed in a couple days anyways—I’m just using up the last of it.”
“Are you sure?” I checked.
“Of course! Sit, sit!”
I sat around a lopsided, round family table, feeling my wet clothes squish in my seat. I shifted uncomfortably, and Eloise giggled.
“Go wash your hands before dinner, Eloise,” Renée said.
Eloise skipped down a short hallway and turned into one of the doorways.
“She doesn’t really have any friends,” Renée told me in a hushed voice. “Her situation is rare—not many kids are ever born into exile towns, so the people here closest to her age are still more than twice her age. I can tell you are much older than her as well, but it’s still nice to see her happy like this. I know tha—”
Eloise made her way back down the hallway, and her mother silenced herself. Renée gave a pot on the stove a few stirs. She smiled without revealing her teeth as she pulled three plastic bowls out of a cabinet and began to spoon the steaming broth into them. She brought the bowls to the table, and her and her daughter began eating instantly. I looked down at the bowl of soup in front of me. The broth was nearly as clear as water, with a thin layer of white rice floating around the lumps of celery and carrot. These two have so little to spare, but they still shared with me, I thought, grateful for their generosity. They almost seem too nice to be in an exile town. But then again, Eloise didn’t do anything—she was born into it. Renée may be in a town for pathological liars, but maybe she has changed in her time here, or maybe there’s just nothing to lie about to a stranger like me. It isn’t like she has told me much anyways.
I continued to think to myself in silence as I ate until an excited Eloise interrupted my thoughts.
“Oooh, mom! Can Elle spend the night?”