by HM Waugh
I proceed quicker after that, gaining confidence. I must be close to midway. I look back to check, then freeze.
Princess Rishala is standing behind me, halfway between me and the side I came from. When did she get there? For a second I think she might be just another ghost, but then I see the way the bridge strains beneath her feet, and I know I’m not that lucky.
The Princess smiles, doesn’t seem at all worried.
‘Sunaya, it is good to see you.’
She steps forward and the bridge groans. I put up my hand. ‘Wait! Princess, I don’t think this bridge can hold the two of us!’
She cocks her head, forehead wrinkling. ‘What did you say?’ She steps forward again.
Can she not feel the struggle of the bridge beneath us?
‘Stop! Please! The bridge will fall!’
She finally comprehends what I’m saying and freezes. It’s not enough. One of the struts between us snaps so the bridge is held by only three. It sags to the side and I adjust my stance to compensate. I can sense the weakness of the other struts, and I know that this bridge will not hold long with both of us on it.
I look the way I’m heading, and I know I can get there if I run. The Princess won’t be so lucky. But I have to think about me, and about Danam.
Don’t I?
In my mind I see Praseep’s face when he talks about Protecting his sister, and I imagine what he’d think if I turned up and told him I’d let his sister, the Ice-People’s Crown Princess, fall into a chasm. It would be unforgivable. Any of her guards would die to save her.
Danam was ready to die to save her. Protecting the Princess and ensuring she takes the throne is the whole reason he’s here. And he’s the reason I’m here. I get a vivid memory of her face when she described her people to Danam, and of their joy when they saw her in the SkyCity. If anyone can fix the problems the Ice-People face, it’s her. She’ll make a great Queen someday. But not if she’s dead at the bottom of a chasm.
I swallow. ‘Go back slowly, Your Highness. Try not to rock the bridge.’
For the first time, she seems to realise our predicament. ‘What about you?’
‘I’ll work something out,’ I say, blood thumping in my ears. ‘It’s you that’s most important.’
‘Are you sure? Sunaya, you could die!’
I bite my lip. ‘Go back to the main chamber, Your Highness. Praseep’s there, he’s injured.’
She takes a tentative step backwards, and a second stay snaps. Her eyes widen, and she stares at me.
I clasp my hands to stop them shaking. ‘Go, please, Your Highness. Now!’
She turns and inches achingly slowly back towards safety. The bridge creaks and rocks. At one point a plank snaps under her foot and the wood tumbles, spinning endlessly, into the void below.
‘Careful Your Highness,’ I call. ‘Slowly. Take your time.’
Even now, I’m sure if I turned and ran, I could make it out. But the Princess wouldn’t. I think of Praseep and I hold still. Tears slide down my cheeks. Tears for Danam, for me, for Mera who will never know what happened to either of us.
Princess Rishala is one step from solid rock when the third stay snaps, and the entire bridge rocks wildly back and forth. I have to hold on tight to the railings, long enough to see her leap to safety. Then I turn and run.
It’s too late, I know it. But I can’t just stand there and let death come to me. The last stay snaps behind me. The bridge begins to fall.
And I fall with it.
Down towards the impenetrable darkness. Down towards death. Fear is like ice in my lungs and I grip the rope railings with every inch of my strength.
I’m falling. My fingers are slipping …
And I hit softness that catches me. I lie still, scarcely believing.
Not falling anymore. What has stopped me?
I roll over, only to see the Princess vanishing into thin air, just like the girl had before her. So she had been a vision, too. Magic runs fingers down my spine as I watch the bridge reform above my head. It was a Test. She was the Test. It was only a Test. The tears fall steadily now, so thick they could choke me. I was sure I was dead.
But now I lie on a mattress as soft as the clouds themselves. I’ve passed the second Test.
And Danam has another chance.
I guess the bridge Test was Courage. What else would you call my actions?
No time to waste. I struggle up to see where I am. If I focus, I can feel the memory of Danam. Here on this mat, and through the gaping doorway next to me. He passed the second Test too.
Far from being a chasm, the reality of this place now shows. Just a chamber again, the dripping roof not far above the dark space that marks my entry point. My light reflects off crystalline stalactites that carpet the ceiling, as thin as herding sticks but as tall as a person. A resonant plinking sounds as droplets fall from above to land in a shining black lake that stretches out beyond the mattress I’m on. And on the wall I was running to, but well below the actual tunnel I’d been aiming for, is another tunnel. And it’s evidently meant for me.
I wonder what happens to those who go down the wrong tunnels, by not conforming to the Tests? Where do they lead? Out to disappointment?
I shake my head, and climb to my feet. My legs are still weak with the memory of expectant death, but I hobble out of the chamber and down the tunnel.
There is a breeze in my face, and it’s cold enough to make me shiver. I pull the ghost girl’s useless cloak tighter around me, and pick up my pace.
Chapter 18
I’m sure it is hours later that I huddle, breathing deeply, just inside the opening of yet another tunnel, looking out at the scene before me. If I ever find my way out of these Dragon Tests, I’ll have a word to whoever put them together, whoever knowingly makes the Applicant exchange their own perfectly good cloak for a piece of cheesecloth, and then sends that Applicant out into a frigid blizzard in the middle of the night.
It’s just not nice.
I’m sure I’ve already passed Compassion and Courage. That leaves Fortitude, Resilience and Strength.
My mind comes up with the hopeful thought that maybe this Freezing-to-Death level Tests all three, and I’ll soon be drinking hot butter tea with Praseep and Danam. Well, with Praseep. Danam wouldn’t drink … I shake myself back to the present.
Because if there is one level Danam will fail on, it’s Strength. I have to hope he doesn’t get to that one before I catch up with him.
I know what I have to do. I can sense the other side of this level like a beacon. It is further along the small valley I’ve emerged into. I can’t see it, of course, because everything is a raging white-out glimmering in the silvery moonlight. Only the delirious or desperate would go out in weather like this.
I don’t have time to figure out which one I am.
I set my chin and leap out into the cold, using my powers to check the path, to make sure I don’t step onto dangerous ground. I take two steps before a wooden stake catches my attention. It is topped with red, blazing brightly in my torchlight. I whip my eyes around, and notice another gleaming not far away, leading in the general direction of the exit point.
By the Dragon, I don’t know what to do. By now, I’m ready to distrust everything I find here. I don’t know whether to follow the stakes or not.
If you find a marked path where you want to go, isn’t it smart to follow it?
But if you aren’t sure who marked it, isn’t it smarter to pick your own way?
I’m standing in a snowstorm doing honeyed nothing, so I’m failing already. I head forward to the second stake and use my mind to scout ahead down the marked path, then around generally. I imagine Uncle is behind me with his herding stick. Choose a path, Last Niece.
I remember the sting of the stick. Quickly! I go with my gut and veer away from the markers. I don’t like the way they feel like they’ll travel over the flat, I always prefer to travel just above the base of a slope. So that’s what I choose.
I’m making good progress, good enough to be happy with my choice, before I sense a problem up ahead. The snow feels fragile, hollow even. Frowning, I move left, down to the flat to avoid it. Straight away, I feel ice beneath me. And it’s too thin to keep going ahead. I dodge to the right again, keeping solid ground under the snow my boots walk on. I feel a sinkhole of sorts ahead, and I weave left to avoid it.
And I understand.
I’m negotiating a maze.
I get the feeling this whole maze must be an illusion, even the sinkholes, just a vision to heighten the pressure I’m feeling. Illusion or not, it’s working. My heartbeat is rising and each decision I make feels like it’s not fast enough. Like I need to get out of here quickly.
This is a Test.
It is only a Test.
Telling myself that doesn’t change anything.
A pit hides in front of me. Left is weak ice, to the right is unstable snow. Which way? I cannot pause to think. I form a snow ball quickly, throw it at the unstable slope. The small avalanche fills the pit and I speed through the fluffed up snow.
No time to waste.
I hear a snarl and look up.
Oh great.
A snow leopard is directly ahead, on the edge of the circle of light my box casts. A snow leopard! It bares its white teeth at me and I gulp. To the right a sheer rock, to the left the ice again. I backtrack quickly until I can climb the rock safely, then sprint across the top.
I’m almost there when I trip over one of the markers. I’ve returned to the original marked route. Did I make a mistake leaving it? Who can tell. I can only forge on. I wonder what Danam did?
The finish is straight ahead, I can feel it, and the way is clear.
But from behind me comes the merest twinge of trouble. It feels like Danam, but it is weak and unfocused. Is it him? Or is it part of the Test?
I’m turning without thinking, suppressing the urge to get to the end of the maze, to enter the relative warmth and safety of the tunnel.
Instead I head back along the marked route, towards the twinge I can feel. It is treacherous, even more than the path I took. At least I’ve worked out I did the right thing leaving the markers at the start.
The ice is thin and I have to bolster it like Praseep showed me in order to cross safely. Then the snow becomes too deep to walk through, and I use precious energy forming a heat ball to melt a way through for me. Each step takes me closer to where I sense Danam.
Except when I get there, he’s not there.
I let the heat ball collapse. I could kick myself.
I’ve fallen for one of their tricks again.
Wasted time.
I scowl at the thick snow all around me. The feel of Danam is so real, although weak, I can’t believe he’s not here. But the spot where my mind says he is, is only white.
Unless …
I gasp.
I dig at the snow, deep and soft, undisturbed, and still the feel of Danam remains beneath.
Without power, there is no way Danam could pass this Test. Which means there is only one place he can be.
I dig and dig and dig so deep I start to hope he’s not actually there.
When I reach the point where I should be contacting ground, still it is only soft snow. I’m bending over, digging down, and still it is soft.
What is this?
The snow is collapsing in. I have to widen my hole. My hand contacts hardness. The ground, but as a vertical wall. Digging is warming me up, but I chill as I trace this wall around. It’s like I’m digging out a pit that is filled with snow. Like so many other pits I’ve sensed as I negotiated my way through this level.
If I were Danam, greeted with this Test, but with no powers to sense ahead, would I strike out blindly? Or would I follow the path?
I would follow the marked path, and hope.
I jump into the pit and dig feverishly, and finally my frozen fingers touch on fabric.
Danam.
He is curled up on his side, barely breathing, though he has had the sense to keep the area around his mouth clear of snow. His life flickers uncertainly.
He has been here a while. Like me, he’s clad in a thin ghost-girl cloak rather than the luxurious white cloak he’d been gifted by the Princess.
And he is freezing.
I conjure a heat ball, and will into being a dome of snow over us, like Praseep did on top of the mountain. The air warms immediately, and I’m glad for it. I hope Danam feels the same relief.
I shake his shoulder. ‘Danam! Can you hear me?’
No response. His breathing is the only outward sign he’s alive. I pull off his gloves, start to rub his hands though it hurts like fire on my own freezing fingers. He doesn’t stir but the red, spreading warmth in them reassures me. Replacing the gloves, I turn to his feet, hauling off his sodden boots and friction-warming his toes. The pit we’re in is heating up, water dripping from the sides. I’m getting warmer, but is Danam?
I shake his shoulders and call his name again.
This time, he groans and curls up tighter. ‘… Cold …’
I grin. He’s alive. He might not get away with all his fingers and toes, and frankly the ear facing me looks dodgy. But he’s alive.
I don’t know how we’re going to get out. Danam weighs too much for me to carry. Would the bridge even let us go back the other way? Would it be smarter to wait for sunrise? I push the panicked thoughts away, focus on what I can change now.
Danam needs to get warmer. I pull my cloak off. Miserable though it is, it will be better than nothing.
‘Come, Danam, help me sit you up. Danam!’
He responds only groggily. In the end I need to use my powers to lift the snow beneath him in order to get him into a sitting position. I put my cloak over him as well, and then hug him to me, rubbing his arms and his back briskly.
He stirs again. ‘Hurts …’
‘Sorry, I need to warm you up.’
‘No. Leg.’
‘Are you feeling warmer?’
He nods, grimaces, face stretched tight. He’s in pain. I help him to lie back down, and wrap both cloaks around his body tightly. Now he’s not imminently dying, I can focus on the rest of him.
I feel around his body. Nothing seems to affect him until I start down his left leg. He groans in pain as I investigate, and my hands shiver back.
Even through his trousers I can feel his shin is broken. Swollen. Twisted sideways, sharp shards sticking through the skin.
He must have hurt himself falling into this pit and been lying here, injured and freezing, for hours.
He would’ve died if I hadn’t found him. He may still. How can I get him out of here with only one good leg?
I look away so Danam won’t notice the desperate tear escaping one eye.
‘That bad, huh?’ he mumbles.
I square my shoulders and look back at him. ‘Not so bad,’ I lie. If only I could Heal like Praseep. I try to remember what he did with my arm. It can’t be that hard.
Danam shakes his head slowly. ‘Don’t worry, I can Heal it. Praseep talked about us Protectors being able to Heal … I can Heal it.’
‘Great,’ I say soothingly. I want him to relax more.
My mind fumbles around the break, and the hot pain that pulses from it. I remember Praseep’s warning, about how untrained Healing can make it worse. But really? How can I possibly make this any worse than it is? Without two good legs, Danam dies here.
I press my hands gently against the break, like Praseep pressed my cut. And I weave at the pain with my mind, blindly trying to bind everything back together the way it should be.
Danam cries out.
I remove my hands. The leg is still swollen, but maybe that’s normal?
‘How does it feel?’ I ask.
‘What did you do?’ His voice is stronger, his face a healthier colour.
I take a breath. ‘I Healed your leg.’
‘No, Sunaya. I Healed my leg, but you got in the way
with your hands, and now I think I’ve messed it up. No! Please! Don’t touch it again!’
He pulls up his pant leg to reveal …
I gasp. By the Dragon, I think I’ve bound it without setting it right. It has a big bend halfway down the shin, and the skin stretches strangely over the bulge. Danam’s face bleaches with shock.
‘At least it doesn’t hurt anymore …’ I say.
‘But how can I walk on this? How can I finish the Tests on a leg like this?’
I lean forward. ‘We’re not finishing the Tests, we’re getting you out of here, to safety.’
‘I need to finish, I have to so I can be Princess Rishala’s Protector.’
I bite my lip. ‘Danam, there has been a mistake. It wasn’t you they were looking for, it was me. I’m the one who’ll be her Cloud Dragon.’
He laughs at me. ‘You’re still jealous. I thought more of you than that, Sunaya. Thanks for finding me, I appreciate your concern, but it’s time for me to get back to what I’m destined to do.’ He frowns down at his leg. ‘If I can.’
I stare at him. There is nothing I can think of saying to help him understand.
I’m interrupted by the sound of knocking, like someone rapping at a door. Except there aren’t any doors around here.
I look around wildly.
‘What’s that noise?’ Danam is looking around too, his face falling into confusion. ‘Where are we? Who made that heat ball?’
The knocking happens again. It’s coming from above. I look up and see a glowing halo of a light box beyond my snow dome. Praseep. If I hadn’t been so involved in Danam I would have felt him before now.
Someone else is there, too.
Aji.
I grin in disbelieving joy. We’re saved! I stand up and dissolve the snow dome.
Danam shivers. ‘What … Praseep, is that you? Thank the Mountain.’
Praseep looks down into the pit, takes in the heat ball and the warmth, and nods at me. ‘Nice. Aji, quick.’ He jumps in, and Aji follows. Before I think of doing it, a snow dome replaces the one I had released.
I hug them both. ‘What are you doing here?’