Paedrin drifted down to be closer to her in case she needed help. She bit her lip in concentration, judging each outcropping and angle to find the best position to ascend. He was proud of her willingness to try. The ascent was agonizingly slow.
“I’m getting…so tired,” she said after a particularly difficult reach. “How much farther is it?”
Paedrin did not want to leave her side to determine it. “Not much farther. You are almost there.”
They were not almost there though. Her pace slowed considerably. There was hardly any place to rest or catch her breath. She sagged against the cliff face, pressing her cheek against the rock. Time crawled forward. Paedrin stayed even closer to her, keeping a hand nearby just in case.
There was a bulge in the rock that had not been visible through the mist when they left the path. Hettie’s brow furrowed in concern. “My arms…” she panted.
“Almost there,” Paedrin said. He grimaced, knowing it was a lie. Hettie hung her head, breathing deeply, and then started up again.
Her foot slipped on the mist-slick stone.
Paedrin saw her fall. He reached and caught her flailing arms as she started to plunge down. His breath would not support them both and he felt them dragged down like an iron anchor at sea. Rocks scraped against them as they scrabbled down the cliff face.
“Grab something! Grab something!” he ordered, feeling the edge of the cliff give way to open air. Panic flooded his chest. He would go down with her. He would give his breath to slow the fall if he could. There was blood on her fingers, her cheek. Her fingers found a lip of rock, halting the fall. Her legs dangled in the air. Paedrin inhaled sharply, grabbed her by the belt, and pulled. Her arms, though tired, prevailed, and she managed to make it high enough to find purchase with her feet.
There, she rested, hugging the cliff face with her entire body, burying her wounded cheek against the rock. Her shoulders began to heave and tremble. She was coughing. No, she was crying. His heart twisted with anguish at the sound, for it caused him pain. Hettie tried to control her breathing, to stifle her sobs, and failed. Her hair shook with the quiet sounds. Below, waves continued to crash against the base of the rock.
He touched the small of her back, hovering in the air behind her. “I won’t let you fall,” he promised. “A little farther.”
She nodded and reached up for the next handhold. The trek was impossibly difficult. It amazed him how high the cliff was without seeing anything above. The daylight faded. Hettie pulled herself up farther, one step at a time, one grasp at a time. Her limbs shook with the strain. He could feel the muscles in her back through the tunic.
The sun set.
Still, Hettie persevered. The moon rose, sending its silvery light to the glistening black rock. They were both feeling their way forward now, their sight diminished to the point of being useless. He stayed right behind her, guiding her and coaxing her.
Finally she reached the top, just at the base of the temple, in a little alcove just wide enough to fit them both, side by side. The rock sloped downward, just enough to make him feel they would slide off the edge of the cliff if they breathed wrong.
“You did it,” Paedrin said to her triumphantly.
Hettie leaned against the hard stone of the temple wall, gasping for breath. She nodded with a leaden, slack expression. “I thought…I thought…the fall.” She shook her head wanly. “Death. I thought I was going to die.”
He patted her leg comfortingly.
Suddenly she grabbed him in a fierce hug, burying her face against his shoulder. Her whole body trembled and quaked. He put his arm around her, pulling her close, and stroked her hair.
“I wouldn’t let you fall,” he whispered. “I was there.”
She shook her head against his shirt. Her face tilted up, lost in the shadows of the temple and the midnight sky. He could feel her breath hot against his cheek. “I ran out of strength,” she whispered. “It was too much for me. Not even my stubbornness was enough.” She gripped the front of his tunic. “I could have died tonight. I’m so used to being on my own. To relying only on myself. It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t strong enough.”
He didn’t know what to say. “It was you, Hettie. You did it. You conquered the mountain.”
“No, Paedrin. It was you. You carried me up the cliff. You saved me from falling. I could have died. You’ve saved me so many times. In the cave where we found the dagger. You saved me then too.” She shook her head and he could feel the hair tickle his cheek. Her shoulders trembled. “I’m so frightened, Paedrin. What if this task is too much for us? For you as well? What if the Scourgelands cannot be defeated? My father died there and he was Aboujaoude. He was better than even you. Now here we are, alone. I’m frightened. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared.”
“I’m getting…so tired,” she said after a particularly difficult reach. “How much farther is it?”
Paedrin did not want to leave her side to determine it. “Not much farther. You are almost there.”
They were not almost there though. Her pace slowed considerably. There was hardly any place to rest or catch her breath. She sagged against the cliff face, pressing her cheek against the rock. Time crawled forward. Paedrin stayed even closer to her, keeping a hand nearby just in case.
There was a bulge in the rock that had not been visible through the mist when they left the path. Hettie’s brow furrowed in concern. “My arms…” she panted.
“Almost there,” Paedrin said. He grimaced, knowing it was a lie. Hettie hung her head, breathing deeply, and then started up again.
Her foot slipped on the mist-slick stone.
Paedrin saw her fall. He reached and caught her flailing arms as she started to plunge down. His breath would not support them both and he felt them dragged down like an iron anchor at sea. Rocks scraped against them as they scrabbled down the cliff face.
“Grab something! Grab something!” he ordered, feeling the edge of the cliff give way to open air. Panic flooded his chest. He would go down with her. He would give his breath to slow the fall if he could. There was blood on her fingers, her cheek. Her fingers found a lip of rock, halting the fall. Her legs dangled in the air. Paedrin inhaled sharply, grabbed her by the belt, and pulled. Her arms, though tired, prevailed, and she managed to make it high enough to find purchase with her feet.
There, she rested, hugging the cliff face with her entire body, burying her wounded cheek against the rock. Her shoulders began to heave and tremble. She was coughing. No, she was crying. His heart twisted with anguish at the sound, for it caused him pain. Hettie tried to control her breathing, to stifle her sobs, and failed. Her hair shook with the quiet sounds. Below, waves continued to crash against the base of the rock.
He touched the small of her back, hovering in the air behind her. “I won’t let you fall,” he promised. “A little farther.”
She nodded and reached up for the next handhold. The trek was impossibly difficult. It amazed him how high the cliff was without seeing anything above. The daylight faded. Hettie pulled herself up farther, one step at a time, one grasp at a time. Her limbs shook with the strain. He could feel the muscles in her back through the tunic.
The sun set.
Still, Hettie persevered. The moon rose, sending its silvery light to the glistening black rock. They were both feeling their way forward now, their sight diminished to the point of being useless. He stayed right behind her, guiding her and coaxing her.
Finally she reached the top, just at the base of the temple, in a little alcove just wide enough to fit them both, side by side. The rock sloped downward, just enough to make him feel they would slide off the edge of the cliff if they breathed wrong.
“You did it,” Paedrin said to her triumphantly.
Hettie leaned against the hard stone of the temple wall, gasping for breath. She nodded with a leaden, slack expression. “I thought…I thought…the fall.” She shook her head wanly. “Death. I thought I was going to die.”
He patted her leg comfortingly.
Suddenly she grabbed him in a fierce hug, burying her face against his shoulder. Her whole body trembled and quaked. He put his arm around her, pulling her close, and stroked her hair.
“I wouldn’t let you fall,” he whispered. “I was there.”
She shook her head against his shirt. Her face tilted up, lost in the shadows of the temple and the midnight sky. He could feel her breath hot against his cheek. “I ran out of strength,” she whispered. “It was too much for me. Not even my stubbornness was enough.” She gripped the front of his tunic. “I could have died tonight. I’m so used to being on my own. To relying only on myself. It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t strong enough.”
He didn’t know what to say. “It was you, Hettie. You did it. You conquered the mountain.”
“No, Paedrin. It was you. You carried me up the cliff. You saved me from falling. I could have died. You’ve saved me so many times. In the cave where we found the dagger. You saved me then too.” She shook her head and he could feel the hair tickle his cheek. Her shoulders trembled. “I’m so frightened, Paedrin. What if this task is too much for us? For you as well? What if the Scourgelands cannot be defeated? My father died there and he was Aboujaoude. He was better than even you. Now here we are, alone. I’m frightened. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared.”
