Dreamscape: Saving Alex (29 page)

“Arrow?” I
whispered, afraid to awaken the creatures. Rattles surrounded me, quicker and
closer the longer I waited. Something cupped my left shoulder, and a stab of
ice burned down my arm.

“Arrow?” My voice
creaked as I stumbled to my feet and ran. Another hand grabbed me.

Disoriented, I
stumbled forward, not knowing which direction I was going or even if I was
staying on the path. I wavered back and forth, avoiding each disembodied
rattle. I never
knew
white could
be
so dark.
Lurching
over hidden branches and rocks, I fell to the ground and silently screamed.

The chill radiated
from my shoulder down to my fingertips and over to my face until my chattering
teeth bit my tongue. Had that brief contact been enough to turn me into one of
them?

Tears froze on my
cheeks as I sat on the ground, arms wrapped around my knees, rocking back and
forth, dreading the transformation. New faces popped in and out of the mist,
ghoulish visions, malnourished and maimed. What
would
Arrow or the rebellion do if their hero was cursed in
the shadows?

I didn’t want to
believe I had failed, but as the cold spread, my doubts grew. Suddenly, another
hand—a warm hand—grabbed my shoulder. Warmth. I saw the concern in Arrow’s
eyes.

“I’m fine, I’m
fine,” I said, grabbing his hand to stand up, willing the tears to stop, though
the redness around my eyes was proof enough.

“You’re cold,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Whatever you do, d
on’t let go. We have to get
you in front of a fire.” His hand grabbed mine as he pulled me forward into the
white shadows. “Put these in your ears.”

“A roll?” I watched
as he broke the roll apart and used the soft insides to create small balls,
pressing them into his ears.

I followed his
example and was amazed at how much it helped. The wind’s deep moans were
dulled, as were the shadow creature’s rattles. I wished he had a way to fix the
ice building in my bones. We walked the rest of the way in silence, until the
shadows lightened and I fell to the ground, coughing up blood.

Arrow helped me up, his gaze lingering on the
splattered blood behind me.

“I think we can rest here. We’re not quite out of
the shadows yet, but we should be far enough out of the main canyon to rest.
What happened?” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and leaned in to hear my
trembling voice.

“I’m not sure,” I said, trying hard to keep the
tears from falling. The concern in his eyes didn’t help. “One minute, I was
right behind you, and the next, you were gone.”

“Shhh… it’s going to be all right. I’m here now.”
He tightened his arms around me and rocked gently back and forth. “You’re so
cold and pale. Did you see them?”

I nodded, wishing the mention of them didn’t
invite them back into my mind. Horror like that was hard to forget.

He stopped rocking and looked at me. “Did they
touch you?”

The tears I’d held back flowed, freed from the
control I’d tried to exercise over them. “One did,” I whispered, biting my lip.

Arrow let go of me and ran to where he had secured
the horses, grabbing something from the bag before rushing back to my side.

“Do you think I’ve been cursed?” I asked,
trembling, putting my biggest fear into words.

“I’m not sure,” he said calmly, but his hands
shook as they worked to untangle the package of vines. “If you were cursed, I
think there’d be more blood, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Arrow, I’m scared,” I said, covering the vines
with a hand as he tightened them.

He gave me a sad smile. “I know. Try not to think
about it. We should be safe now. Let’s just let the vines do their thing and
make sure you’re not too hurt before we continue.” He handed me another roll.
“You wanted to take the shortcut,” he said.

“Probably the last I’ll ever take again,” I
mumbled. I held up the roll. “Did you pack a whole bag of these?”

“You’re joking—that’s a good sign,” he said. “And
as a matter of fact, yes, I did. Right after I change those vines, I’m going to
find some wood.”

“No!” I yelled. I covered my mouth.

Our eyes darted around us, watching the burgeoning
fog, waiting for a rattle, but nothing came. He dropped to my side and crossed
the vines over my shoulder.

“You can’t leave me,” I whispered, reaching out
with frozen fingertips.

“You need a fire,” he said. “Just relax. I won’t
go far, but there’s no wood on the trail. Try to relax, and warm yourself up in
my cloak.
”

“But you’ll need
it.”

“Right now you need
it more. We’ve made it this far, and we’ll make it the rest of the way when
you’re
feeling
up to it.”

“How will you find
me?” I asked, looking at the white mist rising around us.

“Hey. Don’t worry,”
he said, his voice softening as he pulled me close. “I’ll always find you.”

I watched him
disappear into the mist, and the spot where I caught my last glimpse of him
became my sole focus. My chest burned as I held my breath for his return.
Silence. With my tongue, I traced the gouges I’d made in my cheek. I needed a
new nervous habit. My nails weren’t long enough to bite, so I settled for
ripping the bread to shreds before eating it. I took small bites, noticing the
metallic taste
slowly
disappear, but the
tenderness inside my mouth remained.

What
would
happen if he didn’t come back? The thought of being
cursed in the shadows took away my breath. I couldn’t
think
that way. Arrow
would
be back; he had to be back. He promised.

When his head broke
back through the fog’s veil, I
almost
screamed, tasting the blood fill my mouth again. His face had paled, and his
lips were colorless. I jumped up and ran to him, wrapping my arms around his
neck.

“Did they get you?
You’re so cold.”

“N-not cursed.
Jus-st c-c-old,” he stuttered. A few of the logs fell out of his arms, and he
let the rest go as he wrapped his hands around my waist. I tucked my face into
the crook of his neck and breathed a sigh of relief. I felt the chill from his
hands through my shirt.

“Let’s get that
fire going,” I said, picking up the wood and creating a cabin of logs near
where I had sat.

We both needed the fire. Once I finished stacking
the wood, he started the fire by slamming two luminance rocks together. A small
flame blossomed from the spark, eating its way along the larger logs. The
flames entwined and danced, captivating me. Through the fire, I caught Arrow
staring.

He moved to my side. My face flushed as he looked
at me. I hoped he didn’t notice. I could blame that on the heat of the fire.
But I had no way to explain the way I trembled.

Luckily, I didn’t have to. Arrow took my hands in
his, warming them with his breath.

Prickles of
pleasure shot down my leg where the outsides of our thighs met. I settled into
the warmth of his arms and listened to the calming beat of his heart next to
mine. We watched the fire until no more embers popped and the last coal turned
dark.

I looked up at him
and tucked my lips together. He matched my gaze. Neither one of us wanted to be
the one to speak up.

“It’s time,” I said,
clasping my hand in his and pulling him up. “I want to get out of these shadows
for good.”

“You do
know
where we’re going, right?”

I shot him a
look
. Of course I did. “Yes but at least there I can’t be
cursed to live in shadows.”

“No,” he said,
shaking his head. “If we fail, we’ll only die.”

I grabbed the reins
to my horse and climbed on.

“I’m right behind
you.”

Once the fog
lifted, I realized that the mountain trail was lengthier than I’d
thought
. Shadow Alley was only the midpoint in a serrated mountain
range. Snow-covered cliffs and valleys dominated the horizon. Our journey
wasn’t over yet.

“Don’t stop here,”
Arrow said, passing me. “We still have a long way to go, and it’ll be safer
once we crest these next few ridges. Let’s put this canyon far behind us.” He
kicked his horse.

I followed suit,
content to ride behind him.

The next several days merged together, ridges and
mountains blending into one another. Despite my reluctance for time to pass, I
threw myself into each moment, recognizing it for what it was. A gift. We rode
in quiet contemplation of our surroundings, watching the terrain change as
Arrow had predicted.

The steep cliffs softened into wider paths and
easier turns. Clumps of heavy snow fell from the trees, the sun’s warmth melting
the fragile flakes. The magic I felt in the mountains wore off as we began our
descent.

After a week of conquering the treacherous terrain
and my own feelings, I realized how much I had lost by hiding behind fear. It
stole something irreplaceable: time. I had wasted too much of it, wallowing in
my own insecurities, and if I had only shed that crutch earlier, Arrow and I
would’ve had more time together. Shielding myself from an imaginary pain hadn’t
made me stronger.

What I would’ve given to hit restart, to have
known this from the beginning…but I couldn’t. All I could do was cherish every
moment left in our adventure.

“So what can you tell me about these woods? I know
you haven’t been here, but are there ghost stories or—” I stopped and pressed
my shoulder blades together as clumps of snow fell down my back.

I looked up at the pristine trees and spun to see
Arrow, eyes wide and hands raised in exaggerated fashion. I jumped off the
horse and knelt to make a snowball from the pile gathered by the base of the nearest
tree.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Or you’ll what?” I asked, taunting him by tossing
the snow between my hands.

“Or this,” he said, sweeping in and throwing me
over his shoulder. The snowball fell, but I slapped his back with my frozen
hands until he dropped me.

“Ouch!” I protested, but I couldn’t keep from
giggling as he rolled to my side and brushed flakes of snow off my cloak.

“Ah, you’re tougher than that,” he said.

“Trickier too,” I said, pummeling him with
handfuls of snow and skittering out of reach.

Arrow chuckled and fell back onto his knees. “I
give up—I’m at your mercy.”

I peeked from behind a tree and squinted. It was
almost too easy a shot, but I took it anyways.

He fell back as the last snowball hit him square
in the chest. “You win, Goldy, you win.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear you say,” I said,
tromping back to his side.

“It’s good to hear you laugh again,” he said.

“It felt good.” I leaned my head on his shoulder.
He knew exactly what I needed.

Arrow cocked his head to the side and covered his lips
with a finger for silence. “Do you hear that?”

“What? Is it your heart shattering from losing?”

“No,” he said, smiling. “I think our luck has
turned.” He jumped up and crept to the nearest tree, peering up through its
branches.

“What do you mean?” I asked, listening for sudden
movement or an indication of what had alerted him, but I heard nothing.

“I think it’s time for something new for dinner.”
He unhooked the pack on his right side and pulled out a quiver of arrows and a
bow.

“Don’t joke with me about that,” I said, unable to
hide the excitement in my voice.

“I wouldn’t dare. Look at these tracks,” he said,
pointing to triangular puncture holes in the snow. “Snowbirds, I believe.”

“Snowbirds? I haven’t seen any—what do they look
like?” I asked, picturing the species I had seen here.

“Well, they’re hard to see,” he said. “Their white
feathers blend into the snow almost perfectly, and they’re stealthy, making
little sound as they bound through the brush and trees. But their meat…it’s
worth the effort of catching them. They’re a delicacy, and will be the perfect
way to end our journey.”

My words caught in my throat. I hadn’t realized
our time together had dwindled so quickly, or that we were so close to Berkos’
castle. It didn’t feel like nearly enough time. My stomach growled. The idea of
fresh, warm meat moistened my mouth and sent tingles along my tongue.

“I’ll take that as agreement.” He smiled and tied
our horses to the nearest tree. “If you want to hunt in the trees, I can search
among the brush.

The thought of climbing exhilarated me, and I
untethered a bow and quiver of arrows from the side of my horse. I balanced
atop the saddle and reached for the nearest branch, pulling a pile of snow down
on top of me.

“You look just like a snowbird,” Arrow said,
jumping down from his horse and tethering it to the nearest tree.

“Let’s hope that helps. How will I find one?” I
asked, shaking the snow off my arms and climbing onto the first branch.

“Hmmm…I’m not sure exactly. Look in the clumps of
snow. They use them for camouflage.”

I looked up and saw snow falling from the branches
above me. Squinting, I saw something shimmer and jump forward, disappearing
into the higher branches.

“I got this one,” I said, balancing on the saddle
again and climbing onto the closest tree limb. Scampering up the tree, I chased
the bird through the maze of variegated branches. The nimble bird jumped along
at high speeds, knocking bumps of snow down behind it, then stopped at the
edge. His head, crowned in a thick bush of white and pearlescent feathers,
bobbed from side to side in deliberation.

I pulled an arrow out, centered my aim, and
released. The air whooshed, but I missed. The bird didn’t waste any more time
and jumped forward to the next tree, knocking down more pristine tufts of snow.

I kept my sight trained on the bobbing creature,
lest it disappear within the trees. The slight branches would not hold my
weight, so I climbed higher to a sturdier limb. I smiled as the flakes
glittered, suspended, before succumbing to gravity. They settled slowly,
dropping by my horse, no more than a small dot below me. A wave of
disorientation hit me as I looked between the horse and the bird. I couldn’t go
much further without risking my safety.

The snowbird perched at the edge of the branch,
mocking me with its still pose. Its head fluttered as I drew a new arrow. I
inhaled, pulling back and aiming for its chest, and released the bowstring.

The arrow wobbled, spearing through tufts of snow
and landing with a solid thud. I jumped with excitement. Snow inundated me,
slipping between my cloak and tunic. I shook off the chill and bounded down to
retrieve my spoils.

Surprise and disappointment hit me when the bird
fluttered off the edge, dropping a lump of snow with it. What had I hit? And
what sparkled back at me? I stared at the edge of the branch, waiting for a
flutter of opalescent feathers, but nothing moved. Inching closer, I clutched
the branches above me, careful as they bowed with my weight. A brief reminder
of how high I had climbed flashed in my mind. I weighed the risk of falling
against the draw of whatever glistened at the edge of the branch and cautiously
stepped forward.

Could it be, here, in the middle of the forest? I
reached forward and brushed off a small pile of snow from atop an engraved box.
Carvings marked all its sides, equally as impressive as the others I had
already found. Golden paint twisted around silver stems, and etchings of
circles and starbursts covered the front where the golden latch glittered. My
fingers rested on the small handle as I pondered what was inside. And then I
let it go—it had a destination beyond my needs.