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Chapter 33

We walk for the rest of the day, barely speaking. Between me and Stone is an invisible barrier, one which neither of us is determined to break for the time being.
The path is steadily growing steeper and narrower. I guess that by the end of the hike, if we live long enough to get there, we'll be scrabbling vertically up rocks, a trail devoid of a path. As it is, by the end of our third day on the mountain, large groups behind us are breaking up into lines, usually three people wide. At times the path narrows down to a line so thin that one person can barely sidle along it- though at others, it's wide enough for an entire cart.
By the time the sun is setting, and dusk is driving away the day, my body, particularly my hands and bare feet, elbows and knees, are riddled with small grazes and scrapes, from all the time I've lost my footing on the path, slipped down the gravelly slope, fell of a sharp rock jutting from the mountainous walls to my right, always to my right.
When we bed down, I find myself once again looking at the clearing where it all started, now on the fourth path up. We're completing the spirals quicker, now, with the mountain's conical shape, every time around shorter and shorter. The first time round took us almost a full day- From about noon of one day, a break sometime in the night, with the snow storm, and then about half of the next day. Now, it takes us much, much less than that, albeit the path is growing sharper and more difficult.
I fall into my bed after a bland dinner of bread, a small portion of water, and a couple dried red beans with a very spicy taste, which make me wish for more water. Stone rolls onto his side, facing away from me, and I resist the temptation to move his scarf just a smidgen... No, apparently he sleeps with his swords now... And this morning, the first time somebody went to speak, he woke up alert and ready to kill... No, not a good idea.
So I roll onto my back, looking up at the stars, which I'm closer to than I've ever been, and yet they only seem further from my reach...

The next morning, I wake up and Stone is gone. I close my eyes, count to five, and then open them again. The space in front of me is empty, devoid of anything but for the rocky path of the mountain. No swords, no pack, no bed roll. No Stone.
"Stone?!" I call out in alarm, my voice quiet in the constant, whispering breeze that now blows due to my altitude. There is no answer.
"Stone!"
Wide awake with panic, I scramble from my blankets, kicking the tangled sheets from my right ankle with my other foot, but in my fear, my claws have revealed themselves, and I gouge deep, bloody lines down the inside of my right calf.
My eyes water automatically, clouding my vision, and I blink rapidly, trying to see clearly. I pull myself to my feet, my leg throbbing with dull pain, but I don't bother to even wipe the crimson pearls shimmering down my shin. Stone's gone.
"Stone! No!" I scream, freaking out. I whirl about, squinting down either end of the path, even off the edge, but a thick fog has set in, and I can only see about five feet from my own nose. Beyond that, everything is hidden by a swirling white wall.
"STONE!"
I begin to run blindly down the path, condensation gathering on my face and joining with the tears of pain, streaming in small rivulets down either side of my nose and regathering to form droplets at the end of my chin. I wipe then away, but more follow, and I only scrape a two shallow scars in my left cheek with my still-extended claws.
Cursing, I retract them, and spin around again, searching for something, anything, that will tell me he isn't gone. But there is nothing, and suddenly the tears welling on my face are not just from pain.
The boy with the swords is gone.
Unable to accept this, I continue running, running away from the truth. I can feel it's cold, clammy fingers reaching for me, scrabbling at my arms, and I smack them away, muffled sobs shaking my body now.
"Stone..." I sob. He's gone. He's left me. The kisses were never real, he never, well, loved me. He was playing me from the first moment I met him... But what had he to gain? I gave him nothing, but perhaps a good sized head-ache.
"No, no, nonononono..." I murmur repeatedly, trying to drive away everything my common sense was telling me. I feel it's presence as well, trying to hold me back, but I continue to run, my bare feet pounding painfully on the gravelly path. He's gone, really, truly, gone.
Suddenly, my left foot falls on a large round pebble, which slides out from under it, causing me to loose my footing. I land on my side, my hands scrabbling madly at the path, but only loose dirt and rocks fall away in them. My momentum carries me, until I reach the edge. And slide over it.