Every Glistening Night

Chapter Nine

I could kick myself for not being more careful. I'd been so focused on following the light's glimmer that I hadn't considered what would lead me back to the stream. My ears crane for the sound of rushing water, but only rustling leaves rush in my ears. A breeze sweeps through the air, fingering my short hair and sending a chill down my spine. The night seems so much more oppressive now that I realize how lost I am.

Focus, Celisae. I can't just wallow in my predicament. I have to act. Slowly, I turn around, surveying the different routes away from the light. Each gap in the trees represents a different path to take. After a minute, I give up on figuring my way out through logic and just head in the direction I think I came from.

I meander around trees and bushes, though sometimes I walk into them. My feet snag on roots or low growing plants too dark to notice. Most of the time, I only stumble a few paces, quickly regaining my balance.

After several minutes, I hear a crackle behind me. My pace quickens, as does my pulse. Please, not another delay! A shuffling tears through the undergrowth, away from me. I exhale a sigh of relief, but I'm still on edge, listening for the slightest noise around me.

My foot catches on a particularly large root, one that causes my entire foot to slide beneath it so that my ankle touches wood. I fall forward, my wrists sinking into dirt and leaves to stop the motion before my face smacks the ground. Pain shoots through them. I twist onto my side, rubbing at the joints at the base of my hands. At least I didn't fall backward and smash my raeriel.

The initial pain wears away quickly. I test my wrists' injuries, letting them drop forward and backward. Only a tinge of soreness remains, but nothing that will impede my playing. My worry wears away, and I start back on the trail.

The change in the light is almost imperceptible at first. The sun awakens little by little, casting another spark of light on the ground each second. It's so gradual that I don't notice the night draining away the forest is painted in a light charcoal hue. The leaves hold more definition now as does the undergrowth.

Suns! It's almost dawn!

I force myself into a run, now that I can see better. Desperation wells inside me as I tear by tree after tree. The mountainside isn't in sight, no river in earshot.

I can't get lost out here. I have to be back before the tribe wakes up.

The longer I run, the more unlikely it seems that I'll find a way out. Though I can see more variation in vegetation, it's of no use to me. Tears prick my eyes, emotion choking my throat. I push even harder, channeling all my fears into the race against sunrise.

My lungs burn for air, but I can't stop. My limbs are in a constant, pumping motion, feet pummeling the ground one after another, arms propelling me forward.

Left-right, left-right, left-right.

If I slow myself even for a moment, I won't be able to continue. Running is the only thing gluing the splintering pieces of myself together. The moment I stop is the moment I'll fall apart.

Wind gushes in my ears, and my intense concentration on the forest landscape drowns out all other noises. I barely consider the animals that may stalk the forests, especially the ones that enjoy chasing their prey. After a while, though, when I can tangibly feel the darkness draining away, a new sound flows into my ears. Its fluidity slinks up to me like a cat on the prowl. Before I realize it, I'm dashing straight toward a creek rippling through the forest.

I pivot my direction so I run beside the water. Then, I start in the opposite direction from it, making a perpendicular line from it to where I entered the forest. In the distance, the trees open up to an open landscape. The first thin rays of dawn pierce the clearing. There's a chance I'll make it back before I'm missed.