A Deadly Bite

20 || What You Want

I've spent such a large proportion of my time out in the world within the grasp of these mountains that it feels somewhat right to be fully embraced within their midst once more. They are bruised, battered hands that cradle me in the cup of an uneven palm, their rocky protrusions the ridges of scars far more natural than my own, their faces gnarled and weather-beaten. My mind wanders to Ligari's home, buried deep within them; to Katamen at the base of a slope far away; to the bushland paths that I trod with Fiesi, in a time when flame still spilled freely from my skin and my goal was a trap rather than a release.

Each memory is tainted in its own way, whether by the rusty scent of regret or blood or the sourness of betrayal, yet a smile rises to my lips regardless. So much happened here, for good or bad. Sometimes it's a little pleasant to think of the tale I might tell someday, when I've strung together its end and learned to recount stories as well as Sarielle. Although it might fit my voice better. Mine would be a dark tale, darker than I would wish to be painted by the beauty of her words.

At my sides, my fists curl. I need to survive long enough to tell it first.

"You must be thinking some very deep thoughts."

Snapped abruptly from my own head, I twist around towards Edita's voice. Before I can catch hold of the sight of her face, my left foot skids too fast ahead of me, riding a tide of loose stones back down the incline we ascend, and I lose my balance. The mountains tip. The air jolts from my lungs as my back hits the ground, wrenching away my yelp.

She comes to a slow halt beside me, peering down with a frown carved into her features. It soon lifts with her laugh. "That must be the twentieth time you have tripped this afternoon."

I draw my brows down to glower at her. "You keep startling me." My gaze slips to the side, and in doing so, my attention lands upon our setting once again. Our elevation allows an expansive view of the mountains ahead, despite the dense fog clinging to the valley below. Ice and frost clambers up the mountainsides in lazy, winding patterns that resemble rivers, swallowed higher up by glistening sheets of snow. Tiny bubbles of delight pop in my stomach, floating upwards until I feel strangely giddy. I'm grinning when I turn back to Edita. "Perhaps I enjoy life a little more down here."

She hums doubtfully. "You best hope you can crawl faster than you walk, then." Her pale hand stretches out in offering.

I take it, letting her pull me to my feet. The ground's slant forces me to curl my toes in some vain attempt to keep myself steady. "That might well be true," I admit, examining the path ahead. It's getting steeper. In our effort to avoid the main mountain path -- a method to both dodge any of Harlow's chasing soldiers and the possibility of friends that might drag me from this risk-fuelled opportunity -- we've had to spend much of the day climbing a track not worn down by the frequent tread of boots, and my weakened muscles are hardly devoid of protests. It's becoming more difficult to ignore the ache in my calves or the dirty scratches accumulating on the soles of my feet.

Still, I square my shoulders, dig for the steady stream of determination driving me onward, and press on. My heavy exhale plumes out as mist. The breath after it carries an icy bite that nips at my lungs. My gaze trails to the sky, acknowledging the fading light. The sun must be hidden behind a mountaintop. I've only caught faint glimpses of tonight's orange-stained sunset.

A pang echoes hollowly through my chest. Sarielle would be disappointed.

A shiver cuts the thought short, the wind raking over the exposed section of my arms and seeping in waves through the thin barrier of my tunic. Edita seizes my wrist. "This might be a fitting moment to stop for the night."

I'm shaking my head before I've even thought about it, tugging on her grip as I stumble over the lip of a ledge. "I can keep going. I'm fine."

"You must be a practised liar for the ease you speak that particular one." She yanks back, jerking me to a stop. I glance back to catch her fanged smile. "We have made good progress. I think we are both due a rest."