Every Glistening Night

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ixek walks down the mountainside, disappearing on the path we just came from. I stand and take a few steps to follow him. After a moment, he returns, dragging a long, skinny tree behind him.

"This is the only way I can think to get over the canyon."

My brow furrows. "It's not wide enough to form a bridge."

"You're going to use it to vault over there." I stare at him. At first, I wonder if I heard him right. But he hands me the tree branch and begins a crash lesson in vaulting. "Hold the branch like this, straight in front of you."

My fingers curl at the base of the tree, digging into the bark. I hold it vertically in front of me. It wobbles at the top since it's so tall.

"Try to keep it steady," Ixek says. "Especially when you plant it in the ground. What you're going to do is run, plant the stick in the ground, then let go once you're in the air. Practice a few times."

My eyes widen. "Practice?" I glance around, wondering where he's planning on having me vault to.

"I mean, the running and planting part. Just be careful that you don't accidentally run off the cliff." He tries to add a hint of a joke into his tone, but it does little to lighten the mood.

Holding the tree upright, I practice running a few times and sticking the trunk into the ground. Somehow, my speed picks up each time, so on my fourth try, I have to skid to a halt to keep from falling over. Rocks clink as they fall down the precipice.

"Think you got the hang of it?" Ixek asks.

I don't, not in the slightest. But it'd probably take at least ten moons for me to feel comfortable with vaulting. Might as well get this done sooner rather than later. I'm about to get in position when a thought stops me.

"Wait, how am I going to get back? I'm not sure if I can find another tree branch like this."

Ixek squints at the other side of the canyon. "There is a forest there. You can hunt through it for one that works."

"But what if—"

"I'm not the one demanding to go over there," Ixek says with an edge. "I told you it's a bad idea, and I stand by it."

I take a deep breath. Is this worth it if I can't get back?

A small voice tells me, yes.

My hand tightens on the tree. "We'll figure something out. Maybe you can run back to camp for some rope."

Ixek arches an eyebrow. "I doubt we have rope long enough to reach you over there. And if we do, then maybe we should wait."

"We can't wait," I say. "The starlight could dissolve at any moment. Besides, how can we secure the rope with no one on the other side of the canyon? This is the only way."

Ixek raises his hands in surrender. I walk back several paces. My head swims for a second, and I wait for it to clear, for my focus to sharpen. A deep breath fills my lungs. I dash toward the cliff with all the speed I can pump into my legs. I plant the tree in the ground, and I fly into the air, releasing the branch.

For a second, I feel light, like I'm soaring. My body flips upside down, rushing blood to my head. Nausea swirls in my stomach. And then I fall. I plummet toward the ground, upright now. Terror and regret storm through me all at once. This is a terrible idea. I should've never done this.

I'm going to die.

I'm headed straight for the side of the cliff, just shy of landing on the snowy grass. My arms spread wide in an effort to slow my fall. As the rock brushes past, I grab the cliff's edge. My body slams into stone. The breath knocks from my lungs, and pain ricochets through my bones. But I don't release my grip. I grit my teeth, waiting for the dizziness and shock to wear off.

Slowly, I reach one leg over the cliffside, then leverage it to pull myself up. My bag still hangs heavy on my shoulders, so that's a good sign. It means that my raeriel didn't drop into the abyss. I reach into my bag and sure enough, the familiar feel of its wood greets me.

I'm too tired to stand up, so I just turn around in the snow to face the starlight. My breath catches in my throat at the billowing rays of color that slowly swirl in the air. It's so much more magnificent up close than from afar. The light's pigmentation is so intricate, like each one is a different hue, from indigo to aqua, coral to rose, lavender to plum. I almost don't want to disturb the beautiful display.

I'm so sorry, I think as I slip my raeriel under my neck. Before I can have any second thoughts, any regrets, I lay my bow on the string and start a mournful plea. The song rises through the air, the notes teetering on the edge of a sorrowful precipice. The tune threatens to descend into madness, into notes that have no place being strung together. But somehow, the piece remains coherent, albeit a bit strange.

My bow skates over the strings as my hand works its way up the instrument. The sound grows fainter, more tinny. A color vortex rotates only paces away, stirring up snowflakes from the earth. It slows as my bow draws out the notes. Each stroke lengthens until my bow rolls to a stop at the tip. A tightly coiled kaleidoscope suspends in the air. I reach for it with gentle fingers and place it inside its wooden resting place.

I want to collapse with relief and exhaustion. It's a significant portion of starlight, enough to make a good portion of the last robe. It's not enough to finish, though. I try to ignore that fact as I scour the nearby forest for a fallen tree. No use in spoiling tonight's success.

Somehow, I manage to find a tree that looks similar to the one I used earlier. I drag it into the open, taking frequent breaks. My muscles feel limp with fatigue, but I have to keep pushing myself. I must return to the tribe before dawn.

I close my eyes for a few seconds. Ah, sleep. If only I could sink into it, instead of grasping for stray bits of it. I use the momentary break to catch my breath, steady myself, leach a little more energy into my limbs. My eyes open, focusing on the edge of the cliff, on the tiny figure of Ixek waiting for me on the other side. Then, I dash toward the edge. Wind rushes through my cropped hair, the coolness helping to wake me a tad more. I thrust the tree against a rock, and once again, I'm airborne, flying toward the other side.

As I rotate to upright, my eyes latch onto the cliff. I'm nowhere near close enough to it. Already, I feel myself descending into the darkness. The cliff passes by, and I keep falling down, down...

A tree appears in front of me. I grab it, my body bouncing against it. I gasp, and my shoulder strap loosens on my left arm. A wave of panic shoots through me, but I don't dare release the tree in front of me.

I start to rise in the air. When I look up, I see that the end of the tree is disappearing over the cliff. The initially faint grunts grow louder the higher I go, until eventually, I reach solid ground. I collapse on the snow, my heart hammering in my chest. Ixek drops the end of the tree, panting. He plops down beside me.

"That was a close one," he says. "Way, way too close."

"But we got the starlight." I force myself to meet his gaze, to hold it and not waver. "That's what matters."