The Seventh Stone

Chapter Seventeen

Wow.

I didn't even know this place existed—and maybe I'm not the only one, since there's no one else up here.

The glass elevator brought us to the highest level of the tree, to a grandiose platform built amidst the topmost branches. It's high enough for pockets of mist and fog to pass both through the branches over our heads, and against the dark, gleaming surfaces around us—which stretch across a considerable length, and rise upward on the sides in two demi-circles that are lined with faint, glimmering lamps along the edges.

The rest of it is empty—dark and empty—save for one, simple bench at each of the far ends, set just before the railings. And beyond the railings—even from the center of the platform, I can see the view is breathtaking. Loki had provided me with a cloak on our way up, but it does nothing against the bone-deep chill that permeates my skin as we tread closer to the edge—heels clicking and echoing loudly against the walls.

A gentle ray of moonlight pours over my face as I lay a hand on the icy, metal railing, and a heavy breeze lifts the hair off my frontside as I lean over it—looking down at the multitude of small twinkling lights below. From this high up, they're just the tiniest sparks of life. Even the roots, and bright, glowing veins of the neighboring trees are small from here.

I grasp the metal tightly, feeling its corners press against my hand. "When did you manage to find this place?" I whisper breathlessly to Loki.

"I had time," he responds.

I tear my eyes away from the ground below, turning toward him as he strides over with his hands behind his back—heading slightly to the side, where he can see the view over my shoulder.

I lower my chin, turning to lean against the railing. "Well done," I grin.

Moments go by as we admire the scenery in silence, while the nighttime breeze continues to blow strands of hair out of our faces intermittently.

I couldn't begin to remember the last time I experienced this type of peace. Amidst the whirling madness, somehow I've managed to find a stagnant space.

Well—I didn't find it. Loki did. And then he showed me.

My hands are pale and cold as I push against the railing, standing up straight to turn back toward him, and his eyes jump to meet mine without any other movement.

"You didn't leave," I say.

His eyes sink back down to the view.

"Why didn't you?" I ask, peering at his blank expression.

Thoughts flicker across his eyes for a moment, until he finally looks up at me defeatedly. "A most unfortunate reason, really," he says in a low voice, striding over to the railing beside me, to lean against it. "It seems you've grown quite dear to me, and..." he pauses. "The idea of leaving you without protection was nauseating."

A grin tugs on the corner of my mouth as I turn, leaning against the railing along with him, and leaving just a foot of space between us. "You think I need it?"

"I suppose not," he shakes his head. "But I'm not very good at this."

"At what?" I tilt my head against the breeze.

Loki presses his lips together. "Navigating these... things."

"Yeah," I pause. "I figured that, when you called me an encumbering nuisance."

Loki blinks his eyes regretfully, before turning toward me sullenly. "I didn't mean that."

"No, you did," I nod, and a brows rises with his widened eyes. "But it's alright. If it's just who you are—words don't matter to me anyway."