Ollie MacQuoid and the Journey To Rubius

Chapter Nineteen

Somehow, they were still walking. That in itself was a miracle. The only reason Ollie was still moving was because his muscles seemed unable to stop putting one foot in front of the other. Keeping himself upright felt like trying to walk on a sewing thread. But he kept on. One step after the other.

The Emeridian Mountain, alight in the sunset's purple glow, felt like a mockery. It taunted him, forced his weary body closer when he needed to do nothing more than stop. He was almost past the point of caring if he was able to rise again. His friends were on their last legs as well. Alaudidae, who bore the unfortunate fate of being so naturally willowy, stalked awkwardly on his thin legs through the ever-deepening snow, clutching a little Clementine to his chest, his wings no longer a natural extension of his body but a cumbersome weight on his back that threatened to topple him over at any moment. The only reason Calladin still carried Elora was because he had no other choice, and the hours of her on his back had worn him down to the bone. Elora herself had fallen back into the dreamless sleep that had nearly killed her hours before, and she rested eerily corpse-like against her brother's shoulder, her face framed by the ice that had grown on her eyelashes and flyaway hairs. Ollie felt jealous of her. He was not ready to admit why.

What would happen when one of them dropped? It was bound to happen soon. They hadn't eaten in days, and Ollie would rather die of thirst than eat snow again. It wouldn't take long for the cold to take one of them, either. Who would succumb first? They were all in such awful states that their fates were fair game. What frightened Ollie the most, however, was not who collapsed first, but what they would do when it happened. Would they leave their body behind, left to freeze and be eaten by animals, or would they all lay down and die together?

Ollie's face was bleeding again. He'd suffered another one of those awful attacks in the hours that had passed, and it had caused his nose to start gushing again. Would it be possible for him to completely bleed out? The thought put a pit in Ollie's stomach. He looked down at his feet, watching his nose drip onto the snow that crunched beneath his numb feet. He wanted to stop. Gods, he wanted to stop. The emptiness of his mind and body spared him from none of the agonies the cold and hunger and fear brought his feeble form. He wanted to sleep, and eat, and feel for at least one moment that things were going to be okay. That was all he wanted. That was all he had ever wanted.

Over Alaudidae's shoulder, Clementine's black eyes watched Ollie warily. She had not gone near him since he had nullified. Ollie craved her comfort more than ever, and the heartbreak he got from her fear felt like it could break bones. Ollie absentmindedly rolled his wrist, feeling the bones of his arm shift and pop with a dull ache. He pressed his fingers on the spot below his elbow, still warm, where a bump on the bone began to bruise under the weight. While his arm was no longer broken, it had not mended right, and he was unable to straighten it without feeling his muscles tighten over the unnatural lump of crooked bone. Bone. He'd fused his own bones back together.

The emptiness inside him yearned for that power again. Ollie pushed the thought to the back of his mind, unwilling to risk bringing on another one of those attacks by thinking of his magic too much. He wasn't sure if he could survive another one. He wasn't sure if he would want to, either.

Though the effort of speeding up his steady pace was immense, Ollie moved to the front of the group and tugged on Calladin's sleeve. Calladin jumped, his heavy breath hitching in his throat. His hands, red at the knuckles, balled instinctively. "What?" He breathed gruffly. Ollie tugged on Calladin's sleeve again, forcing him to stop. Using his finger as a marker, Ollie bent down and traced four words into the snow.

Tell me about Rubius.

A simple order, but Calladin's face blanched all the same. "Not now," He murmured, and began walking again. Ollie rejoined him at his side and smacked his arm lightly, though Calladin's face remained stubbornly forward. Breathing a huff through his nose, Ollie reached up and flicked Calladin's cheek. Immediately, Calladin turned his face to him, his eyes hard and angry. Had his arms not been occupied keeping his sister on his back, Ollie was sure he would have smacked him. But at the sight of Ollie's desperate face, Calladin's expression fell into disgruntled resignation. "Fine."