Ollie MacQuoid and the Journey To Rubius

Chapter Twenty

He was stupid. He was so incredibly stupid.

And yet he pushed on.

The sun was setting, casting an orange glow on the mountain's surface. Ollie could see the mountain clearer now; the small clouds that drifted around it, the shadowy lumps on the uneven, snowy terrain. It was massive up close. How big is Rubius? He wondered. He grasped Calladin's knife harder, willing himself forward. He hadn't stopped all day, even when his head swam with nausea and his muscles shook hard enough to knock him off balance. Every wasted second was a moment closer to death for his friends. Ollie would never forgive himself if he sacrificed them for nothing.

The mere thought of his friends was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Gods, he was stupid. Stupid for leaving them behind and stupid for bringing them to their deaths in the first place. And stupid for not killing myself when I had the chance and getting them out of danger, Ollie's mind hissed. He shut that thought away. Elora would have punched him if she knew how he thought about himself and Alaudidae probably would have hugged him so hard he suffocated. He had to live. If not for himself, then for his friends. At least Calladin would have died knowing that it wasn't all for nothing if Ollie managed to get to safety. I don't deserve it, his thoughts echoed in the empty space inside him. It should have been them. Everyone would be better off if I was dead. I should be the one left behind.

Ollie tripped over his own feet and collapsed, too weak to catch himself before he crumbled to the ground. Cursing inside his head, Ollie stood up and brushed the snow off his knees. A chill ran through him. Go, go, he thought frantically, You're wasting time! They could be dead by now!

He forced his legs to take a step forward but it felt as if there were weights tied to his ankles. He braced his hands on his knees and trudged forward until he had enough momentum to stay upright. But his pace had slowed considerably, which only served to make him jittery with nervous energy. Don't exhaust yourself, he forced himself to think. Slow and steady. Slow and steady.

The clouds above him were low in the sky, a bright mix of purple and orange that left an odd ache in his heart. Beautiful as they were, Ollie couldn't help but notice a dark shadow flicker its way through them, though it disappeared so quickly he couldn't tell if it was simply a trick of the light. Fighting the growing anxiety in his gut, Ollie tightened his grip on Calladin's knife, if not only just to remind himself that he still had it. How far it would go to actually help him was debatable. But it was better than nothing.

"Hungry?"

Collie fixed the strap of his fisherman's overalls and kicked at the snow they trudged through. A purple spark flickered on the end of his tongue. "I sure am. My hands have never been so stiff in my life. How has such a scrawny little one like you made it so far?"

"I don't want you here," said Ollie. "You're gross. Go away."

"You'd rather be all alone out here than hang out with little old me? You've got a mean tongue, Oliver. It's quite endearing."

Collie's arms were bare, and his hair had returned to its natural fiery shade of red. He took a deep breath and sighed contentedly. "You really think hiding in a mountain is going to keep your old man from finding you? Don't be stupid. That's a death wish."

"It's better than going back. I'm never going back."

"Back to what? Back to a life that would have given you everything you ever wanted? Back to a life that would have floated you up to the top of the world where you belong? People would kill to have what you threw away." He smacked Ollie on the back of the head and left a burning chill up his spine. "Drop that heroic bullshit. You're nothing but a selfish brat."