Ebony Wings

14

~Ali~

We hike for a couple of hours up the uneven terrain, my boots swallowed by the powdery snow. But as promised, the cave soon appears; a dark pool of compressed light staining the crisp mountain side. It wasn't until that moment that I realised I could ever feel so relieved at the sight of a dark cave.

By now, still a few hundred meters away from the cave, I am not sure whether my toes are still attached to my feet or not. My cheeks feel stiff from the cold and a sharp pain radiates steadily in my chest with each breath - from the icy wind or exertion, I don't know. But it is safe to say that I am cold, tired and hungry. All my remaining energy is leaving my body with each laboured exhalation that escapes into the fading light.

Ethan's hand holds mine again, his plastic shopping bag hung around his other wrist, tugging me up the last stretch. If I wasn't so tired, I would have giggled nervously the entire way like a school girl. But I am exhausted and instead find myself grateful for the assistance.

Snow gives way to cold rock, the cave curving up around us on all sides and expelling a chill from every crevice. The wind echoes over the arched surface but I find the deeper we walk the less the wind actually penetrates into the growing darkness. The walls narrow the further forwards we venture and I duck beneath a dip in the ceiling, a low-hanging ledge of rock narrowly missing the top of my eyebrow. At the end of the cave where the light is scarce and the mouth is a distant glow behind, the frozen stillness is welcomed.

I reach out for the hard wall and sink to the ground, drawing my knees up to my chest and gently repositioning myself over the undulating surface. I let my neck loosen and my head taps against the wall as it falls backwards, my beanie a cushion to rest upon. Jaz guides herself over to me, running her fingers across the walls as a guide. Her waterproof coat scratches against the grainy rock as she takes a seat beside me and we look around the rough, grey walls together, sharing a reciprocated look of bewilderment at how we ended up in this situation.

Ethan rustles through his plastic bag, the thin opaque material crinkling in the space between us. Four hollow thuds follow. A piece of the discarded objects splinters off and is thrown at my feet, skittering lightly across the floor. I pick up the dry bark, turning it around in my hand, watching as Ethan arranges the four logs neatly against each other much like a tepee. Jack scrunches up balls of what sounds like newspaper and stuffs them into the pyramidal gap beneath the firewood. After a few clicks trying to ignite the plastic lighter, a small, pale flame hovers in the darkness, illuminating the topography of Jack's face. Some steps away, the soft burn of the light is reflected in the glassy mirror of Ethan's eyes; two orange suns flickering in the distance. Cupping a hand around the flame, the cave walls darken as Jack guides the lighter to the kindling. Fire drips onto the paper and catches instantly, spreading and smoking, the colourful ink being eaten away.

Ethan eases onto the floor and blows life into the baby flame. The lick of fire explodes over the firewood, engulfing the kindling and climbing the dry logs. Jaz and I shuffle over and perch ourselves beside the warming stone close to the fire. My hands grope the air, seeking the leaking warmth as it warbles through the air, letting my gloves drop in my lap so the naked heat can shimmer over my skin.

As if by magic, Jack presents a small offering of slightly hardened bread rolls, string cheese and apples. I waste no time in pulling apart my offering, taking special care to meticulously peel my cheese stick. Slowly throughout the meal I shed my layers until I am sitting with two coats and a jumper strewn behind me, cooling off in the shadows.

When the next bite of my apple will be the seeded core, I know I have finally come to the end of my rations, mostly satisfied. I push up the sleeves of my jumper and unlace my boots, kicking them away from me somewhere into the darkness. Three heat-tinted and sleep weary faces stare back at me and it is in this silence that we wordlessly agree on rest.

Ethan rises and merges into the night as he stalks towards the starry air outside. Jaz curls up into a tight ball on the floor, a bunched up fleece tucked beneath her head and her coat draped over her body. Jack stretches himself out beside her, close enough that the heat from his body protects the side of her shaded from the fire. I turn my head to the outside, searching the gloom for Ethan's outline. His dark shadow is leaning against the cave opening, his head tilting as he scans the landscape.

When he doesn't move I resign myself to sleep and lie backwards, gathering my discarded killers and balling it up into a pillow of sorts. I close my eyes and listen to the movements of the flames, letting the heat seep deep into my aching muscles.

Jack shuffles and I watch his distorted form waver through the flames as he sits upright. "Damn it, Ethan, get some sleep you paranoid moron!"

"I just don't want any surprises tonight," his voice echoes back, cool and distant on the air.

"You want to keep the girls safe? Then make sure Ali doesn't freeze to death tonight when the fire burns out," he retorts and slumps back down begin Jaz. Without moving from my position on the ground, I flicker my eyes in Ethan's direction and see he is no longer propped against the stone wall. For the first time, I hear his footsteps approaching; a rock brushed to the side with his boot, the scrape of his sole on the floor.

He drops to the floor behind me, spreading out in a similar manner to the way Jack has curved around Jaz. But unlike Jack, one arm slips under my neck and the other is draped over my waist, curling me in close, his skin hot through my clothes.

I try to ignore the fact that my body feels aflame by no cause of the fire pit and try to close my eyes as if this could shut out any ungodly thoughts or feelings and welcome sleep instead. This is proven increasingly difficult as his fingers brush away the hair around my neck, letting the warm air wash over its place. His other hand rubs minute circles over my stomach, so small and light that I barely register his touch through my clothes.

"Sleep well, Princess," he whispers in my ear, adding that last diminutive byname without even thinking I don't think, and for a moment it sounds like he is going to say more. He sighs instead and lets his eyes close. Only now do I allow myself to regain breath.