Falling Skyward

Chapter Eighteen: The Limits of Love

Emmeline squeezed Lana so tightly, she was afraid the hard cakes in her pack would get squashed into chalk. But Lana didn't resist; she just squeezed back, embracing the moment and memory. "Are you sure you will be fine here by yourself?" Lana asked, knowing the answer but fretting all the same.

"Ah, that's sweet dear, but I'll be more than fine. I've been doing it these last five years. Besides, I'm a headstrong woman, and I get along well when I always get my way and have no one to please but myself." Lana laughed, feeling the truth behind the teasing. She was coming to realize that the more people she added to her life, the messier it became. But, mess or no, it dulled the loneliness, rounded out the jagged edges, and balanced the pain.

Stooping down, Taren hugged Emmeline, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Now you take care of this girl, you hear me?" she said to him, attempting to flatten the cowlick at the back of his head that always caused her consternation. "And be sure to take care of yourself. Just because you're on the road, it doesn't mean you can be careless or fall into any of your bad manners."

The left side of Taren's mouth curved up ruefully as he slung his hefty pack over his shoulder. "I'll be good, Ma. You be sure to do the same." And with one final hug, he turned toward Lana and the narrow, cobbled road. "Ready?"

Lana nodded, exhibiting more confidence than she felt. When Taren initially volunteered to come with Lana, she only half-heartedly protested. She knew she couldn't ask that of him—knew he had his own life, future, and demons to face. But she also knew without him, she would be lost. At every moment Lana floundered, feeling herself dragged beneath the frightening and limitless possibilities of this bizarre land.

Even with Taren, Lana held little room in her heart for hope.

Lana kept her eyes fixated on her dragon-hide shoes—a recent gift from Taren. The incandescent sheen of their calloused yet supple tongue and lacings provided a hypnotic distraction from the bustle in the streets. Lana feared if she looked up, she might see too many eyes she recognized and lose the will to leave altogether.

Taren guided Lana away from the forest, through the crevices that passed as streets and alleyways between the stone and leaf-thatched houses. The leaves came from mana trees, a sacred plant whose color-changing foliage budded as a starry blue veined with silver then deepened into violet and crimson before turning gold with age. The colors signified to the Askendians the soul's journey: the formation of life from the dark void of chaos, it's deepening richness through passion, and its final glorification through death into the fuller beyond.

Preserved and treated with herbs, the roofs kept the leaves' intensely rich colors, each hue and thatching reminding people of who they are, where they came from, and what destiny awaited them.

Lana hadn't spent much time in the heart of the city, and she marveled at the detail on the balconied and mosaicked walls and houses. Even the cobblestones were arranged in spiraling and concentric patterns, with darker stones swirling and lightening into white. Despite the meandering design of the city, which branched from the main square like a web, Taren threaded through the streets with automatic confidence.

They began climbing—the streets becoming steeper, the houses grander as they rose. Vistas provided glimpses of the city hemmed in by the dark, jagged arms of the forest. In the distance, bright pockets of houses interrupted the cascading mounds of trees. Further still lay the glinting sands of the desert, refracting a rainbow haze. At the zenith of the city, nestled against the gentle curve and rise of the foothills, was a colossal building.

Walls as pale and luminescent as abalone shells stacked one upon another up the hillside, with streams of stairs and terraces and gardens threaded throughout. Even though it lacked symmetry, the building had harmony and balance that seemed more natural than the grand halls Lana had seen illustrations of back home.