Chapter 53

2.2K 197 7
                                    

The ground, the forest, the Wold, everything I have ever known, has long since disappeared below the clouds, concealed and hidden by a fluffy white sheen. My stomach convulses again, forcing me to gag, and drops of blood and spittle break the perfect white wall.
Hold my heaving chest, I lean back, and look up at Coal. He stands proud and tall as always, but there are shadows beneath his sunken eyes, his face drawn and exhausted. After he spilled everything, we travelled for the rest of the day. And partially through the night.
Falling asleep had been terrifying for the both of us. If the freezing rain hadn't stopped before we'd finally bedded down, there would have been no way we'd ever have woken up. As it was, I was so scared I would never open my eyes once I closed them, my body sore and pounding all over. It was a miracle that I could even stand when the sun rose.
Day eight. No food, no water. I don't even have Stone anymore. The mysterious, sometimes odd, and loyal Wold boy has been replaced by a cold, seemingly heartless Noble. Everything I ever felt towards Stone, the affection, the mutual trust, all of it has disappeared along with the boy I... liked. I don't trust Coal- It took my total exhaustion to put me to sleep, me with my paranoia, expecting a knife in my back every second. Stone is as good as dead.
The rock beneath my hand crumbles to dust and loose gravel, and my heart leaps as I'm swung downwards, hanging on by the slipping fingers of my other hand.
The slope is so steep by now the my feet are just dangling in the air. The climb is completely vertical. For a second, I seriously consider simply letting go, letting myself fall. Certainly it would be the easier way out. No one I love is left in this world- My mother, kidnapped, perhaps killed, by Servants of the Order. I'll probably never learn the truth of her disappearance. And Stone... Oh, Stone... I had cared about a ghost, a person that never even existed...
Suddenly, there's a rough, warm touch on my hand, though it takes my body more than a couple seconds to recognize that my skin has made contact with something. I lift my eyes, and see... Coal, hand grasping mine, eyes concerned. But they're not Stone's eyes, they're cold, calculating, haughty and proud.
"Give me your hand." He says gently, like he's talking to a feral animal. I guess any affection he faked towards me has already vanished... But it was real for me.
"Why?" I say simply. I see no point in going on. Both of us are dying. Going back isn't even a choice anymore- It would be impossible to descend this wall. If we reach the top-Then what? Starve to death with a sense of accomplishment? Die with Coal on the peak, never to be heard from again?
"Because if we don't start a rebellion, who will?" He replies calmly. "Now, give me your hand." I give up arguing, deciding I'll need my strength for more important things, and swing my dangling hand up and over, where he grabs it in a surprisingly strong grip, for someone so... dying.
When he pulls me up, I argue with him in my head. How will we start a rebellion? Much less, how to defeat the Rulers with two person army. By now, I've figured that there will be no one at the top. A while back, when you could still sit, albeit uncomfortably, on the trail, we passed several small encampments of the lucky travelers who survived the ambush. Well, their remains, anyways.
Ever once and a while, we pass the broken, white corpse of one of the stronger flyers, impaled on the sharp, spearlike stalagmites that jut from the cold stone face of the mountain ever couple feet.
Until a while ago, I had retained the faint hope that a few travelers might have arrived at the top before us, maybe ones with food. But now that I've learned that Coal invented the entire thing, I know once we reach the top, it will be only us.
Thinking of all those families with small children... There was no way, when me and Coal, two athletic mutant teens, both driven and competitive, are slowly dying. Little Clay... And Bow, with arrow wound? There had never been a chance. And yet, instead of staying the forest, somewhat safe, but at least alive, with their family happy and whole, they had flocked to the murmurs of a rebel army, rumors that were started by the dark prince hiking beside me. They died for nothing... They died because of him.
Every time we passed a lifeless camp, or a broken, winged body, Coal would stop and use a piece of charcoal he had acquired from the cold fireplace at the first encampment we crossed, and roughly sketch the Soulbird of his religion into the stone next to the corpse. At first I objected, argued that it was just wrong to paint the afterlife of the Order for one who gave their life to deny them. But eventually, I just gave up, convinced Coal is already a horrible person, and nothing is going to change that.
At one point, I ask Coal about his mother, Queen Ruby, since he's already made it quite clear he openly hates his terrible father, King Spade, but he's never really described his mother, and she pleaded for his life, after all.
He answers, "Oh, the Queen?" I can't believe he won't call his own mother 'Mom'. Then again, the way he tells it, she isn't much of a mother. "She's no better than her husband. No, when the King found out about me, she pleaded innocence, claiming it was all my real father's fault, and she fully supported his sentence."
"Was she telling the truth? Did the Predator really..?" I raise an eyebrow to imply what I leave unspoken.
"Oh, I doubt it. If anything, the Queen probably took advantage of the poor guy. No, trust me, she's just as good as the King. Heck, when the King gave me this," He jabs a finger at the right side of his face, where the thin scar stands out wicked and white against his skin. "She just said, 'He deserved it, ungrateful brat.'."
I don't say anything, but I find myself suddenly thankful my mother was so nice and kind. What would I have ended up like if that had been my childhood...?
"Shh!" Coal suddenly hisses, though I'm not talking. I strain my ears, hoping to God that he hasn't finally lost it. Then I hear it. The murmuring.
But it's so, so close.
Then me and Coal are scrambling up the impossibly steep stone, bruising ourselves even further every time we lose our footing, but suddenly it doesn't matter, because we're almost there.
And then I poke my head through the top of a dark, heavy cloud.
I throw myself forward with pure joy and relief, content that I simply reached the top. At least now, when I die, I'll have some sense of accomplishment. Of peace. I smile at the thought.
I close my eyes.

71Where stories live. Discover now