Ice Cold - Part One: The Dark Zone

Chapter Twenty-Seven

As the two of them continued to walk, they found themselves heading away from the plateau's center and before long they came up to the lake that Alex had seen from the overlook. It was much larger in person. The water was clear and blue and gave off a cool, soothing vibe as its surface rippled in the light, spring breeze.

Rowan knelt at the bank and placed a hand in the water. "How old is your sister?"

Guessing they would stop here, Alex sat down by the edge of the water. "She's twelve," he answered her. "Two years younger than me."

Rowan continued moving her hand around in the water. "I'm sure she's lovely."

Alex shrugged. That was something he had never really taken the time to think about, especially regarding his sister. However, it still made him recall how many years he had spent practically ignoring her, so much that he never seemed to realize how much she was growing. He almost wondered how he could ever show his face around her again. "She is," Alex muttered to himself, hardly thinking. "You remind me of her a bit."

Alex was barely listening to himself, but Rowan was curious. "I do?" she asked, looking back at him. "How?"

He tried searching his mind for something quick to say, but as soon as Alex locked eye contact with Rowan again he knew exactly what it was he meant to say. "You're both very strong," he responded confidently. "My sister has the same optimistic outlook on life that you do, no matter how difficult things seem to get. Of course, I imagine you have it a bit harder."

Rowan managed a quiet laugh, but it quickly subsided as the memories returned to haunt her again; the memories of the devastating loss her people suffered. Yet, Alex's words did not fail to remind her how important it was that she remained strong for her people, and for her brother. She had come far since she met Alex only hours before, when she believed him to be dangerous. Looking at him now, there was simply no way this boy was capable of harming anyone without cause. She still wondered how Alex would feel if they asked him to reveal the weaknesses of his kind. She knew nothing of the culture of Outsiders and did not know if it would be insensitive to ask him or not. Part of her even wanted to ask how far he would go for them, if he cared about them at all.

All these thoughts racing through Rowan's head were too much for her right now. She needed something to take her mind off it all. Reaching up to her neck, she pulled her grandmother's old, wooden charm from under her outfit and gazed at like she did during most sleepless nights. It was not long before Alex even took notice of it.

"What's that?" he asked, breaking her concentration.

"My grandmother made it for me," Rowan replied emotionally, "just before she died. She carved it from the wood of the oldest tree in our village."

"Your village?"

"Our home in the valley," Rowan smiled faintly. "Ravenna, we called it. Much of our culture thrived there for years before it was destroyed. My grandmother made this for me so I'd remember her when she was gone." Rowan removed the necklace and handed it to Alex. "You wanna take a look at it?"

Alex was careful as he took it from Rowan's hand. It looked very old and darkened with age, but he could make out the markings on it very clearly. However, Alex narrowed his eyes as he stared down at it. It was not what he thought it would look like. The plain, carved image of a strange man made up the majority of the space in the small charm. He was almost a stick figure in appearance, but Alex's eyes were drawn to the object carried in his left hand. It possessed a vaguely cross-like shape. It almost appeared to be shaped like an ankh.

Alex's eyes widened with curiosity. "Rowan," he muttered. "Who is this man?"

"I don't know." Rowan shook her head. "I could never figure out what my grandmother wanted to tell me when she made it. Why do you ask?"