Paragon - Book I

Rock and Root

"I've got to go north," she answers. "I need to meet up with some friends."

"Aye," he frowns but holds out a hand. "Well then, good luck, kid."

She takes it, and then shakes Bon's hand.

"Keep an eye out for more of us," he advises. "Most people kill first and then ask questions."

When Bon and his friend have gone a safe distance Allayria resumes her trek north, moving closer to the trees and keeping a roving gaze, looking for more potential problems. She spies a few hiding in the distance: snippets of toes or disappearing patches of clothes, but the other fleeing prisoners seem less aggressive than Bon and the club enthusiast.

The suns start to fade on the horizon and Allayria begins to think she might be in some more trouble. She's taken to leaning on a long stick as she walks; the ankle is only getting worse. Her throat is so parched now from lack of water she can barely croak above a whisper. She knows now she has blown pass their rendezvous time and it seems more than likely she might be on her own tonight.

She finds the spot where she and Keno had last seen the others and begins the long trek up through tangled roots and crumbling dirt. It's exhausting. Her arms shake and slowly deaden with the effort as debris flies in her face, smelling of earthworms and browning leaves. She quickly loses any concern about appearance after that, blearily concentrating on the simple act of pulling herself up farther.

Her hand reaches out and grabs another root, her walking stick digging in as she pushes forward and upward, and she hears the murmur of voices. It's a jolt to her system, and she hikes herself up again, gaining some altitude as she pulls up to face the bottom of an even higher cliff. She snakes an arm around a thin tree and pants. She wants to give in, to plant herself at the bottom here and wait it out until the morning, or even walk further along the side and look for a better way to get up, when she hears it:

"What do you mean you lost her?"

Allayria straightens up, and looks up at the cliff. She hobbles over to the sloping, tangled rock and root and finds a foothold. She climbs.

"One of the prisoners broke through the wall and the crowd separated us, by the time I got up and around the fighting she was gone. Look, I cased the floor, I looked around the building, I stayed for as long as I could, but the battalions were coming in and she wasn't there."

She's half-way up by some surge of untapped determination, crawling up the smaller ridges, pulling herself through the tangled underbrush.

"I'm going back for her."

"Ben, don't be crazy—"

"I'm going back for her. Take them back, talk to the brothers and start planning what we'll do next. I'm going back."

Allayria grips the tree root and heaves up, swinging her bundled leg over the lip of the overhang. She hears their gasps of surprise but struggles to pull the rest of herself up, her arms suddenly heavy. A pair of hands grip her midriff and she's tugged over onto the grass, where she lays for a minute, panting.

There is a chorus of voices, relieved, happy, surprised, and people are gripping her shoulder. She smiles, a hand over her eyes.

"Water." She manages to strangle the whisper out of her throat. Iaves holds out a canteen as she hauls herself up. She drinks for an age. She feels weak all over, now that it is over and she is safe.

"I don't think I've ever been so happy to see someone flop on the ground like trout the cat dragged in," Keno says, kneeling down beside her with a crazy grin on his face. "Where the hell did you go?"