Dreamscape: Saving Alex

Chapter Seventeen

We walked for hours away from Flourin, crossing northwest of the woods Arrow and I had taken to get to Baron Marix's, through miles of meadows and marshy grasslands. Their pace challenged me, but I didn't dare say anything. They didn't owe me, and I didn't want any favors. I didn't even want their attention. For the first time since being here, I faded into the background.

It didn't feel the same as I remembered.

I tightened the cloak, braving the brunt of the wind. I was out of breath when we stopped at the crossroads where the mountains met the wetlands.

"Goldy!" Arrow yelled.

"I'm coming," I said, cursing the slight quiver in my voice.

"Well, here we are." Arrow clenched his jaw. Sadness haunted his eyes, even though the rest of his face was emotionless.

"Thank you," I whispered, breaking eye contact. If I stared any more, I didn't think I'd be able to leave. "What will you do now? Where will you go?"

"We'll continue with our plan. With or without you, it's time to settle this battle."

"Is that safe? I mean, you could wait for another hero."

He gave me the same look he'd given me when I slapped him. "It doesn't work that way. I already told you, you were our only chance."

The silence stretched between us. "Arrow, I'm—"

"No," he said, cutting me off. "It's all been said." He pointed to the intersecting trails. "The trail to the right will take you around the mountains. The one on the left will take you to the wetlands, and if you're looking for the shortcut home, go straight up the cliff." That sent his men into a fit of laughter. "Goodbye Goldy. I hope you find your way home, I really do."

"Good luck to you too, Arrow." A tear slid down my face, blurring the line of men. I turned away, trying to ignore the sadness drowning me from the inside, and looked up towards the cliff. It was time to end this game. He may have been joking about the shortcut, but this was a video game. He might have told me something important without realizing it. And with a shortcut, I might be able to get to the final level, and home, sooner. I'd try the cliffs.

The enormity of the cliffs crushed me. Taller than anything I had seen before, sheer walls rose hundreds of feet, vertical cracks breaking the smooth surface. Fallen boulders filled the long crevasses. Clouds collided with the stone, breaking into a river of mist at the top. I swallowed hard and wiped my palms along my thighs.

Climbing came naturally to me, but this stretched my limits. I dusted my palms and caressed the walls, searching for the right hold. I found it. A narrow crevasse surrounded my palm like a glove. The next one fit just as perfectly. One handhold led to another. Prickles of anticipation shot through me. I climbed up the first twenty feet easily, finding holds and ridges perfectly aligned for my height. That's what I loved about climbing. I chose my own path. Only I could see where to go next. And when I reached the top, it was always worth it. The satisfaction I felt reinforced my resolve, and I did something I shouldn't have. I looked down.

Never look down. It was the first rule I was taught, and the most important. Besides the obvious threat of disorientation, I had a bad habit of second-guessing the path I had chosen. Hindsight was my enemy. The world spun, and my fingers slipped against the smooth rock. I couldn't find any more obvious handholds, and I cursed my impulsiveness. There was nowhere else to go. I had started in the wrong place.

Tightening my grip, I climbed down, and when I reached the ground, I folded my arms across my chest and looked up. The shortcut had to be here. I was sure of it. Trees and vines always marked the shortcuts between levels, and fifty feet up, a tree jutted out from the sheer walls. If I climbed there, I knew I'd find my next move.