she found three dead Andinna, all looking as if they had gone to sleep and never woken. That was how most of the Andinna on the mountain died. She had already slept near their dead bodies. Forever trapped, stopped before they reached the top.
If I warm up successfully, I won’t have the problem they did, and…
Inside the cavern, there was less snow. She didn’t want to defile the dead, but she took some of their outerwear and piled it up. She would not strip them naked, not when they looked like people she could have known.
She grabbed the flint she had in her bag and tried to spark them. There was nothing living on this mountain, only rocks and snow this far up, but she prayed she could light their clothing on fire. When that didn’t work, she reached back into her pack, where she was able to keep everything dry, and tried to find something else.
She had nearly a dozen medical bandages in case she took a nasty spill. She grabbed one, feeling the gauze fabric. This could get something started.
For the first time since she left the temple, Mave had fire. She kept feeding her tiny flame with more gauze. It was slow work, but the clothes eventually dried, and she threw them on the fire. It would burn hot and fast, but she was okay with that. It would be enough for her to rest a little more comfortably. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to fall asleep.
When she woke up, she was cold, and the fire had gone out, but she had woken up. She had to continue.
No other options. This is my path now, and I have to see it through.
She gathered her things, looked at the dead one last time, giving them a moment of silence, then left the cavern. The storm was a little calmer than when she fell asleep, so she took advantage. Moving quickly, she found a place where she could go up a steep but safe-looking incline.
She was halfway up it when the snow shifted.
“No!” she snapped, trying to grab for something. The snow slid, and it took her to the bottom, making her crash into a boulder at the bottom of the incline. Groaning, she pushed herself back her feet and looked up the incline. Baring her teeth, she started walking again. While her back would be bruised from the hit, she wasn’t sent off the mountain, and that was all she could think about—the positives. She had to remain focused on the positives.
Time passed as Mave was battered.
Over and over, she slipped, cut herself, climbed, and fell. All she could do through it all was keep her pace, steady, and unstoppable.
What did Leshaun tell me?
“Ala non lerani eni vorha.” She could remember his voice, and it brought tears to her eyes.
“There is no sprinting up a mountain.”
I wonder if he ever would have seen me here, taking his advice literally.
The mountain, in a weird way, cleared her mind. It didn’t care who she was or who she had been. The mountain didn’t care about the slave, the gladiator, the Champion. It didn’t care that she was a warrior, fighting for the Andinna. It didn’t care about what she had done or didn’t do or who her parents were.
It only wanted her to prove her worth right then. None of those things mattered to it because it was in the present, and it was deadly. Without trying, the mountain could take her to her knees. And it was beginning to gain ground on her.
Every time she slept, it got harder to get up. Every endless walk and another cliff to climb threatened to break her spirit. Every time she found a safe place to take a moment to herself, out of the storm, she cried, the tears leaving ice crystals on her face.
She was done with yet another cliff when her foot slipped, and she felt something pop. The sound and the sensation that went with it made her scream. She crawled away from the edge, hoping that nothing was terribly broken.
Please be a sprain. Please!
She pulled off her boot, then several thin layers of protection around her foot.
Her foot was bloody from wear and tear, something she never had a problem with before.
The pop was two of her toes, frozen solid, finally coming off. She shook her boot, her heart pounding as those toes fell out, and her stomach flipped.