Stalk the Moon

by Jessica Lynch

  I can hear the disgust in his voice. Wait? He’s disgusted at himself? Oh, hell no. “I think you are. Better, I mean.”

  “You shouldn’t. Know why?”

  I shake my head.

  “So I find you, yeah? And all you want is to go. I can’t deny you anything, so I promise to help you, even though all I want to do is hold you close. Now, ya see, tellin’ you I’d find you a portal has put us at odds, even before the archer stuck his nose in our business. Here’s why: ‘cause you want to go back, and there’s nothin’ I want more than for you to stay here with me. Forever.”

  I’m friggin’ glad that I haven’t moved yet. If I was standing, his confession might have knocked me back on my ass.

  “I… I can’t stay.”

  “I know. Don’t I know it, darlin’. You’ve made that perfectly clear, but I’d hate myself if I didn’t at least try to convince you not to go.”

  I don’t know what’s worse: the humor that was woven into his earlier confession or the way he’s suddenly so dead serious despite the amount of nectar he guzzled.

  And, well, it’s not like I haven’t already figured that part out. From the moment we first met, Hunter made it clear that he wanted me to stay with him.

  I just… holy shit. I didn’t think he meant for forever.

  “You know what? I take it back. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “You gonna try to outrun my feelings for you, too?”

  If that was all it took, I’d sign up for another race with him. I shake my head. “I can’t do this right now.”

  “Yella,” he accuses.

  “You’re damn right.”

  Pushing up off of the ledge, I climb back to my feet. Am I being a coward? Hell if I know. Probably. Because the truth is that the more he says he wants me to stay, the more I’m beginning to wonder why I shouldn’t, and that’s the worst thing I can do because I still haven’t figured out if Noelle is the “me” he really wants.

  I go to move ahead of him but Hunter blocks the way. I might not be racing him, but I’m ready to dart down the footpath. I can’t. He’s too big.

  “Move.”

  “No.”

  “Hunter, go.”

  His feet are planted on the ground. “I’ve been tryin’ for days to figure you out, Noelle. You’re like nothing I ever expected—”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” I snap. That’s it. I don’t care if I end up slipping and taking a nosedive off this mountain. I won’t stand here and be told that I’m a poor substitute to a goddess.

  Doesn’t he think I friggin’ know that?

  Hunter stops me. Of course, he does. All it takes is the flat of his palm landing gently on my shoulder. The cloak mutes the electric jolt that shoots through me at his touch. I still pause as if I’m a switch that’s been shorted out.

  “You don’t want to hear it. I get that. It’s the one thing I figured out. Whenever it gets too real, you don’t want to hear it. And I’m sorry you feel that way, ‘cause I won’t stop.”

  “I can always turn around and walk away from you,” I threaten. As threats go, it’s pretty empty. I’ve come too far to turn back now. If I climb down this mountain without checking his cave out first, I’m never coming back, and I bet he’s well aware of that.

  “Go right ahead. I’ll follow right behind you. But I’d rather be by your side.” The smallest, most determined grin tugs at his lips. “And I won’t apologize for wantin’ to be huntin’ by your side again. It’s the only place I’ve ever belonged. The only place I’ve ever wanted to be, no matter the damn tale.”

  “It’s your stupid story that makes you think that.”

  “No, it’s the story that brought you through the mirror,” he argues. “I’ve waited years to see Artemis be reborn, I’m not gonna lie about that. But it’s my absolute devotion to you—to Noelle—that makes me desperate to have you stay. And if all you want from me is to help you cross back over, then that’s fine, too. I’ll always do everything I can for you, darlin’. Nothing can stop me.”

  God, I wish I could believe that. “Not even me?”

  “No. Not you, not Artemis, not the archer. Not even the way this damned story is fixin’ to go. I won’t let it. I’ve found you, Noelle. It’s gonna take a hell of a lot for me to let you go, but I will. I’ll give you everything I have, do anything you ask. I told you you were mine. I should’ve said that I’ve always been yours.”

  I absolutely hate the fact that he’s right. Whatever his reasons, Hunter’s been there for me since day one. He’s given me everything I need without asking for anything in return.

  The sandals. The cloak. My bow and arrow. Everything sized perfectly for me, almost as if he’s been expecting me all along. The way he showed up in the clearing minutes after I took out that first scorpion, like he was already on his way to get me once I fell through the mirror.

  My stomach tightens and it’s all I can do to keep my nectar down.

  He really was expecting me.

  I push that thought away, focusing instead on the matter at hand. There’s a reason I’m here? Okay. Fine. Now if only someone would tell me what it is.

  It all comes down to the—

  “The story, the story, the story. That’s all I keep hearing from you. You want me to believe that I’m Artemis and that, somehow, I’m destined to act out a part in a myth I know absolutely nothing about. I’m flying blind here, Hunter. What is this story?”

  Hunter sighs. “I knew you were gonna ask me that.”

  Like I haven’t a million times already? “Then tell me.”

  “I can’t. Not yet.”

  His words are weighed down with regret. I refuse to let that affect me. “Why not?” I demand. If this story is ours, then I have every right to know.

  Right?

  Hunter shakes his head.

  Guess not.

  “Hunter—”

  “I can’t tell you because I’m still hopin’ to change it. Nothing’s set in stone. The story has to be told, but the outcome doesn’t have to be the same.”

  Now he’s talking in riddles. I’m not sober enough for this. “That’s not what Alex said,” I remind him.

  At the mention of the other man, Hunter’s shoulders tense as his features tighten. He turns away from me at last, giving me his profile.

  “I’m an old fool, Noelle,” he says, frowning. “Hope’s all I got. I’m askin’ you not to take that from me, too.”

  I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. I shake my head, closing my trap with an audible click. I swallow roughly.

  Congratulations, Hunter. You did it. You finally managed to shut me up.

  The conversation falters and dies after that. The moment passes. It’s gone. Hunter doesn’t have anything else to say, and I’m still recalling the way he said my name, sounding out the two syllables like it was a caress.

  His fingers stray down to his belt. He grabs the canteen hanging there, unlooping it easily. Turning back to look at me, I see that his face is shadowed, his eyes haunted. He sets it down by my thigh before backing away, busying himself with rearranging his pack once more.

  I pick it up, turn it over. It’s only after I make sure it’s the dented canteen, the one full of water, that I flip open the cap and take a few sips.

  One thing for sure? I’m never, ever touching Hunter’s nectar again.

  24

  Almost as if by agreement, neither one of us mentions the nectar disaster once we start climbing the mountain again. Apart from warning me about treacherous steps ahead or plying me with enough of that salted meat that I’ve gained about five pounds in water weight, Hunter keeps quiet.

  Since I’m afraid what he’ll say next if I entice him to open up, I keep my trap closed, too.

  The nectar wears off about a half an hour after our break. I had been dreading some sort of hangover. Thankfully, I dodge that bullet. It’s like I’ve had the world’s strongest energy drink, I’m so wired. I have no trouble keeping up with Hunt
er, even if the clarity in my brain makes it easy to remember what we talked about in my slightly drunken haze.

  He didn’t really tell me he wanted me to actually stay here, right?

  Ah, crap.

  “We’re almost there,” Hunter announces.

  He points in front of him. I touch my hand to the back of his cloak to keep myself steady as I peek around his bulk, tilting my head so I can see exactly what he’s pointing at. The path continues to arc up and around the massive mountain. All I see is a steep incline that makes my insteps want to weep. I don’t want to ask for another break—call me chicken, because, yeah, I’m scared what’ll happen if we stop again—but the magic of the nectar has abandoned my poor feet.

  Climbing in leather-soled sandals? I’m back to plotting how to steal the boots off of Hunter.

  The worst part is I know that, if I ask him for them, he’d hand them over in a heartbeat. Doesn’t matter that they’re way too big or that he could never squeeze his big ol’ man feet in my sandals. He’d give them to me because I wanted them.

  That certainty worries me. At some point during this climb, I’ve started to believe some of what he’s told me.

  I’ve got to find a portal and get out of here before I start falling for all of it.

  Focus, Noelle. Hunter said we’re almost there. Okay. What am I seeing?

  The mountain is craggy, jagged, and precipitous. It’s bald, too. The higher we go, the less greenery there is and, let me tell you, it’s kind of a shock after spending the last few days in the woods. Rocks are everywhere: loose pebbles, jutting boulders, stony outcrops and ledges.

  The only green I see is made up of stray patches of dying grass, dry and brittle and, really, more yellow than green. I don’t think it rains up here as much as it does down below.

  Sunlight shimmers and glitters against certain swaths of stone, reflecting off of a vein of crystal quartz in the mountainside. It looks like it might be frozen water trapped in the rock. I lift my other hand up, shielding my eyes so that I can look past it.

  That’s when I notice all of the dips in the mountain, dark holes that are probably way deeper than I can see from this spot.

  Caves. They have to be. I start to count and lose track at twenty-five. There are still countless more.

  “Tell me you know exactly which one of those caves we’re looking for.”

  He nods. “Ain’t too far, either. But stay close. The rocks have a habit of shiftin’ the higher up we go. It’s a little bit dicey.” He pauses. “Might be a good idea to not look down.”

  Why did he have to say that? Naturally, I’m totally going to look now.

  Whoa. Vertigo is a dick. One peek over the side and my head is already spinning. My body starts to lean, my heart slamming against my chest when it seems like I’m falling forward.

  How the hell did we already climb this high? And it’s only going to get worse?

  Careful not to drop my bow, I grab a fistful of his cloak. And, yeah, it’s probably not the smartest idea to cling to him like a leech, especially after what he told me before, but I don’t care. I know where he stands now, he knows what I want, and neither one of us are going to apologize for it.

  I’m also not a complete moron. No way am I going to let my pride get me killed.

  Stay close, he said. I can do that.

  It’s a little awkward at first, and I know I’m slowing us down by clutching his cloak like a kid who grabs her mother’s coat at the mall to keep from getting lost. Hunter purposely shortens his stride so that he doesn’t rush me which means that I accidentally kick the back of his boots a few times as I stay right on his ass. My poor toes are no match for the toughened leather and more than half of them are stubbed, jammed, or bruised within the first twenty minutes of this new approach. I’m that anxious to find his cave—and I’m not even thinking about finding a portal. All I want to do is get away from this narrow path.

  So maybe my minor fear of heights isn’t so minor after all. Checking to see how high up we are—and how far I would fall—was a big mistake. Huge. Because all I keep thinking about is dropping down like one of the rocks I’ve seen break loose and skitter down the mountainside.

  I guess it’s too much to hope for a guardrail in the Other. If I come back through the mirror, I’ll have to figure out another way in and out that has nothing to do with this stupid mountain. Even landing in the scorpion’s den is better than this—

  Wait—what?

  I slam on the brakes so suddenly that my arm jerks when Hunter keeps on moving without me. I stumble, then let go of his cloak before he drags me with him. My hand opens and closes on air. There’s nothing for me to grab for support and it’s pure dumb luck that I manage to shift back on my heels and recover before falling over.

  I barely even notice that I come within inches of my right sandal slipping off the side of this path. No, I’m too busy wondering where that thought came from.

  Coming back?

  Returning to the Other?

  Holy shit. It scares the crap out of me that that’s something I’m even thinking about. I mean, I still have the mirror. Technically, I could come back. No one said I couldn’t. I could give my notice, pack my stuff, grab Dudley—

  —and then what?

  Throw my whole life in New Jersey away for a guy I met a couple of days ago? Artemis might know Hunter, and I can’t deny my growing feelings for him, but there are still so many questions I have that he repeatedly refuses to answer.

  How can I give up everything for a man I can’t trust?

  Still, the idea that I could get my things in order, check in on Dud, make sure no one’s filed a missing person’s report on me, and then come back through the portal to see Hunter again—I kind of like it. I don’t have to be stuck here if I can figure out how to make the portals work. From one side of the mirror to the next, I could have my cake and eat it, too.

  It’s tempting. Very tempting. More tempting than it has any right to be.

  My head is spinning. I want to think it’s my vertigo acting up again. I know better. Instead, I blame the nectar. Maybe it hasn’t worn off as much as I believed.

  It takes Hunter a few seconds to realize that I’m not hanging onto his cloak any longer.

  “Noelle?” Though his voice is low, I can hear the concern and worry as it carries on the thin air. “You doin’ all right, darlin’?”

  “Yeah.” Lie. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Another lie. I give my head a little shake.

  That’s a mistake. I feel dizzy now. Not the best sensation when one small step means a Noelle pancake. If I listen to Alex, the one upside to partnering with Artemis is that gods can’t really get too hurt in the Other. My battered toes, for one, have already stopped aching. Can I survive a drop like this?

  Probably shouldn’t chance it.

  I close my eyes, trying to get my bearings. When I feel the weight of something fall on my shoulders, followed by the familiar spark, my eyes shoot open.

  The something I felt? His hands are on my shoulders. Hunter is barely a foot away. The heat of his breath causes the flyaway hairs around my face to flutter.

  I jump in surprise. I didn’t expect him to be that close. He moves so silently, I never heard him coming. Only the sure grip on my shoulder keeps me steady on the ledge when I jerk under his touch.

  “Jesus Christ, you’re worse than Dudley.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve got to get a cat bell for you. Shit. Don’t do that.”

  “You sure you’re fine?” he asks me. He bends his knees slightly so that we’re on the same eye level. He searches my face, his brow furrowing. I guess he doesn’t like what he sees. He leans in a little closer. “You’re turnin’ a little green there.”

  Too close. I try to move away without actually stepping backward. “Yeah, I already told you I—”

  He hushes me.

  I freeze. “Excuse me. Did you just—”

  “Shh, Noelle. I mean it.”

  He’s whispering. I’m n
ot. “What is wrong with you? Why are you whispering?”

  Hunter lifts his hand from my shoulder, motioning that I need to lower my voice.

  I roll my eyes, taking the opportunity to put some space between us as I wait for an explanation.

  He sighs. “Listen, there’s a fella whose cave ain’t too far from where we are. I’ve dealt with him before and if there’s one thing I learned, it’s he can get pretty testy if he’s disturbed. And his hearin’ is amazin’.”

  “It’s a man?” I ask, “Or a—” I gesture between Hunter and me. “You know.”

  “He’s like you.”

  A god, then. Friggin’ wonderful.

  “Is there anything you can tell me about him?”

  If Hunter gets my tiny dig on just how little he’s told me about himself, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he says simply, “His name is Hephaestus and it’s a bad idea to bother him. That’s all.”

  Hephaestus. Whatever the Other is, it’s clear that the stories Alex and Hunter refer to have something to do with Greek mythology. Artemis. Apollo. Satyrs. I rack my brain, but since I know next to nothing about it—admittedly, nearly everything I learned came from Disney’s Hercules—I come up with nothing. Hephaestus is another name in a long line of gibberish.

  “Hephaestus.” I repeat the name sotto voce, then let out a snort. “I guess he decided to go all in here. Unless his parents were dicks.”

  A funny look passes across Hunter’s face, there and gone again, as if whatever bothered him isn’t worth worrying about. He shrugs. “Don’t know,” he says, lowering his voice again until I have to move closer to hear him. “Could be. He was here long before I arrived in the Other and it’s the only name he ever gave me.”

  “Who is he?” I wait a beat. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me.”

  “Hephaestus was the blacksmith god, like Artemis was the goddess of the hunt,” he mutters. “This Hephaestus works the forge. You’re a crack shot with a bow and arrow. After enough time in the Other, it’s harder and harder to give a straight answer to a question like that. Who is he? Well, darlin’, who are you? Huh?” His voice is little more than a whisper. “Haven’t you figured out that part yet? The whole point of this accursed place? Second chances. It’s all about second chances. So you’re Artemis and you’re Noelle. Why can’t you be both?”