by Mary Akers
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
She felt a lump rise in her throat as she considered how to answer. She wasn’t okay. Considering that she was leaving behind everyone she loved and the only home she’d ever known, she wondered if it would ever be possible for her to feel whole again. She felt utterly empty inside.
The question hung in the air uncomfortably until finally Asher sighed.
“I know you’re not okay,” he whispered, rubbing her back. “I meant, can you still do this?”
Elora took a shuddering breath and nodded her head.
“Thank you for telling Trig to leave,” she said quietly. “I know it would have been easier with his help.”
“I didn’t think you’d come with me otherwise,” he replied honestly.
“No, probably not,” she admitted.
She sighed and rubbed the tears from her swollen eyes. Lifting her head, she placed a hand against Asher’s chest and put some space between them. Realizing that his shirt beneath her hand was wet from her weeping, she wiped at it self-consciously.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered apologetically.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said kindly. “Besides, we’re about to get a whole lot wetter.”
Elora stopped, suddenly noticing the gentle rap of raindrops drumming against the roof of the lean-to. The front edge of the storm had reached Windom.
Chapter 20
Gusts of wind tormented the surrounding trees, bending them low, whistling through their branches and tearing the leaves free of their moorings. It buffeted against Elora and Asher as they walked toward the wall, the flaming torches acting as beacons in the black night. Raindrops pelted down on them, stinging their skin and soaking their clothing. Asher held tightly to her hand, as though he was worried that he’d lose her in the darkness, though it was more likely he was afraid she’d lose her nerve.
“Do you know where the ladder is?” Asher asked, shouting in her ear to be heard over the storm.
She took the lead, pulling him toward where she thought ladder would be; the ladder she’d used only a few short weeks ago when she’d seen beyond the wall for the first time. The wall that used to offer protection but now served only as a prison. The wilderness beyond had once seemed so terrifying but would now be her refuge.
The sky lit up, a bolt of lightning weaving through the clouds like a spider’s web. For a split second the wet stones of the wall were illuminated, now only 50 feet in front of them. A few more steps and they would be in its shadow, too close to see the light from the torches any longer. They were nearly there.
Elora’s legs felt numb and her entire body trembled with fear. Her terror increased with every step. She stumbled in the darkness, losing her footing in the wet grass. She was unable to catch herself, her body suddenly uncoordinated and her reflexes dull with dread. She would have fallen if Asher hadn’t quickly pulled her upright, his grip on her hand steady and firm. He released her suddenly and her heart nearly stopped beating. But hardly a moment passed before she felt his hand at her waist and the strength of his arm at her back. Her hand flew down to cover his and she gripped his fingers, grateful for the added support and comforted by the feel of him beside her. They quickly, but clumsily made their way over the last few yards to the wall. She reached out, her palms resting against the rough stones of the wall.
A faintly flickering square of light danced on the ground 20 feet away where torchlight shone through an opening in the surface of the wall. The ladder was there, mounted onto the wall, stretching from the ground upwards though the opening. Asher began walking towards it, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her along behind him.
Her feet felt like lead and her breath was coming in short gasps. Was she really going to be able to do this? How would she overcome this paralyzing fear?
At the base of the ladder, Asher stopped and turned to face her. He looked up through the opening, the light revealing the features of his face. He gaze was focused and determined. Elora studied him, marveling at his composure, envious of his bravery. Strangely, his calm seemed to be infectious. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
As they stood beneath the ladder, the wind unexpectedly abated and the downpour eased into a soft drizzle. Though the rain had cooled the night air considerably, the humidity was still smothering, a clear indication that the storm was far from over. They could still hear thunder rumbling in the distance, a hint of what was still to come once the next band of clouds reached Windom. But for now, there was a brief respite from the storm. They could hear the dribble of water falling from the wall overhead, collecting in puddles at their feet. Beneath the overhang they were sheltered from the rain.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her. The light was too faint to see the expression in his eyes clearly, but his gaze was unwavering. She looked away uncomfortably and lifted the hem of her drenched tunic, trying in vain to wipe the water from her face. She ran her hands roughly over her forehead, pushing back her wet hair. Staring at the ground, she nervously avoided making eye contact. After a moment, he gently took her chin in his fingers, lifting her face and silently asking her to look at him again. She at last relented, raising her eyes to his. He leaned down until he was only whisper away.
“You can do this,” he said softly.
She stared back at him with wide eyes, her body numb with terror. Her mouth was dry and her heart was pounding mercilessly. A wet lock of hair blew across her face and she tried unsuccessfully to brush it away with fingers that were shaking so violently that they tingled.
“Elora, stop,” he said gently. “You have to calm down.”
Something brushed against her leg and she jumped, looking down at the ground in alarm. The grass around them had begun to grow and was blowing against their knees as the wind began to gust more forcefully with the coming storm. As she watched, the blades extended another inch.
Elora lifted her hands, at last recognizing the tingling in her fingers for what it was. She felt powerless to control her gift in this moment. She looked up at Asher, her eyes wild with panic.
He took her trembling hands in his and pulled her close. He pressed her hands against his chest, covering them with one of his warm, steady ones. Reached out with his other hand, he gently tucked the wayward lock of hair behind her ear. He lifted her chin, and searched out her eyes with his.
She fixed her eyes on him, trying to focus on something beside the overwhelming fear coursing through her body. Just being near him was soothing and encouraging. She took it all in; the steady beat of his heart, the quiet confidence of his gaze, his towering frame and strong body. She could see in his eyes that he was nervous, but his determination wouldn’t let that stop him. He was going over the wall. He didn’t question it. He knew it.
As she stood before him, studying him, she considered what he must think of her. Why was she allowing herself to be controlled by her fear? She was better than this. She was stronger than this. Her parents needed her to be strong. The Claren needed her to be strong. She was the Renascent. She was going to save them all. But first, she would have to save herself.
She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She willed her heartbeat to slow. A sense of calm spread throughout her body and the tingling in her fingers subsided. She opened her eyes, no longer wide with terror but focused with resolve. She fixed her gaze on Asher and beneath her hands she felt his chest heave with a sigh of relief.
“I can do this,” she said, ignoring the way her voice quivered.
He nodded and released her hands, but the look in his eyes kept her spellbound. He caressed her face once more, smoothing back the hair at her temple.
“You can do this,” he repeated once more, though it seemed more for his benefit than hers this time.
His hand dropped from her face and he looked down to the satchel on her hip. Reaching into it, he pulled out the Elysic cloak and shook
it out.
“I’m hoping they won’t see us at all,” he whispered. “But in case they do…”
He fastened it around her neck and pulled the hood up over her head.
“I will go up first and attach the rope,” he said quietly. “You wait on the ladder and I’ll come for you when I think it’s safe.”
Elora nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and steel herself against the fear that threatened to bubble up once more.
The wind began to pick up again and a blinding bolt of lightning illuminated the sky. A deafening crack of thunder quickly followed.
“That was close,” Elora whispered nervously.
“I know,” Asher replied. “Try not to worry about the storm, Elora. Only one thing at a time.”
The gentle drizzle suddenly became a torrent, roaring around them and drenching them completely. Elora pressed her body against the wall and covered her face with her hands, trying to shield herself from the downpour. Sheets of water fell slanted from the sky as powerful gusts of wind propelled the rain sideways. Elora couldn’t see or hear, could barely breathe in the onslaught.
She felt Asher take hold of her hand and pull her forwards. Cupping her free hand over her eyes, she squinted in a futile attempt to see him. He firmly wrapped her fingers wrapped around the hard metal of the ladder and let go.
“He can’t mean to do this now, in the midst of the storm!” she thought stunned.
She grasped for him with her other hand but only felt the hard leather of his boot as it rose beyond her reach up the rungs of the ladder. Elora froze, unsure of what to do. Should she follow him? She had to be at the top of the ladder when he came for her or the entire escape would fail. But every reasonable fiber of her being was bristling in protest. No sane person would climb onto the wall right now.
As further proof of her point, a knotted rope smacked the ground a few feet away and a Guardsman landed on his feet beside it soon after. He took off in the opposite direction along the wall, unaware of Elora’s presence. Even the Guard was abandoning their post in this storm.
But Asher was up there.
“Oh God,” she thought, gripping the ladder with both hands. “This is such a bad idea.”
One foot after the other, she climbed the ladder, stopping once or twice to wipe the water from her eyes. Her head suddenly and painfully collided against the solid bars of the grate covering the top of the ladder.
“Ow,” she whispered, the sound drowned out by the raging storm.
Now, she waited. She dropped down a rung and hooked her arm through the ladder, trying to find a comfortable position. The Elysic cloak was soaking wet and she felt smothered by the fabric around her face.
“No one can see me anyway,” she thought, and with her free hand, she pushed the hood back and ran her hand over her wet hair. Her finger touched something unfamiliar and she paused. Patting her updo further, it only took her a moment to recognize the twigs and leaves tucked into the knot of braids.
She returned her grip to the ladder and sighed. Her heart broke a little as she remembered how beautiful the flowers had looked in her hair that morning. Flowers that Trig had gathered to adorn her hair. Wildflowers for a wildflower. What a wonderful life she had been living. She slumped against the ladder, alone in the darkness and soaked to the bone, allowing herself a small moment to acknowledge the abject misery of her current situation.
As quickly as it had begun, the downpour lightened to a sprinkle and the world fell silent. Relieved for the lull in the storm, Elora breathed in deeply and swiped a hand down her face to clear away the water. Thunder rolled in the distance, strong enough to vibrate the ladder beneath her fingers. A gust of wind, buffeted against her, billowing the cloak around her legs. The storm was far from over.
A hand clamped around her wrist and she recoiled in surprise.
“It’s me,” she heard Asher whisper. “Hurry.”
Lightning roiled in the clouds above, casting a dim light all around. Elora looked up and for only a moment was able to see his silhouette, crouching beside the opening. She scrambled up the last remaining rungs of the ladder. As she emerged through the opening, he took hold of her waist and swiftly lifted her the rest of the way, setting her onto her feet and closing the grate.
All the torches had been extinguished by the torrential rain. Elora, blinded in the pitch black night, pressed against the wall, fearful that she would accidently fall. She felt Asher fumbling for her hand in the darkness and reached for him, grateful for the strength of his fingers as they wrapped around hers like a vice. He pulled her along the wall a few feet and then stopped, taking her hand and carefully wrapping it around the thick wet rope he had already attached to the ring and tossed up over the exterior wall.
He cupped the nape of her neck with his free hand, pulling her head close to his and spoke directly into her ear to be heard over the sounds of the storm.
“I’m going first. I’ll come back up if I think it’s too dangerous,” he said. “Use your legs to stay off the wall. I’ll jerk the rope when I reach the bottom.”
Too frightened to make a sound, she nodded her head, feeling his wet hair brush against her cheek. He didn’t move for a moment and she could sense his reluctance to leave her.
“You can do this, Elora,” he said again, before abruptly tugging her towards him, tucking her head in the crook of his neck. He held her there for only a moment, before releasing her. She felt a void where he had been standing only a moment ago and felt the rope swaying with his movements as he rappelled down the wall.
“Come back up,” she thought. “Please, come back up.”
She waited, hoping that he would change his mind, that she wouldn’t have to climb on top of that wall in a minute and go over the edge. But he didn’t reappear and he didn’t make a sound. There was only the subtle movements of the rope, rolling back and forth with his steady descent.
Suddenly, the rope jumped. Her eyes grew wide and she stared down at her hand, her trembling fingers wrapped around the thick, woven cord. It jumped again a moment later. That was his signal. She really had to do this now.
“Please, God,” she whispered, pushing the cloak back out of the way and lifting her knee onto the exterior wall. She hoisted herself upwards and laid across the barrier, her heart racing and her fingers like ice. Taking a firm grip of the rope with one hand and holding the back edge of the wall in the other, she slowly lowered her legs over the wall. Something sharp jabbed against her leg and she inhaled sharply.
Jagged and spiked. Trig had been right.
But Asher had made it down and he wanted her to follow. He thought she could do this. She had to do this.
She forced herself to release her grip on the edge of the wall, desperately clinging to the rope, her torso still perched on top of the surface. She wedged her knees against the stones, gritting her teeth against the sharp edges as they dug into her skin, and lowered herself off of the wall. She worked her hands down the rope until she came upon the first knot. Wrapping her fingers solidly around the knot, she shifted her weight, lifting off of her knees and onto her feet. She breathed a sigh of relief, a small sense of victory emboldening her as she slowly inched her hands down the rope.
Suspended in the darkness, she could neither see the perilous wall, nor the ground looming below, making them both more terrifying but also easier to ignore. She focused on the task at hand, carefully dragging her feet along the wall, feeling her way between spikes and finding her footing. Quickly she found a rhythm, encountering the next knot in the rope only a few moment later.
A blinding bolt of lightning darted towards the ground followed almost immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. Elora gasped, startled and disoriented for only a second. Her hands slipped on the wet rope, but she recovered her grip quickly and regained her balance. She needed to hurry. The storm was strengthening.
Larger raindrops began pelting her face as she, inch by inch, lowered herself down the wall. The wind began whipping the cloak around her body, throwing off her balance, forcing her to go even slower.
How far had she gone? How much further did she have to go? She had no way to know. Asher couldn’t call out to her without giving them away, not that she would hear him over the sounds of the storm anyway. She had no choice but to continue.
Suddenly a brutal gust of wind knocked her off her feet, buffeting her against the treacherous wall. She couldn’t help the cry that escaped as a spike grazed her shoulder, piercing her skin. She felt the warmth of her blood as it dripped down her arm. She struggled to turn her body and plant her feet on the wall, but she was no match for the wind. Wrapping her legs around the rope, she tried instead to support her quickly weakening arms. She swung back and forth, twisting hopelessly, her arms scraping against the rough and jagged rock, her head knocking against the stones, her hands clinging desperately to the rope.
The rain began falling in earnest, drenching the fibers of the rope. Her fingers lost their grip and slid down the rope nearly a foot before gaining purchase against a knot. Too frightened and panicked to even cry, she closed her eyes, holding tightly to the rope and hoping the storm would pass quickly. She had never felt more terrified or helpless in her life. Her hands were numb with exhaustion but still she held on. How would she survive this? She knew how injured she must be, but she felt no pain. Her heart was racing, her body coursing with adrenaline.
Suddenly something smooth brushed against her arm. All at once, she was surrounded by foliage. She could feel the stems weaving and curling around her legs and between her fingers. She heard the gentle thud of raindrops falling against leaves and her body was no longer being battered against hard stone. Had she fallen? But she quickly realized the rope was still there, firmly grasped in her hands. She opened her eyes in disbelief, looking around in wonder but unable to see clearly in the darkness.
Lightning once again illuminated the sky and her mouth fell open in awe. The wall around her was covered in thick vines. They slithered around her like snakes, coiling and thickening before her eyes. Broad, silky leaves burst forth from the stems, unfurling into a soft green carpet, coating the jagged rocks and burying the sharp spikes that dotted the wall.
