Archon (8 page)

He was glad Amma hadn’t seen that. If she knew how much he was struggling, she might insist they turn back.

Next they had to hop across some large rocks strewn in the little valley they were in.

“This isn’t so bad,” Amma called out as she picked a path from rock to rock.

“I know why you’re so far ahead of me,” Taemon said, trying to hide how out of breath he was. “It’s my scarf, isn’t it? You’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

Amma laughed. “Who’s going to see us? Squirrels?”

Taemon hopped onto the next rock and nearly lost his balance.

“Taemon!”

“I’m okay,” he said quickly, jumping to the next rock as if to prove it. “Just lost my balance for a sec —”

“Look!”

He looked up. Amma was pointing at a gap in the rugged mountainside.

“The saddle,” she said.

It was the highest point of the path they were on. A narrow canyon led up to it, then there was a slope that was crazy steep and strewn with boulders and loose rocks. That’s what they had to get over.

“It looks impossible,” Taemon said.

“You mean impassible?”

Taemon nodded. “Same thing.”

Amma tilted her head as she peered at the slope. “I wouldn’t say impossible. But pretty tough. Let’s rest for a bit and enjoy the view.”

They sat on an outcropping that looked out over Deliverance.

“Look how far we’ve come.” Amma took a sip from her water bottle.

A jagged ravine lay below them, and far beyond that, the wooded valley of Deliverance. To the south, they could see the cluster of buildings that made up the colony. Directly ahead, to the east, the city of Deliverance was clearly visible, the walls forming a diamond shape around it. Logging camps were visible as well, both the powerless and the abandoned psi-powered ones. Way off in the distance, the hazy line of the ocean wavered in the sunlight.

“It looks so peaceful from here,” Taemon said.

Amma murmured her agreement.

Taemon thought about all the turmoil that was going on right now. The city of former psi wielders trying to adjust to a completely foreign lifestyle without psionic power. The colony struggling to help the city dwellers while also looking after their own people. Deliverance was anything but peaceful at the moment.

After a few more meditative moments, Taemon stood and turned to face the daunting slope they had to cross. Amid the scraggly brush, two squirrels took turns chasing each other.

“Why don’t you stay here and get the lunch ready?” Amma suggested. “I’m going to set my snares. If we’re lucky, we’ll have fresh roasted squirrel tonight.”

“Never thought I’d feel lucky to eat a squirrel,” Taemon said, fumbling with the zippers on his backpack.

“And I never thought I’d be crossing Mount Deliverance and going to the Republik,” Amma responded, grabbing the snares. “Life has a funny way of surprising you.”

While Amma was gone, Taemon worked on setting out their lunch. There wasn’t much, but it still took a surprisingly long time. He hadn’t used psi since rescuing Amma from Free Will’s men; why wasn’t his arm getting better?

Amma came back right as he finished up. They ate slowly, neither of them in much of a hurry to tackle that monster slope. Taemon took a trip into the bushes to answer the call of nature, and when he got back, Amma was packing up. “We’ve probably waited long enough,” she said. “Let’s go see if we’ll have meat for dinner.”

They stashed their knapsacks among a pile of rocks, more to keep them out of the way of nosy critters than for fear that someone would steal them. Amma carried one of her hunting knives, and as Taemon followed a few steps behind her, he tried not to think about what it would be used for.

Amma led him into the stunted pines and scrubby undergrowth that clung to the mountainside.

“Shh. Stop!” Amma held up her hand.

Taemon looked past her and saw two squirrels standing right next to the snares. If they moved just a few inches to one side, there would be a hearty dinner tonight.

Taemon and Amma waited. The squirrels seemed in no hurry. They darted this way and that, inspecting leaves and searching for some tasty morsel, but never triggering the snares.

Taemon’s stomach rumbled. It was hours till dinnertime, but his meager lunch had hardly satisfied him. If they had any hope of making it to the saddle, they would need more than a handful of dried fruit and a few strips of jerky.

He eyed the squirrels closely. All it would take was one little nudge — one little nudge with psi — and they could have not one but
two
fat squirrels for dinner. And one little squinch of psi wasn’t going to hurt his shoulder.

But he couldn’t push the squirrels. Amma might notice that and get after him. He needed to make it look natural. He looked around for something that would startle the squirrels. All he needed was a pebble or a pinecone, something that might fall on its own.

Nearby was a large boulder with lots of little pebbles scattered around and on top of it. One small rock perched on the edge of the boulder looked like it could drop at any moment. It was perfectly positioned to roll down and herd the squirrels toward the snares. Taemon could make sure it rolled in the right direction. All it would take was the tiniest nudge.

Taemon cleared his mind and gathered his psi. He pictured exactly what he wanted to happen. Then he gave the command.
Be it so!

The pebble fell and tumbled toward the squirrels. But the squirrels jumped in the opposite direction of the snares.
No! Go the other way!

Taemon reacted without thinking. He used psi to slide the boulder outward a few inches, which allowed a cascade of pebbles to fall toward the squirrels and force them back to the snares.

The minute he’d done it, he knew it had been a mistake. He felt the weakness in his shoulder spread throughout his body. A roar filled his ears, his own pulse pounding against his eardrums. He felt dizzy, and the whole mountain seemed to vibrate.

“Holy Mother Mountain,” Amma whispered. “Is that what I think it is?”

And now Amma knew he’d used psi and had weakened himself. He had been a fool to try such a thing.

“Run!” Amma yelled, yanking Taemon’s arm.

Taemon glanced back toward the snares. The small stream of pebbles had become a mighty river of rocks and soil and debris. As they watched, the boulder itself became dislodged and started tumbling down the slope. Rock slide!

They ran, dodging the larger rocks and trying to ignore the smaller ones that pelted their legs. Worst of all, Taemon could not feel his feet touching the ground. He had to consciously place each foot as he ran. He slipped once, and Amma had to pull him up.

When the rock slide had finally run its course, Taemon and Amma sat down and tried to catch their breath. Their frantic escape had taken them much lower — and farther from the saddle.

“Now,
that,
” Amma panted, “was lucky.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of
un
lucky,” Taemon said. Had she noticed how weak he was?

“Lucky we weren’t killed,” Amma said between breaths.

“Cha, but look.” Taemon pointed to the saddle.

The boulder was now blocking the narrow canyon that led to it. Now the saddle was completely and indisputably impassible.
And
impossible.

And there was no squirrel for dinner.

For a few silent moments, they stared at the pile of rocks that separated them from the saddle.

“We were so close,” Taemon said. “Now how do we cross the mountain?”

“Maybe there’s another way,” Amma said.

“Somehow I doubt that.” One way over the mountain was hard enough to believe. More than one way seemed too much to hope for.

Amma sighed. “Well, then, maybe there’s a way around the rock slide. Another way to get to the saddle.”

“Maybe,” Taemon said. “Or maybe we’ll just waste a lot of time looking for something that doesn’t exist.”

“What do you suggest — that we turn around and go home?”

Taemon couldn’t believe that he was now the one doubting this plan and Amma was the one pushing them to keep searching. He couldn’t just give up now, not when they’d come this far. So what if his left arm didn’t work very well and he limped a little? He knew now not to use psi unless it was a matter of life or death; he could manage to keep going with a bad arm and a limp.

“No, of course not,” he said, getting unsteadily to his feet. “Let’s keep moving.”

They searched among the rocks for their knapsacks and found Taemon’s only a few yards away, covered in rocks and dirt. Amma’s was nowhere to be found.

“We’ll have to make do with what we have,” Taemon said, although it was a disheartening prospect: only one bedroll, half the food gone, and some of Drigg’s supplies lost as well.

Amma sat down and put her head in her hands. “All our food is gone.”

It took him a second to understand what she meant. “No, it’s not,” he said. “I saw that you tried to lighten my load. I repacked both packs. My knapsack has half of the food.”

But Amma shook her head. “I changed it back right after lunch, when you were off in the bushes. All the food was in my pack. And most of the tools.” She took a trembly breath. “I’m sorry.”

Taemon knew she shouldn’t be the one apologizing. The rock slide had been his fault, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. It wouldn’t fix anything, and it would only make her more worried about his injury. But they’d have to survive the next few days on whatever they could catch.

“I guess we’ll have to make sure we get some of those squirrels tonight,” Taemon said. The tools were another concern, but he didn’t bring it up.

Amma squared her shoulders. “You’re right. We can eat squirrels. And there are some edible plants. The snow hasn’t killed them off yet.”

“Right,” Taemon said. “Let’s get moving.” He hefted his knapsack, which, though it was filled with blankets, felt more like it was filled with rocks. He forced his numb feet to move forward. They had to go down the mountain in order to look for a way around the rock slide. But going
down
meant they would eventually have to go
up
again. He wondered if he could manage it.

Amma was unusually quiet, and Taemon wished he could think of something to lift her spirits.

They came to a stream and a little meadow covered in wildflowers with tiny star-shaped orange blossoms. It was enough to lift anyone’s spirits.

“Let’s camp here for the night,” Taemon said. “Maybe that stream has fish we can catch.”

“Good idea,” Amma said. “Camping, that is. But there won’t be any fish in that stream.”

“How do you know?” Taemon asked.

“It’s too shallow, and the water’s moving too fast.” She laughed and jabbed him in the ribs, which he was glad he couldn’t feel. “You’re such a city boy. Why don’t you build a fire and get some water? I’ll go set the snares.”

She left with the snares and a basket, and Taemon struggled to open his pack. He had no feeling in his fingertips or his feet, and everything on his left side from his shoulder to his foot was numb. He told himself he just needed some time to get over his last psi episode.

After fumbling around inside his knapsack, he discovered that the tinderbox was missing. And the water bottles. And the cook pot. How would they get water? Or build a fire? Even if they caught a squirrel, how would they cook it?

Skies, he was so tired. He couldn’t think of what to do. He needed a rest. Just a little rest while Amma was hunting squirrels.

He lay down with his pack as a pillow and fell asleep immediately.

Amma’s voice jolted him awake: “No squirrel yet, but I found wild asparagus and some clover.”

She stopped when she saw him. “No fire? No water? What happened?”

“Sorry,” Taemon said, rubbing his eyes. “There’s no tinderbox. I couldn’t find the bottles. And I guess I fell asleep.”

Amma’s shoulders sagged. “I forgot about the tinderbox. Let me see if there’s something else we can use.” She laid the plants she’d gathered on some clean leaves, then rummaged through the knapsack.

Taemon tried to rub some feeling into his hands. When he stood up, he lost his balance and had to lean against the nearest tree.

“What’s wrong?” Amma asked.

“My leg . . .”

“Must have been the rock slide. You could’ve twisted your ankle when you slipped.”

“Maybe I can walk it off.” He took a couple steps forward, then stumbled.

“Skies, that’s not good.” Amma helped him sit down again. “It’s the same side as your bad arm, isn’t it? It’s getting worse.”

Taemon shrugged. He’d had the same thought.

“How are you going to walk?”

“I can walk. I just need a sturdy stick, something to support myself on that side. I’ll be okay.”

“All right. Maybe that’ll work.”

While Amma built the fire, Taemon unpacked the bedroll and separated the layers to make two thin bedrolls. After that, he sat there feeling useless and guilty. He shouldn’t have used psi. The rock slide was his fault. And he’d made himself weaker in the process, which made things harder for Amma.

He took his scarf out and laid it across his lap. He traced a hand over the nubbly yarn. Green, blue, orange, and brown — there was no pattern to speak of, just jagged patches of color. When Challis had given him the scarf, he’d thought the colors were garish. But now he saw how appropriate they were. Brown like the rocks that jutted out from the mountainside. Green like the pine trees. Orange like the tiny wildflowers that covered the meadow. Blue like the stream. The only color in the scarf that wasn’t in the landscape around them was a thin, continuous line of silver metallic thread that meandered through each of the other colors.