Archon (9 page)

“Finally!” Amma said as she sat back. She’d gotten a small fire started, Skies only knew how. “We don’t have anything to cook, but at least we won’t freeze.”

Amma divided up the plants, and Taemon started chewing on an asparagus spear. “Not bad.”

“Still,” Amma said, “roasted squirrel would have been nice.”

“I’d rather eat asparagus than squirrel,” Taemon said, hoping to lift the gloom.

“Oh?” Amma grinned. “Would you rather eat a maggot or an earthworm?”

Taemon grimaced. “Neither! Don’t tell me that’s dessert.”

Amma laughed. “No. I mean if you had to. If you were starving and had to choose. Maggot or earthworm?”

“Earthworm, definitely,” Taemon answered. He thought for a moment. “Would you rather eat a jellyfish or a moth the size of your hand?”

They played would-you-rather until the daylight faded; then they set up the bedrolls under the shelter of some low-lying pine branches. Just before they went to sleep, Taemon said, “Tomorrow will be better. I’ll find a stick to help me walk. And we’ll find another way to the saddle.”

“And we’ll catch some squirrels,” Amma added.

Taemon laughed. “That’s the spirit.” He pulled the blanket tight around his shoulders. “Tomorrow everything will be better.”

But the next morning, they woke up to find two feet of snow covering the mountain.

The blindingly white world was ghastily beautiful. Low-hanging clouds shrouded the mountaintop. The air felt brittle, as if it would shatter with a sharp blow. The whole mountain seemed hushed with a sacred stillness.

“Skies, I’m freezing,” Amma said through chattering teeth. They already had all their sweaters on, so they pulled their sleeping blankets around their shoulders. Taemon tied his scarf around his chin to cover his nearly frozen ears.

They were able to build a small fire with some dry sticks and dead branches they’d found under the trees, untouched by snow.

“How are we going to do this?” Amma said. “You can barely walk, and this snow is going to make it even harder.”

“I just need a walking stick or a crutch,” Taemon said. “I can get by with that, snow or no snow.”

“Even if we find a stick for you,” she said, “I don’t know where we’re going. The snow makes everything look different. I’m having a hard time getting my bearings. Aren’t you?”

Taemon looked up the white mountain slope. Amma was right: even though these were the same views as yesterday, everything looked unfamiliar under two feet of snow.

“I’m not sure it’s wise to go on,” Amma said.

“Are you saying we should turn back?”

“We have no water. No supplies. No food. Now that the snow is here, the green plants will be frozen. The squirrels will begin their hibernation. If that’s not enough, you have a serious injury. We don’t know where we’re going or even if there’s still a way to get there.” She turned and looked him in the eye. “We could die out here, Taemon.”

“We have to at least try,” Taemon said. “Can we just try?”

She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. Nudging the snow with her foot, she took a deep breath and blew it out. “One try. One. If this doesn’t work, we turn back. Deal?”

Taemon nodded. “If it doesn’t work, you can turn back.”

Amma shook her head. “That’s not the deal. The deal is if it doesn’t work we
both
turn back. I’m not leaving you out here.”

“Okay, okay. Deal,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Amma grabbed his good arm. “Not so fast. Elbow vow.”

“What?”

“Come on. Elbow vow. Didn’t you do that as a kid?”

“Um, no,” Taemon said.

“Here, bend your arm up like this. Good. Now clap your hand with mine . . .”

Taemon tried to follow along as Amma chanted. “Elbow, elbow. Hand. Head. I’ll be true until I’m dead.”

It was an elaborate ritual that ended with Taemon’s palm resting on Amma’s forehead, and hers on his.

Amma nodded. “Now it’s official.”

The first task was to find a walking stick for Taemon. After several attempts, they finally found something that worked. In a way. It was hard to hold on to the stick without any feeling in his hand. The cold only made it worse.

And the snow. The snow made everything colder, slipperier, trickier. Every step meant wading through snow up to their knees. Not only that, but it was also hard to tell what was under the snow. More than once, Taemon stepped on a concealed rock and lost his balance.

Amma went first and broke a path, but even following in her footsteps was difficult. And the effort of breaking the path was clearly exhausting. They struggled forward for over two hours, sometimes uphill, sometimes descending a bit to find a better path around obstacles. As they came around a group of trees, Amma stopped suddenly. Taemon came up beside her.

“What is —? Oh.”

Their campsite. The place where they’d slept under the low branches. The blackened fire circle where they’d stood and made an elbow vow that morning. All that work, and they were back where they started.

“I tried,” said Amma. “I really did. But everything looks different covered with snow. I’m not even sure where the saddle is anymore.” She shook her head slowly. “Skies, I’m so cold.”

“Here,” Taemon said, removing his scarf and giving it to Amma.

“Thanks.” She wrapped it around her neck and chin. “I hate to say it, but I think it’s time to admit defeat.”

Her words didn’t register. He was staring at the scarf. The orange, the blue, the green, and that thread of silver.

“Do you mind if I . . . ?” He reached out, unwrapped the scarf, and took it from Amma.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Taemon held up the scarf and traced the blue yarn with his finger. It looked something like a lightning bolt, the way it zigzagged and split. It reminded him of the river they had been following. Yes, the river. And the orange patch would be the meadow. It was situated perfectly, just below the river. In fact . . .

Taemon held the scarf at arm’s length. He tilted it one way, then the other, lowered it, then lifted it again.

“What are you doing? Has the cold finally gotten to your brain?” Amma tried to sound teasing, but he could hear genuine concern in her voice.

“We have a map! The scarf. The scarf is a map!”

Amma frowned. “Quit flubbing around. If you’re going klonky, then we really do have to go back.”

“No, look.” Taemon showed her how everything matched perfectly with the landscape. “This silver line is the way we have to go. It will take us over the mountain!”

“Let me see,” Amma said, and Taemon held the scarf out for her. He pointed out the rivers and the meadow. “Does it look like the map you remember?”

“No,” Amma said. “That map didn’t have any colors. It didn’t show the meadow or the trees, just the elevation lines. And it showed the path going through the saddle. This silver thread goes much father north.” Amma shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Challis doesn’t have her psi anymore. How would she know the way to get over the mountain? And even if she did, why didn’t she just tell us the scarf was a map?”

“She made the scarf before the Fall,” Taemon said. “But she didn’t give it to me until the morning I left. I’m not even sure she knew what it was, or why she needed to give it to me then. But who cares? We know a new way to go now. We can make it!”

Amma let out a sigh. “We had a deal. One try, then we turn back.”

“This is different,” said Taemon. “Now we have a map.”

She glared at him. “We have a scarf. I’m still not convinced it’s a map. Besides, can you even follow that thing now that everything’s covered in snow?”

Taemon nodded. “We can use this camp as a reference point. We know the meadow was over that way,” he said, pointing, “which means we need to go
that
way.” He pointed away from the meadow and away from the saddle. “It’s a different path, Amma. Maybe it’s easier.”

“But still, the snow . . . I don’t know. . . .”

“One last try,” Taemon said. “The very last, I promise. If this doesn’t work, we go back. No matter what.”

Amma stood there for a moment with her mouth pressed in a thin line. “All right,” she finally said. “But this is without a doubt the absolute last try.”

“Elbow vow,” said Taemon. And this time he did the chanting.

This was it. If this attempt failed, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to persuade Amma to try again. Either they made it across the mountain by following the route knitted into the scarf or they went back home. And only the Heart of the Earth could help Da then.

“I don’t know about this,” Amma said. “Shouldn’t we be going
toward
the Republik instead of away from it?”

Taemon shrugged. He tried to steady his stride, planting the walking stick firmly each time. It made him feel determined. Resolved. He was going to get over the mountain. He had to. “Maybe heading away from it will lead us to a place where we can go toward it.”

Amma grunted. “I’m not sure that makes sense, but we’ll see.”

Taemon calmed his mind and let the lopsided rhythm of his stride lull his thoughts.

They walked and walked, this time with Taemon in front, navigating with the scarf, and Amma following. After an hour or so, Taemon’s confidence began to wane. According to the scarf map, they were nearing the end of the silver line, yet they were clearly nowhere near the top of the mountain. They were in a long, narrow valley with a thousand little nooks and crannies. Taemon stopped to look around and compare his surroundings with the scarf. Amma looked over his shoulder.

“I think the scarf is telling us to go this way.” Amma pointed to a pile of boulders that looked vaguely like a nappy brown spot on the scarf. “But it’s a dead end.”

Taemon longed to use clairvoyance to check for some kind of hidden passage, but he knew what would happen if he did. He would weaken himself to the point of not being able to walk at all. That would be no help.

“Let’s see,” Taemon said, holding the scarf this way, then that.

“Look, the silver line goes here, and then it just ends,” Amma said, pointing over his shoulder. “That can’t be right. I hate to say this, Taemon, but sometimes a scarf is just a scarf.”

Taemon looked at the rocks, then at the scarf, then at the rocks again. He hobbled over to a boulder and tried to climb on top, but his legs weren’t strong enough. He looked back at Amma. “Could you give me a boost?”

She frowned, but she walked over and laced her hands together to boost him up. He scrabbled awkwardly over the boulder, then jumped down — though it was more of a fall than a jump — on the other side, taking care to bear most of his weight on his right leg. He looked around. Rocks, rocks, and more rocks. His heart dropped.

But just as he was about to climb back over the boulder, he noticed an odd shadow between two other boulders. Was that a . . . ?

“Amma! Come quick! I think I found something.”

She clambered over the boulder and slid next to him.

“It’s a cave,” she said, sounding unimpressed.

“Maybe,” Taemon agreed, but his gut was telling him it was more than that. When he stepped inside, the darkness made it hard to see much of anything. He stumbled over a large rock and had to catch himself.

“That must have hurt,” Amma said.

“Not that much,” he answered. “I can’t feel very much in that foot.” As he pushed himself to his feet, he realized that it was not a rock that had tripped him, but a metal box.

“Take a look at this.” Taemon pushed the box toward the door of the cave, where there was more light. He tried the latch and found it wasn’t locked.

“Wait,” Amma said. “That might not be a good idea. We have no idea what that is or who put it there.”

Taemon turned to face her. “This could tell us about the people who’ve traveled this way before.”

“All right,” Amma agreed, stepping closer. “But be careful.”

Taemon lifted the lid.

“Supplies,” she said. “Food, bottles of water, some blankets.”

Taemon grabbed the blanket, shook it, and spread it out in the weak sunlight. “Psi woven. This blanket is from Deliverance.”

Amma nodded. “Those bottles look like they’re from the city, too.”

“I don’t understand,” Taemon said. “I thought my da was kidnapped by the Republik. Why would he have brought supplies with him — supplies enough for a dozen men?”