comfort and safety. I was drained of energy, my shoes were tattered and my feet throbbed with every step, my stomach was protesting loudly and my water flask had dried up half an hour ago.
The walk had taken me a good hour longer than I had anticipated, and I stumbled up the path to the front door of the house with an air of wretchedness quite unlike anything I had ever before experienced. I tried the door handle only to discover it was locked, and a strangled cry escaped me. Resisting the urge to collapse then and there, I limped around to the back entrance to find that it also was closed tight. I wrenched at the door, but it would not budge, and I finally leaned against it, giving in to tears. I had been certainthat my trials would end once I had reached my goal. Feeling lost and alone, I sank down on the back steps, burying my face in my arms, knowing my crying would serve no purpose other than to vent my despair, for there was no one around to hear me or help me.
I was not aware of the passage of time until the dryness of my throat made me long for a drink and I raised my head to see the purplish blue of evening spreading across the sky. I would have to go soon if I wanted to fill my flask from the river, for darkness would shortly cover the land. After that, I would return to the house, trusting that Steldor would not be so vindictive as to leave me out here through the night.
Despite the tenderness of my legs and feet, I made my way down the sloping hill atop which the home sat to the edge of the forest, where I spotted the path that I had trekked many times with Semari, Miranna and occasionally Narian. I followed the winding trail, now and then stumbling over a tree root hidden by the shadows, until I emerged into the narrow clearing that bordered the Recorah. I hurried to kneel at the riverâs edge and splashed some of the refreshing liquid into my mouth and over my face to wash away the remnants of sweat and grime, finally drinking from my cupped hands. The water was cold, and after refilling my flask, I sat down and dipped my swollen feet, ragged shoes and all, into its swirling eddies. I immediately felt the pull of the current, surprised by its force even near the Recorahâs bank, but the chill brought welcome relief.
The air was losing its warmth with the setting of the sun, and a shiver ran down my back. I knew I should return to the house but could not bring myself to do so, for the memories I found in this place were too strong to ignore. I gazed downriver and saw the spot where Narian had rescued me after my fall into the raging water last summer, pullingme into his arms for the first time. My throat tightened, and I bit my lip to suppress the emotions that were rising inside me. I stood and gingerly walked to the boulders, then hoisted myself atop their craggy surfaces, maintaining a safe distance from the water. Narian would not be here to save me if I fell.
I looked across the Recorah, the rushing and crashing sounds of the mighty river as it tumbled over rocks and broken branches filling my ears. The thinning trees on the opposite bank looked like eerie sentinels in the dwindling light of day, and beyond them, some distance away, I could make out Cokyrian campfires. It was strange to be close enough to see where Hytanicaâs adversaries ate and slept and watched, awaiting the right moment to strike. The thought that I might be in peril this near to enemy lines flashed through my mind, but the evening was tranquil and it seemed to me that the Cokyrians were enjoying a night of peace.
A noise from the woods at my back startled me, and my sense of security fell away. It was just an animal, I assured myself, only to realize that wild animals presented risk. While I had not spent much time in the forest, I knew that wild boar and bear lived within it. What if an animal attacked me? My instinct was to scoot farther back on the boulder, but I was wary of meeting the river, which was probably more
The walk had taken me a good hour longer than I had anticipated, and I stumbled up the path to the front door of the house with an air of wretchedness quite unlike anything I had ever before experienced. I tried the door handle only to discover it was locked, and a strangled cry escaped me. Resisting the urge to collapse then and there, I limped around to the back entrance to find that it also was closed tight. I wrenched at the door, but it would not budge, and I finally leaned against it, giving in to tears. I had been certainthat my trials would end once I had reached my goal. Feeling lost and alone, I sank down on the back steps, burying my face in my arms, knowing my crying would serve no purpose other than to vent my despair, for there was no one around to hear me or help me.
I was not aware of the passage of time until the dryness of my throat made me long for a drink and I raised my head to see the purplish blue of evening spreading across the sky. I would have to go soon if I wanted to fill my flask from the river, for darkness would shortly cover the land. After that, I would return to the house, trusting that Steldor would not be so vindictive as to leave me out here through the night.
Despite the tenderness of my legs and feet, I made my way down the sloping hill atop which the home sat to the edge of the forest, where I spotted the path that I had trekked many times with Semari, Miranna and occasionally Narian. I followed the winding trail, now and then stumbling over a tree root hidden by the shadows, until I emerged into the narrow clearing that bordered the Recorah. I hurried to kneel at the riverâs edge and splashed some of the refreshing liquid into my mouth and over my face to wash away the remnants of sweat and grime, finally drinking from my cupped hands. The water was cold, and after refilling my flask, I sat down and dipped my swollen feet, ragged shoes and all, into its swirling eddies. I immediately felt the pull of the current, surprised by its force even near the Recorahâs bank, but the chill brought welcome relief.
The air was losing its warmth with the setting of the sun, and a shiver ran down my back. I knew I should return to the house but could not bring myself to do so, for the memories I found in this place were too strong to ignore. I gazed downriver and saw the spot where Narian had rescued me after my fall into the raging water last summer, pullingme into his arms for the first time. My throat tightened, and I bit my lip to suppress the emotions that were rising inside me. I stood and gingerly walked to the boulders, then hoisted myself atop their craggy surfaces, maintaining a safe distance from the water. Narian would not be here to save me if I fell.
I looked across the Recorah, the rushing and crashing sounds of the mighty river as it tumbled over rocks and broken branches filling my ears. The thinning trees on the opposite bank looked like eerie sentinels in the dwindling light of day, and beyond them, some distance away, I could make out Cokyrian campfires. It was strange to be close enough to see where Hytanicaâs adversaries ate and slept and watched, awaiting the right moment to strike. The thought that I might be in peril this near to enemy lines flashed through my mind, but the evening was tranquil and it seemed to me that the Cokyrians were enjoying a night of peace.
A noise from the woods at my back startled me, and my sense of security fell away. It was just an animal, I assured myself, only to realize that wild animals presented risk. While I had not spent much time in the forest, I knew that wild boar and bear lived within it. What if an animal attacked me? My instinct was to scoot farther back on the boulder, but I was wary of meeting the river, which was probably more
Similar Books
