Page 108 of Starside

You must have seen a shred of your strength in me, I continue. I will find that shred and make it grow.

I sink deeper into my stance. I will not fall over. I will not collapse. I will not stand down. Hard things prove my strength. I will be as unbreakable as my blade.

I repeat it over and over and over.

Just when I think I’ve reached the dregs of my strength, there is more. The well within me is deeper than I ever knew. I learn that only after hours of trembling, of holding on. Of standing firm.

And maybe, just maybe, that is what Raker is trying to show me.

It’s still dark outside when his voice cuts through the silence of the cave. “Enough. Go to bed, Aris.”

I nearly collapse onto the floor. Raker seems to know it, because I can hear his deep sigh.

My eyes are closed before my head even settles against the stone.

Raker doesn’t acknowledge me the next morning. Or during the hours we spend trekking through the sinking rot.

But when we arrive at our shelter for the night, he gives me a new position. Long guard. Extending my sword forward, in front of my body. With both hands, since I still can’t lift it with one.

Then he leaves to hunt.

My arms are sore and aching from the night before, but my mind is stronger. My focus is unwavering. This time, I cycle through those ten memories. The ones I cherish. The ones where I was the happiest.

And that happiness … it is so much stronger than the pain. It is like Starside steel meeting lesser metal. Shattering everything in its path.

My mind narrows to them. To my purpose. To why I’m doing this.

I startle when I notice Raker leaning against a tree, watching me. The sun has dipped low. I’ve been in this position for over an hour. I raise a brow in question. Enough?

He dips his head in a nod, and I thank the stars as I stumble forward. I drop my sword against the dirt in front of my boots and lean on my knees, panting. I only look up when he passes me, moving toward the mouth of yet another obsidian-blocked cave. “Nothing?”

He shakes his head. My berries are gone. The canteen he gave me is empty.

Inside the cave, Raker sighs as he drops his stuff onto the floor.

“Draw the map,” he says. It both relieves and scares me that he sounds tired. If Raker is fading … if he is beginning to feel the effects of thirst and hunger, what chance do I have?

Arms still shaking, I carve the map into the stone with my sword, making faint scratches.

More of the same. Which I now know is just endless nothing.

Raker curses.

“We should travel north,” I say. “Off the path. There are towns.”

I expect Raker to ignore me. To stay silent while he comes up with his own plan, or to admonish me for wanting to veer from the quest.

But all he does is nod, before disappearing into the shadows of the cave.

This is the last time Raker is ever going to fucking listen to me.

The village is abandoned.

The rot has infected it like a disease, mold spores eating through the sides of houses, thorned vines snaking through windows.

“The map, it—” Is clearly outdated. Raker doesn’t spare me a glance as he walks past me. My throat tightens. Is this the moment he realizes my memorization of the map isn’t as helpful as he thought?

Seventeen days into the Questral … and we aren’t even halfway to the Land of the Gods. If we plan on returning to the gates before the fifty days are up, we have to go faster. Or find a shortcut. We can’t afford to make these kinds of mistakes. I come to a stop, half expecting him to turn. To slice me to ribbons and take my sword. But all he does is stalk through the town, to the other side.