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“You mentioned that the rangers were around for centuries,” I say. “That would make Wade—”
“Very old,” she finishes. “It’s one of the more peculiar things about the plains. Age, it seems, has a lot to do with where you’re from. That’s another thing that Anastasia will probably be able to explain a lot better than me.”
I wonder what Anastasia actually plans on sharing with me. Wade’s promise to tell me what she won’t makes me think that the answer is not very much. Or maybe his promise had more to do with whether or not she would tell me the truth. I wish he were still around. I need to try and find him if I can.
My next thought is to start asking questions about Anastasia, but the rising of smoke in the distance as we turn a corner grabs my attention. Dread immediately fills my heart, but none of the soldiers seem concerned, Minerva included.
“Relax,” she says calmly. “It’s just steam from the river.”
The pathway we are on slopes up gradually toward a ridge that the smoke is rising from. When we reach its top, which overlooks the largest canyon I’ve seen so far, I’m able to understand exactly what she means. This canyon, unlike the others, is filled not only with a river of lava, but also one of water. The river is small, at least relative to the Lethe, and runs along an elevated portion of the canyon on its far side. A lava trench forms closer to where we stand and runs parallel to the river, lying hundreds of feet further down.
The river itself is kept from flowing down into the trench by a wall of rock that separates it from the rest of the canyon, but waterfalls pour down into the lava through small holes in the rock, evenly spaced ones that appear to have been drilled. The whole canyon is a wonder to behold, and I stop to admire it.
“Even this desolate land has places of beauty,” Minerva comments from behind me. “The holes were made anciently by those who lived here before Sanctuary came into being. During seasons flooding, the smoke from the overflowing river would make the path impassable. It’s better to constantly have a little smoke than brief periods of blinding whiteness.”
Our march turns west along the south side of the canyon. After some time, a bridge comes to view in the distance, one of stone that looks much sturdier than the causeways that we’ve been traveling on. The broken roadway it connects to on our side curves northwest with the canyon and is also much more elegant than the pathways we have been treading. It must lead somewhere important.
“Where does that go?” I ask, pointing down that way.
“To the marshes,” Minerva answers. “That’s where Sanctuary gets most of its meager supplies. These canyons separate the northern and southern lands, but they also cut us off from everyone. The marshes are our only hunting and foraging grounds, but they are also filled with the plains’ most dangerous creatures. You should avoid them at all cost.”
Once we cross the bridge, the roadway cuts directly toward Sanctuary by using a tunnel dug right through the canyon wall. My heart stops once we get to its other side and I see our next obstacle. As the road reaches the mountain, it narrows to the width of a person, meandering up the mountainside in a thin trail that ends at an entryway in the distant cliffs.
“How do carts make it up?” I ask nervously.
“They don’t anymore,” Minerva laments. “The way up fell into disrepair a long time ago. The founders of this place had the means to fix it, but we don’t. It used to be just as wide as the bridge. You can still see some of the metal supports.”
My eyes scour the pathway, and sure enough, beams stick out in a few places, some still holding up small portions of the old road, which a
ppears to have been made of some kind of dark cement. Enough of the road remains that I can imagine, at least to some extent, how it must have once looked.
“So how do we get there?”
“Carefully,” the soldier leading us says, smirking as he walks over to stand by me. “That’s why you’ll be with me.”
He then grabs my arm, firmly but not forcefully, and nudges me toward the ledge next to the start of the pathway. I don’t think he is strong enough to be much more than an annoyance with how scrawny he is, and that makes it hard to believe that I will be any safer with him than with Minerva, who is herself much taller and stronger. Then again, his lack of size will also give him much more space to work with.
Before we begin, he places a simple harness, little more than a small belt, around me, connecting it to a metal wire that runs along the narrow pathway. I lean forward and look over the ledge as he finishes. It is a dead drop into a wide gorge.
When he’s done, he doesn’t put on a harness of his own but instead springs right up the path without hesitation. I follow him as best as I can using metal grips that run along the path to help keep me balanced and tucked snugly against the mountain. We move much faster than I’d expected, giving me a false sense of security that flees the instant a strong gust of wind comes rushing by, nearly ripping me off of the ledge.
‘It’s just like
climbing at home,’ I encourage myself as I hug the rocks in front of me.
I close my eyes for a moment and try to calm my frazzled mind. When I reopen them, I look back up the pathway and find that my guide is too far ahead to be of any help should I slip. For being in charge of my well-being, he’s not doing that great of a job. Then again, he doesn’t really act like he cares.
Moving quicker than I probably should, I gradually close the distance between us until I reach him again halfway up. He glances at me when I do, giving me a disapproving scowl.
“You know, you don’t look much like a princess.”
The disdainful expression I return prompts him to keep climbing. It’s true, though. All of my sisters had a natural beauty about them with dark curly hair, rich complexion, large hazel eyes, and strong features, whereas I ended up with a much plainer look, lighter wavier hair, rounder cheeks, and browner eyes. I didn’t mind at the time because it resulted in a lot less attention, not that the youngest of four princesses gets much anyway. It was nice to be able travel in and around the city and blend in, to not be seen as an heir of the kingdom.
Still, how the soldier said it makes me feel like he is disappointed, as though I am not living up to something he expects me to be. Wade suggested that people won’t know or care who I am in this place, but it doesn’t seem like that will be the case. I’m afraid of what that might mean for me.
Once all of us reach the top, I rejoin Minerva, who immediately smiles at me when our eyes meet.
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” she says.
