Page 29 of Moonstriker (The Summertide Chronicles #4)

Chapter 29

Kit

Under most circumstances, mountain climbing wasn’t my least favorite thing to do.

It was soothing, in a lot of ways.

There were steps to remember, sure, but if you did them and did them correctly, then you were fine. It wasn’t like dealing with people, who lied and prevaricated about...well, everything.

While Aubrey had been stubborn about the ankle thing that first day, climbing in general was mostly like dealing with him. He was stubborn, yes, but also honest and forthright.

If the path looked dangerous, it was. If it didn’t, it usually wasn’t. Either way, the mountain didn’t lie about it.

I wondered if the bond would be that way with Aubrey and Slate, too. Maybe it was best I wasn’t bonding the mountain—it would be an enormous disappointment if it turned out Slate was a compulsive liar.

Aubrey wasn’t so offended about being tied to my side as the first time. No, if anything he stuck closer to me than the rope demanded, leaning into me, sometimes wrapping an arm around my waist or twining our fingers together, when the path was easy enough to allow that.

I didn’t pull away, and I couldn’t figure that out.

I always pulled away.

One night, that was enough for me.

But I was pretty sure I hadn’t gotten Aubrey’s best performance last night, when he was exhausted from hiking and bonding, and my mind kept going back to next time.

Next time he’d be well rested, and we’d spend the whole night fucking.

Next time, we’d have a bed, not a couple of sleeping bags strewn on the rocky ground, leaving sharp bits poking slightly into my backside.

Next time.

In my pocket, my phone buzzed, and I stopped so fast that Aubrey had to grab onto a nearby tree to keep from toppling over. I winced and reached out to him, helping him steady.

Me.

I stopped to help someone who wasn’t one of my siblings. Or Fawn Dawnchaser, I supposed, but honestly, what kind of dickbag would ever be mean to her?

Aubrey didn’t even seem to notice, just waited, watching me, so I pulled my phone from my pocket. Still no connection, but there must have been, for at least a second, because there was a missed call and a text from Frost.

Hope you’re okay. We’re making no headway with the mountain, and Mother is getting stubborn about it, so we’re going back up this morning. I’m starting to worry nothing is going to work. Maybe you should take Aubrey and leave.

I stared at that last sentence for a moment, until Aubrey leaned in, grabbing my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Turning the phone so that he could see the message, I swallowed hard. “Frost is giving up. It must be going very badly.”

Aubrey scowled at that, then shoved himself away from the tree as I shoved my phone back into my pocket without responding to my brother.

“Then we’d better get moving,” Aubrey said, jaw set stubbornly.

Like we weren’t already moving faster than he should be on his ankle. Like he wasn’t wincing slightly with every step. My makeshift splint wasn’t nearly enough to do what needed to be done, and by the time we got there, he was going to need surgery—or worse, maybe we were doing unfixable damage.

He bit his lip, staring off into space, and nodded. “I can’t...it doesn’t seem like it’s the same as everyone I know talking to their stones. I can’t just mentally poke him and say something. But I have the sense he’s annoyed, and getting more annoyed. There’s a buzz in the air, and it’s wrong.”

Why in the hells hadn’t I just gone and grabbed Aubrey months ago, dragging him up here to see the mountain?

Because he wasn’t ready then , Nikka pointed out. He wasn’t ready until now. You couldn’t have even taken him up the night before we started this. He was only ready now .

We’d had this conversation before, of course, but I still didn’t fully comprehend. It didn’t make sense to me why Aubrey wouldn’t be ready one day, and would be the next. People didn’t change that much, that fast.

You really do .

I sighed, wrapping an arm around Aubrey and starting up the trail again. “Lean on me,” I insisted. “I don’t want you hurting yourself any more than necessary getting up there. You’re going to need that ankle for years to come, you know.”

He sent me a sly, sidelong smile and nodded. “Harder to manhandle you with only one working ankle.”

My face flamed bright red, and I didn’t meet his eye. “If that’s what keeps you focused on staying healthy then...it would be, yes. Your brain also comes into that, so don’t let the mountain turn it into goo.”

That set him to laughing, though it cut off a moment later in a pained hiss.

Why the hell didn’t you warn me about this, Neek?

Honestly? she asked, hesitant like she rarely was.

Of course.

Her voice was smaller than usual when she answered. I don’t understand what’s happening right now. I saw him doing this, but I don’t know why he’s doing it. I didn’t...I don’t like reminding you that you’re my first human, and I don’t really understand you all that well .

His ankle is broken , I said, and only at her horrified shiver did I realize that broken didn’t mean the same thing to a stone as it did to me. To her, broken meant death. It meant permanence. Human bones break, but they can heal too , I added quickly. He’s not dying. Not dead .

You’re sure?

Yes, completely sure. I won’t let him die .

She sighed, and it was sheer relief. I didn’t see him dying, but I don’t see everything. It’s all spotty here, because too much of it depends on things other people haven’t decided yet. It’s like having a dozen random pages from a book and not knowing how they fit together. Plus humans are always confusing .

It was my turn to sigh, and Aubrey turned to look at me, an eyebrow raised.

I shrugged, careful not to dislodge him. “I’m trying to explain to Nikka how broken bones can heal. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that stones aren’t human, and they don’t really understand concepts we take for granted.”

He cocked his head, nodding. “That makes sense. Broken isn’t going to heal, for a stone, so it’s a pretty big difference.”

“She’s also pretty reliant on seeing the future, because she can usually see a lot, but I guess right now it’s a little up in the air, so it’s?—”

Kit, there’s something you need to know , Nikka interrupted. That was odd for her, so I didn’t keep talking, just waited for her to explain. I’m not completely sure what it means, but in a second, Aubrey is ?—

“A second,” apparently, had been quite literal, because as Nikka continued, Aubrey’s hands flew up and the rest of him went tumbling down.

I activated my speed as he went down, grabbing first the rope between us, and then Aubrey himself around the waist.

Was he having another seizure?

He didn’t seem to be, though. No, his eyes were wide and shocked, and his breathing hard, but he wasn’t trembling with anything other than shock and fear.

And pain.

He’d slipped on some loose gravel, I realized, and his ankle hadn’t been able to take the sudden change in traction. He’d gone down like a ton of bricks.

Aubrey sat there for a moment, biting his lip, not crying out or speaking at all, and I worried maybe he was having that other kind of seizure, where the person just went blank instead of trembling, but after a second, his shoulders slumped and head dropped, and he sighed.

Sorry , Nikka whispered.

It hadn’t been her fault she hadn’t warned us in time. After all, without her trying to warn me, things would have turned out exactly the same.

Aubrey lifted his head again, meeting my eye. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you both sorry?”

He frowned at that. “She doesn’t have to apologize for me being clumsy. She’s not responsible for that.” Then he glared down at his ankle before looking back up to me. “But I’m pretty sure it’s broken for real now. I felt a crack when I went down.”

I cringed at the thought. Hoping it had been one of the sticks I’d splinted the ankle with, I went down on my knees in front of him and checked them. But no, it wasn’t that. It was definitely the ankle itself, hot to the touch and swelling even more under my hands.

I reached for the pack and gave Aubrey more ibuprofen and water, in hopes of slowing that process a little, but there was no denying facts anymore. He was in no shape to be walking at all, let alone hiking the mountainside.