Page 19 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

The stunning sight makes it worth the potential of one breaking off and impaling you while you stroll.

The city itself is a work of art with the facades covered with carved birds in flight and climbing ivy and flowers, both stone and living. Some are painted in bright colors to stand stark against the mountain base around them. Some are left bare and equally beautiful in a more natural grandeur.

Locane watches at me with irritation, breaking me out of my trance-like state. “We are headed to visit family in Quinndohs.”

“It isn’t common for people to travel between Brhadir and Quinndohs.”

“No, Ellya, it isn’t common for people to travel through the dead Plains of Ire. There are plenty of ports, both along the coast and the Salt River, that travel between. Now, that is enough.”

Digging through the murky sludge of my mind for anything on these ports, I come up short. It seems my knowledge of the geography and infrastructures of our Continent only serves me so far. “I thought The Capital in Quinndohs had the only ports on the coast?”

“Again, no. The Bay of Quinndohs has the only ports that ships from the Mother Continent sail and trade through, given that the Great Trench has the safest passage of waters. Any more questions?” Locane’s patience is wearing very thin.

“Why am I barefoot?” I ask after a quick second of thought.

“Because you foolishly lost your shoes when you took them off to rest for the night and could not place them in the morning,”Locane says through gritted teeth. “That is enough. If anyone asks questions, I will do the talking.”

“I’m really not sure that’s a good idea based on your reaction to seeing one farmer. Behave like that with someone suspicious of us and you might as well seal my fate in that dungeon.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be,” I tell him.

We continue along the quiet road. With every step, the tension in Locane’s shoulders ratchets tighter and tighter. That noxious smell of my fear blankets over me and invades my senses. The only other time I have been this afraid on this whole journey was the day I encountered Locane. Inexplicable dread sits in my gut like hot stones, weighing down my steps and making my stomach churn.

The sun creeps higher across the sky with a fiery haze. The discomfort of the hooded cloak does nothing to help my overall unease. The road winds on closer to our destination, and each step is more reluctant and forced. The sounds of life ahead become apparent as

I wipe my sweating brow with an equally clammy palm.

A group of three women, each wearing flowy dresses and carrying baskets, walks towards us. One of them smiles at Locane, her grin expanding further as she takes in his striking features. He gives her an arrogant half smile back, and I smack his arm.

Her attention turns to me before she glances back towards Locane to see the face of utter rage he offers me. She averts her eyes quickly and picks up her pace—avoiding us as we pass directly by each other.

“What was that for?” he asks, rubbing the spot I hit.

“I’m supposed to be your wife, remember? Not a very convincing story if you’re making eyes at every woman you come across,” I scold.

“Don’t be dramatic. It was just one.”

“Gods, you’re terrible at this! I’m going to find a quiet place to rest while you gather your supplies.” I veer off the path, moving along for several minutes. The ground is undisturbed in the area I choose, and I am confident that I can lay low and not be spotted.

Locane scans our surroundings, unsure. “Maybe a little further in.”

“Just be quick. And try to behave yourself,husband.”

Locane gives me a small knife and makes me reassure him, again and again, that I’ll stay in this same spot until he returns, adamant that he will be gone no longer than a couple hours. He shocks me when he squeezes my arm affectionately and whispers, “Stay safe.”

Locane takes off through the trees.

Tension lifts from my body when he leaves: a massive weight I didn’t know I was carrying. I’m tempted to take off without him. He infuriates me to no end, and he’s obviously keeping secrets. An internal battle rages with my distrust for Locane, my desire to get the answers that he carries, as well as my churning fear over being alone again with no plans.

I pace back and forth as I contemplate what to do.

If I leave now, will he chase after me or just let me go? And where would I go? I have no coin. And the idea of going back into the deep woods of the mountains sounds less and less appealing the more I consider it.

I’m tired. I’m so tired. I just want to rest. I want to rest my body and rest my mind. My thoughts are momentarily distracted by thatinsistent tug that pulls deep in my gut. Struggling to ignore it, I continue to pace.

Too much time goes by.