Page 82 of Entwined Hearts

Kabir helps me find them. “They’re above it.”

Finally, I spot them sitting on a small, triangular-shaped ledge. For the first time all day, I can see Anya’s face. She looks terrified.

The last of the rock lands at the base of the cliff with aboom. It sends a cloud of what looks like smoke billowing upward.

“Was anyone hurt?” I ask, scanning the lower part of the face for signs of anyone else.

“No, everyone’s clear.”

An exhale rumbles out of my lungs, and I feel my shoulders curl forward.

That rockfall ispreciselywhat I was afraid of. They would have been torn from the face.

Fucking bloody hell. I set the binoculars down with shaking fingers.

Kabir watches me, his face tight. The binoculars rest in his lap. “That was close.”

I grimace.

“You look ready to hurl, dude.”

“I’m going up there,” I say.

“Where? The top? But they’ll summit before you can get there.”

He might be right, but I’m going to try.

Nothing is going to keep me away from her this time.

“Gimme your shoes,” I say.

Confusion passes over his face, but he’s quick to catch on. In seconds, he’s handing over his sneakers. I cinch them tight—they’re a bit big, but I can’t get up that scramble barefoot.

I run to the trailhead, my thoughts alternating between terror and impatience. Kabir might be right—I want more than anything to be there when they top out, but it’s a long scramble to the top. Pushing my legs for more speed, I reach the parking lot and sprint across the blacktop—now coated in a fine layer of dust and small pebbles—to the narrow dirt trail. The cars here are covered in a thick layer of rock dust like they’ve been here for a hundred years. It creates a surreal, apocalyptic mood. I bet the park will close this trailhead soon.

As I hurry up toward the gully on the west side of the face, I rehearse what I’m going to say to her, but everything sounds inadequate. I only need to hold her, to assure her I want her in my life.

But what about Jake? Will I have to confront him? What about Dragen’s Tarn and the secret I’m keeping?

The path zigzags up the grassy apron below the gully. Over my left shoulder, the low sun reaches through the trees, casting a soft light over the ground. I realize that I’ll need a headlamp soon, and I don’t have one. Everything focuses tighter, to my legs pumping hard, to my swinging arms, to my heaving lungs.

The rock sliding down the face replays in my mind, devastating me. It doesn’t matter that she’s okay, that she escaped, because it was too close to being a disaster. I suppress the panic building at the thought of watching her disappear inside that cloud of falling rock.It didn’t happen, I remind myself.

But I almost lost her. And the fact she’s up there with Jake right now means I might lose her still.

The path narrows, becoming choked with boulders. In the remaining thin light, I strain to see the most efficient way through them, skirting some, high stepping over others, and scaling the rest. It feels like I’m standing still even though my brow is beaded with sweat and my legs are burning. That fine layer of dust I noticed in the parking lot is everywhere. I feel it inside my lungs, making it hard to breathe. Up, over, around, I move, like following a giant maze.

Are they nearing the summit? Leaving when I did means I missed watching them tackle the crux. It’s as hard as they come, even for someone with two healthy ankles. Somehow, I know Anya will push through. Where did she learn to be so tough? So determined?

The light shifts, and I glance over my shoulder before hoisting myself onto a giant boulder. A bright orange beam shoots upward, the last of the sun’s rays. Darkness will soon be upon me. I have to reach the top by then.

Finally, the gully widens. I’m nearing the ridge that will lead me to the summit. The view would be breathtaking if I had time to enjoy it. Instead, I take off running, Kabir’s too-big shoes tapping on the faint climber’s path, which is barely discernable in the fading light. The ridge broadens to a wide granite plateau scattered with twisted and weathered pines and scruffy spruce. Up here, the relentless wind and lack of soil mean vegetation is sparse. From cracks and tiny ledges in the rock, scruffy trees grow. They dot the slope as it breaks off into the abyss.

I move across the pale rock in the direction of the edge of the cliff face, straining for the sound of carabiners clinking or rope moving over rock. I realize I could easily miss them here—while I’m navigating close to the edge, they could have looped away from it. But all I hear is the steady breeze stirring the branches and my footsteps.

To my right, the rock slopes to the breakover and two-thousand-foot drop to the valley floor. A misstep here is not to be taken lightly.

And then I hear voices. It has to be them. My heart beats faster. What am I going to say to her? I’m anticipating the expression on Jake’s face when I take Anya into my arms as I pass through a cluster of trees. I spot two figures standing at the edge of the cliff. Now that the sun has dipped well below the horizon, they’re mere silhouettes. I recognize Jake’s frame and Anya’s slender profile.

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