Page 16 of Trust and Obey

Or unexpectedly kind, I thought touching one hand to my head. A small bump had raised overnight, but thankfully it wasn’t the black and blue monstrosity that I had feared. Most of it was hidden by my hairline.

Good. Today’s hike was going to be strenuous, and I didn’t need Deacon fussing over me… Even though it had been nice. It had been a long time since someone had cared.

I snagged our packs, added a couple of protein bars for good measure, and headed down to villa number seventeen with a cart full of breakfast.

Deacon, too, was up and at ‘em when I knocked on the door. He scarfed down a quick breakfast, we filled our water bottles for the hike, and I took him up Mount Doom.

Okay. There was an official local name for the single mountain, on the island. I had even known it once, but honestly, over the years, that factoid had slipped away. The staff all called it Mount Doom. Why? Because it was a pain in the ass.

Experienced hikers and amateur mountaineers—the types that usually went to the adventure guides—were often left annoyed by a jungle covered mountain that could be scaled to the top and back within a half-day. Meanwhile, the hobbyist hikers found the more challenging trails too steep to be fun, even though they gave the best views on the entire island.

There was nothing wrong with the mountain. It was just in a weird sweet spot to be annoying to everybody. Some dramatic staffer had named it Mount Doom, and it stuck. Copyright aside.

Of course, I hadn’t told Deacon any of this. He was my guest, not my friend, and part of the fun was being sold on the experience.

So, I started up the more advanced trail, which was tagged by three black diamonds, in an ironic nod to ski slopes, and mentally crossed my fingers that he would have a good time.

Oh, did I forget to mention the first third was so steep it was practically vertical? Ow, my calves.

But it seemed I had underestimated Deacon. Not only did he keep up with me with no problem, he also offered to take my pack when I got a little winded.

“I’m fine,” I told him.

“Really, it’s the least I can do.”

“It’s my job. Stop being so chivalrous.” He had his hand halfway out but dropped it with a grimace. Instantly, I felt bad. “The trail levels out after the next bend,” I said, extending an olive branch his way. Then, just to prove that I was the professional here, I told my screaming legs to suck it up, and increased my pace.

Luckily, I had remembered correctly, and the trail did indeed level out. The trees grew thicker, now that they weren’t struggling against gravity, and plunged us all into deep jungle shadow. It would’ve been hot and humid except for a lovely waterfall which cut down through the rocks and emptied itself into a basin not far away. I more or less staggered to the bench, set down my pack, and gestured to our first stop.

“This is Three-Eyed falls,” I said, grandly sweeping a hand forward. “Each ledge is supposed to contain an eye of the gods.”

Deacon gave the waterfall an appraising once over and grunted. He stepped forward and looked down into the deep, crystal-clear waters of the natural pool below. “Wow, I can see all the way to the bottom.”

I grinned. “Actually, it’s a lot deeper than it seems. Some kind of optical illusion with the sunlight. You can’t reach the bottom without scuba equipment.” I touched his shoulder to draw his attention, my fingertips lingering on his arm of their own accord. Then I pointed down and slightly to the right. “See that glint in the sun? Sort of goldish?”

He squinted and then nodded after a moment. “Yeah. What is that? Someone’s watch?”

“Nope.” I said, popping the P. “I told you, there are some crazy optical illusions. That is a golden statue of the phoenix, it’s about three feet from end to end. It used to sit at the edge of the dock as kind of a good luck charm to welcome the guests. I don’t know why, doesn’t fit with our resort theme. Anyway, one day this old lawyer gets what he calls a bad case of sunstroke, but I suspect he was high as a kite. He ripped the idol off the piling with his bare hands, somehow lugged it all the way up this trail by himself in the middle of the night, and tossed it in.” I spread my hands wide. “Now rumor has it that the golden phoenix brings good luck to hikers of the mountain.”

“Is that what you tell all the tourists?”

I put a hand to my chest, as if offended. “It’s part of our glorious history of the island.”

“Why don’t they just hire a couple guys with scuba equipment to go retrieve it?”

Ah, a skeptic. My favorite.

I wiggled my fingers. “Because they found out that when you drink the water of the Phoenix Pool, the golden idle grants you strength to make it all the way up the mountain.”

Deacon had a half smile on his face, as if he wasn’t sure if I was pulling his leg or not. “Are you sure? It still looks like a wristwatch to me.”

I shrugged. “Maybe to the unbelievers.”

Then with that, I dipped my cupped hand in the water and deliberately drank.

His eyes darkened as he watched me swallow.

Then, before I could think hard about what that meant, he turned and did the same. A trickle of water escaped his mouth and dribbled down his neck.

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