Page 78 of The High Mountain Court

Chapter Twenty

Her labored breaths stabbed into her lungs like blades of ice. Remy had long lost count of the steps as they climbed. Hewn into the jagged mountainside were hundreds and hundreds of stone stairs. They had climbed above the tree line. Her bottom teeth felt numb from dragging cold air over them as whirls of snowflakes blew around them. A powdery white covered surrounding peaks, but even the snow feared the Rotted Peak.

Remy had given up keeping her mouth closed to the stench. Her body was too tired to roil against the foul rot. She did not dare look back down. The climb alone would make this trek only possible for the fittest soldiers. They could have carried no fancy weaponry or tools up such a long, steep ascension. No animal could traverse the narrow, vertical climb to carry a heavy arsenal either.

Remy considered dropping her dagger several times. Hale left his swords with the horses, favoring only a dagger and a hand scythe. Still, they felt every ounce of the extra weight now. The summit was not far, yet the climb felt endless. The memories of pleasure from the night before had long left her body, surrendered to the steep climb. She knew they would have to talk about it eventually . . . if they survived. Perhaps it would be better to die on these slopes than to lie to him again . . . perhaps it would be better to die than to tell him the truth.

Remy’s chest burned. Her legs felt weighted with lead. She willed enough of her magic into her body to keep her moving. Their water skins were empty and ditched along the trail. Her only goal was to get to the top.

Get to the top, get to the top. She chanted it to herself.

For at the summit of this mountain was the only opening into what lay inside Mt. Aelusien: a magical lake. The ancestors of the High Mountain fae had imbued the lake with their magic, a safeguard to protect their talisman. King Vostemur thought he possessed the entirety of the High Mountain power, but he was wrong.

The ancient red witches had created the amulet of Aelusien and gifted it to the High Mountain Court during a time of pestilence. Disease had swept through the continent. The red witches had worried what would happen to Okrith if they were all wiped out, worried their magic would go extinct. They created the amulet of Aelusien, a necklace that when worn gave the wearer the power of red witch magic, more heightened and undiluted than any one witch had themselves, even Baba Morganna. Anyone could harness the power of the amulet if they learned how: witches, fae, even humans. The amulet was the red witches’ insurance that their magic would survive the plague. The High Mountain fae hid it in their mountain range, where it remained to this day.

The ancients knew whoever held possession of this precious talisman would gain incredible power. So they made it almost impossible to obtain. Only the bravest, strongest, shrewdest warrior could reach it: a person worthy of it.

Every step Remy considered stopping. She knew even one long pause would be the end of her climb.

She had told Hale death was more likely than victory, and every time Hale insisted that with a red witch by his side, he would be successful. Remy heard the prince’s labored breaths far behind her. He had grumbled something about how it was easier for her because she was half his weight, but now he had no breath for complaining.

They began climbing with hands and feet up the sheer rock side. Time had worn away the path. It was no longer hard rock underneath them. They now traversed loose shale. With every step forward, they dropped almost the same distance back. It was grueling punishment, each step more disheartening than the last, but they continued to make their way ever so slowly higher.

At long last, Remy climbed high enough to see it: a black hole carved into the stone.

It was not some grand entrance or archway like she had expected, nothing regal or befitting of the High Mountain Court. No, this was a small, dark tunnel looming before them, too small to even crawl on hands and knees. They would have to inch their way on their bellies like crocodiles in this pitch darkness. It looked like a terrible, terrible idea. Someone probably designed it to look that way.

Remy rested on the narrow platform next to the tunnel, her back leaning against the mountain, surveying the distance they had come. Forest stretched out long into the distance, and beyond that she saw a distant town’s small circle of smokestacks. If she squinted hard enough, she could just make out the ocean on the horizon. She blinked several times, trying to discern where the sea met the sky but could not. It might be the last time she ever saw the ocean. Even if they survived, they would head inland to Yexshire.

Hale clambered onto the ledge, sitting beside Remy. As he took huge drags of air, she wished she had some water to pass him, but there was nothing. Perhaps the lake water inside was drinkable? But, knowing the red witches, she dared not risk it.

She made to move toward the tunnel, but Hale put a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait for me,” he panted. “We go in together.”

They sat for several long minutes of contemplative silence before Hale’s breathing slowed enough. Even as a fae male in peak condition, the climb had been relentless. She wondered how many had failed to even get this far. How many had turned back when they saw the never-ending stairs before them? Abandoned swords and armor had littered the mountain where the vertical climb turned to shale. The ones who turned back were probably the wisest of them all.

Hale made to move around Remy toward the tunnel. She put her hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“I should go first,” Hale insisted. He leaned so close to her that his hair touched her face. Even with the exhaustion of the climb, it was a thrill to be so close to those lips again. A flash of the night before shuddered through Remy as she dropped her eyes.

“No, I will go first,” Remy said. Before Hale could argue, she added, “This may not even be the true entrance. We do not know if the tunnel leads to anywhere or how narrow it becomes once inside. I am the smaller of the two of us, I should go first.”

“Fine.” Hale narrowed his eyes at her. “But if it becomes too narrow for only you to pass, you will tell me. We will both turn back and find another way in.”

Remy didn’t respond at first.

“What is going on in that mind of yours?” he asked, his breath skimming across her cheek. She saw the stone gray flecks in his silver eyes.

She didn’t say what she wanted to say: that she had no use or desire to possess the amulet of Aelusien. She didn’t tell him all the secrets clawing up the back of her throat.

Instead she said, “I pledged my magic to you, and we did not discuss compensation. I want ten pieces of gold per month that I am in your service.”

Hale laughed. “You bargain with me now?” He looked out at the drop below them. “Fine, agreed. I will give you your first coins when we return to the horses. Now promise me you won’t go on without me.”

“Fine. I promise I won’t leave you behind,” she said with an eye roll. But she knew it already, knew it deep in her bones, that she couldn’t leave him behind even if she wanted to, even if it would save her life.

She rolled onto her belly and began her crawl into the tunnel. It was tall enough for her to get on her hands and knees before her back pressed against the rocky top of the tunnel. Remy was sure Hale was belly crawling. The tunnel slanted downward, making their movements easier. Remy’s face broke through more than one spider web as she inched forward. She tried not to itch at the thought of spiders in her hair. She had just climbed an indomitable mountain, and yet one spider on her body had her wanting to flail and scream. Pushing the thought from her mind, she kept moving. Remy could not run; Hale blocked the way back. She could not think of how trapped she was in that tight space or it would make her panic. Remy released a slow breath out her nose and kept going.

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