“So, what did Bluewhen mean when she said eighteen works for your age?”
Miles grimaced. “She meant that I’m perpetually stuck at eighteen; old enough to need a job but too young to legally drink alcohol.”
I winced in sympathy. “Ouch. Does that mean human you was eighteen when you journeyed through the Vale?”
“I would assume so. Eighteen year old, idiotic human me.”
I pulled myself up a tumble of rocks as Miles floated effortlessly beside me. At the top of the climb was a steep terrain gnarled with roots and studded with massive rocks. It didn’t help that I could barely see more than ten meters around me. I sighed. “This sucks.”
“Better this than the crying birches.”
True enough. I clambered up another slab of rock. “How high do we have to go?”
Miles pointed. “See that gap up there?”
I squinted. Yes, through the trees I could make out a V between two black peaks, outlined against the slightly-less-black sky, with the West Fang on the right. I nodded.
“Higher than that.”
I groaned. This was going to take all afternoon, at least. Miles gave me a reassuring smile that made me want to hit him.
I climbed the slope for hours. Miles cheated and floated the whole way. We were level with the gap, and then we rose above it and emerged from the treeline out onto the windy alpine zone. To my relief the ground leveled off a bit.
“There it is.” Miles’ voice was startling in the wide, wide air.
I looked down. Ooh, yes, there it was. The birches were so white they glowed in the gloom, twisted hands reaching for the black sky. We were too far away to see any wraiths, and for that I was grateful.
“We’ll circumvent the peak,” I said. “I am not climbing all the way up there.”
“That’s fair,” Miles agreed. “But you’ll have to climb above that cliff.”
Yes, I would. The West Fang sheared away to a steep plummet into the birches’ gap, and if I wanted to make it over the mountain I’d have to rise above the cliff. I traced the drop-off with my eyes as best as I could in the gloom. The edge of the cliff seemed easy enough to travel on. I began hiking.
The cliff ended up being farther away than I’d thought. When I finally reached the top of the drop off, I slumped down on a nice, flat stone and tipped over, breathing hard. “I’ll just sleep here,” I mumbled. “Good night.”
“It is nearly dusk,” Miles said. “Technically, you’re correct.”
I turned over on my back, gazing up at the black sky. No- it was grey. I frowned. It was definitely lighter up here.
I sat up. When I’d traveled over the Madean Hills to reach the Shadowvale, I’d seen the pale peaks of the Spine rising through the darkness of the forest. Maybe-
Sudden energy spilled into my veins. “Come on!” I said. “We’re going to the top.”
Miles’ shoulders slumped forward in confusion. “What-”
“Slow!” I shouted, already meters above him. “You’re slow!”
Of course, he quickly caught up with his flight. He flew alongside me as I ran up the slope, climbing up hills of stone. Once, when I met a sheer rock face, Miles locked his arms around my waist and carried me to the top. “Why didn’t you do that for the whole mountain?” I demanded, still running. “It would’ve been a lot easier on me.”
“Yes, but I would’ve tired out fast. Carrying someone is exhausting. It’s nearly as bad as climbing the whole way with someone on your back.”
“Yikes.”
Twenty minutes passed, and I was slowing. “Where is the top?” I growled. “This is taking- oh-”
The reddened sky opened up above me, and the light poured in.
I climbed to a lookout and there it was- the setting sun shining through wisps of shadow. The sky blurred as I swiped away tears that were not just from the light. Who knew you could miss the sun so much?
Miles climbed up beside me, back on his feet. I glanced at him, then did a double take. “Woah. What happened to you?”
He blinked, his eyes still feline but no longer solid black, instead with normal whites, dark irises, and pupils. His skin had warmed to chocolate, and his talons had shrunk to claws on the ends of regular fingers. He grinned. So he still had the fangs along with the cat ears. “That’s right. Outside the Shadow I become nearly human. I guess Bluewhen was right- the Shadow changed me.”
I scanned him. “Do you think that if you stayed in the sun long enough, you’d go back to being human?”
He shook his head. “No. I can’t explain it but- I can tell I won’t change back.”
“Oh.” I went back to watching the sun. I’d watch it until I couldn’t see it anymore, soaking up as much light as I could. Beside me Miles shifted position, wrapping his arms around himself. I looked at him. “You okay?”
He sighed shakily. “Yeah. It’s just- outside the Shadow I feel like I don’t fit my skin. I belong to the Shadowvale now; the piece of me that’s the forest wants to stay there.”
I remembered Miles saying that being outside the Vale was uncomfortable. “Does it hurt? Should we go back?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt, exactly. We can stay here a while.” As if to make his point, he sat down on the rock and watched the sun sink behind distant mountains. “I’ve never seen a sunset before.”
“You’ve seen hundreds,” I said, sitting beside him. “You just don’t remember.”
“It’s the same,” he muttered.
The light waned redder. It seemed to catch in Miles’ silk straight black hair, turning it to fire. His eyes met mine. “Your eyes are a beautiful color.”
I reeled with surprise. “They’re brown,” I said after I’d recovered. “Not that special.”
“They don’t have to be special to be a nice color,” he grumbled. “There’s nothing wrong with brown.”
I turned back to the sunset, feeling happy. “Well… thank you.”
“Hmm.”
He seemed upset. I decided to chalk it up to whatever discomfort walking under the sun gave him, but I still shot him a questioning look. Miles stared resolutely at the bloody sun.
“My family owns a farm,” I began, mostly to fill the silence, “and my father often goes to other towns to sell our produce. When I was eleven or twelve, my parents decided to travel all the way to St. Ava’s Harbor, on the west coast, to sell our goods. It’s not that far, really, but so out of the way we rarely went. I begged my father to let me go with him. I’d never seen the ocean, nor the shell-inlaid whitewash of St. Ava’s. That city was beautiful; the firethorn was fruiting, so the walls were covered in scarlet berries under the pale yellow and pink domed roofs. The ocean was so blue. We sold all day, and while my parents packed up my sister and I watched the sun set from the wharf. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, like the sky was dying. And just as the sun disappeared below the water, the horizon flashed green.”
“Green?”
“Yes. That happens, sometimes- I’m not sure why. But if you see the sun set over a flat horizon, you might see that flash. My sister said there’s an old superstition that the burst of green occurs when there’s an opening between two worlds, which always happens at sunset.”
“Like where Bluewhen said the dragon came through.”
I shrugged. “Yes, I suppose so.”
Miles frowned at the sun, which was now cradled between the peaks of two hills. “Why green?”
“It’s probably because of something in the air. If it really is two worlds colliding, then I have no idea.”
The sun disappeared. Above, the sky was the pale not-blue of evening.
“We should go,” I said. “It’s almost dark.”
“It’s darker down there,” Miles pointed out. “Besides, I want to see the stars.”
I turned to look at him. “Doesn’t it bother you, though?”
“Not as much at night.” He lay back, watching the sky. In the west a point of light appeared. A planet- though I wasn’t sure which.
I reclined on my back beside him, pillowing my head with my arms. Overhead, the sky deepened and darkness began tugging at my sight. The wind had paused, I realized. It was so quiet.
The stars came.
Miles grimaced. “She meant that I’m perpetually stuck at eighteen; old enough to need a job but too young to legally drink alcohol.”
I winced in sympathy. “Ouch. Does that mean human you was eighteen when you journeyed through the Vale?”
“I would assume so. Eighteen year old, idiotic human me.”
I pulled myself up a tumble of rocks as Miles floated effortlessly beside me. At the top of the climb was a steep terrain gnarled with roots and studded with massive rocks. It didn’t help that I could barely see more than ten meters around me. I sighed. “This sucks.”
“Better this than the crying birches.”
True enough. I clambered up another slab of rock. “How high do we have to go?”
Miles pointed. “See that gap up there?”
I squinted. Yes, through the trees I could make out a V between two black peaks, outlined against the slightly-less-black sky, with the West Fang on the right. I nodded.
“Higher than that.”
I groaned. This was going to take all afternoon, at least. Miles gave me a reassuring smile that made me want to hit him.
I climbed the slope for hours. Miles cheated and floated the whole way. We were level with the gap, and then we rose above it and emerged from the treeline out onto the windy alpine zone. To my relief the ground leveled off a bit.
“There it is.” Miles’ voice was startling in the wide, wide air.
I looked down. Ooh, yes, there it was. The birches were so white they glowed in the gloom, twisted hands reaching for the black sky. We were too far away to see any wraiths, and for that I was grateful.
“We’ll circumvent the peak,” I said. “I am not climbing all the way up there.”
“That’s fair,” Miles agreed. “But you’ll have to climb above that cliff.”
Yes, I would. The West Fang sheared away to a steep plummet into the birches’ gap, and if I wanted to make it over the mountain I’d have to rise above the cliff. I traced the drop-off with my eyes as best as I could in the gloom. The edge of the cliff seemed easy enough to travel on. I began hiking.
The cliff ended up being farther away than I’d thought. When I finally reached the top of the drop off, I slumped down on a nice, flat stone and tipped over, breathing hard. “I’ll just sleep here,” I mumbled. “Good night.”
“It is nearly dusk,” Miles said. “Technically, you’re correct.”
I turned over on my back, gazing up at the black sky. No- it was grey. I frowned. It was definitely lighter up here.
I sat up. When I’d traveled over the Madean Hills to reach the Shadowvale, I’d seen the pale peaks of the Spine rising through the darkness of the forest. Maybe-
Sudden energy spilled into my veins. “Come on!” I said. “We’re going to the top.”
Miles’ shoulders slumped forward in confusion. “What-”
“Slow!” I shouted, already meters above him. “You’re slow!”
Of course, he quickly caught up with his flight. He flew alongside me as I ran up the slope, climbing up hills of stone. Once, when I met a sheer rock face, Miles locked his arms around my waist and carried me to the top. “Why didn’t you do that for the whole mountain?” I demanded, still running. “It would’ve been a lot easier on me.”
“Yes, but I would’ve tired out fast. Carrying someone is exhausting. It’s nearly as bad as climbing the whole way with someone on your back.”
“Yikes.”
Twenty minutes passed, and I was slowing. “Where is the top?” I growled. “This is taking- oh-”
The reddened sky opened up above me, and the light poured in.
I climbed to a lookout and there it was- the setting sun shining through wisps of shadow. The sky blurred as I swiped away tears that were not just from the light. Who knew you could miss the sun so much?
Miles climbed up beside me, back on his feet. I glanced at him, then did a double take. “Woah. What happened to you?”
He blinked, his eyes still feline but no longer solid black, instead with normal whites, dark irises, and pupils. His skin had warmed to chocolate, and his talons had shrunk to claws on the ends of regular fingers. He grinned. So he still had the fangs along with the cat ears. “That’s right. Outside the Shadow I become nearly human. I guess Bluewhen was right- the Shadow changed me.”
I scanned him. “Do you think that if you stayed in the sun long enough, you’d go back to being human?”
He shook his head. “No. I can’t explain it but- I can tell I won’t change back.”
“Oh.” I went back to watching the sun. I’d watch it until I couldn’t see it anymore, soaking up as much light as I could. Beside me Miles shifted position, wrapping his arms around himself. I looked at him. “You okay?”
He sighed shakily. “Yeah. It’s just- outside the Shadow I feel like I don’t fit my skin. I belong to the Shadowvale now; the piece of me that’s the forest wants to stay there.”
I remembered Miles saying that being outside the Vale was uncomfortable. “Does it hurt? Should we go back?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt, exactly. We can stay here a while.” As if to make his point, he sat down on the rock and watched the sun sink behind distant mountains. “I’ve never seen a sunset before.”
“You’ve seen hundreds,” I said, sitting beside him. “You just don’t remember.”
“It’s the same,” he muttered.
The light waned redder. It seemed to catch in Miles’ silk straight black hair, turning it to fire. His eyes met mine. “Your eyes are a beautiful color.”
I reeled with surprise. “They’re brown,” I said after I’d recovered. “Not that special.”
“They don’t have to be special to be a nice color,” he grumbled. “There’s nothing wrong with brown.”
I turned back to the sunset, feeling happy. “Well… thank you.”
“Hmm.”
He seemed upset. I decided to chalk it up to whatever discomfort walking under the sun gave him, but I still shot him a questioning look. Miles stared resolutely at the bloody sun.
“My family owns a farm,” I began, mostly to fill the silence, “and my father often goes to other towns to sell our produce. When I was eleven or twelve, my parents decided to travel all the way to St. Ava’s Harbor, on the west coast, to sell our goods. It’s not that far, really, but so out of the way we rarely went. I begged my father to let me go with him. I’d never seen the ocean, nor the shell-inlaid whitewash of St. Ava’s. That city was beautiful; the firethorn was fruiting, so the walls were covered in scarlet berries under the pale yellow and pink domed roofs. The ocean was so blue. We sold all day, and while my parents packed up my sister and I watched the sun set from the wharf. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, like the sky was dying. And just as the sun disappeared below the water, the horizon flashed green.”
“Green?”
“Yes. That happens, sometimes- I’m not sure why. But if you see the sun set over a flat horizon, you might see that flash. My sister said there’s an old superstition that the burst of green occurs when there’s an opening between two worlds, which always happens at sunset.”
“Like where Bluewhen said the dragon came through.”
I shrugged. “Yes, I suppose so.”
Miles frowned at the sun, which was now cradled between the peaks of two hills. “Why green?”
“It’s probably because of something in the air. If it really is two worlds colliding, then I have no idea.”
The sun disappeared. Above, the sky was the pale not-blue of evening.
“We should go,” I said. “It’s almost dark.”
“It’s darker down there,” Miles pointed out. “Besides, I want to see the stars.”
I turned to look at him. “Doesn’t it bother you, though?”
“Not as much at night.” He lay back, watching the sky. In the west a point of light appeared. A planet- though I wasn’t sure which.
I reclined on my back beside him, pillowing my head with my arms. Overhead, the sky deepened and darkness began tugging at my sight. The wind had paused, I realized. It was so quiet.
The stars came.
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