Water runs downhill. James repeated the sentence to himself over and over as he pushed his way through the thick underbrush that once again tore at his skin. The elevation continued to rise. Several times during his ascent the steepness required James to use his hands. After nearly an hour of skin-tearing, cramp-inducing climbing, the ground leveled. The dense undergrowth, which had thankfully transitioned from the spiny flesh-tearing plants to more forgiving vegetation, still prevented James from gaining a good perspective of his surroundings. He decided to follow a subtle depression as it trended downward and inland. All the while thoughts of the black castle plagued his subconscious.
As he continued, the depression widened and steepened. The steeper it grew, the more choked with underbrush it became.
The time he calculated that it would take him to reach the bottom had come and gone. It was at this point that he began to doubt his presumption. As the underbrush was at its thickest, the leaf litter he’d been walking on for over an hour slowly gave way to stone. He could make out a clearing ahead. He pushed through the final row of plants and into the clearing.
Large, flat, oval rocks surrounded a teal-blue pool of water. On the far side of the pond, nestled in the face of a cliff, stood a small, crudely built structure. Overwhelmed by thirst, James ran toward the pool. As he reached the edge he dropped to his knees and cupped his hands in the water. He brought his hands to his mouth.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice said from behind.
He turned quickly, spilling the water. A woman stood over him holding a spear at the ready. She was taller than James by half a head. Her hair was dark and unkempt. Her clothes, if you could call them clothes, hung by threads over her shoulders.
“Let me drink or run me through.”
“You cannot drink the standing water. You will die before your throat moistens. And death, when it comes will be most horrible,” she said casually, lowering her spear. “Come with me, boy, and I will take you to water.”
She set the spear on the ground and extended her hand. It was only then that James realized he wasn’t wearing any clothes. She studied him as if she’d never seen a naked man before. When their eyes met, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him upright with more strength than he thought possible from a woman who seemed so frail. He studied her face and realized that she must be at least ten years older than he. She held his gaze for a moment, then turned and headed toward the structure on the far side of the pool. She was careful to keep her distance from the edge of the water as she deftly stepped upon the smooth stones. James followed, finding it nearly impossible to keep pace with the strange woman.
Once they reached the structure she motioned for him to wait outside. She ducked through the opening. James inspected the carefully stacked stones, some of them larger around than any tree that made up the walls of the structure. As he tried to imagine how she could have possibly stacked the stones by herself, she returned. She gently handed him a pair of dirty looking pants. He nodded in thanks, and she turned her back as he pulled them on. The pants were stained with something that looked like blood, and the lower legs of the pants were torn away. Nevertheless, James was happy to have some protection from the flesh-tearing plants.
“Thank you,” he said.
She turned, smiled, and stepped past him without a word.
“What’s your name?” asked James.
“Kilani.”
James noticed a coil of rope hanging from her shoulder. They silently followed a well-worn trail along the cliff face. The rocky ground gave way to soft leaf litter as they moved further from the pool.
The woman stopped suddenly. She removed the rope from her shoulder and turned toward him.
“Now we may drink,” she said.
James couldn’t see any water as she made a large loop in one of the pieces of rope. She threw the unlooped end over a thicker piece of rope James hadn’t noticed that was tied to a large tree along the trail just above his head. She tied a second knot, gave the rope a tug, and repeated the process with a second coil of rope. The woman lifted one of the loops over her head and sat in the center as a child would in a swing. Without warning she pushed off the ground with her feet and glided away. James could now see why she had stopped so abruptly. The trail ended in what appeared to be a bottomless chasm. Nothing but blackness lay below. James’s head began to spin as he watched the woman pull herself out into the middle along the cliff face. The large rope that held her sling was strung from the far end of the chasm to the tree beside him. She was moving toward a waterfall that spilled out from the center of the stone face. James looked again down into the black abyss and was unsettled more by the realization that he could not hear the water splashing into a pool. Strangely enough, James had a feeling of familiarity as he looked into the abyss. Even now, the black castle urged his quick return.
Having never been fond of heights, the idea of following her was not something he would have considered even if his powers were working. The woman waved him on. He shook his head.
“There must be somewhere else we can find water,” he yelled.
“No need to yell, sound travels far here,” came her reply. It was as if she were still standing beside him.
“You will die before we reach the other watering site. Come! Drink,” she said as if inviting him in for an afternoon cup of tea.
He stepped forward, grasped the loop in front of him, and gave it a pull. He screamed in pain as the muscles in his shoulder seized. There was no denying it and no more delaying it. He needed water. After a moment of rubbing, the cramping subsided enough for him to lift himself into the sling.
James lowered himself until all his weight rested on the rope. The supporting line held firm. Slowly he moved toward the edge. He turned, his back toward the edge, and grasped the supporting line that held his sling and his life.
“Trust and move forward,” she whispered.
The words relaxed James. He took a breath and pushed away from the edge. The sling slid along the supporting line with no discernable friction. He focused his mind on breathing and his eyes on his white-knuckled hands as the place where he stood a moment ago rapidly grew distant.
He came to a stop with a jerk. He looked over his shoulder and saw the woman beside him. She gave a sympathetic smile.
“You must relax or you will seize again. You will require all of your strength,” she said.
James looked past her at the waterfall. Several ropes hung down the cliff face and into the water of the falls.
“We’re running out of time,” she said, pulling herself directly in front of the falls, which were eerily silent. “Do as I do.”
She lifted herself in the sling and slid it under her knees while holding on to the upper section. With one hand extended toward the falls, she began to swing. Expecting the supporting line to sway James clenched his sling. The line did not sway. Finally, her hand penetrated the water, and she grasped a rope. To James’s horror she released the sling so its only means of attachment to her body was tucked behind her knees. She grasped the rope that hung over the cliff with both hands. Kilani pulled herself into the streaming water headfirst and drank. James tried to fight off the panic gripping his body. He could feel his muscles tense. He closed his eyes and began to recite the primer incantation his father had taught him when he was just a child. He called it the primer incantation because it readied the mind for more complex magic. A hand grasped his shoulder.
James opened his eyes. Kilani’s dark hair was wet, and she looked rejuvenated. She nodded and slid down the support line, allowing him to position himself directly in front of the falls. He stared at the rope he needed to reach.
Before he could change his mind, he pulled himself up in the sling and slid the rope beneath his knees. He could feel his arms ready to cramp under the strain of his weight. Slowly, he lowered himself back down, allowing his legs to absorb some of the tension. He looked over at Kilani, who nodded reassuringly. After a deep breath, he shifted his weight. The sling moved away from the cliff face and rocked back toward it as he extended his legs just a fraction and leaned slightly back. As he drew closer to the dangling rope, he knew he had only one chance at grasping it. With a final swing he released the sling with his left hand and reached for the rope. He plunged his hand into the streaming water and groped for the rope, but he only felt water. He’d missed. As his momentum began to carry him away from the rope, James realized he was going to fall. In a moment of desperation, he released his
