The water looks clear enough and is cool to the touch. Desperation to quell her thirst wins out in the end, and she takes a tentative sip. There is no odd taste.
Oh well, what happens will happen.
Rachel takes a larger sip and drinks deeply before refilling her bottle.
She spends a few minutes evaluating her surroundings for the umpteenth time, wondering whether this would make a good camping site. The ground is too uneven to get a comfortable night’s rest, though, and there’s nothing to make a fire with anywhere in the vicinity. It’s just rocks, boulders, and gravel. Pressing on in the hopes of finding a more hospitable site is her only option.
Rachel takes the time to put on her jacket, covering her head with the faux fur hood to protect her ears from the raging wind and the blistering cold. Then, she takes a last look at the mirror—the image of a white boulder with an insignia carved into its surface—and shakes her head. There’s no telling if she’ll find the next marker in the dark, but she has to try. Rachel repositions her backpack, stuffs her hands into the deep pockets for warmth, and continues the long walk toward the mountains.
The temperature plummets significantly as night draws closer.
As tired as she is after the long and mildly disturbing day, moving keeps her blood pumping, keeps her warm to some extent. And the faster she gets to the boulder, the quicker she’ll find Orion.
Night falls and Ziggy closes the gap between them so she can see where her feet land. The wind picks up, the whistling she’s grown accustomed to turns into a deafening howl. Shivers run down her spine and up her arms. Rachel keeps her tired eyes on the ground, hunching over as she battles the elements.
“Let me know if you find it,” she calls.
Ziggy, who’s no more than a dot of light in the intense darkness, flashes.
Not even a star is visible in the overcast sky—no moonlight shines the way.
Her legs are sluggish from the cold, muscles scream for mercy, joints beckon for rest. Rachel stops and shakes her head, unable to take another step forward.
“I need to make camp, Ziggy.”
The Fae light flashes once in understanding and flies back to her side.
Rachel sets her backpack on the ground. “I’m sorry. I wanted to go on, but I can’t.”
Ziggy flashes again, slowly floats to the ground, and settles between a few rocks.
Rachel unhooks her blanket from the backpack and shakes it out before taking a seat on top of a rock. She pulls the blanket over her lap with her numb fingers.
“This isn’t going to be the most comfortable night’s rest, so if I’m grumpy tomorrow, you can’t hold it against me,” she says.
Ziggy flashes once.
“I’m probably going to be sore from head to toe, too.”
Another flash.
“Look at you being all understanding and stuff.” Rachel takes a bite of a granola bar and chews slowly, watching Ziggy from the corner of her eye. She swallows and takes a sip of water to wash it down. After her meager meal, she wiggles around to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The problem is that there’s nothing comfortable about sleeping on a pile of rocks.
“Are you going to keep watch for me?”
Ziggy answers with a single flash, before dimming down to a dull gold.
Rachel smiles. “Night-night, bright light.”
Ziggy’s surface ripples in response.
She closes her eyes, half wondering how long it’ll take her to fall asleep with the rock jutting into her hip, before she unexpectedly drifts off into a deep, dreamless slumber.
When Rachel awakens a few hours later, it’s still dark out. The bitter cold penetrates through the blanket and her clothes and seeps into her skin. She spots Ziggy floating nearby in calculated zigzags, probably doing a perimeter check. Rachel groans as she sits upright, stiff after the previous day’s walk and awkward sleeping position.
How many miles had she walked yesterday? Surely more than five. Ten, maybe? Hopefully more than ten. She wipes the sleep from her eyes, yawns, and stretches her sore muscles as best she can.
Rachel sighs as she stands.
Worse things have happened than starting a day without coffee. She rolls up the blanket.
It’s a bit of a hassle to maneuver the blanket back into its original size, but she gets it done and zips the blanket shut. Before she fixes it to her backpack, she has another granola bar, finds her toiletries, and goes about her morning routine as usual—sans the luxury of running water.
“Zigs.” Her voice is still husky with sleep.
Ziggy floats back to her side, brightening as she pulls the compact mirror into the open.
The top mirror shows Orion, fast asleep, whereas the bottom mirror shows the next marker. It looks like a weird tree, where the branches are bare and growing horizontally.
“Let’s see if we can find this tree by the time the sun rises.”
One flash.
Ziggy leads the way through the impenetrable darkness, shining brightly so Rachel can see where she’s stepping.
“Are we far from Amaris?”
There’s an obvious hesitation before the Fae light responds with two successive flashes. Rachel’s brow creases. The last thing she needs now is to run into Orion’s older brother, King Nova.
The sun crests behind the silhouetted mountains in the distance and the darkness slowly dissipates around her, revealing the bleak landscape once more. Light gray stones, in every imaginable shape and size, cover the ground. No matter where she looks, it’s dreary, lifeless, and alien. It’s not exactly what she’d imagined the Fae Realm to look like.
Granted, her fantasies had been more along the line of lush, dense forests for as far as the eye can see, alive with birdsong. Colorful flowers blooming all over valleys, where robust herds of deer grazed near crystal clear rivers. The Fae, she’d imagined, lived in treehouses of some kind, while faeries flew around and pixies played with children. This landscape is nothing near as beautiful as the picture in her head.
The temperature climbs as the
