Spin the Dawn(75)

I was at the Rainmaker’s overhang when I felt Edan’s wings rippling behind me. A gust of wind followed, breezing through my hair and lifting my spirits.

I shouldn’t have let him distract me. It was dark now, and in my hurry to reach the peak, I didn’t watch where I was climbing. Just as I pulled one pick from the rock, my left shoe grazed a patch of ice. Panic shot through my nerves; my heart jumped madly in my chest. I tried desperately to regain my balance. But the shoe wouldn’t hold anymore.

I screamed.

My lantern plummeted, leaving me in darkness. I held on to my right pick, left arm flailing as my shoe slipped uselessly against rock. As I dangled from the precipice, I could feel the muscles in my arm tearing, my grip on the pick slipping. The seconds collided into what felt like an eternity.

Wind roared in my ears. I’m going to fall. I’m going to fail.

No. Not here. Not now.

I slammed my left pick into a crevice and slowly, trying to keep my fragile control, pulled myself up.

Only after I hauled myself onto the summit and rolled away from the edge of the precipice did I dare exhale, the vapor of my breath dispersing into the cold air. Then I lay on my back, panting, looking up at the moon, my arms throbbing like they were about to fall off. I’d never been this close to the sky—close enough to feel the power of its light humming in my bones.

Edan was perched on a rock, chirping and whistling as he did in his human form. I rose and lifted one tired arm, beckoning him to approach me.

His wings lifted, and he swooped onto my shoulder. Together, we walked, exploring the summit of Rainmaker’s Peak. It was quiet here. Even the wind was gentler than it had been on the ascent. The moon was enormous. It hung in the night, a massive round lantern, its watery light so bright I almost reached out to touch it.

Edan flew off toward the shadow of the overhang. I followed him, mindful of my footing. Veins of ice snaked across the rocky summit, so brittle they crunched under my shoes. All was still but for the flap of Edan’s wings—and the rattle of grit and tiny pebbles cascading down. My ears perked. Where was that sound coming from?

I broke from Edan and trailed the falling debris to the north side of the summit, watching the pebbles spill into a rocky opening just wider than my hips.

“I found a cave!” I shouted, beckoning Edan to me. I crouched to begin lowering myself. Its mouth was narrow, so I inched inside slowly. I had the unnerving feeling that I was entering some great beast’s jaws. Toothlike stalactites pricked me, and dripping water kissed the top of my head.

Bats fluttered, their wings beating so powerfully I staggered forward.

Edan bit my hair and pulled back hard.

I froze. Let out a sharp breath. Moonlight filtering through the ceiling cracks revealed a silvery carpet of ice. One more step forward and I would have fallen through the ice into the pool beneath it.

I peered down. A city of crystal glimmered beneath the ice, illuminated by slivers of moonlight.

You’ll have to swim for the moonlight, Edan had told me when he handed me the second walnut. And carry this with you, he added, also giving me the walnut now filled with sunlight. Its shell glowed ever so slightly, a warm, bright bulb of light.

Keep it near your heart, Edan had said as I tucked the walnut into my tunic. It’ll give you warmth.

I knelt by the pool, Edan the hawk on my shoulder.

“There?” I pointed to the center of the still water, where moonlight glistened brightest. “That’s what I have to get, isn’t it?”

The hawk’s neck jerked. Yes, I assumed. It was impossible to tell how deep the pool was.

My body shook as I removed my cloak, pants, and shoes. I folded them into a neat stack on a rock. Then, as I’d done before with the sun, I put on my spider-silk gloves and grasped my scissors.

The cold numbed my fear. Sucking in the biggest breath I could hold, I jumped.

Nothing could have prepared me for the shock of the cold water. Without the walnut of sunlight spreading warmth through my blood, I would have frozen within seconds.

I dove down, away from the dim light of the surface. It was so quiet all I could hear was the sound of my pulse slowing.

The pool was bottomless. The air stored in my lungs grew thin. Pinching, pinching. Tight.

Go back! My mind screamed at me. Go back now!

But I kicked on. After nearly dying on the climb, I couldn’t give up now. I tried to think of Baba and Keton, that I couldn’t fail them. But this trial wasn’t about my heart.

Stop kicking, stop swimming. Relax.

I let go. Released everything. My body began to float back toward the surface, and my throat burned, nearly out of air. No…Had I made a terrible mistake?

Then a strong current caught me, pulling me down so fast and deep into the pool that my stomach surged into my throat. There below, a soft, silvery light penetrated the water, illuminating the city of stone and crystal surrounding me. At first, the light was gauzy, thin and faint. But as I was carried deeper, it separated into thick, bright beams that blinked like eyes—tears of the moon! Around me they shimmered, long whorls of melting silver. All I needed to do was catch one.

The moonlight was slippery. Even with my spider-silk gloves, it curled and twisted out of my grasp. The next beam I caught, I quickly tied into a bow, as if it were not light but a ribbon. The beam flickered and glowed, becoming so bright I had to look away. I cut the end, clamping my scissors over the light before it could flee.