The Continent (The Continent #1)(17)



“They’re so precious,” I say. “Do you feed them often?”

“I always say I won’t, but then I do. Just the ones here by the facility. They’ve come to know me a bit, I think.”

“I think so, too,” I say.

As we continue on, the shore comes into view, and I’m delighted by the sight of violent, frosty waves crashing and breaking before rolling up to kiss the rocky sand. A fishing boat floats idly in the little bay, tied to a weatherbeaten post—and a great iceberg looms in the distance, shining pale bluish-white in the sun. I’ve never seen an iceberg before, and would be content to stare at it all day, but Mr. Cloud leads us away from the more accessible part of the beach toward the base of a high cliff.

I’m huffing a bit by the time we reach it, as the snow is quite thick and we’ve been moving steadily uphill for a little ways. Mr. Cloud doesn’t look as though he’s exerted himself at all, but Aaden’s breathing seems as labored as mine.

“I thought you might find this interesting,” he says, patting a hand on the steep wall. “This cliff is more than five hundred feet high, and it goes two-thirds of the way around the island.”

“Yes! I’ve noticed it on some of the topographical maps—but it’s quite something else to see it up close.” I take a step back and shield my eyes, staring up at the immense wall before me. It’s damp and glistening, with fragments of shiny rock jutting out in small clumps. “I don’t suppose we can go up to the top?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re up for that, miss? It will take the better part of an hour, and we’ll be in some heavy snow by the time you get there.”

“Please,” I say. “If Aaden is agreeable, I should love to see the ocean from such a vantage point.”

“I’m game if you are,” Aaden says. “Let’s do it.”

By the time we reach the top, the muscles in my legs are burning. My whole body, in fact, is significantly warmed by the climb; the sharp breeze now feels cool and bracing against the fine layer of perspiration that has appeared on my cheeks and forehead. Mr. Cloud says it can be very dangerous to sweat in these temperatures, especially without insulated clothing. To this, I assure him that I have no intention of traipsing about on Ivanel in my dinner clothes.

The grueling climb is all but forgotten upon sight of the ocean sweeping out below us, vast and dark and beautiful, the sunlight golden upon the fragmented sea ice. The waves break against the cliff with tremendous power, creating great whorls of frothy white foam that seem to dance atop the water, ever at the mercy of the tides.

I put a hand to my breast. “Did you ever see anything so marvelous?”

“Worth every miserable step,” Aaden agrees.

Mr. Cloud crosses his arms and gives a small nod, a smile at the corner of his lips. “For all the Spire’s beauty, you’ll never see anything quite like this.” He glances back at the trees behind us. “Listen—I’d like to check a few traps while we’re up here—mind if I leave you two to admire the view for a while?”

“Take your time,” Aaden says, and moves to sit on a wide, flat rock. He pats the space next to him. “Sit with me, Vaela.”

We rest for a few minutes, our eyes on the sea. It is quiet here atop the cliff, the stillness broken only by the trilling of the Achelons in the trees and the breaking water far below.

“Aaden?”

“Yes?” he says, his voice distant.

“Was it what you expected?”

He glances over at me, then looks back at the ocean. “Yes and no.”

“Tell me what you mean.”

He doesn’t answer right away. “It was thrilling, just as I thought it would be. There was something raw and powerful about the battle itself. But…it was not entertaining. I was rather put off, to be honest.”

“It was terrible.”

“It was.”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “When people return from the Continent, they talk about how exhilarating the battles were. They say the fighting was bloody, but they never say…they never say how gruesome it all is.”

He tilts his head. “What did you expect, Vaela? You had to know on some level how brutal it would be.”

I pull my legs toward my chest and hug them close. “I suppose I didn’t think about it at all—not in any real sense. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but it’s true. I just thought it would be exciting.”

“Well, it was, at that.”

“It was dreadful. The whole thing was dreadful. And to think, all those years ago, each was offered a place as a nation of the Spire, if only their quarrels could be set aside. But they chose dissension. They chose death and blood and perpetual hostility. Why?”

“To be fair,” Aaden says, “the Aven’ei hoped to unite with us. It was the Topi who refused—they wanted nothing to do with our people from the very first; we were never able to establish even the simplest trade with them.” He scuffs his foot along the side of the rock and shakes his head. “It was different with the Aven’ei. They traded peacefully for decades with the East and the West—right up until the Spire was formed.”

“I’ve always wondered about that—what did the Aven’ei possess that our people could possibly want?”

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