Elusion(49)

“I’d prefer to go up, but I think down would be faster.”

Josh lets out another laugh, his breath creating a cloud of turquoise, which disappears in the blink of an eye.

“What? Why are you laughing?” I say through a giddy grin.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“It’s just that . . . I don’t know a lot about you, but it’s obvious you’re a ‘go up’ kind of girl.”

“You really think so?”

Josh picks up a harness off the ground, tossing it to me gently. “Yeah. And I love that about you.”


I jab the spiked steel plates attached to the bottom of my fire-engine-red boots into a rocky crevice. When my feet are secure, I let the rope out, rappelling a hundred feet or so before throwing my pickax against the wall of the mountain, causing a shower of pale pastel crystals to rain down on me. I pause a moment, pressing my gloved hands up against the mountain, and hold steady. I inhale and repeat the process over and over, yanking out my pickax, pushing off and rappelling downward, adrenaline flowing through my limbs. It’s as if I am flying, swooping in to land.

The rush I am feeling is no longer just in my mind—I can feel it possessing every moment, every breath, every gesture. My legs are like channels of water surging toward a dam, but my arms are like ribbons tied to an old fence post, flickering in the breeze.

I land smack against the side of the mountain and pause to breathe in a fresh, jasmine-scented Nordic wind that is billowing through the atmosphere. I take off my gloves so I can feel the cold particles land upon my fingers. The snow is refreshingly cool, and it leaves a light pink stain on my hand when it melts.

“How’re you doing?” Josh calls out from his perch above me.

“Great,” I say, smiling up at him. “How much time do we have left?”

Josh pushes his jacket sleeve up and glances at his wristband. “Thirty minutes.”

“Wow, I feel like we’ve been at this for hours.” I look down below. When we arrived in Elusion, the ground beneath us was barely visible. And now? The trees are nothing more than tiny dark purple dots that match the lake. “Do you think we’ll make it?”

“I hope so—we’ve gotten pretty far already.”

I nod as I kick away from the mountain, bouncing back.

And just like that, everything goes haywire.

The rope slides out of my brake hand, causing me to lose my balance. It slips through my fingers as the anchor holding it lets loose. I begin to free-fall, yanking short as the rope connecting my harness to Josh pulls tight, tugging so violently against him he’s thrown against the mountain, his pickax flying out of his grasp. I dangle in the air beside the mountain, held up only by my harness.

My left hand reaches for the mountain while my right continues to clutch the pickax as if my life depends on it. But it’s strange—I don’t feel the least bit terrified.

In fact, I feel . . . incredible.

I find a slight indentation, enough to dig my fingers in, and pull myself toward the sparkling rock, heaving my pickax so that it is wedged in place.

“I’m okay, Josh! I’m okay!” I shout.

“Regan!” he yells. “Stay still. I’m coming to get you.”

Click.

I glance down. The top snap of my harness is loosening, the safety straps unbuckling as if by invisible fingers.

Click.

Another snap is undone.

“Josh!” I scream—not with terror, but delight. “My harness is giving way!”

“Don’t move!” Josh quickly lowers the rope, practically diving toward me.

Click.

My free hand frantically tugs at my harness, vainly attempting to yank it closed as I dangle in midair. I kick the spiked boots into the mountain with all my might. But it’s as though the ice has turned into a sheet of pink-jeweled granite.

All of a sudden, the ice shifts, causing me to lose my grip. I grab on to the pickax with both hands as my harness releases, setting Josh free.

He feels it at the same time I do.

He stops for a moment, his eyes locking on to mine. “Hang on!” he yells, releasing some slack on his rope as he plunges toward me.

But he isn’t quick enough.

The ice begins to separate into long shards and tiny fragments. Suddenly my pickax has nothing left to penetrate.

I tumble backward, falling so fast the mountain is just a blur. I close my eyes as the wind rushes in my ears.

So this is how it feels to die? It doesn’t seem too bad, actually.

I don’t feel frightened at all.

But then I remember why I’m here—to find the firewall again—so dying today, whether it’s real or not, isn’t an option.

I tighten my hands around the pickax. Utilizing all my strength, I flip myself upright as my body continues to descend. I face the mountain, heaving my ax toward it as hard as I can. The ax catches the side of a large rock formation, yanking me upward. I bounce like an old string puppet, flying sideways through the air, ricocheting off the mountain and onto a huge plateau.

I hit the ground hard, rolling several times before stopping. Then I open my eyes.

In spite of the fall, I’m surprisingly unscathed. No bumps, no bruises, no scratches.

I pick up my head and look around. In front of me is an archway made out of giant blocks of ice, sparkling like a billon sea-green diamonds.