Graceling (Graceling Realm #1)(68)

The weather held, so that Katsa’s declaration could not be put to the test. They moved as fast as the terrain would permit. For all his marveling at Katsa’s energy, Po was strong and quick. He teased her for the pace she set, but he didn’t complain; and if he stopped sometimes for food and water, Katsa was grateful, for it reminded her to eat and drink as well. And it gave her an excuse to turn around and stare behind them, at the mountains that stretched from east to west, at the whole world she could see – for she was so high that she felt she could see the whole world.

And then suddenly, they reached the top of the pass. Before them the mountains plunged into a forest of pines.

Green valleys stretched beyond, broken by streams and farmhouses and tiny dots that Katsa guessed were cows. And a line, a river, that thinned into the distance and led to a miniature white city at the edge of their sight. Leck City.

“I can barely see it,” Po said, “but I trust your vision.”

“I see buildings,” Katsa said, “and a dark wall around a white castle. And look, see the farmhouses in the valley?

Surely you can make those out. And the cows, do you see the cows?”

“Yes, I can see them, now that you mention it. It’s gorgeous, Katsa. Have you ever seen a sight so gorgeous?”

She laughed at his happiness. For a moment, as they looked down on Monsea, the world was beautiful and without worry.

———

The downhill scramble was more treacherous than the uphill climb. Po complained that his toes were liable to burst through the front of his boots; and then he complained that he wished they would, for they ached from the constant downhill beat of his feet. And then Katsa noticed that he stopped complaining altogether and sank into a preoccupation.

“Po. We’re moving fast.”

“Yes.” He shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted down at the fields of Monsea. “I only hope it’s fast enough.”

They camped that night beside a stream that ran with melting snow. She sat on a rock and watched his eyes that glimmered with worry. He glanced at her and smiled suddenly. “Would you like something sweet to eat with this rabbit?”

“Of course,” she said, “but it makes little difference what I want, if all we have is rabbit.”

He stood then and turned away into the scrub.

Where are you going?

He didn’t answer. His boots scraped on rock as he disappeared into blackness.

She stood. “Po!”

“Don’t worry your heart, Katsa.” His voice came from a distance. “I’m only finding what you want.”

“If you think I’m just going to sit here – ”

“Sit down. You’ll ruin my surprise.”

She sat, but she let him know what she thought of him and his surprise, rattling around in the dark and breaking his ankles on the rocks most likely, so she’d have to carry him the rest of the way down the mountain. A few minutes passed, and she heard him returning. He stepped into the light and came to her, his hand cupped before him. When he knelt before her, she saw a little mound of berries in his palm. She looked into the shadows of his face.

“Winterberries?” she asked.





“Winterberries.”

She took one from his hand and bit into it. It popped with a cold sweetness. She swallowed the soft flesh and watched his face, confused. “Your Grace showed them to you, these winterberries.”

“‘Yes.”

“Po. This is new, isn’t it? That you should sense a plant with such clarity. It’s not as if it were moving or thinking or about to crash down on top of you.”

He sat back on his heels. He tilted his head. “The world is filling in around me,” he said, “piece by piece. The fuzziness is clearing. To be honest, it’s a bit disorienting. I’m ever so slightly dizzy.”

Katsa stared at him. There was nothing to say in response to this; his Grace was showing him winterberries, and he was ever so slightly dizzy. Tomorrow he would be able to tell her about a landslide on the other side of the world, and they would both faint.

She sighed and touched the gold in his ear. “If you put your feet into the stream, the snow water will soothe your toes, and I’ll rub the warmth back into them when you’re done.”

“And if I’m cold in places other than my toes? Will you warm me there, too?”

His voice was a grin, and she laughed into his face. But then he took her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes, seriously. “Katsa. When we get closer to Leck, you must do whatever I tell you to. Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“You must, Katsa. You must swear it.”

“Po. I’ve promised it before, and I’ll promise it again, and swear it, too. I’ll do what you say.”

He watched her eyes, and then he nodded. He emptied the last few berries into her hand and bent down to his boots.

“My toes are such a misery, I’m not sure it’s wise to release them. They may revolt and run off into the mountains and refuse to return.”

She ate another winterberry. “I expect I’m more than a match for your toes.”

———

The next day there were no more jokes from Po, about his toes or anything else. He hardly spoke, and the farther they moved down the path that led to King Leck, the more anxious he seemed to become. His mood was contagious.