فصل 30

30.

In Which Things Are More Difficult than Originally Planned

Luna hadn’t been walking for long before she was very, very lost and very, very frightened. She had her map and she could see in her mind’s eye the route that she should travel, but she had already lost her way.

The shadows looked like wolves.

The trees clacked and creaked in the wind. Their branches curled like sharp claws, scratching at the sky. Bats screeched and owls hooted their replies.

The rocks creaked under her feet, and beneath that, she could feel the mountain churning, churning, churning. The ground was hot, then cold, then hot again.

Luna lost her footing in the dark and tumbled, head over feet, into a muddy ravine.

She cut her hand; she twisted her ankle; she knocked her skull against a low-­hanging branch and burned her leg in a boiling spring. She was fairly certain she had blood in her hair.

“Caw,” said the crow. “I told you this was a terrible idea.”

“Quiet,” Luna muttered. “You’re worse than Fyrian.”

“Caw,” said the crow, but what he meant was any number of unrepeatable things.

“Language!” Luna admonished. “And anyway, I don’t believe I like your tone.”

Meanwhile, something continued happening inside Luna that she could not explain. The clicking of gears that she had felt almost her whole life was now more like the gonging of a bell. The word magic existed. She knew that now. But what it was and what it meant were still a mystery.

Something itched in her pocket. A small, papery something crinkled and rattled and squirmed. Luna did her best to ignore it. She had bigger problems at hand.

The forest was thick with trees and undergrowth. The shadows crowded out the light. With each step she paused and gingerly padded her foot in front of her, feeling around for solid ground. She had been walking all night, and the moon—nearly full—had vanished in the trees, taking the light with it.

What have you gotten yourself into? the shadows seemed to say, tutting and harrumphing.

There wasn’t even enough light to see the map that she had drawn. Not that a map would do her any good so far off her intended trail.

“Stuff and bother,” Luna muttered, carefully taking another step. The path was tricky here—hairpin curves and needle-­like rock formations. Luna could feel the vibration of the volcano under her feet. It didn’t relent—not even for a moment. Sleep, she thought at it. You are supposed to be sleeping. The volcano didn’t seem to know this.

“Caw,” said the crow. “Forget the volcano. You should sleep,” he meant. This was true. Lost as she was, Luna was hardly making any progress. She should stop, rest, and wait until morning.

But her grandmother was out here.

And what if she was hurt?

And what if she was sick?

And what if she didn’t come back?

Luna knew that everything alive must die someday—she had seen it with her own eyes when she assisted her grandmother. People died. And while it made their loved ones sad, it didn’t seem to bother the dead person one bit. They were dead, after all. They had moved on to other matters.

She once asked Glerk what happens to people when they died.

He had closed his eyes and said, “The Bog.” There was a dreamy smile on his face. “The Bog, the Bog, the Bog.” It was the most un-­poetic thing he had ever said. Luna was impressed. But it didn’t exactly answer her question.

Luna’s grandmother had never spoken about the fact that she would die someday. But she clearly would die and likely was dying—this thinness, this weakness, this evasion. These were questions with one terrible answer, which her grandmother refused to give.

Luna pressed onward with an ache in her heart.

“Caw,” said the crow. “Be careful.”

“I am being careful,” Luna said peevishly.

“Caw,” said the crow. “Something very strange is happening to the trees.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Luna said.

“Caw!” the crow gasped. “Watch your footing!”

“What do you think I’m trying—”

But Luna said no more. The ground rumbled, the rocks under her feet gave way, and she fell, pinwheeling into the darkness below.