Escape From Riddler's Pass (7 page)

 

“A slope upward, Noa said,” Rae grunted, breathing heavily. “I would hardly call this a mere slope.”

Jesse didn't answer, using all his energy to keep scrambling up each rock. This was the third pile they had climbed since leaving Noa. Along the way were a few of the steel carts they had seen at the other mines, and Jesse noticed for the first time the two parallel grooves that lined the tunnels.

For the wheels on the carts
, he realized.
To haul gems and iron to the surface. We're going in the right direction, at least.
He wished they could climb in a cart and be hauled to the surface by a crew of Roarics, but the tracks were broken up by the huge piles of boulders Noa had warned them about.

Finally, at the top of the third rock heap, Jesse spotted the sight they had waited for: a pinprick of sunlight. Small though it was, the light gave Jesse the energy to continue.

This heap seemed to be steeper than the others, and Jesse had the sensation of climbing straight up a mountain cliff, although he knew it was no such thing. Rae, of course, was an excellent climber, but Silas lumbered behind Jesse, choosing the slower, but safer, routes.

Jesse stopped to rest, leaning against one of the cool stones. His body was soaked with sweat, and he was suddenly glad he had left his pack of supplies at the entrance to the cave.
I wouldn't have the strength to carry it now.

Directly below him, Silas stopped too. “Here,” he said, passing the water skin to Jesse. “Give it to Rae when you're done.” Either he was too tired to ask where Jesse's own supplies were, or he didn't notice they were gone.

Jesse took a long gulp of water, cold and refreshing. “Catch,” he called, tossing the water skin up to Rae. He didn't throw it far enough, and she had to duck down to grab it.

That sudden movement seemed to jar the boulder she was standing on. Jesse watched in horror as the boulder pulled away from the others, sending Rae tumbling down the pile.

Instinctively, he grabbed her as she fell, trying to steady her before she slid farther down the mountain of stones. Even though Rae had stopped, Silas was still shouting.

Jesse looked up to see several stones rolling down the pile. Rae's rock must have loosened others. Even as his mind processed that thought, he realized something more immediately important:
They're coming toward us!

Instinctively, Jesse shoved Rae aside, toward Silas. At the same time, he leaped to the right, missing the boulder.
Get away!
his mind screamed, but there was nowhere to go without falling down the pile.

He saw a rock heading toward his head, but he had no time to move. A shooting pain raced jaggedly through him. Dimly, he heard his own voice crying out in pain.

Movement beside him. Voices. Jesse tried to focus enough to understand what Silas and Rae were saying, but he couldn't. It hurt too much.

Then, mercifully, black began to cloud his vision, and he didn't see or hear anymore.

When he opened his eyes again, his head still throbbed, but the sharp pain was gone. That was a relief.

He was Above-ground. The tree branch above him was a good sign of that. Jesse never realized how much he appreciated simple things like fresh air and the sun on his face.

“He's awake,” Rae's voice said. Her dark eyes looked even wider than usual as she leaned down toward him.

“Are you all right?” Silas asked, joining her.

“Not yet, but I hope to be on my feet in no time,” Jesse said dryly. Silas and Rae didn't smile. “Well, at least I have a hard head.”

Still no reaction. Jesse gave up and focused on his injuries, reaching a hand up to touch his head. Even through the bandages, he could feel the lump on his temple. “One of our blankets is torn up now, I assume,” he said.

Silas shook his head. “Part of the tent. The canvas was thicker.”

“You were bleeding a lot,” Rae added. She didn't exactly sound concerned, but she hadn't left him underground to die. That was something.

“It must have been the rubble from old mine shafts,” Jesse said, his voice not quite steady. “No wonder the rocks were loose—there was nothing to hold them together.”

“I was surprised you didn't get crushed,” Rae said bluntly. “You should consider yourself lucky.”

“How did I get here?” Jesse asked, glancing around.

“We carried you,” Silas said.

Jesse frowned. “You shouldn't have done that. You could have fallen.”

“It was either that or leave you behind,” Rae pointed out, sitting down on the grass. “Stop being so noble.”

“I'm not being noble,” Jesse protested. “If you were carrying me, I would have fallen with you.”

Silas turned to Rae. “I liked him better when he was unconscious.”

Even though his leg throbbed with pain, Jesse smiled a little. “Where are we?”

“Just outside the cave,” Silas said. “We found a grove of trees nearby. We'll spend the night here.”

“Can you move?” Rae asked.

“I think so.” Jesse stretched a little, then sat up slowly, leaning against the tree. Now he could see the mountains through the trees. There was a small hole in the rock near the ground. “You crawled through that?” he asked, amazed.

Rae nodded. “Silas wanted to pull aside more boulders to make it larger, but I told him that was foolish. If we accidentally loosened the rocks beneath us, we would be at the bottom of the pile again—if we managed to live.”

“She had to pull me out of the opening,” Silas said, rubbing his shoulder. Suddenly, Jesse wished he had been awake for that part.
It would have been very entertaining
.

Rae stood and walked over to a pine on the other side of their camp. When she came back, she was holding Jesse's walking stick.

“Here,” she said, handing it to him. “I dug it out of the rocks. Silas wanted to leave it behind, but I told him that you'd try to crawl back into the cave to get it.”

“You're probably right,” Jesse said, gripping the familiar wood of the staff. “Thank you.”

Then he glanced at his leg, the crippled left one. It, too, was wrapped in a bandage.

Silas followed his gaze. “Another rock grazed you before I got there,” he said. “Just tore the skin up, mostly. You should be able to walk just fine. As well as usual, I mean,” he added quickly.

Jesse tried to be cheerful. “Well, at least it was the one that was already mangled.”

“What happened to your leg?” Rae asked, staring at it.

“Hmm?” Jesse said, jerking his head up. He grinned a little. “Oh, a rock fell on it.”

“No, I mean before that,” Rae said, rolling her eyes. “If you don't mind saying,” she added quickly.

Jesse shook his head. “I don't mind. It was five years ago, when I was ten. I was playing with a friend of mine in the village stables. We were teasing one of the horses, a beautiful, spirited chestnut stallion.”

Understanding flickered across Rae's face. “Oh,” she said. As one who knew much about horses, she could clearly see where this story was going.

Jesse continued anyway. “My friend, Eli, dared me to jump on its back. I had been riding often before, and I thought I could handle this new horse. I was wrong. It wasn't used to a strange rider, I suppose, and it was already annoyed. Whatever the reason, it began to buck furiously, throwing me to the ground. I tried to roll away, but it stomped on my leg several times.”

He closed his eyes, remembering the pain he had felt then, much stronger than what he felt even now. “If my father hadn't come running, I might have been trampled to death.”

“It must have been a hard loss, the use of your leg, I mean,” Silas said.

“Accidents happen,” Jesse said, shrugging. “If anyone was to blame, I was, for being so foolish. Besides, I get along well enough. My limp taught me a lesson. I just wish I didn't have to learn it the hard way.”

His words were optimistic, as they always were when someone asked him about his crippled leg. They were true enough. But although the pain of the accident soon died away, Jesse could still remember the greater pain—not being able to participate in the harvest time footraces, trying to ignore the stares and whispers of pity when he went into town, hearing the other children laugh at him.

Not that they did that often
, he remembered with a bit of a smile.
Not while Eli was around, anyway.
Eli had always been his defender after the accident, and now Jesse wondered again what was happening to him.
I hope his mission is going better than ours
.

The sun was just starting to set, and although Jesse knew it had only been a few hours since he had slept at the mouth of the cave, he felt exhausted again.

“Well,” Jesse said, “I suppose it's time to go to sleep.”

“Yes,” Silas said. “We'll need to move on tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Jesse asked doubtfully. Sure, his head seemed to be all right, but it would be nice to rest for a while.

Silas frowned at him in surprise. “Of course.”

“But, Silas,” Rae said, “he has to have time to heal. Can't we wait a day or two?” Although it surprised him, Jesse had to admit it was nice to have Rae defending him for a change.

“We'll travel slowly,” Silas promised, “but we have to go forward. Think of Parvel and the danger he is in.”

Interesting. He didn't seem terribly concerned about rushing into Mir to find Parvel just two nights ago
. But Jesse could see that Silas had made up his mind.
Then we break camp in the morning
. The thought made Jesse even more tired. “And where, exactly, are we going?”

“Riddler's Pass,” Silas said firmly. He pulled his blanket from his pack and spread it on the ground.

“And once we get there, what will we do?” Rae asked.

“I don't know.”

Of course not.
“We shouldn't forget that Bern made us leave our weapons in the cave,” Jesse pointed out, “which is now completely collapsed.”

Silas just stared at him, as if waiting for Jesse to get to the point. Jesse sighed. “Silas, you can't possibly expect us to storm the hiding place of the most ruthless faction of the Rebellion unarmed! What do you plan to do—throw rocks at them?”

“We aren't entirely unarmed,” Silas said. He reached into his pack and pulled out two small sheaths. “We have Rae's dagger and the dagger Samar gave me before we left him in the desert camp.”

“You mean you had those all along, down in New Urad, and you didn't use them?” Rae blurted.

“What purpose would that have served?” Silas asked. “If I had felt we were in immediate danger, I would have taken them out. But we never were, so I never did.”

Cautious, as usual
, Jesse thought.
Then why is Silas so determined to take the foolish, risky way when it comes to Riddler's Pass?

Of course, he knew the answer. The Rebellion killed Silas' father, and he wanted revenge. Even Noa had noticed that.

Silas stood. “You and Rae sleep. I'll keep watch.”

“I still don't think…” Jesse began.

But Silas had already paced away to the edge of the grove of trees.

“Leave it,” Rae advised, retreating to one of the tents. “He's clearly made up his mind.”

But, try as he might, Jesse could not just leave it. Slowly, leaning on his staff and ignoring the twinge of pain, he stood and limped over to Silas. “I said I would take first watch,” Silas said, hearing him approach.

“It's not that. I….” Jesse paused, trying to think of what to say. “You don't seem yourself lately.” Silence. “Well, not lately, really, just…just when you talk about the Rebellion.”

“I have my reasons,” Silas said.

Jesse could see Silas' face clearly in the moonlight, and, without thinking, he shivered. Something was terribly wrong. Oh, the pale blond hair hadn't changed. Neither had the sharp nose and strong chin. It was his eyes. Pale gray in the moonlight, they stared into the darkness with a look of pure hatred Jesse had never seen before, and certainly hadn't seen in Silas before.

“Oh,” Jesse said at last. He couldn't think of anything to say.
There's no use in talking to him now
.

“Goodnight, then,” he said, limping back to the tent. Although he had a nagging feeling he had given up too soon, it was easier than trying to talk to someone who didn't want to listen. Maybe in the morning he would try again. Jesse yawned and closed his eyes.
Yes. In the morning.

Jesse awoke to a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. He drew a breath to cry out for help, when he heard Silas whisper. “Not a word, Jesse.”

What's happening?
It couldn't be time for them to break camp; it was still dark.

Then another voice, a distant one Jesse didn't recognize. “He's cocky, that's what he is. Bossy too. Comes in from District Four, orders us to follow him, and now he keeps us trapped in the mountains. Who does he think he is, anyway? That's what I want to know.”