A Touch Of Darkness

13 || Ligari

Finlay is, more or less, correct about our arrival time. The sun hovers only at a slight tilt, just beginning to slide into the western sky, when he turns to me with his announcement.

"We're here."

I jolt up to look at him, almost losing my footing on the snow-covered rocks. The ledge has grown increasingly narrow as we climbed, but as I dig my fingers into a crevice and peer around the corner to where Finlay waits, I see it is about to widen significantly. Balancing on a spur of rock, edge digging into the grooves in my boots, I brace myself and let go. One careful leap, and hardened earth meets the soles of my feet.

My heart stumbles over a beat. There have been flatter sections we have passed on the way up, but this ledge cuts sharply down the mountain, as if some giant dagger has taken a thick slice from its side. It stands out starkly from the white the snow paints all around, with not a single crack or notch for flakes to cling to. I press my palm against a smooth stone wedged into the earthen sheet, taking a moment to catch my breath while my eyes roam over the ledge.

This can't be natural. Especially not when I spot the pale plank of wood only a few paces away, the door, as if this sliver of mountainside has been cut away to form the wall of a village house.

Finlay beckons, his thumb pointing towards the door. "Welcome to Ligari's abode."

I tilt my head upwards. Above the wall, the mountain suddenly juts out again, casting a faint shadow just underneath. The angle of the sun prevents it from reaching us. "Did she do this?"

"No. This is the work of a talented Nería." He snorts a laugh. "Ligari used to get on rather well with one, I think. He carved this place for her."

I trace a finger over the sliced dirt, then retract, turning back to him. A sudden uncertainty overtakes me as my gaze is pulled towards the door. "Are you sure she'll help?"

I'm conscious of the thin black wisps at my fingertips, dragging out the anxieties that have haunted me all the way up. It was Ligari who told Finlay of the Enkavmé, so it must have been her who placed the fear in his tone when he spoke of Adeía, the meaningful words he chose. The sorts of things that aren't meant to be tampered with. I tug the flames back under my skin.

Finlay only shrugs, not entirely looking my way. His gaze races over the clouds, and the scraps of pale blue between them, while his fingers tap at his side in thought. "She'll help. She's expecting us."

"Even if I wasn't, I'd have heard you coming a mile off."

The air turns to ice as I gasp, flinching back against the mountainside. Something about this new voice tremors through my veins like a streak of flame, an odd sense of the power sharpening its syllables, the command it has the potential to hold. Yet her tone is light, and so is her step as she slips from the opening that now cuts into the earth. The door hangs ajar behind her.

The first thing I notice is her skin. It glows even in the weak sunlight, her bare arms rippling a pale bronze. Golden brown curls tumble freely down her shoulders, taking on the light with a similar ease. Her pale green tunic must be loose around her slim form for the way it ripples in the wind.

Green, Finlay's hidden favourite colour. I shoot him what I hope is a subtle glance. His wavering words of last night linger with me, twined with a burning strand of my own curiosity I fight to keep from slipping out. He'll share more of the vulnerable topic when he's ready, the same way I still await the moment when I'll be able to speak about the girl.

Our secrets can wait. For now, I turn back to the Jeía before us, the hope of control she brings. The light she seems to shed like snow from a branch as she strolls towards us only tightens the anticipation knotted in my stomach.